#next week is dishonored death of the outsider

[madegeeky]

Epic Free Games (til 2 Feb. 2023, 10am cst)

Adios is a cinematic first-person game about sticking to a complicated decision.

You're a pig farmer in Kansas. It's October. Cold, crisp mornings are the norm, and you have decided that you're no longer okay with letting the mob use your pigs to dispose of bodies. When your old friend - a hitman - arrives with his assistant to deliver another body, you finally screw up the courage to tell them that you're done.

Hell is Others is an extraction horror PVPVE top-down shooter. Outside the safety of your apartment lies the noir hellscape of Century City. A city of endless night that straddles the line between reality and insanity. Explore, hunt and loot in a place where blood is currency.

[minecraftbookshelf]

heeebeedeebs ok, so, any headcanons for the marriage of state au on like....uh.... heh.... burial customs? for like... the cod alliance?

(also maybe also wither rose toooooo????)

ooooooooo!

So I actually hadn't thought about this yet which is why it took me a couple of days to answer, i had to poke at it a bit. So now I do have thoughts!

This might get a little bit gruesome, along the lines of frank discussions of dead bodies and disposal thereof.

Cod Alliance

The Swamp being...swampy, it doesn't lend itself to burial very well. The honored dead are burned (dry wood is a valuable resource) and the dishonored dead are basically dumped in a specific corner of the swamp very heavily populated with Things That Eat People. (Mostly Catfish and Alligators, this is an American South swamp/bayou biome in my heart, which does, unfortunately, mean they have mosquitoes) They also have wakes, like full party mode, music and alcohol and stories of the deceased. They were also an occupied territory for several centuries, with very few resources left to them, community support in time of bereavement is very important. Especially in situations where the deceased supported a family.

The Ocean Empire buries at sea. The dead are weighted down and taken to the Deep Ocean and dropped there. Think whale fall. They are a bit more solemn about their rituals than The Swamp but there are several similarities. They have an appointed grieving period of two weeks, during which the loved ones of the deceased are sequestered.

Mezaleans build mausoleums. Their dead are burned and the ashes interred with their families or, for an honored few, mostly royals who provided exceptional service to their people, beneath the Mother Tree. There is also a public mausoleum in each city for those without families, though those people are few, as Mezaleans engage in liberal social adoption. Most people find themselves quietly absorbed into some sort of family unit before they have been alone too long (but that is a whole nother post). They also tend to build memorials, ranging from small potted gardens of favorite flowers to full, larger-than-life statues. They don't believe in reincarnation so much as in redistribution of energy and preservation of memory.

Pixandria, for somewhat obvious reasons, has a very unique relationship with death (and also Death). They also have a party, celebrating the passage from life to death, though theirs is less focused on memories of the past than the Swamp and more on congratulating the dead on their migration to the next stage of existence. Every death celebration includes a seat at the table for Death herself, that is kept liberally supplied with food and alcohol at all stages of the festivities. They bury their dead, and quickly, since corpses don't keep long in the desert. Priests and royals are buried in catacombs beneath the Anthill while everyone else is buried in one of a few designated locations in the desert. (The party does not start until everyone is safely back in the oasis or Anthill, as travelling drunk through the desert is a good way to end up having to repeat the entire event again very shortly, and while they do not fear death, they do also value life.)

Wither Rose Alliance

Mythland also buries their dead. I haven't thought too much about the details but the primary religion of the region is a blood cult so there is definitely something done with the blood of the deceased. It's drained from the body and they use it for some sort of memorial ritual. These are not open to outsiders and are usually closed affairs involving only the family and close friends of the deceased and a single priest of the blood sheep.

The Crystal Cliffs, as an empire made up in no small part of people who are direct transplants from other empires, do their best to honor the cultural practices of the deceased. If not, they practice a form of sky burial, as the sheer stone cliffs don't offer a lot of burial opportunities and they territory is too small for it to be practical. The native population consider dead bodies functionally as waste matter, no longer important once it is no longer inhabited by a living soul. It's just a matter of practical disposal. Though as stated, they will go to great lengths to respect the wishes of the dead regarding the disposal of their bodies, including transporting them all the way to Pixandria if necessary.

The Grimlands also bury their dead. (You can see some similarities here, in this alliance.) They have a couple of different regional variations, but they do bury their dead. If the deceased died of illness or redstone poisoning they are burned, to avoid contaminating the land or the living. They usually have a memorial service, and immediate relatives are expected to undergo a grieving schedule not unlike the Ocean. (This probably came from the salmon hybrid population)

Gilded Helianthia, like their primary allies, buries their dead but they do so fully communally, and without any kind of coffins or excess wrappings. Where you are buried depends entirely on when you die. Bodies are left in the ground for five years, to allow full decomposition of all tissues, then the bones are exhumed and burned and the ashes scattered over the ground they were buried in. Once a zone has been completely exhumed, it is converted into farmland. This is one of the ways they rotate their croplands and maintain soil health.

Rivendell has a couple of different burial traditions, depending on how high in the mountains you are. They have a relatively small population, and their birth and death rates are such that it remains fairly steady. Which is to say, both death and birth are fairly rare, when nature is allowed to run its course. (This does mean that things such as war, famine, and sickness can be devastating for them, as it can be very difficult to recoup the population loss) Death is a solemn affair, funeral rites take place over the course of at least a week, and the body is displayed for a significant portion of that. The cold climates of the mountain allow for that. Afterwards the body is burned and the ashes either scattered from a high peak, or into the river, depending on where the deceased lived. This releases the soul for reincarnation, and to deny this to someone is a very serious statement. Mourning periods vary from 1-10 years, depending on relationship with the deceased, age of the mourner, age of the deceased, and several other factors. The grieving are monitored carefully for signs of Fading during this time.

The Lost Empire has four different distinct burial traditions, equating to the four elements their culture is based around. Pyre, burial, sky burial (done from the tree-tops), and water burial. The rulers are buried on a rotation. (Joey is scheduled to be burned after death, and he maintains this is incredibly romantic given Xornoth's own elemental powers. Xornoth thinks he's weird.)

Everyone Else

It's literally just the Overgrown and Undergrove left at this point so might as well XD

The Overgrown, being fae, and having a very strong nature alignment, return their bodies to the Spring. Fae bodies also, to put it bluntly, decompose very, very quickly. Almost dissolving over the course of a day or so. Burial is swift and flowers are planted to memorialize the deceased.

The Undergrove does not currently have a population beyond Shrub themself, but the gnomes were/are fungal farmers and had very practical views on the burial of bodies, not dissimilar to those of Gilded Helianthia.

-

AU Masterpost

[corpo-cunt-couture]

Question about Dishonored prop pack!

If I'm gonna share the prop packs, would you guys rather have one giant archive, or have me split it into several smaller ones?

So say, one pack for furniture, one pack for vegetation, one pack for occult related props, and so on and so forth?

Pros of the giant pack is that I don't have to spend the extra time making the packs and separating items, and you guys dont have to download several archives, but it's also pretty messy and unorganised

Pros of the smaller packs would be that you don't have to scroll through all the other stuff if you just want to use one or two items, but would take longer for me to make and share

Also, if anyone has suggestions for specific props from that game (meaning Dishonored 2 and Death of the Outsider), just let me in an ask, and I'll see if I can dig it out and make it work!

edit: reason i'm giving this poll a whole week is because this Tuesday I'm having my week 4k words exam on rhetoric and learning traditions in medieval times, and the week after that a similar exam in Neuroaesthetics, and then my GF from the US is visiting, so the next two weeks I'm not gonna have much time for modding anyways 😅

[420thewritersroom]

A Burning Tree

~ok listen! I know I said that the next part would introduce Revenant!Kung Lao, but I got the brainworm to look at how Liu Kang and Shujinko handled Kung Lao's death and add more Dark!Raiden to the mix. Especially since I was heavily inspired to write a bit more about Dark!Raiden thanks to @sogekii-heii and their recent piece with Dark!Raiden (I still think about that, like oml!)~

~So here we go again! I promise this time, Kung Lao's coming back and it's going to be nasty! Also, this title actually has meaning to it, finish reading to get that meaning! Or skip to the end and get it anyways, idc~

~Before we continue just wanted to put some mild context to ensure this makes sense. Fire God Liu Kang starts getting deja vu as certain coincidences and events start playing out that are too eerily similar to how things played out during the MK9 game. All roads were seemingly leading to Kung Lao dying in his timeline, and Liu Kang struggled with how to cope and deal with this. On one hand, he did not want his friend-…His new teacher…To die, especially since he tried so hard to tailor-make this timeline to ensure everyone got a happy ending.

Yet, at the same time, he refused to stoop down to Kronika's level and start altering the timeline until it was his "perfect" utopia. However, his fears and suspicion about the situation become even more realized when Raiden gets gravely injured, and the only thing that prevented him from kneeling over was the thunder amulet infused with his person (and some other magical shit, idk). From this, Raiden gains his iconic white hair, and this gives Liu Kang a heart attack. To make a long story short, Kung Lao ends up dying at the hands of the villains, Raiden is going through the stages of grief, but he's going down the same dark path as the previous Raiden, now becoming Dark Raiden. And Liu Kang has to finally interfere.~

Still confused? Too late, now on to the story!

Previous // Next

Characters: Shujinko (MK1 Ver), Fire God Liu Kang, Raiden, Past Liu Kang, Past Raiden - Mentions of Kung Lao, Scorpion, Smoke, and Ashra

Word Count: 5,578

Ships: MK9 Liu Kang/MK9 Raiden (Unrequited Love)

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (with less blood), Heavy Talks of Character Death

No one has seen Liu Kang-not since he disbanded the Earthrealm Warriors. Barely a week after that disbandment, Liu Kang became a ghost in his own academy. None of the monks can confidently say where they last saw the fire god. One moment, he's confined to his meditation area, then he's at the zen garden, or his private quarters. Other times, no one knows where Liu Kang is at all.

Shujinko still remembers that day, when Liu Kang called all his champions to inform them of the news. Old and new Earthrealm warriors were gathered for the news, and it came as a shock to everyone what Liu Kang announced.

"I may have made a…Selfish choice, when I chose each of you to become defenders of Earthrealm. The timeline I originated from, many of you were there as well. Protecting and fighting for our home against threats within and outside of Earthrealm…And with this new era, I foolishly assumed that I could…Replicate the connections that were made before. I have taken up all of your time with new worries, wounds, and ripped you away from the lives you once had before. So…I'm giving you the option…To walk away. From all of this. To return to your homes, your families, the life before I found you. There will be no shame or dishonor if you choose to retire the mantle. I wish each of you a fulfilling life…And I'm sorry."

Shujinko still remembers the near unified gasp and murmurs that filled the room-the questions that erupted in that moment as everyone tried to make sense of Liu Kang's decision. Liu Kang answered any questions that were brought to him, but Shujinko could tell that Liu Kang was set on his decision. Despite Liu Kang's stance on the discontinuation of Earthrealms defenders, many opted to continue their service to their realm, especially when Kuai Liang, Tomas, and Ashra argued against Liu Kang's decision to weaken Earthrealms defenses. And where Liu Kang would've listened to their concerns carefully and worked with others to meet in the middle, the fire god did none of that, uncharacteristically so. It seemed no amount of concrete arguments was going to sway Liu Kang into reconsidering.

If anything, the zeal the Shirai Ryu leaders and Ashra displayed encouraged others to stay and maintain their positions as Earthrealms protectors. After all they've been through, how could one do so? Discovering mystical powers that they all thought to be mythical, experiencing breathtaking realms beyond their own, and for few, the soul-changing truth and reality of their existence. For others, they might not have a home to return to; a life either filled with too many hurtful memories, broken relationships, or homes gone to the wind to never return again. All of that is nigh impossible to walk away from…But walk away few did.

Their reasons for leaving were their own, and they left with their excuses. But there were those who couldn't return to a normal life due to the aforementioned reasons before. They knew too much, saw too much; for some, a bit too much. Like a soldier returning from a grueling war, reconciling an average living after spending years, months, maybe even weeks under the wing of Liu Kang and his academy would be much to bear on the psyche. Almost ominously, Liu Kang promised to fix that for them.

What was done to these warriors was not publicly told, but Shujinko heard rumors and whispers about Liu Kang wiping away the memories of those who couldn't find it in themselves to leave behind their new life to return to their old one. It's presumed it's a consensual exchange, and Shujinko wants to believe that Liu Kang gave them the choice to lose those memories. But there was something disheartening about knowing that old friends Shujinko knew during his time in the Wu Shi Academy now viewed him as a regular stranger. That there are those who returned home who will never recognize the faces of those whom they considered allies, friends, and maybe even lovers.

Shujinko would know that pain. He experienced it before.

-

Raiden, long before he was exposed to the same memory wipe...When he was...Changed by his former master's death, revealed to him why there were gaps and contradictions in his memories. At that time, Shujinko noticed a change that was present in everyone. People were avoiding him, few wanted to train with him, and others spoke to him in such a careful manner as if they were hiding something from the young pupil. Before, Kung Lao, Raiden, nor Liu Kang would explain why he was treated differently, chalking it up to his new classmates needing time to get to know him.

And for a long time, Shujinko believed that...Until Raiden broke the news to him. It practically came out of nowhere when Raiden revealed this to Shujinko. Shujinko's training was placed in the hands of the thunder wielder, and after Kung Lao's death, he was far rougher and blunt than before, pointing out all his flaws but giving little instruction on how to improve. Even Shujinko's ability to copy other's abilities couldn't prepare him how to fight properly. And, at times, Shujinko thought that Raiden used their time training together as an excuse to use him as a punching bag. None of the other masters at the academy was as ruthless as Raiden was, even the ones who were notorious for being a "tough love" type of mentor. Shujinko slowly began to dread training with Raiden...Feared him even. It was almost like Raiden had some...Sick, twisted desire to break his spirit, along with those he encountered.

It was the day when Shujinko practically BEGGED Raiden to stop his assault on him, clearly yielding, nay, submitting, to the thunder wielder. His glowing white hair and eyes, along with the sparks of lightning bouncing off him, becoming an image Shujinko, even to this day, has a hard time disassociating from his idea of what Raiden is. Raiden gave him a light but firm kick, forcing Shujinko on his back after leaning on his side. Raiden walked a short distance away from him, taking in the mountainous view of the academy. Shujinko took that moment to breathe since Raiden rarely gave him breaks anymore.

"...You've been slightly improving, Shujinko," Raiden kept his eyes trained on the scene before him, his voice tainted with a sinister tone.

Shujinko only moved his eyes to look at his master, remaining silent, for he feared that saying anything would rile the thunder wielder. Especially since the clouds have been a dangerous gray for a long time since they started their brawl.

"But you're barely where you need to be. Not like you used to be, anyways." Raiden gibed, still keeping his view on the mountainous regions ahead.

Shujinko KNOWS he shouldn't speak back, he learned a long time ago with this...New Raiden, what happens when he talks back to him. But something deep inside the young monk wanted to bite back at Raiden. After all this time under Raiden's wing, he's been nothing but demeaning to Shujinko. Everything the pupil did seemingly irritated Raiden to no end. If anything, the reason he's 'barely where he needs to be' is because Raiden beats him to near death and doesn't actually teach him! Not like he used to, at least!

Without thinking, Shujinko opened his mouth, venom escaping his lips as he responded to Raiden, "Maybe I would be getting better if you didn't constantly beat the 'lesson' out of me. You know, like how a true master would teach their student. Even Kung Lao knew that."

There was a threatening pause, a silence Shujinko didn't felt until he heard the frightening sound of thunder in the air. It wasn't until now that Shujinko realized where he first fucked up, especially when he put Kung Lao's name in the conversation. Shujinko quickly sat himself up, hissing in pain slightly as his muscles began to strain, and he was reminded that his left leg was sprained. Raiden still paid him no mind, continuing to keep the stillness between them. Shujinko knew that a possible beatdown was waiting for him, so he tried to sneak away as quickly as possible.

"You know, before General Shao, you were the first person to make an attempt on Kung Lao's life."

Shujinko froze upon hearing that, twisting his head to look at Raiden. He almost wished he hadn't that day because the look of Raiden looking at Shujinko over his shoulder, white eyes staring deep into his soul, was another unforgettable image he could never scrub from his mind. His mind was swimming with questions. What did Raiden mean that he almost killed Kung Lao? Never has he ever intentionally attempted to hurt his former master.

"W-what do you mean, master? I would never hurt Master Kung-"

"It's reasonable that you don't remember, you copycat pest," Raiden chastised, making Shujinko feel goosebumps all over his body when Raiden gave him his full attention. "Liu Kang wiped it all away, the memories of the time you got power hungry and nearly compromised the sanctity of the realms."

This all came as a shock to Shujinko as he stared at Raiden stupidly, not registering that Raiden was slowly approaching him.

"And honestly, I think Liu Kang was too kind to you. I should've seen the threat you would become from a mile away. Especially when I watched you nearly snap Kung Lao's neck with your own bare hands. You should've been put down, like the dog you were and the dog you still are." Raiden continued his encroaching walk toward Shujinko, his hair, and eyes now glowing with power as static encompassed him.

Shujinko starts to uselessly crawl away from Raiden, but too frightened to take his eyes off the thunder wielder. "N-no. No, no, no, I would never-"

"JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T REMEMBER DOESN'T MEAN IT NEVER HAPPENED, SHUJINKO," Raiden shouts at the confused pupil, an arc of lightening crashing next to the cowering student, dangerously close for comfort.

"R-RAIDEN, PLEASE, LEAVE ME ALONE!" Shujinko shrieks as he tries to regain his footing, ready to book it out of there.

But he wasn't fast enough, especially with his sprained leg that slowed him down further. Raiden zapped him with multiple streams of lightning straight from his fingertips as he tased Shujinko, the pained screams of his student bringing great inner delight to Raiden, to the amulet. "You're a threat to our realm, to all the realms. You could've been a valuable asset, but Liu Kang is too busy playing the peaceful politician to utilize you as a weapon. Too busy teaching you about harmony and peace when there are actually world-ending threats out there that could be stomped out if we didn't hold ourselves back. That's what killed Kung Lao..."

Shujinko groans in agony as he tries to get away, Raiden's constant assault making it difficult to move any part of his body. "RAIDEN, PLEASE!"

"...So, I guess the only way you won't become a potential threat, is if you are never a threat at all." Raiden began to intensify the bolts of lighting, the sounds of Shujinko howling in pain becoming music to his ears.

"RAIDEN!"

Finally, the lightning stopped, and Shujinko collapsed from the constant strain on his body. Raiden snapped his head towards Liu Kang, the one who gained his attention before he could finally kill Shujinko. The fire god rushed to the unconscious student before angrily looking at Raiden.

"You could've killed him, Raiden! What's gotten into you!?!"

Raiden stared at Liu Kang, not answering him but not showing any signs of guilt either. After a brief pause, Raiden turned his back on the pair and walked away.

"Raiden! Don't you walk away from me! Rai-"

Before Liu Kang could stop him, Raiden disappeared in a flash of lightning. Something Liu Kang was all too familiar with; Lord Raiden would do the same thing if he were to exit a scene.

The next thing Shujinko knew, he was in the many medical care rooms of the Wu Shi Academy, receiving treatment for his wounds. Multiple nurses dressed his injuries before Liu Kang approached Shujinko, expressing how Raiden would no longer be responsible for training him and that he would be assigned to a new teacher. While that was a relief to his ears...Something else bothered Shujinko.

"...Is it true that I almost killed Kung Lao...That I almost destroyed the realms..."

Liu Kang was so taken aback by this that he didn't immediately answer him.

"...Is that why my memories are missing, Lord Liu Kang? Because I'm a threat?" Shujinko's voice starts to shake as he can feel an overwhelming dread take over him.

Even though Liu Kang didn't answer him, the silence was telling. Despite this, Liu Kang didn't conceal the truth from him. Yes, Shujinko did nearly become a threat to all the realms...And yes, regrettably, he did nearly kill Kung Lao when they tried to subdue him. And there were others that Shujinko did kill...His best friend, Apep...Was one of the many casualties that Shujinko caused. All of this because Shujinko, at that time, became puffed up with pride and hungry for power. But it wasn't something that came out of nowhere. Liu Kang admitted that Kung Lao's early years of being a master at the Wu Shi Academy taught him many lessons in being humble; something Lao had to learn the hard way when he was teaching Shujinko the first time.

Liu Kang had no choice but to wipe his memories away, bringing him back to when he was first found by Liu Kang and his warriors. And like a house fire, the flames burned away nearly every inkling of his repertoire, leaving very little for Shujinko to remember. But that also meant, there was no way to recover those memories, even if Liu Kang wanted to give those memories back. Much like a valued family heirloom that was destroyed during a fire, there is precious little that can recover the lost item.

While this meant that Shujinko would not be haunted by the constant reminder of his failures...It still pained him to think that he COULD be a threat to be reckoned with. If anything, he almost wished he never learned the truth. Living in ignorance would've been preferable to living in fear of himself.

-

Shujinko blinks, not realizing that he's been standing idle in front of Liu Kang's private quarters for…Who knows how long. He didn't realize he was deep in thought as he was carrying a tray full of food to the fire god.

No one has seen Liu Kang-not since he disbanded the Earthrealm Warriors. Barely a week after that disbandment, Liu Kang became a ghost in his own academy. None of the monks can confidently say where they last saw the fire god. One moment, he's confined to his meditation area, then he's at the zen garden, or his private quarters. Other times, no one knows where Liu Kang is at all. Oftentimes, it was just best to leave offerings for the fire god at his (once) usual spots and come back an hour later. Usually, the contents were gone upon returning to retrieve them.

Shujinko should leave the tray behind, knock on the door, then go. But something compelled him to linger a bit longer after the initial knock.

"…Lord Liu Kang?" Shujinko meekly calls out. He tries the door, and to his surprise, it was unlocked.

-

"Are you going to l-let me die? Like you did Lao?"

"HE WOULD'VE WANTED TO LIVE WITH ME. SPEND THE REST OF HIS LIFE WITH ME! HIS FUCKING BOYFRIEND!"

"I LOVED HIM, LIU KANG! WITH ALL MY HEART, I LOVED HIM!!! AND YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME! YOU DID THIS TO ME!!"

"Even if you didn't know fully that Kung Lao would die, why didn't you tell us! Why didn't you save him?"

"BRING HIM BACK! BRING HIM BACK TO ME!"

"Why did you let him die"

"Why did you let him die"

"Why did you let him die"

Those words will always haunt Liu Kang. The pain in Raiden's voice, the intensity of his lightning strikes, the hatred he felt for Liu Kang. That's not something one can move on from, no matter how many years pass by. But these words cut deeper than Raiden, or anyone could ever imagine

-

In his youthful, mortal years, Liu Kang made the stupidest decision of his life, and fell in love with a god. Of all the people he could dedicate his life to, a beautiful Outworlder, a fellow best friend, a Special Forces agent, hell, even the Hollywood star would've (not really) been a better contestant than the LITERAL GOD OF THUNDER. An entity that will outlive him by decades, who probably went through multiple lovers-Liu would become another footnote in their unending life. Not only that, but he was pretty much RAISED by this man. He practically went through the entire spectrum of relationships with Raiden, first strangers, then friends, mentor/student, father/son…And now Liu Kang wanted to add lovers to that?

Liu Kang, even then, tried to psyche himself out of falling for Raiden. He had many other suitors, plenty of girls and boys who threw themselves at the Shaolin Monk, and he had plenty of options to choose from. But no matter how he tried, his heart yearned for Raiden. If you asked Liu Kang how he discovered that he grew an affinity for Raiden…There was no straight answer.

Liu Kang can probably point to his formative years as a teen already trying to traverse and reconcile with his growing and changing body. He remembered many times where he lingered at those he found attractive, one of those individuals being Raiden. But back then, Liu Kang assumed that he was just "admiring his physique" and using Raiden as a means of motivation to get stronger.

But the feelings of desire did not fade away as he grew older. If anything, they evolved. Soon, he was having silly daydreams about Raiden. Wondering how it would feel to be held protectively by the thunder god as he lifted them away from danger. What his white mane must feel like, and how Raiden would react if Liu ran his fingers through his hair or braided it. Or perhaps how would Raiden feel if Liu put in the effort to make him a meal, something that Raiden would love. He started noticing little details about Raiden that none did, such as the light glow in Raiden's eyes when he was talking with someone he fancied or the age lines when he smiled. But then these innocent daydreams became…Fuel for more carnal wants. Soon, it developed into memorizing his physique for…Reasons.

Liu Kang began to wonder how it would feel to have Raiden pull at his hair, to whisper in his ear, to pin him down, speak sweet nothings to him, to claim Liu Kang as his, something Raiden could do at any point in time if he wished. A god could take whatever it wanted, and Liu Kang would've gladly let Raiden do whatever he desired with him.

But what outweighed the carnality and the soft trances was the genuine love he felt for Raiden. On the same note of noticing small characteristics of the thunder god, Liu Kang did know of his favorite food (it's nuclear buffalo wings), he knew about Raiden's brother, Fujin, knew about the many adventures that Raiden partook in, both sad and joyful. Liu Kang KNEW Raiden and it made him fall for the god most spectacularly.

But Liu Kang overstepped his boundaries. He and Raiden were sparing together as Liu Kang wanted to demonstrate to Raiden that he was ready for the Mortal Kombat tournament. It was a sweat-inducing endeavor as there was an intense back-and-forth, each of them blocking and countering the others' attacks before finally, Liu Kang gained the upper hand, pinning Raiden below him.

"Do you yield?" Liu Kang says, out of breath.

"Y-yes. I yield," Raiden, just as winded, replied as he shoots Liu Kang with a reassuring smile. "You have improved thanks to Bo' Rai Cho's teachings."

"And I have you to thank for making me a recommendation," Liu readjusts himself on top of Raiden, sitting up on top of Raiden while not applying much weight to the god below him.

There's a moment where Raiden and he are quiet after some idle talk, Liu Kang only noticing that Raiden was staring at him with a growing smile. "…What?"

"You are ready, Liu Kang. You will be the one who will save Earthrealm from Outworld's attempts to merge the realms under their tyranny."

Liu Kang, even though he was praised by Raiden countless times before, cannot help the growing heat from surfacing on his face. He faces away from Raiden before muttering, "You flatter me, Lord Raiden…"

"You'll need a constant reminder that I, along with every defender of Earthrealm, will be cheering for you during the tournament. The kombatants you will encounter will test your might, your vigor, and your mental capacities. I believe you are ready. I know you will become the chosen defender that Earthrealm needs." Raiden softly professed as he leaned up, using his elbows to leverage himself.

Liu Kang looked at Raiden, meeting the thunder god eye-to-eye. Liu Kang saw his whole world in Raiden's white pupils, soaking in every hint of emotion that was displayed in front of him.

"Liu Kang?"

Liu didn't even realize that he was leaning closer to Raiden.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

Liu Kang didn't even register that Raiden was asking questions.

Before Liu Kang knew it, he pressed his lips together with Raiden's. At last, his hearing decided to work so that he could hear the surprised "mph!" noise from the thunder god. It was perhaps Liu Kang's first kiss, he wasn't as adventurous as Kung Lao, who definitely had a few run-ins with various individuals. It being Liu Kang's first, it wasn't anything remarkable, but it was memorable to Liu Kang…But not for the reasons he would've wanted.

When they finally parted, Liu Kang felt like he could breathe again. The shocked expression plastered on Raiden's face, however, was unexpected. They both remain in total silence, neither making a move nor taking the first step to speak. Raiden would finally be the first to move, which indicated for Liu Kang to finally get off the thunder god. Liu Kang, courteously, helped Raiden back on his feet, his hand, however, did not leave Raiden's.

"…I…I must go," Raiden quickly excused himself, disconnecting his hand from Liu Kang.

Liu Kang watched Raiden leave, and the feeling of awkwardness and humiliation quickly overwhelmed him.

Since that day, the pair seemed to share the same idea of just avoiding each other. But where Liu Kang was avoiding Raiden out of embarrassment, Raiden...Liu Kang couldn't figure him out (that bit of mysteriousness always being an aspect of Raiden he did like). Before, Liu Kang didn't mind it, but when Liu Kang began to rediscover the courage to approach Raiden, the thunder god was always turning the other way or shortening their conversations considerably. He could never get a moment with Raiden as he was always in discussion with someone else, busy with other matters, or needed to consult those dreaded Eldar Gods.

But they would finally have a one-on-one...A literal week before the official Mortal Kombat tournament. Liu Kang and Kung Lao were sitting with their Shaolin Monk brethren and family, the spiritual brothers jesting from across the table and talking about their eventful day. Raiden was missing from the scene, but he would suddenly appear in the mess hall where they were all meeting.

"Liu Kang, do you have a moment?"

Many faces turn to Liu Kang with curiosity. The same kind of energy children would have when one is called to the principal's office. Liu Kang feels a knot in his stomach, and he wipes his face with an available napkin, "Yes, Lord Raiden."

"Ooh~! You're in trouble~" Kung Lao jokes, releasing the tension effortlessly in the room.

Liu Kang smirks at his friend, throwing a dumpling at the razerhat wielder before skipping away from the table. Approaching Raiden and meeting him out in the hallway, he noticed that Raiden continued to walk further into the Shaolin Temple.

"Was there a reason for my audience, Lord Raiden?" Liu Kang finally asked after a couple turns here and there, but Raiden still remained silent. The knot in Liu Kang's stomach grows tighter as he anticipates their stop, which means he'll finally be informed the news.

Liu Kang tried to calm himself when they finally reached a secluded area in the temple, outside near the zen garden. Raiden stops in his tracks near a still-in-bloom cherry blossom tree. Funnily enough, it was the same tree he and Kung Lao would often play near when they were children before sometimes secretly training together under said tree.

"...Is there...Something wrong, Raiden?" Liu Kang drops the professionalism as he tries to make this personal, trying to appease to the human side of Raiden.

"...About that...Day...When we both...When we both sparred together as we tested your skills for the tournament."

OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK!

Liu Kang visibly (and if possible, verbally) swallows as he stares at Raiden's back, the thunder god still not facing Liu Kang and meeting him eye-to-eye.

"...Yes..." This was all Liu Kang could utter as he waited for Raiden to continue.

"I...Um..." Even Raiden was loss for words, as if he just decided RIGHT NOW that he wanted to talk about this. "...I...I recognize that you have developed a fondness for me."

It felt like Liu Kang's heart was going to jump out of his body or crawl out of his mouth. A large part of his being was vibrating with excitement. Is this it? Is this the part where they finally take the next step? Liu Kang couldn't help but step in place, leaning against one foot before placing added pressure on the other. Liu Kang wanted to say it. He wanted to declare his emotions in from of Raiden before the thunder god could finish.

"I love you. I love you so much, Raiden. You have no idea the night I would stay up with you on my mind. The pain I go through because I wanted to be near you, close to you, with you."

All of this and more, Liu Kang wanted to confess, but he is disciplined, he is patient. He will wait for Raiden to finish his thought, if he has more to tell.

"...And I have that same...Care for you too, Liu Kang. There's much history between us, and I can understand that you may have grown a deeper affinity for me."

There's a BUT in there. There's a MASSIVE BUT in there. But Liu Kang didn't hear it. He was too enamored, far too blinded by his own love for Raiden to even recognize the writing on the walls.

"But I must, respectfully, decline your love for me."

Liu Kang's world felt like it shattered around him. Somewhere, deep down, Liu Kang knew this could be a possibility. A high probability, in fact.

But it didn't make it hurt any less. Liu Kang stared at Raiden dumbfound. There must be a reason why. Is he not his type? Is it due to the circumstances with the tournament? Is Raiden already seeing someone else? What was the reason?

"…Goodnight, Liu Kang," and Raiden proceeded to walk away. Or, at least, attempt to.

It took all of Liu Kang's willpower to surge after him and grab his wrist, "Wait! W-why can't we? I mean, you said you felt the same way, so why do you 'decline.'" Liu Kang didn't mean to sound desperate, but he wanted to know. Maybe there might still be a chance he can still win Raiden's love.

"Liu Kang, you're letting your emotions control you. I said what I said; there's nothing more to it-"

Liu Kang forces himself in his line of sight, "Why Raiden. That's all I ask."

"Does the why really matter, Liu Kang?"

"It matters enough to me as your friend…"

"…We're not compatible," Raiden tries to say with finality.

"And why is that?"

"Liu-"

"Is it because I'm mortal? The tournament?"

"Liu Kang!" Raiden's eyes flare with godly power as his voice booms like thunder. This immediately quiets Liu Kang. Raiden takes a moment to breathe, reeling back his anger. "…You have many admirable qualities. You're handsome, patient, caring, determined, and good-willed. These are aspects that anyone would fall for and would be lucky to have you as their significant other. And…Perhaps, in another life, I could return your feelings. But I cannot provide you the happiness you think I can give. The amount of responsibilities and burdens…I'm sorry, but I just wouldn't be able to emotionally and physically give back to you."

Liu Kang was speechless as he gazed at Raiden. It hurts too that Raiden is just too good at keeping a stoic look, so Liu Kang can't even find any cracks in his "it's not you, it's me" speech.

"We both will have our 'plates filled' during and after the tournament. A lot of opportunities will be heading your way. I know a mortal's life is short; one must grab at every chance of life that one can. But believe me when I say, that you will find someone who will love you more than I ever could. And it might end up being someone unexpected." Raiden smiles as he places a hand on Liu Kang's shoulder.

Liu Kang slowly hangs his head low slightly, not exactly looking at Raiden's feet, but not meeting his gaze either. "I'm sorry for lashing out, Lord Raiden."

"Do not apologize, it's natural. Believe it or not, I have had plenty of experience with such bursts of emotions. I will always love you, Liu Kang, and I pray that someone will love you more than I do."

-

When Liu Kang recreated this timeline, his main goal and motivation was always to provide his friends a new life. A better life. A second chance at being happy. And sometimes, that meant changing and altering events so that his friends and companions could achieve that life they'd always wanted.

That's why Raiden's words cut so close to home. The old Raiden, the former thunder god, his mentor, his father…The one that got away. Liu Kang only wanted Raiden to be happy because he saw, from the outside looking in, the stress and pressure Raiden had to maintain on his own. And being a fire god himself, he can finally reconcile with those tough decisions Raiden burdened himself with. There were times Liu Kang just wanted to hold him, to kiss away any tears or fears Raiden had.

But they were never meant to be, but that never meant that Raiden's happiness never came first for Liu Kang. Liu Kang may not be able to provide for Raiden emotionally or physically, but he can give him a life where he doesn't have to worry about a single thing. So he put Raiden in his shoes and gave him everything Liu Kang would've wanted. A loving family, a best friend, a wise mentor…A home…Everything Liu Kang has lost or never had, he gave to Raiden…In some way, it was almost like a thank-you gift to the one god who gave him everything in his mortal life.

"Lord Liu Kang?"

Liu Kang opens his eyes as he's slightly disturbed from his meditation. He can see Shujinko peeking through the door, a tray full of food. I'm sorry to disturb you. I wanted to bring you a meal from the mess hall…"

Liu Kang's glowing eyes stare at the young pupil, and he gestures for him to enter. The young man hurries into Liu Kang's quarters, taking brief seconds to admire the gods' room before setting the tray in from of Liu. Just as Shujinko was about to leave, Liu Kang speaks up, "Please, sit with me. I…I would like the company."

"R-really?" Shujinko looks at Liu Kang in utter surprise. He doesn't know anyone in the academy who has sat down with Liu Kang ever since the fire god decided to isolate himself. He's probably the first in a long time to actually SEE Liu Kang in so long. "Are you sure?"

Liu Kang smiles as he picks up the bowl of rice and chopsticks. "I don't eat much anymore. You can have some of the items presented."

Shujinko was still dumbfounded as he watched Liu consume the rice. Shujinko would finally sit across from Liu and pick up a slice of bread and carefully takes a bite. The pair ate in silence, which was more than enough for Liu Kang. Just being near someone, even if it was someone he wasn't too familiar with, Liu Kang knew that at some point, he needed to break this cycle. If Kung Lao was here, he would've scolded him and drag his sorry-ass outside, and forced him to to rekindle himself with the world at large. Liu Kang actually chuckles to himself as he thinks about this.

"Hmm?" Shujinko looks at Liu Kang startled.

"Nothing, Shujinko…Just thinking…" Liu Kang smiles.

-

~whoo, I wrote "considerably" less this time around :D! So, the reason why I picked the title "Burning Tree" is because I was thinking of Shujinko because trees are often associated with family ties and how they're connected to each other. In this case, its more memories than any familial ties Shujinko has with the characters. With his memories gone, it's like a tree burning (or a better analogy being the house fire I mentioned in the story). A burnt tree is nigh reversible and you are stuck with whatever was left behind, if anything was even left behind. That can go hand in hand with Shujinko's (and even Raiden's) memories when Liu Kang removed them. Liu Kang, being the god of fire, can take away those painful memories, but once the deed is done, is irreversible. Even the most dedicated of therapy sessions won't return those lost memories. But like embers after a flame, small fragments might still remain. See, I'm hella smart :D. Also, if it wasn't obvious already, I'm a big Liu Kang/Raiden lover and I was shocked to see there was barely any fics about the pair on AO3. The horror!~

[roguemonsterfucker]

Here's your weekly reminder that there's free games on Epic Games.

This week is Dishonored Death of the Outsider and City of Gangsters.

Next week (February 9th) will be Recipe for Disaster.

A lot of times, the game is something you probably won't have heard of or care about. But sometimes they have really big name games such as GTA5. So make sure you check it out!

Also, my dear sweet beloved followers, if anyone remembers this before I do every week, please kindly send me an ask reminding me about the free games.

[onewhoturns]

A-Z game debrief 4/25: Dishonored: Death of the Outsider (2017)

Developed by: Arkane Studios Published by: Bethesda Softworks

"Be a badass supernatural assassin and take on the role of notorious Billie Lurk as she reunites with her mentor Daud in order to pull off the greatest assassination ever conceived. Building upon Dishonored® 2’s signature gameplay and art style, Death of the Outsider features all the series hallmarks, including brutal combat systems, unique level design, and immersive storytelling that responds to your every choice." Steam tags: Stealth, Action, First-Person, Female Protagonist, Singleplayer, Assassin, Steampunk, Atmospheric, Story Rich, Violent, Magic

Estimated time to 100% (according to hltb): 17.5hrs How long steam logged me playing to 100%: 49.1hrs (15.6 in the last week) How long I actually spent 100%ing (not just with the game running while I was at work or trying to record stuff): no clue, but since I played at work you can probably take off a good 5-10 hours at least

# of achievements I started with: 17/30 # of achievements I ended with:

Rarest achievement (according to steam):

Toughest achievement (according to me):

(I didn't get this the first playthrough, and the bank job contracts are the toughest- potentially because I was treating the contracts and the perfect crime as part of the same goal lol)

Favorite thing about the game: I love the dishonored games so much. All the little bits of lore, the abilities, the music (the bank job music was so tense oml), the setting- I'm biased. I love the dishonored games. So yes, I loved many things about it, particularly gameplay.

[all my blog posts about it]

Thoughts after the fact: Yeah, the plot isn't as strong as the first or second games, but I still love this game. Mostly cause I love the experience of playing dishonored games. And yes, a second (og+) playthrough was much much faster than my first playthrough, both because I remembered certain things from my first playthrough (even if the first playthrough was in 2019), and because my first playthrough was for the shadow achievement, which, in retrospect, was difficult. But also I'm a wimpy over-saver who was overly cautious and played on easy, so it wasn't too bad. 😅

The achievements for particular types of kills or certain feats were incredibly achievable for this one, which is a relief compared to some of the more intimidating ones from the 2 base games.

Personal rating: 9/10 (I just love this style of game and this universe)

The D game poll results:

Next game is E!

[nahasadult]

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It is recommended that you update the graphics drivers if you have not so far. Dishonored: Death of the Outsider v1.142.3.8 +1 TRAINER 2 Dishonored: Death of the Outsider v1.142.3.8 +14 TRAINER Dishonored: Death of the Outsider v1.142.3. Well, if you do not, find Dishonored 2 within your Steam client, right click and open 'Properties', where under 'Betas' select 'BetaPatch' from the drop-down menu and check whether it helps.

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If you already have a previous patch, this one should download itself.

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Still remained some minor difficulties to take care of what you can see at the bottom of this report on Steam, where you will find a full list of changes and fixes. Developers originally offered advice to improve performance, and then eject the first beta patch, but none of it has removed most of the problems as well as expected and warned.įortunately, we didn`t had to wait long time for the second version of the patch, and this is much more extensive, and should fix many problems that plague users.

#Steam beta download dishonored 2 fix Patch#

When done, Dishonored 2 should appear in our Library.The new beta patch for the PC version of Dishonored 2 is available and solves many problems, we recommend that you download via Steam.Įven birds on the tree knows that the PC version of Dishonored 2 has technical problems during execution and a lot of people rebelling in the achieved performance.

Right Click on Dishonored 2 in your Library.

Update 1.2 development is underway and will address a broader range of issues including performance and is estimated to be available in the next week. There's a whole range of problems addressed. If you run into issues or have questions please let us know in the public Dishonored 2 Steam Beta Forums on . Another Dishonored 2 patch is in beta on Steam, improving an array of performance issues some players have been experiencing in Arkane's immersive sim. You can play either as Emily or as Corvo Attano and use your impressive array of. The game is built using Void, a new DirectX 11 engine based on id Softwares RAGE engine.

#Steam beta download dishonored 2 fix driver#

NVIDIA driver 375.95 We have identified an issue with drivers 375.70 &amp 375. Update 1.2 will replaced Update 1.1 for players who already downloaded the previous update. NVIDIA driver 375.95 is recommended in addition to Update 1.2. Update 1.2 includes a large number of fixes. Fixes an issue affecting CPU task priority - the game no longer switches CPU task priority Dishonored 2 is now out, allowing gamers to sharpen their killer instincts and execute targets as quick as possible. Dishonored 2 gives you the choice to either be stealthy, fight or avoid conflict. Dishonored 2s latest title update (v 1.2) is now available on Steam.Fixes an AMD cloth physics issue, which impacts framerates at various points in the game.Mouse improvements, including a fix for sensitivity being framerate dependent The update for Dishonored 2 releases alongside the launch of of version 375.95 Nvidia drivers, and its recommended for players to download these before playing.Update 1.1 includes a small number of fixes including: As we have new information on drivers for both card types, we will update our forums.Īdditionally, a new title update for Dishonored 2 (v 1.1) is now available via Steam as a Beta update – see below for instructions. Where Dishonored 2 beta patch 1.1 included three major issues, update 1.2 is much weightier - there's a long list of crash fixes. Theres a whole range of problems addressed. Dishonored 2 PC players can opt-in to a second beta patch on Steam. Look for more information from AMD on CrossFire support in the near future. Another Dishonored 2 patch is in beta on Steam, improving an array of performance issues some players have been experiencing in Arkanes immersive sim. If you continue, well assume that you are happy with our cookies policy. NVIDIA driver 375.95 Link įor users with AMD cards, the recommended driver is still 16.10.2. Gamereactor uses cookies to ensure that we give you the best browsing experience on our website. PC users on NVIDIA cards should grab this driver update before playing. Today we’re beginning the process with new NVIDIA PC drivers (375.95) and our first post-release title update (Update 1.1). Just like the previous beta versions, this one comes with bug fixes and remedies for general issues that plagued Arkane. We’re working to address some of these with our updates over time, and some will be addressed by driver updates released by our partners. A new beta update for Dishonored 2 is now available for download. Update 1. When Dishonored 2 was launched, the game experienced PC performance problems on machines with specific configurations. Additionally, a new title update for Dishonored 2 (v 1.1) is now available via Steam as a Beta update see below for instructions.

[lacontroller1991]

Cabin in the Woods (Rick Flag x Platonic!F!Reader)

Author's Note: This fic is inspired by THIS gif set from @ijustthinkrickflagisprettyneat

Main Master List DC Master List

Warnings: language, talk of death

Synopsis: Rick goes missing and you're the only one who knows where he is.

==========

Two weeks. Two weeks since the Battle of Midway. Two weeks since the task force saved the city (and the world) from annihilation. Two weeks since the Enchantress died. Two weeks since June Moone died with her. Two weeks since Rick Flag’s disappearance. After the rubble and dust and smoke cleared, Rick was left kneeling over nothing more than a corpse, the ancient witch having taken Rick’s lover with her. The squad remained silent in shock, after all, what more could you say to somebody who just killed the only person they ever loved. After Waller had deducted 10 years off of everybody’s prison statement, Rick had decided to ‘take a vacation’ and dipped out of Belle Reve, disappearing to somewhere that no one will be able to find him. No one except you.

Placing the car in park, you eye the cabin from the outside. Lights off, curtains closed, and porch dirty. Had it not been for the slight glow of a small bonfire recently put out, you would have assumed that no one was home. Letting out a sigh, you clutch the file in your hand and walk up the creaking steps, alerting Rick of your arrival. 

The door swings open and you’re met with the colonel, in worse shape than you thought he would be in. His shirt hangs off his normally lean but built frame. His eye circles are even darker than before. His facial hair now grown out and spread across his chiseled jaw, and even his posture caves in on himself. “Jesus Rick, you look like shit.”

“Ha,” he rolls his eyes, obviously not finding the statement amusing, or just not caring as he steps to the side allowing you to enter the small house. “What are you doing here?”

“No one could find you or get ahold of you, so I thought I’d swing by. Check in on you.”

“I don’t need you to check on me,” you know he meant his words to be bitter and angry but they came out tired and defeated. “I don’t need your pity.” You sit down on the couch and eye his position against the wall, fidgeting slightly as his hazel eyes scan over your body and landing on the folder. “What’s in there?”

You look down and open the manilla folder, flipping through the papers, internally cringing. “A mission and papers for desertion.” His eyes widen as you grimace. “Waller said that if you don’t come back within the next 2 days, she’ll court-martial you for desertion and you’ll be dishonorably discharged.” He snatches the file out of your hands and reads it over in anger.

“How can she do that? I’m not even hers. I’m still on vacation.”

“Rick. It’s been two weeks. You’re long past the perimeters of vacation time.”

“It’s been two weeks?” He sinks down onto the spot next to you, grabbing fistfuls of his shaggy hair. “I’ve only been gone for three days.”

“Flag…You’ve been gone for two weeks. I can’t keep coming up with excuses for you when Waller asks where you are. She knows you’re missing and she’s going to have these papers finalized unless you come back,” he eyes you, tears welling in his eyes as he leans into you, his head resting on your shoulder as you throw an arm around him, holding the colonel close to your body. 

“I can’t go back. I lost June. I don’t know what to do anymore,” his sobs rack through his body as you attempt to soothe him, though it doesn’t work. Truth being told, you lost somebody too in the past year and it’s been eating away at you ever since, but you need to be strong. Not just for yourself but for Rick. 

“You can lead this fucking squad. You’re the most capable leader there is. They need you, Rick. You’re the reason none of them got seriously injured. They need you, Flag. I can’t lead them all by myself. I need you. So please, just come back with me?” He sits back in contemplation, his body still lightly fidgeting, from what though, you don’t know.

“Guess I don’t have a choice, do I?” You unwrap your arm from his shoulder and straighten out your jacket.

“No, not really.” Silence falls between you two for a minute before you clear your throat. “Look, I know losing somebody isn’t easy, but Rick, you can’t shut everybody out. You can’t just hide away from it because at the end of the day, they’re still dead. I should know. I went through the whole grieving process and it’s better when you have somebody to talk to. Somebody who will listen. So just please, come on back.” 

“Alright. I’ll go,” he stands and extends his hand, hoisting you up and packing his duffle bag before flinging it over his shoulder and wiping away his unshed tears. “So. What’s the mission?”

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @infatuatedjanes @niki-xie

Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @witchygagirl @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @heart-0n-fire @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @mattymurdocksbitch @katjnordstrom96 @bb-skyrunner @ed-baldwin @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma @sociiallydiisoriiented @violetmuses

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 30

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 4006

Warnings: Mention of death, alcohol poisoning

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Queen Stand By You

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30

Juliette

Juliette had no idea what she was doing or how she would get out of this if the favors Cyclone owed her dad weren't on the same level as to what she did. I mean, Juliette still figured Cyclone wouldn't want Admiral Kane knowing what she did, but regardless, would they work?

She was about to find out.

Juliette arrived shortly after Maverick. On the outside, he remained calm and collected, but she could see the fear in his green eyes. He risked being court-marshaled and dishonorably discharged, of being stripped of everything he'd earned. Juliette needed to step up for him one more time today in a big way.

Cyclone approached them with thinly-veiled anger. "Both of you. In my office. Now."

"Sir," Juliette said, trying to sound as respectful as possible, "may I please speak with you first? Alone?"

"You are in no place to make requests, Miss Kazansky."

"I know, which is why I wouldn't ask unless it was absolutely necessary. Please, sir?" Juliette put on a pleading tone and gave Cyclone what she hoped were puppy dog eyes. It worked on him when she was a child. She prayed it did now.

The admiral acquiesced, letting out an annoyed sigh and saying, "You have two minutes to make your point."

Juliette followed Cyclone into his office, and Warlock shut the door behind them, and she stood with her hands clasped neatly in front of her to hide the shaking. Cyclone sat in his seat and stared her down with hard eyes. He demanded, "I've seen civilians do a lot of stupid things during my career when they work with the Navy, but this? This takes the cake. What the hell were you thinking, Juliette?!"

"I was doing what needed to be done," she replied coolly. "You told Maverick that the only thing he taught the pilots was that the course and mission were unflyable and undoable, so I helped him prove to you and the others that it was achievable."

"By stealing an F-18 and having it flown in such a way, it may never be usable again!"

"We didn't steal it. We temporarily misappropriated it."

Cyclone glowered at her. "Semantics. You took it without my permission."

"Yes, we did, but we got the permission elsewhere." Juliette shifted on her feet, the words she knew would irritate the admiral further, but she had to say them. "Sir, with all due respect, you never wanted Maverick here. My dad ordered you to have him teach the special training detachment. Maverick may have created the course, but you had to approve it, and you did. Then, when Dad died, you saw an opportunity to get rid of Maverick because you believe he taught the aviators that it couldn't be done. Obviously, it can. Dad knew Maverick could do it. Dad also knew Maverick could not only teach the pilots how to navigate the course successfully but, more importantly, teach them how to complete it and return home alive rather than in a casket."

Juliette knew she had struck a nerve with Cyclone when she noticed the tics in his jaw and how he leaned back in his chair. "That doesn't excuse the fact you helped him commandeer an F-18 and-"

"It's what my dad would've done."

"You seriously think Admiral Kazansky would've illegally flown with Maverick to prove a mission could be done?"

"You don't?" Juliette countered with more fire than she intended. "Dad protected Maverick the moment he had the power to. He would've done anything for Mav. My 'ice-cold, no mistakes' father buzzed a tower just because Maverick asked him to before they were even that close. Dad went up against Admiral Benjamin for Maverick before he had the status and power himself. Dad continuously risked his career and reputation for Maverick because he knew the value Mav brought to the Navy, the value he still brings. He is the best of the best, and you let personal feelings get in the way of your decision to keep him here. Dad isn't here to protect Maverick from the people who would love nothing more than to see him grounded for good, but I am. I may not be an Admiral or member of the Navy, but I don't have to be because I have the same knowledge my dad did, and I know you owe him favors that have yet to be cashed in."

"What do you mean?" Cyclone narrowed his gaze at her, obviously not trusting her words.

"New Orleans, February 20, 1996."

The vice admiral blanched. "You- no. You weren't even ten when that happened. You can't know about that."

"Oh, but I do." Juliette barely held back her grin as she sang softly, "Rock me like a hurricane!"

"Wha-"

"I think those hurricane drinks rocked you like a hurricane," Juliette remarked. "You ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning from it and missed a crucial meeting the next day. Had Dad not covered for you, you risked losing your career in the Navy. I think that favor aligns with saving Maverick from being dishonorably discharged for 'temporarily misappropriating' an F-18."

Cyclone's brow furrowed. "You're using that to protect him instead of yourself?"

"Yes, sir. Maverick has a lot more to lose than I do from this. All I did was make a call to someone else who owed Dad a favor to line up the plane for us. It was done by the books, just... discreetly. Besides, I'm using July 4, 2000 as my favor to get out of trouble."

Juliette knew she had him when he leaned forward and braced his elbow on his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know you already know what happened, but to make sure you're not bluffing, tell me what I did."

"It's more like who you did, sir. I'll put it in three words." Juliette held up a finger for one. "Admiral Kane's daughter."

"Yeah, you know," Cyclone muttered, sighing. "You came armed with these favors, so you knew you'd need them, so lay out your full offer Jules."

"The July 4 favor will keep me at Maverick's side on the special training detachment. The February 20 favor will reinstate Maverick as trainer with no repercussions for flying the F-18." Juliette took a deep breath, knowing what she was about to say could change the outcome of many things, but deep down, she knew it's what Maverick wanted. If he could send one less person to their potential death by going himself, he would do it in a heartbeat. "I would also ask that you consider sending Maverick as the lead pilot for the mission."

This garnered Cyclone's attention. "Juliette-"

"I know it sounds crazy, and I hate even suggesting it because I know I'm possibly sending Maverick to his death, and the idea of losing him so soon after my dad-" Juliette's voice cracked, and she temporarily averted her gaze to the floor, taking a moment to gather her composure. "The idea of losing Maverick on top of my dad is unfathomable to me, but he also proved he could do it. He's the only one who's successfully done every part of the course, and he did it on the first try. I'm not asking you to do it as part of the favor; I'm just asking you to consider it, although I think we both know it's what needs to be done."

A heavy silence fell between the two of them. Juliette wondered if she'd gone too far requesting Maverick be sent up, but at the same time, she knew he'd be sending Rooster, even if he didn't realize it himself. Her boyfriend would be ready in time. After all, he had been the only one to complete the course with both himself and his wingman alive on the first try, regardless of the time limit, and he was consistently the closest to bombing the target. He would be going on the mission, and having Maverick up there with Rooster would give Juliette's worried mind a little bit of relief.

Cyclone stood up and approached her. Juliette forced herself not to cower under his intense gaze. He sighed and said, "You'll remain to assist Maverick on the special detachment. When I speak with Captain Mitchell, I will inform him of his reinstatement and that he will go as the squadron leader for this mission."

A dizzying wave of relief and anxiety flooded through Juliette. She was simultaneously grateful to have Maverick up there with Rooster and petrified that she could lose both of them. Of course, what were the odds that would happen? She had to tell herself that. Otherwise, the reality was too mind-numbingly depressing.

"Thank you, sir. Thank y-" Juliette's voice disappeared in her throat because no words could convey her gratitude. Instead, her body acting out of its own accord, she hugged the vice admiral. The gesture took him by surprise, and it took him a couple of seconds to return it.

"I'm sorry about your father, Juliette," Cyclone said gently, rubbing her back before pulling away. "While I'm still not happy with what you've done, I see your points, and you are, without a doubt, your father's daughter."

Juliette beamed. "Thank you, sir. You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that."

"Just try not to do anything like this again. I know you wouldn't have done it unless you truly believed Maverick was worth it, but even I have limits on what I can hide from my superiors. I can figure out a way to fix this, but-"

"Don't worry, I don't plan on temporarily misappropriating more planes, sir."

"Stealing planes, you mean?"

"Semantics," she said, smiling impishly at him. The corners of the admiral's lips tugged upward into a ghost of a smile. "Am I excused?"

"Yes. Send Maverick and Warlock in on your way out."

Juliette exited the room, unsure how she'd just pulled that off. She informed Maverick and Warlock they could go in, sending a reassuring smile to the former, although judging by the well-veiled worry in his eyes, Jules was pretty sure it didn't work. 

Deep in thought over the next steps, between training and the fact Maverick might be leading the mission, Juliette hardly paid attention to where her feet led her and had no memory of her trip to the break room. She only realized she was there when multiple voices exclaimed her name. Juliette looked up to find her pilots all standing up and staring at her with a mixture of awe and worry. She momentarily locked eyes with Rooster, who stood in the back. His apologetic expression told her he hadn't intended for everyone to show up.

"What are you doing here?" Juliette asked, walking over to them.

"Waiting to see what the verdict was on you borrowing that F-18," Rooster replied. Even from across the room, she could see the tension in his muscles, the anticipation in his dark eyes. Scanning the other aviators, they appeared almost as anxiously eager for her news as her boyfriend.

Juliette couldn't resist. "Well, I don't know how to put this..." she started grimly, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets. Jules smiled slyly, if not a little shyly, as she wondered if she should be joking about this. "But it looks like you're stuck with me until you deploy."

Loud cheers went up around the room, and the pilots crowded around her. Although she knew the pilots liked her, Juliette hadn't expected this reaction from them, to have them celebrate that she got to stay. It made her feel like they weren't just hers, but that she was theirs too. Someone hugged her from behind, lifting her into the air. It turned out to be Coyote. 

"How the hell did you pull that off?!" Omaha inquired, voicing the question that had been on everyone's mind. "Borrowing the plane and getting away with it?"

Juliette shrugged. "I called in some favors."

Payback, seeming both impressed and intimidated, asked, "The fuck kind of favors do people owe you here?"

"I'm not telling you that. I have to keep some secrets, you know."

"I think Princess here deserves some drinks," Hangman declared, which was followed by loud support from the other pilots. 

Juliette checked her watch, grimacing at the time. "I would, but I need to pick up my dogs."

What she left out was the fact she would have to deal with Joey. The last thing Juliette wanted to do was talk to her eldest brother after this morning. Still, she'd promised to be back in time for dinner if she could, and unfortunately, time allowed her to.

"Can I get a rain check on those drinks?" Juliette requested, smiling apologetically at the pilots. "I promised I'd have dinner with my family tonight too. What about tomorrow?"

"We're holding you to that," Fanboy said, pointing firmly at her.

"I wouldn't dream of letting you down. I'll see you tomorrow at training."

The aviators bid her goodbye, including Rooster, to her surprise. At first, she thought he might be mad at her for the joke she'd played on them, but when he pulled her into a hug, he whispered, "I'll meet you at your car."

Rooster discreetly kissed the crook of her neck, and she parted ways with the pilots in the hallway. Juliette strolled casually through the hallways, wondering if she could get through dinner without the rest of her family picking up on her annoyance with Joey. Jack might because he had his hand full with his own kids, but her mom certainly would. She picked up on everything. 

As Juliette reached her car, she found Rooster waiting for her, leaning casually against the driver's side door and looking much too handsome doing such a simple thing. She found herself picking up speed, trying not to run into his arms when that was all she wanted to do because now that the adrenaline was wearing off, dread was settling in at the idea of having to go inside her parent's house without her dad there. It didn't feel like home without him.

Rooster lifted Jules into his arms the moment she reached him, hugging her like they'd been separated for years rather than minutes.

"I'm so glad I don't have to visit you in prison," he said, setting her down and giving her a kiss.

"That makes two of us," she replied, bracing her forehead against his chest and closing her eyes. He kissed the top of her head, making Juliette smile. "I wish I could go out with everyone tonight. I'd much rather do that than go home."

"Still don't want to be in the house?"

"No, and Joey and I had a fight this morning, so I have to face him too, and I just really don't want to."

"What was the fight about?"

Juliette sighed before giving him the details, telling him that even though she knew the pilots liked her, Joey's words still hit a little too close to home to her initial insecurity, that they were just her pilots but that she wasn't theirs. "I know I'm not a pilot or-or an intelligence specialist, that I only design planes, but I-"

"Only design planes?" Rooster scoffed. "Jules, you've known how an F-18 flies and functions before even your brothers did; same with the F-22 and F-35. Probably the F-14 too. You've grown up learning from your dad and Mav about flying and missions and strategy, you call things how you see it, and you're good at de-escalating situations. You are more valuable than you know to the team, and believe me, if they didn't see you as one of them, they wouldn't have invited you tonight. They wouldn't have waited with me to hear the verdict on what would happen to you for borrowing the plane."

"Thank you for calling it that instead," Juliette said. "Cyclone was adamant on saying we stole it."

Rooster chuckled. "I mean, you gave it back, so is it really stealing? I think not. But I digress. Do you want me to head home with you? Act as a buffer between you and Joey? Maybe I can direct some of his ire towards me instead."

Juliette frowned. "I thought you two were okay. You seemed fine at the end of Dad's funeral?"

"We got on the same page, but he did threaten that if I hurt you like I did before, he would end my career because death would be too easy of an out."

"He said what?!" she demanded furiously, pulling away from him. Making rude comments and insulting her was one thing, but threatening Rooster? Especially at a funeral? Juliette's temper was boiling. "I'm going to-"

"Not say a word that I told you because it's not going to happen," Bradley interrupted calmly, tugging his girlfriend back into his arms. "It's why I seemed so calm when we approached. I'm not worried about it."

"It doesn't matter if you're not worried. It doesn't give him a right to threaten you!"

"Jules-"

"No. Bitching to me is one thing. Going after you is another. Going after any of you would set me off!"

"He can threaten me as much as he likes because it's not going to affect me or intimidate me. I'm not scared of losing my career because I don't plan on leaving you. Not again. If you want, and if it's okay with your family, I'll be more than happy to come to dinner tonight and be the buffer."

"But you have so much else going between training for the mission and the anxiety-inducing anticipation of the mission and the stress of Maverick being here and-"

"Juliette!" Rooster interrupted, cupping her face. "I wouldn't offer if I couldn't handle it. Besides, you don't have to fight every battle alone."

She pursed her lips, hating how well he still knew her even after all the time they'd been apart. Maybe the saying was true, that times changed and people didn't. She certainly hadn't. "Fine. Let me call my mom, let her know I'm heading home."

Juliette dialed her mom's number. Sarah Kazansky picked up after the second ring. "Hi, honey! Are you on your way for dinner?"

"Yeah, I'm just talking with Rooster before I leave," she replied, not wanting to ask if he could come over since it was so last minute but also knowing her mom well enough to predict the Kazansky matriarch would invite the aviator.

She did. "Oh, bring him too! Liam and Tommy just heard you say his name, and they're begging for him to come over."

Juliette chuckled. "All right, tell the boys he's coming too. We'll head over shortly. Do you need anything from the store on our way home?"

"No, Joey got stuff earlier. We'll see you soon! Love you!"

Bidding her mom goodbye, Juliette shoved her phone into her pocket and turned to her boyfriend. "All right, you asked for this. You're coming."

"Great! I'll take my car and follow you there," Bradley said, leaning down and pecking her on the lips. Juliette watched him bolt to his car, wondering what she'd done to deserve a boyfriend like Rooster, a man willing to take on the wrath of her brother just so she wouldn't have to, even though it was her fight in the first place. Juliette knew she didn't have to fight every battle alone, but she rarely let others help. Not only did she feel like it was her burden to bear, but she didn't want to encumber other people with her problems. It wasn't in Juliette's nature to open up except to people she trusted, either. However, she figured Rooster would've continued insisting he join her, and she had no fight left in her after today. Having a buffer between her and Joey would be nice.

Choosing not to dawdle any longer, Juliette slid into her car and headed home. Rooster's blue Bronco stayed close behind. They parked against the curb in front of her house and walked inside together. Before Jules could open her mouth to announce their presence, Raptor and Lightning came sliding around the corner to greet her, with Tommy, Liam, and Mitchell right behind them. The twins went straight for Rooster while the dogs and Mitchell went for Juliette, who hugged them all tightly. It'd been months since she'd last seen her eldest nephew, and he'd always gravitated towards her since he was a baby. Even now, Mitchell would always try and be with her in whatever she was doing, whether it be work, chores, or play. Juliette hoped he never grew out of that.

"Hi, honey!" Sarah Kazansky greeted, hugging them. "You're just in time for dinner. Boys, why don't you show Rooster to the kitchen while I talk to Aunt Jules?"

Anxiety settled into Jules's bones, wondering why her mom needed to talk to her. Did she find out about today with the F-18? Did she find out that Juliette essentially threatened Cyclone with two favors to get away with it? Did she-

"What happened between you and Joey?" her mom asked gently. 

Juliette's eyes widened. "How did you-"

"Jack said he heard you two talking pretty heatedly this morning, and Mav told me you'd mentioned an argument with Joey earlier. What was it about?"

"Oh... it's nothing. It's fine. Besides, dinner will be ready soon and-"

Sarah Kazansky raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Your brother's been in a foul mood all day, and Mav said you looked ready to kill someone when you arrived at training this morning. Dinner won't be ready for another twenty minutes, and Jack and Joey have a handle on it. Talk to me, Jules."

Knowing she wouldn't get out of this, Juliette told her mom what both she and Joey had said to each other, guilt flooding her for burdening her mom with the information when the last thing she needed on top of her husband's death was her children fighting with each other. "We both said things we shouldn't have, and we'll get past it, so don't worry about us, okay?"

"Do you think the pilots would like to come over sometime this week?" her mom queried, taking her daughter by surprise. "Maverick and Hondo, too, of course. Lillian heads home with the boys on Tuesday, but Jack is staying a little longer. Same with Joey. They'll be working, though, so the house will be quiet most of the day, and I'm sure they'd get rid of the solemness in this place, at least temporarily. Maybe it'd show your brother he was wrong about your position with the pilots, too."

"That's fourteen additional mouths to feed. Are you sure you're up for that?"

"You know I already make enough food to feed fourteen people when your brothers are here because they're an army themselves, so yes, absolutely. I'd like to meet the people who have become so dear to you, too. Let's say Thursday night. You reach out to them, let me know how many agree by Wednesday night, and we'll work from there." Sarah squeezed Juliette's arm affectionately. "Come on, let's make sure the boys aren't causing trouble."

Juliette smiled as she followed her mom to the kitchen. Jack and Joey were at the stove; Rooster sat between the twins and Mitchell at the bar, telling them some story from his childhood. The boys listened eagerly, all leaning forward into their chairs. Upon seeing Juliette, Bradley held out his arm, silently motioning for her to join them. She did, and he pulled her tightly against him, kissing her shoulder before continuing his story. It was something about what he and his friends did at the Academy. Juliette found herself laughing along with the boys, and for the rest of the evening, she forgot about her woes, her stress, and her problems and simply enjoyed being with her family.

***

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[helliontherapscallion]

Privileges (Adrenaline Junkie Part 11)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: slight description of death/injury/illness, small description of homelessness, slight panic attack

Word count: 2,845

You and Arthur sat at the top of the cliff for a while sitting in silence. Glancing at the sun’s position, you guessed that it’s been a couple of hours. You continued to wait patiently for him to gather his courage that you knew he had. He looked conflicted. 

The wild herds of livestock grazed peacefully below you, filling the silence with various moos and oinks. Various flowers colorfully dotted the green grass with multiple shades of vibrant blues, yellows, whites, and reds. The few clouds that littered the baby blue sky rolled endlessly above you, giving you a sense of peace and entertainment when you tried to make out mobs from the abstract shapes. The breeze lightly blew against your skin making you shiver every now and then from the feeling of it working its way through your feathers and hair. It was a perfect day for flying.

While you were waiting, you took out the snacks and water and handed them to Arthur. He originally didn’t want them, but you insisted he at least drink something today. He needed hydration if he was going to sit under the hot sun for hours. Every time he would take a deep breath (which was often), you would perk up and look at him ready to fully divert your attention towards him, only to look elsewhere when he would sigh. You were starting to lose your patience, but you knew you had to hold out for Arthur. That poor kid looks like he’s been through a lot in such a short amount of time. 

You mindlessly munched on a granola bar. The chocolate and grain danced on your tastebuds in perfect harmony like an old married couple gleefully waltzing at their grandchild's wedding. Washing down the taste with water, you feel the cool liquid slither it’s way down your throat, relieving parts with it’s refreshing properties. You let your mind wander to your brothers.

Technoblade, ever the individualistic, nonconforming anarchist, lived a couple of hours outside the outskirts of the Dream SMP lands. You visited his house once and it was nice, but you really didn’t like the cold. Your metal prosthetic froze to your amputated wing and it took several painful hours of waiting by the fireplace for it to unstick to your feathers. Techno appeared indifferent of the situation, but you knew he cared deep down. He always was a softie for his family members. 

Wilbur was in his element in L’manberg. Leadership came naturally for him, and you were immensely grateful for that. Without him, L’manberg would’ve gone down in history with dishonor. L’manberg was thriving under his just rule. Infrastructure was slowly starting to spread throughout the entirety of the small nation, making it easier to travel. You always flew everywhere, much to the disapproval of Wilbur (“(y/n), can’t you just use the roads I just built?”), so the infrastructure never really affected your daily life. You appreciated that he was working so hard to build his symphony up from measure one to the end. He was truly the heart and soul of his great nation.

Tommy was… well for lack of a better description, Tommy. You were incredibly proud of him, giving up his prized music discs was a gigantic sacrifice for him. It really showed how much he grew up from being the toddler you met a little over a decade ago. Your little brother wreaked havoc in L’manberg, but a good kind of havoc. Tommy and his partner in crime Tubbo were the ones that eased tension during the War. Even after the War, they always actively searched for adventure. They made people smile as they would run past, they knew they were in for a show later on in the day. Tommy and Tubbo gave the nation life outside of its physical growth, they were the morale of the nation. 

You supposed that you were somewhat important to L’manberg, but not as important as your brothers. Sure, they used your inventions to help fight Dream and his goons, but they would’ve been able to do that without your creations. Though, it was satisfying to see the looks on their faces when the L’manbergians whipped out the portable TNT launchers and automatic crossbows to absolutely decimate them. You didn’t really supply L’manberg with physical or morale growth, you were just… there. In your cramped workshop. Tinkering endlessly with inventions that you hoped would make people’s lives easier. 

“(Y/n), I’m ready.”

You jumped a little, turning to him and giving him what you hoped was an encouraging smile. He took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at you.

“It started when I was seven. Mama and Papa were sick. We didn’t have enough money to pay for a doctor, so me and my brother Hugh were trying our best to take care of them. We weren’t good enough though, they died after a couple weeks. 

“People came to take us away from Mama and Papa, but Hugh told me to run away as far as I could. He told me that he’d be right behind me. So, we ran to the woods. He said that he knew a few people that lived there that’d be able to help. We lived with them for three years, they were nice people. 

“One day, they needed supplies so me and Hugh went to go find a cave. The cave we found was really pretty, it had tons of redstone and iron. We went deeper and deeper til we found a huger cave. It had tons of feathers there and some red brown stuff on the walls.” You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized that those were probably yours. You wondered if they were still down there.

His voice started to get strained and wobbly. “A-and we saw it. Hugh told me to hide and not make any noise so I did and… and it killed him.”

Tears steadily dribbled down Arthur’s freckled cheeks as his lip wobbled and his nose turned as red as his hair. He was starting to hyperventilate. You reached over and pulled Arthur into a tight winged hug. You gently rubbed his back and whispered reassurances into his ear.

“It’s alright Arthur, please breathe with me. In,” you took a deep breath, “and out.” You let out the breath. Even though his breath was steady a few minutes later, you still kept him in a tight hug. It absolutely devastated you that he went through so much in his short life. He started sobbing again.

“(Y/n), it took his soul! Hugh’s still down there with it!” He blubbered out.Your hand froze on his shoulder. 

What. It can’t take souls, could it? That’s not possible, right? …Right? You were going to have to ask Philza about it, but Arthur is your first and only priority right now. His loud sobs were slightly muffled by your shoulder as you felt your shirt get slightly wet with his tears. You did your best to comfort him, but you weren’t used to comforting a child that just lost his only family. 

“I’ll never let that happen to you again. I promise.”

You sat with Arthur protectively wrapped in your arms until you saw that the sun was going to set in the next few minutes. Not good, not good at all. You looked down at Arthur, his eyes were closed in a deep sleep, taking deep shuddering breaths in and out. Good, you needed to get him out of there and you didn’t want to traumatize him anymore than he already is by showing him how mobs react when you’re near them. 

You hastily packed up your stuff before taking off as quickly as you could without waking the sleeping boy. You flew as fast as you could through the air, keeping a tight grip on Arthur as you cut through the darkening sky. You could see zombies, skeletons, spiders, and the occasional enderman below you. Luckily, they didn’t notice you as you flew overhead. 

Just as the lit up house entered your line of sight, you felt something whiz past you accompanied by a strong gust of wind. Looking down, you realized that it was a skeleton. It shooting an arrow garnered the attention of the surrounding mobs as they turned their heads to look directly at you. Shit.

You pushed yourself to fly faster and twisted your body so that if an arrow were to land, it would hit you and not Arthur. You felt the air around you shift as a myriad of arrows were shot at you. Dodging the best you could, you glanced down at Arthur. Still asleep. Good, he didn’t need to see this.

Getting closer to the house, you lowered yourself to the ground fully and pushed your feet against the grass, running for dear life as you heard a fwoosh of air right next to your ear. FInally, you reached the doorknob and swung the door open. Flinging yourself and Arthur inside, you slammed the door behind you, hearing the banging of arrows hitting the wood. 

You leaned against the door panting and closed your eyes, clutching Arthur closer to you in relief. You opened your eyes and peered down at his face. Still asleep? How much of a deep sleeper was this kid? Maybe he was just extremely emotionally tired from earlier. That’s probably how he impossibly slept through all that. 

You pushed yourself off the door and headed up to Wilbur’s, well Arthur’s room so you could put him to bed. You peeled the covers back and placed him gently on the mattress. You covered his body with the heavy comforter and tucked him in. His face visibly relaxed and a slight smile quirked onto his lips. You took a deep breath and stood there watching him. That was certainly a close one. Way too close for your tastes. You almost got him killed because you lost track of time. 

You swept the bangs out of his eyes and left the room, gently closing the door behind you. You tiredly drug yourself down the stairs to the kitchen so you could at least grab a small snack before passing out in the comfort of your bed. Today was just not your day. At least you’d get a decent night’s sleep tonight. 

Walking into the kitchen, you saw Philza sitting at the table looking at you with… was that relief or anger? Or a mix? He stood up and quickly walked over to you. You tensed up, fully expecting to get yelled at, only to feel him hug you. You melted into his touch and felt small tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You really needed a hug after today.

“Don’t ever do that again. I don’t care that you’re an adult, do you know how worried I was? I thought you and Arthur got hurt. He’s just a child and you’re on your last life (y/n). You need to be more careful.”

You didn’t say anything. You just buried your face into his shoulder and let out a silent sob. “I was so scared Arthur was gonna get hurt, I didn’t know what to do.”

The emotion you were holding in all day from sleep deprivation and lack of nutrients completely spilled out. You felt pathetic, crying in your dad’s arms like you were a kid again. He rubbed soothing circles on your back and led you to the couch where you both sat in each other’s arms. Once you calmed down, you pulled away and wiped at your eyes, facing away from him so he didn’t see your weakness. 

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t sleep at all last night and everything just… came out.”

“Hey,” he chided gently, making you look at him, “don’t apologize for feeling emotions. You were bottling it all up weren’t you?”

You nodded shamefully. “...And what did I tell you and your brothers about holding it in?”

“Not to do it.” Your croaky voice cracked out. 

He smiled at you. “That’s my kid. Did you talk to Arthur?”

“Yeah. He’s actually alone, Dad. He doesn’t have anyone out there for him. And he… he said that they saw my feathers and blood down there on the walls and floor. Saw his brother get killed right in front of him… mentioned something about The Warden stealing his brother’s soul? It can’t do that right?”

You were met with silence. “...Right? Dad, you’re scaring me.”

“Yes, The Warden takes the souls of it’s dead. It’s how they live so long, they trap the souls in their chests and feast on the lifespans in rations until the soul is completely integrated into it’s very being.”

So that’s what the screaming white wisps that haunted your nightmares were. They were the souls of the dead. They were screaming in agony when The Warden killed you, so you thought they still held onto their humanity. You remembered hearing thousands of screams echoing off from the stony walls of the dark cave. Shuttering, you remembered how some of the souls stared at you in desperation and despair. 

“...So the souls are trapped with it forever?”

He nodded, not looking at you. The Warden killed you in your first life, why were you still… still you? It doesn’t make sense. 

You swallowed thickly. “Then why didn’t it take mine?”

“I don’t know hun, I wish I could tell you why. I thought you died for good before you respawned. I thought it took your soul.” His voice cracked slightly at the end.

You pulled him into a hug. “It didn’t and I’m still here. That’s the important part, Dad. I’m still here.”

Continuing to give him comfort, you trailed off as you remembered your first death. What could’ve prevented it from taking your soul like the rest? You blanched thinking about what it would’ve been like to be stuck with The Warden indefinitely. Trapped and suffering until it was fully integrated into it’s monstrous body for the rest of eternity. It sounded like hell on Earth. Before today, you thought death was the absolute worst outcome, but you were mistaken. You were given the mercy, no the privilege, of death that day. 

Was it because of the stone platform you landed on? That must’ve been it, there’s no other way you could’ve respawned if you landed anywhere else; the stone platform was the only space you could’ve landed that was far enough above the ground to bleed out. You remembered how your shattered ribs would grind together as you endlessly sobbed and the hot blood dripping off from your forehead and wing warming up your rapidly cooling form. Dying like that was a privilege compared to what the lost souls of the miners endured. You didn’t know how long they’ve been in there, but you still would rather die like that a thousand times over than have to be trapped inside that thing for all of eternity. 

Your thought process was interrupted as Philza pulled away and wiped the tears from his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was slightly blotchy, it’s been a while since you’ve seen him like that. He’s always been strong for you and your brothers. 

“...Why don’t we grab some dinner before we go to bed, I assume you didn’t eat…?”

His sheepish look gave you all the answers you needed. “There’s some leftover mushroom soup we could eat.”

You stood up and gave him a bright smile. “Let’s dig in then, I’m starving!”

He laughed as you pulled him off the couch and into the kitchen. “Did you eat anything after breakfast?”

You paused slightly then continued to pour the soup into two bowls. “...That’s not important.”

He pursed his lips. “(Y/n).”

“I had like a quarter of a granola bar if that counts.”

“(Y/n) you went through the day with only half your breakfast and a few cups of coffee in your system?”

“I know, I know, not healthy. But that still doesn’t take away from the fact that you didn’t eat dinner either.” You slid the bowl over to him across the table. 

His eyes narrowed in thought before he sighed in defeat. “Touché.”

You snorted and started to eat your soup. You hummed as the earthy flavor shimmied around in your mouth comforting you after today’s events. You automatically felt better after eating. You always found comfort in food. Before you knew it, both you and Philza were done with your dinners and were leaning back in your chairs. You felt your eyes start to droop against your will.

“Why don’t you go to bed and I can clean up. You look like you’re gonna pass out.” He snickered. You hummed in agreement, too tired to argue and murmured out a quiet “thanks. G’night, love ya.” You drug your feet up the stairs and plop down on your bed, passing out instantly as soon as your head hit the pillow.

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[flameohotfamily]

Headcanons for avatar!Mai and maiko?

that’s really interesting au and i have some thoughts (another long-long post, yes), but before that here are a few remarks:

the spiritual collapse happened after avatar’s roku death and the new avatar should’ve been born in the fire nation again.

iroh vanished (ran away) after azulon’s death.

ozai didn’t banish zuko after the agni kai.

 so, here is my avatar!mai au:

after avatar roku’s death, fire lord sozin commanded fire sages to check every newborn child in the entire fire nation. if a child was a firebender they took them away from their parents and held them in captivity until their 16th birthday. if a child was a non-bender, they returned them to their parents. 

all fire lords through 100 years were continuing sozin’s rules, trying to reveal and capture the new avatar. guards broke into houses and took away children cruelly; pleading cries and screams from terrified parents sounded everywhere. scared people prayed to agni to send them non-bender children (that was sligtly borrowed from the story about moses and pharaoh, i just listened to music from “the prince of egypt” recently).

mai was born weak and premature, fire sages said that she had no spark, and michi with ukano were relieved. besides, to that day everyone already thought that the circle of avatars is gone forever.

mai discovered that she could firebend at the age of six, the scared little girl ‘who shouldn’t make any problems’ kept her secret tightly and didn’t say anything about her bending even to her parents.

she met princess azula and ty lee at the age of seven, that year she also met prince zuko.

she secretly was watching zuko’s and azula’s training. mai had been running to the outside of the caldera and, hiding between high rocks, she tried to repeat their firebending moves.

sometimes little mai had seen in her dreams the tall white-beard man, but she didn’t understand what it all meant.

first time mai entered the avatar state at age of twelve after zuko’s agni kai. zuko was everything for mai – her friend and her beloved. she cried silently in her bedroom unable to unsee how fire lord burns his own son’s face, and that happened.

sages in all four nations saw the light in their temples and announced that the avatar had finally returned.

the next two years angry miscalculated fire lord ozai ordered to test and even torture every firebender they hold in captivity. meanwhile, mai’s family went to omashu.

avatar roku appeared in mai’s dream almost every night, reminding that it is her duty to stop the fire lord and bring balance to the world. terrified mai replied to him that she never asked for that. she had been wearing her mask of nonchalance and cold daily, although everything inside her squirms from the fear.

she returned to the fire nation at the age of fifteen, and was met by ‘dishonored’ zuko who’s only desire was to capture the avatar and restore his honor.

mai tiredly confessed to him that she’s the avatar.

zuko didn’t believe her at first, even scowled because she’s ‘mocking’ him. mai created the fire and zuko was terrified. he couldn’t believe in it.

he begged her to surrender to his father and mai, angered by his ‘betrayal’, turned into the avatar state again, pushing him away by her uncontrolled airbending.

all next day mai was planning her escape, afraid that zuko would betray her this time for real.

he intercepted her right before her leaving and whispered that he wanted to help her to restore balance and bring peace. his father was doing horrible things, now zuko understood. mai only nodded, and then, for hers and zuko’s surprise, she hugged him tightly.

after long preparations they succeeded to release the last dragon, chained in the undergrounds of the royal palace (that is the reference to the show “merlin”).

zuko and mai flew away on druk from the fire nation. furious ozai sent azula to catch them.

after long weeks of helpless searching and hiding from azula, mai and zuko found ty lee. ty lee joined them happily.

after visiting every ruined town and devastated village, after seeing wounded, broken, helpless people, desperation and guilt were growing in mai more with every day. she couldn’t bend, she couldn’t help them. she was a failure, not the avatar.

zuko and ty lee had seen it, and tried to help her, but mai locked from them and pretended that she was fine.

they found iroh in ba sing se. he helped them to hide (somehow, they managed to hide druk too) and tried to teach them firebending, but neither mai, nor zuko had fire inside them.

mai and zuko flew to the sun warriors ruins to learn the true firebending from masters.

exited mai kissed zuko that day, he kissed her in return. no need to mention how embarrassed they were after that spontaneous kiss. of course, they felt mutual attraction, but they couldn’t start a relationship in the middle of the war.

they flew to the southern air temple to find an airbender teacher for mai. there were only a few ancient monks – genocide survivors, and a twelve-year-old boy.

the bald twelve-year-boy - sifu aang - agreed to teach mai airbending, while sifu - hotman  - zuko was continuing with their firebending training.

people from the northern water tribe refused to help them because they didn’t believe in mai’s good intentions.

frustrated mai started to see in her visions two girls.

siblings katara and sokka escaped from the northern water tribe. despite their hate for the fire nation, they agreed to teach mai because the avatar was their last hope.

they were travelling across the earth kingdom, helping people and fighting with the fire nation soldiers (led by azula) until they found toph.

mai was slightly embarrassed to be educated by a bunch of kids, but she had no choice.

when mai felt insecurity and fear, knowing that the entire world depends on her, she locked from her friends. only zuko could reach her and comfort her, only in his warm embrace she felt safe and could be “just mai”.

before the sozin’s comet mai kissed zuko desperately, thinking that was their last time.

first, she was fighting for zuko, and only then for the world’s peace. she hated ozai more than anyone and i do not think she preferred mercy in the end (sorry not sorry).

a few years after the war’s end, young fire lord zuko asked for her hand. mai refused at first, saying that she couldn’t be the avatar and the fire lady at the same time.

stubborn zuko never stopped convincing her how blessed and successful their union could be, until she agreed. after all, zuko always had her heart.

 (mai would definitely ‘beat’ koh spirit hah)

honestly, i think i failed it, didn’t i? i’m really sorry.

but anyway thank you so much for the ask! avatar mai is such an interesting trope, who knows, maybe i’ll write some more about it one day (and include more maiko interaction).

[eskewcity]

Tell us more about Industrial violence please!!

not sure what in particular that you would like hear about but my thesis (disregarding that it’s on hold for the next few months while I’m in Scotland) mainly focuses on how the spatial layout of the factory results in industrial incidents and general violence against the autonomy of the workers as individuals and instead considers them a part of the machine. as I am working in the period of the *us* industrial revolution, I am looking at issues of overcrowding and general safety hazards, often produced at the hands of upper management who cared more about capital over human safety. perhaps one of the most well-known cases in the United States, and one I plan to use in the paper the most, is the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire which resulted in the deaths of 146 workers, most being immigrants. before the fire, it was already well-known just weeks before that the outside fire escapes were unstable and that cramped conditions of the factory were not up to code but that the advice to fix these things were ignored. I use the word industrial violence, which is often attributed to unionization and strikes, because by intentionally ignoring instructions to create better conditions for their workers, they put them in the position to receive the most consequence of their indecision. Many industrial factories themselves were just converted buildings, not meant to house the amount of people that they did or some were built with cheap material to cut the cost of production. in a way, these buildings were an extension of a machine, without the flow of human safety or comfort put in mind. 

I say that I am in Eskew and Dishonored influenced this thesis topic in a way because both medias explore exploitation of vulnerable individuals under a capitalistic society. I think the first chapter of the dlc, The Knife of Dunwall, goes the furthest with this idea as you see the dirty, and unsafe working conditions of the whale factory. And yes, also because of the idea that buildings can be born bad. 

[5lazarus]

To the Victor the Spoils

In the Skyhold gardens, in Adamant's wake, Solas meets Loghain.

A character study of two trickster-kings, speaking a little too honestly.

As Loghain himself says, "The past is always with us. It’s in our bones and our blood and we wear it on our skin. You can think otherwise, but you’ll never get far without it." Read on Archive of Our Own here.

The Inquisitor’s hand aches, and Solas is responsible, so he rouses himself from the Fade and dresses quietly. His erstwhile roommates, Varric and Dorian, snore away soundly. They came back late last night and may still wake up drunk. If this were not the third night in the row they had done this, he would be more sympathetic and leave a tincture for their headache. Alas, they must learn soon, or he will simply make a lot of noise waking up. There are healthier ways to cope with bad battles and beloveds’ deaths by drinking, however Varric wants to honor Hawke. Adamant has left them all aching. He would still like to sleep.

Outside Blackwall is running the new recruits through their basic drills. He is yelling at them about honor—another Adaman casualty. The children look like badly-plucked chickens in their ill-worn armor, shambling in the gray morning light. Solas would tell them to stand up straight and widen their stances, but here he does not need to play the drill sergeant. He leave Blackwall to his work and retreats into the main keep.

Morning prayer has just released and Leliana is wistful, her hood down. She pauses by Varric’s table and looks unseeingly at the stack of books. Then she sees him, and her face grows as porcelain-clear as a doll’s.

“Good morning, Solas,” she says. “You’re up early.”

The easiest way to answer is to obfuscate, and the best way to obfuscate is simply to say the truth. Solas says, “I enjoy the quiet, before Skyhold’s residents slip back into their daily routines.”

Leliana chuckles, and the porcelain visage warms into flesh. “Surely the Fade reflects routine too? The Hero of Ferelden told me she found me at my prayers, when we were trapped by a Sloth demon.”

You people dream such dull lives, Solas thinks but does not say, but of course I took the dreams away. He says, “There is disruption to be found on both sides of the Veil.” She watches him as he walks towards the cloister. He resists the urge to strut. Apostates, particularly those claiming to be hermits, do not walk with pride in their power and accomplishments. Many of the mages he has observed scuttle rather than stride. Solas has never tried to draw attention to himself; he cannot help being six feet tall and occasionally a redhead. Still, he tempers his walk.

In the cloister Elan’Vemal is buzzing around the felandaris like an angry wasp. Solas ignores her and walks towards the royal elfroot, pulling out his knife.

“Absolutely not,” she says.

Solas crouches down next to the bush. “I beg your pardon?” he says to the branches. The tips of its leaves are an electric violent. He can grind the stalks into a salve that will soothe the spasms in the Inquisitor’s hand and temporarily numb the spread of the Anchor. The leaves he will keep for himself.

“Inquisitor’s only,” Elan’Vemal says. “Unless you have a requisition form.” She looms over him, arms crossed. She’s a nasty little creature. The Inquisitor had not been pleased at her barefaced attempt at manipulation. Solas touches his own cheek, sans vallaslin, and does not even allow the thought to fully form.

He says, “I am making a salve for the Inquisitor.”

“A likely story.” Elan’Vemal is unimpressed.

Irritated, Solas says, “The stalk of this plant, ground into a salve with arbor blessing harvested wild and the stamen of the amrita vein, releases a numbing agent useful for treating Fade-inflicted wounds.” This is accurate enough, for her purposes. “We will be marching on Adamant in two weeks, and best be prepared.” He takes his knife and cuts only two branches from the stalk, when initially he had hoped to take three. Elan’Vemal watches him work. He is careful not to wound the plant. Grudgingly she remains silent as Solas ties the branches into a small bundle.

As he pushes himself to his feet, brushing the dirt from his knees, she says, “And the leaves? What will you use that for?”

Solas says, “Getting high, of course. What else?”

Shocked, Elan’Vemal laughs. He smiles slightly and makes his escape, dodging Mother Giselle with a polite “good morning.” The salve will not take much time to prepare, but the day is barely long for all he wants to do. There is the basic sketch for his fresco of Adamant. He already has a sense of what the colors need to be, and so he need to requisition more cinnabar for the corrupted lyrium holding the City enchained. There are calculations to be run, as well, regarding the latest of his Veil accelerometers. They have reactivated enough for him to use the lodestone at Skyhold as a base and predict where the Veil is weakest. The Inquisitor ought to plan her next foray where the Veil needs the most attention; but first, he must soothe her hand, and let her know she is cared for. He cares for her. She knows that; but after Adamant, the reminder will help.

A man is staring at him, not unkindly, so Solas turns with a practiced mild expression.

“May I help you?” he asks. It has not been easy to fall back into the habits he developed as Mythal’s thrall, but he has never been one for ease.

Loghain says, “You fought valiantly at Adamant.”

The almost-king of Ferelden: even now he cannot help but trip into exalted circles. Solas takes him in quickly before responding. He has heard the Inquisitor complain about Loghain’s betrayal of the Night-Elves, the resistance force both the Dalish and the urban elves of Ferelden launched against the Orlesian occupation. Solas separates the personal dislike from the political necessity. Of course the Teryn could not keep the elves of Ferelden armed; he could not risked an armed and organized minority clamoring for land just after they had waged and won one foreign war. Factionalism is so easy to fall into; Solas knows this from experience. That does not excuse it, but one does what must be done. He has done similar and worse. He would have left Cailan to die at Ostagar, and the Wardens too—but he would not have been so obvious about it.

Loghain himself looks like a tired but brawny old man, much like himself nowadays. Blue rings his eyes, but he is clean-shaved and his armor is polished. If the darkspawn in his blood keeps him up at night, he does not let it taint his day. He still survives.

Why does he notice him? Why did he notice him on the battlefield? Solas is too old for flattery. What does he want from him?

Solas says, “Thank you. You as well.” Inveterate loser, he thinks. He does not know if he is insulting him or Loghain: both, this is your human kin, the Fade will press him into your archetype.

Loghain says, “I’ve fought with apostates before, when we faced down the Archdemon—Dalish and human too. But I’d never seen any mage move that quickly, or so competently bark orders at frozen soldier in the field. Have you served before? Ferelden, Tevinter, or Orlais?”

Solas, as practiced, recites, “I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade, in ancient ruins and battlefields, where I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten.” He smiles thinly. “One learns from their mistakes.” Yours and mine, he thinks and cannot say: I would have done what you did at Ostagar, but I would have made sure I was not blamed. So quickly one’s allies misunderstand the good one attempts to have wrought; so quickly it spirals out of one’s own control.

Loghain stares at him. “You dream on battlefields? And can see what had happened there?”

“I can watch spirits copy the strongest emotions felt there,” Solas corrects. “There is truth but she wears many faces.” Obfuscation via weak poeticism works so very well, though it marks him as more polished than most elves. “In the same blood-drenched patch of dirty a spirit acts and reenacts a soldier throwing himself to the ground in anguish as he sees his king overpowered. And then, in the same blink, another plays the role of the relieved foot soldier, glad to be spared a fatal charge in a battle of fools.” Perhaps bringing up Ostagar is not the most tactful, but he struggles to know the average quickling’s reference-point. His knowledge of history is vast, and time has slowed to a crawl. He does not know what else to reference.

Loghain presses his thin lips into an even thinner line. “Ostagar,” he says. “And before I’ve had my breakfast. Did you go there deliberately, or just…fall asleep?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Solas says simply. It is not an untruth. He had found Flemeth’s cottage first. The dreams came easy. “Battles that change the tide of history mark the Fade as much they do the waking world. It is difficult to dream anything else, north of the Korcari Wilds.”

Loghain stares into his eyes. Solas, of course, peers back. The man’s eyes are a clear, cold blue, more brilliant for the bruises under them. The former regent of Ferelden says levelly, “When I dream, all I remember is a fool’s death and a hard choice. And I’d make the same again.”

“As you should,” Solas says. “There is no time for regret. You have lived your life according to the demands of your honor: for your countrymen, and now, your fellow Wardens. If you regretted that choice—if you sought to deny it, to fruitlessly work against the tide of the history you have made, that would be dishonorable. But you are an honorable man, are you not?” He realizes he is perhaps speaking more passionately than he ought. This is not Blackwall, an easy mirror to his own sins. He must remember what he is in the world: an elf, an apostate, a dirty outsider—no matter that he keeps himself cleaner than Cassandra. Repressively, he says, “Forgive me. Adamant stirs up old memories in us all. I am marked by what I witnessed as well.”

Loghain says, “You know war. Of course, most of your people do. The Warden has told me what the elves face in Orlais and Tevinter. It’s not much better in Ferelden.” Solas stirs, irritated, wanting to deny—but he is an elf, he is stuck in these circumstances, and he does know war intimately. He could not help but speak first. He cannot snap back. Loghain may be held in dishonor; that does not mean an elf can talk back. “Your friends have spent the past two nights in the tavern, drinking, and when that lugubrious warden isn’t weeping into his ale, he’s drilling the recruits to exhaustion. At least that will make them sleep at night. But that won’t do away with the dreams.” He smiles thinly. “I find your description of the Fade comforting. It means no one can lie about the past. Whatever it is. It’s always with us. It’s in our bones and our blood and sinks into our dreams. We wear it on our skin, and even the heavens are scarred with it. However history writes us.”

“To the victor the spoils,” Solas says.

Loghain burbles a laugh. It’s a pleasant sound, unexpected and a little hoarse. “Ha! And it’s my daughter who won. And right now—the Inquisition. The Wardens. Us. It’s easy to die for your cause. I could have claimed my redemption, if I need one, at Adamant. But it’s much harder to live for it, bearing the weight of the dead.”

Solas, surprised, says, “Yes.” He thinks, this is a lonely man, opening his deepest thoughts to a stranger, but aren’t I the same? Haven’t I been doing the same, with him, with Blackwall, with the Iron Bull and Varric and Cassandra and them all? He did not need the death of Wisdom as an excuse. He has found comradeship enough where he goes. He clears his throat, suddenly overcome. He thinks it through: I am upset, why? What has disturbed me? That this man carries his sins on his skin, and rejects the need for redemption. History has painted him the villain; I, also. Dread Wolf take you: what will they say about Loghain?

Loghain says, “It’s early in the day for this talk. I must be keeping you from your work.” The moment has passed; now they are awkward with each other, and not two soldiers who are harrowing a war. The man’s drawing into himself, embarrassed at the truth he told. Disappointed, Solas draws up to his full height and remembers: don’t hold yourself too tall.

He says, “Quite,” and holds up the pouch of royal elfroot. “Duty calls.” The Inquisitor’s hand is hurting and needs a salve. The quartermaster needs to order him cinnabar. Then there is the composition of the fresco to calculate and then sketch with charcoal, and more calculations, and sidestepping Leliana and Vivienne as to how he made those calculations. He saw it in the Fade. When he saw it, the Fade was everything, and there was no bleary waking. He leaves the courtyard and the almost-king, remembering and forgetting his words.

[edenmemes]

game of thrones (S1) rp starters

❝ i’ve never seen a thing like this, not ever in my life. ❞ ❝ do the dead frighten you? ❞ ❝ all these years and i still feel like an outsider when i come here. ❞ ❝ whatever it did to them it can do it to us. they even killed the children. ❞ ❝ relax your bow arm. ❞ ❝ oh, wait. i just realised...i don’t care. ❞ ❝ to stand at a crossroads where turning left means loyalty to a friend, turning right, loyalty to the realm. ❞ ❝ my crimes and sins are beyond counting. ❞ ❝ does loyalty mean nothing to you? ❞ ❝ i fear i may have behaved monstrously these past few weeks. ❞ ❝ some doors close forever... others open in the most unexpected places. ❞ ❝ sometimes i worry you’re too smart for your own good. ❞ ❝ the occassional kindness will spare you all sorts of trouble down the road. ❞ ❝ i don’t know. i don’t remember. everything happened so fast. i didn’t see. ❞ ❝ everything’s better with some wine in the belly. ❞ ❝ i’m not particularly good at violence, but i’m good at convincing others to do violence for me. ❞      ❝ gold wins wars. not soldiers. ❞ ❝ a mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone. ❞ ❝ there’s a war coming. i don’t know when, i don’t know who we’ll be fighting, but it’s coming. ❞ ❝ you will dishonor yourself forever if you do this. ❞ ❝ you know I had half my guard out searching for you? ❞ ❝ you're just a soldier, aren't you? you take your orders and you carry on. ❞ ❝ oh my sweet summer child, what do you know about fear? ❞ ❝ everyone who isn’t us is an enemy. ❞ ❝ would you be so good as to untie me? ❞ ❝ the next time you raise a hand to me will be the last time you have hands. ❞ ❝ come stand by the fire. it’s warmer. ❞ ❝ what do you pray for? ❞ ❝ i’ve made many mistakes in my life, but that wasn’t one of them. ❞ ❝ you can't change him. you can't help him. he'll do what he wants, which is all he's ever done. you'll try your best to pick up the pieces. ❞ ❝ the common people pray for rain, health and a summer that never ends. they don't care what games the high lords play. ❞ ❝ you’re a warrior like your father. ❞ ❝ i'm used to men who could chew that boy up and pick their teeth with his bones. ❞ ❝ i need you to become the person you were always meant to be. not next year. not tomorrow. now. ❞ ❝ there’s things that sleep at day and hunt at night. ❞ ❝ you’re in pain. ❞ ❝ when you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. ❞ ❝ go as far away as you can, with as many men as you can. ❞ ❝ is that what you tell yourself at night? that you’re a servant of justice? ❞ ❝ very handsome armor. not a scratch on it. ❞ ❝ do i frighten you? ❞ ❝ rhe lion doesn’t concern himself with the opinions of sheep. ❞ ❝ are you going to say something clever? go on, say something clever. ❞ ❝ there is only one thing we say to death - ‘not today’. ❞ ❝ have you lost your mind? what if you missed? ❞ ❝ it’s a gift. i had it made for you. ❞ ❝ distrusting me was the wisest thing you’ve done. ❞ ❝ how do you feel? you still don’t remember anything? ❞ ❝ you’re a smart person. you don’t believe that nonsense. ❞ ❝ you’re too hard on yourself. always have been. ❞ ❝ have you ever seen a dragon? ❞ ❝ you’re all alone in the deep dark woods. ❞ ❝ my family is rich. we have gold, lots of gold. i’m prepared to give you lots of gold. ❞ ❝ i felt something for you once, you know? ❞ ❝ there is a spell. some would say death is cleaner. ❞ ❝ it's a neat little trick you do, you move your lips and your father's voice comes out. ❞ ❝ i’m glad i could do something to make you happy. ❞ ❝ i could work at fighting all day, every day, and still never be as good as you. ❞ ❝ all i ever hear is how not tough i am. how i squirm at the sight of blood. ❞ ❝ i thought you were a better person. ❞ ❝ do you think it’s honor that’s keeping the peace? it’s fear! fear and blood. ❞ ❝ i pray for home too. ❞ ❝ never forget what you are. the rest of the world will not. wear it like armor. then it can never be used against you. ❞ ❝ when they write the history of my reign, they will say it began today. ❞ ❝ in my dreams, i kill him every night. ❞ ❝ we were meant to rule together. ❞ ❝ why haven’t i seen you? where have you been? ❞ ❝ the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. ❞ ❝ the law is law. ❞ ❝ we never had the chance to be young. ❞ ❝ i’m going to miss you. ❞ ❝ we were at war. none of us knew if we were going back home again. ❞ ❝ your absence has already been noted. ❞ ❝ you need to drink...and eat. ❞ ❝ i hope to repay your kindness someday. ❞ ❝ no one to tell me ‘no’ but you. only you. ❞ ❝ it stinks. it stinks like death. ❞ ❝ if i die, weep for me. ❞ ❝ someone with great ambition and no morals...i wouldn’t bet against you. ❞ ❝ there are no men like me. only me. ❞ ❝ you look lovely tonight. ❞ ❝ all good swords have names, you know. ❞ ❝ it’s not going to get any easier, you know? you’ll have to defend yourself. ❞ ❝ it’s a strange thing, the first time you cut a man. ❞ ❝ it’s hard for them to bow without heads. ❞ ❝ i swear to you that those who harm you will die screaming. ❞ ❝ i bet you’ve never killed anyone. ❞ ❝ death is so final whereas life...life is full of possibilities. ❞ ❝ there are times you make me wonder whose side you’re on. ❞ ❝ i’ll make sure you don’t look so fucking grim all the time. ❞ ❝ you’re a loyal friend. you hear me? a loyal friend. the last one i’ve got. ❞ ❝ did you have to bury her in a place like this? she should be on a hill somewhere with the sun and the clouds above her. ❞ ❝ don’t leave me alone with these people. ❞ ❝ oh, i do love a violent woman. ❞ ❝ it’s not your screams i want. only your life. ❞ ❝ i’ll kill them all. every one of them. i’ll kill them all. ❞ ❝ don’t talk about my mother or father ever, or i’ll carve your eyes from your head. ❞ ❝ every hurt is a lesson and every lesson makes you better. ❞ ❝ i’m a constant disappointment to my father and i’ve learned to deal with it. ❞ ❝ you have a quick temper and a slow mind. ❞ ❝ you broke my nose, bastard! ❞ ❝ i think you should wear your armor tonight. ❞ ❝ it makes me hurt to see you bleed. ❞ ❝ my tongue lied. my eyes shouted the truth. ❞ ❝ all men are made of water, do you know this? if you pierce them, the water leaks out and they die. ❞ ❝ i’m not going to tell you to stay or go. you must make that choice yourself. ❞ ❝ i grew up with soldiers. i learned how to die a long time ago. ❞ ❝ i don’t know what you want. i’ve given up trying to guess. ❞ ❝ you dare give commands to me? to me? ❞ ❝ who was your first kill, not counting old men? ❞ ❝ i’m looking at you. you’ve got an interesting face. a very distinctive face. ❞ ❝ you do have a choice. and you’ve made it. ❞ ❝ moon of my life, are you hurt? ❞ ❝ if the day ever comes where you’re tempted to sell me out, remember this: whatever their price, i’ll beat it. ❞ ❝ your sweet words have moved me. ❞ ❝ i did warn you not to trust me. ❞ ❝ when you look at me do you see a hero? ❞ ❝ take me to your crypt. i want to pay my respects. ❞      ❝ you always look at your feet before you lie. ❞ ❝ it’s your gods with all the rules. ❞ ❝ could you sing me a song? i’d like to hear a song. ❞ ❝ you worry too much. it’s starting to show. ❞ ❝ i take orders from your father, not you. ❞ ❝ you at a feast - it’s like a bear in a trap. ❞ ❝ if you can get word to my family, tell them i’m no coward. ❞ ❝ you understand why i did it? do you understand why i had to kill him? ❞

[dessoleill]

an honor that will get you killed

Draco Malfoy x Reader 

Person A falls asleep in Person B’s lap and Person B has a conversation with someone else while stroking Person A’s hair as if they were a sleeping cat.

Draco felt a knot in his stomach as he glanced around the train station. Loud, full of color and life, parting children waving goodbye to proud parents from inside the Hogwarts Express, warm hello’s exchanged between friends who hadn’t seen each other all summer and a part of him, a part he wasn’t willing to accept was bigger than just a pinch, was yearning for time to stop. So he could cling to the little childhood he had left. 

Reality, however, was much darker. 

And it had been like that for some time now. Ever since Potter and his friends had managed to get his father arrested after their fight in the Department of Mysteries, the Malfoy name had downgraded from one of the best magical lineages to something close to war criminals. And with the Dark Lord using Malfoy Manor as headquarters, Draco’s summer had been plagued with constant anxiety that evolved to panic attacks almost daily because what if, next morning, his mother woke up hung by her toes in the living room as punishment for his father’s mishandling of things.

And so he took a deep breath and made his way through the crowd to find his own friends. He had become quite good at ignoring the disdainful looks people would throw in his direction quite well over the summer, but for whatever reason it turned harder to bear when the ugly looks were coming from people he had known for years. As if all of Hogwarts had suddenly turned into an army of Harry Potters and each and every pair of eyes was a dagger pointed at his heart. 

And then he saw y/n. Next to Pansy and Blaise and Theo, the four slytherins were looking around the station waiting to see a pale blonde head of hair, and Draco almost smiled as y/n’s eyes landed on his. She did smile, all teeth and gums, and Draco sped up the pace to be able to feel her in his arms. 

“Draco!” y/n squealed and threw herself at the slender boy. He breathed her in and pulled her body closer to his. This, he noticed, was the first time in weeks he felt someone touch him and the warmth he felt coming from her body moved something inside him. He had missed being touched. 

“Y/n” he muttered into her hair and let himself savour the few seconds of intimacy before hearing chuckles coming from his friends. She curled her fingers with his and dragged him close to the other three slytherins who were smirking at their public affection. “Blaise, Theo, Pansy.” He nodded at them, hoping the blood that had rushed at his pale cheeks wasn’t noticeable to his friends. “Had a good summer?” 

The summer small talk was enough to accompany the five of them into their train compartments. Pansy spoke of a summer spent in her parent’s summer house in Italy and Blaise cursed at his mother’s new husband: “A complete twat.” He said and frowned at the memory of the new man. “Said he hopes we’ll be a happy family,” he mocked. 

“Maybe you will?” suggested Theo making Blaise chuckle loudly. 

“Mother’s only hoping he’ll get me an internship inside the Ministry before throwing him away.” 

Both boys continued bickering next to Pansy who stared at Theo adoringly. Meanwhile Draco was trying not to make it too obvious that he was enjoying Y/n’s fingers tracing patterns on his palms. 

“How was your summer, love?” he asked softly in her ear. She turned to look at him and Draco felt the coldness inside his heart start to melt as she tangled her legs with his and started to speak.

He took her in, her eyes and the color of her skin, the shape of her mouth and how it curved upwards when she met his gaze hoping this would be ingrained inside his memory forever. Y/n spoke of a summer far warmer than the one he had lived, full of sun and laughter and funny anecdotes that had made Draco laugh for the first time in weeks. And as the train drove into the late afternoon and the skies turned lavender, y/n curled her body next to Draco’s and started to drift away. 

Her head fell into his lap in a matter of minutes and Draco smiled fondly as he started to stroke her hair softly, eyeing his friends to keep their bickering quiet with the promise that if she were to be disturbed he’d wingardium leviosa their asses into the river below. And as her breathing slowed down, so did the world to Draco. He looked outside the window and saw the landscaped so familiar he had memorized after years of tracing the same route, tall hills of green and dark pine forests, little cottages sprinkled here and there and for a split moment Draco finally felt at home.

And then he heard Blaise clear his throat. 

He had been too lost inside his head to notice Theo and Pansy were gone, Blaise now sitting right in front of him. Draco liked Blaise, not because he was a particularly warm friend, but because he was always honest with him, and after years of Crabbe and Goyle kissing his ass, the harsh truth that always left Blaise’s mouth was refreshing.

“What?” he asked bluntly, keeping his tone low so as to not wake the sleeping girl in his lap.

“My step-father” Draco saw the disgust in Blaise face as he said so “mentioned 

something the other day. Something that, well, honestly scared the shit out of me.”

Draco didn’t answer, just stared at the boy questioning. “He said that the Dark Lord had been… uhm… rather generous with your family.” Draco’s stare hardened. “And that the only reason you all were forgiven was because someone in your family took The Mark.” 

His stomach dropped but managed to keep his composure. He looked down at y/n and found her sound asleep, the nerves coiling at his guts not because Blaise mentioned it but because he didn’t want y/n to have anything to do with that. 

“And?” 

“Draco, do you have it?” Blaise had read Draco’s fear as well and kept his voice low. Low enough for only the two boys to hear. Draco didn’t answer, didn’t move his head or made any gesture to indicate he had, but Blaise understood and all the color drained from his face. 

Draco continued caressing y/n softly and smiled at her face, unbothered, completely oblivious to the hellstorm that was about to hit. He looked up at Blaise and found him staring at her too. 

“It is an honor…” he started but got interrupted. 

“An honor that will get you killed,” spat Blaise. “Does she know?” Draco looked at him, alarmed at the idea. He would never drag her into this. “She needs to know.” 

“She doesn’t…” 

“Draco, she is not a little baby. And that” he looked down at his forearm “is a secret too big for you to carry on your own.”  

“I’ve been carrying it for weeks now, Blaise. Not only carrying this but living with him breathing down my neck. With my mother’s late night sobs and my aunt’s wretched personality under my roof, all to save my family, not just from dishonor but from death. For weeks now I’ve eaten away my sanity but hoping that I would get to see her again, have time with her before all hell breaks loose, so don’t take that away from me.” 

Both boys got silent and Draco knew he understood his feelings. He felt her cuddle closer to him and felt the knot in his stomach, the one that had been living with him for months now, grow bigger. Blaise was right, and both boys knew that sooner or later a secret this big would come out. Draco just needed time, time and a lot of luck to manage what needed to be done. 

Luck to stay alive long enough to enjoy more time next to y/n before the warmth in her eyes turned to ice once she knew of the secret he bore tattooed on his arm. Once her stare turned to disgust and she, like all the others, looked at him with daggers pointed at his heart

[mmmleckerlecker]

Heart Pangs - ‘To Live and Give’ (Part 23/70)

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Table of Contents - First part - Previous part - Next part

Summary: In the fallout of their mission, Benji deals with his grief while also seeking justice and rescue for his sister.

Contents: grief; graphic character death; vore - very vague references to implied fatal

Wordcount: 3,001

* * * * * * * * * *

One week goes by. And then two weeks. Nobody contacts Benji and he barely leaves the house.

He spends most of his time sitting at the table, sitting on the couch, laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He can barely eat. He can barely sleep. Every few hours he gets up and walks around the house, looking at Camille’s things. He’s too afraid to touch any of them. It feels like a dishonor. Sometimes he’s even afraid to move things. It had been Camille who had set those clean plates out to dry just before they’d left. Benji shouldn’t move them now. Same with the towel in the bathroom, the forgotten bag of groceries on the counter, the clean clothes in the dryer. It all becomes some strange monument to Camille.

He thinks a lot about what he should have done. He should have been faster pulling her into the van. He should have made her go in first. He should not have let himself be distracted by the fallen pred authority. He should have been more efficient with lifting Stone. He should have tried harder to convince Camille not to join the mission. He should have tried harder to convince her not to be a part of Epomis at all. He should have been there for her more after the incident. He should have kept her from joining the Alliance. He should have told her about what happened with Felix. He should have, he should have, he should have....

Once or twice Brandon calls, sometimes it’s their parents calling. They want to know how Benji’s doing and if Camille’s okay. She hasn’t been answering her phone.

Benji can’t tell them the truth. He can’t. How is he supposed to? Where would he even begin?

So instead he fights the way his throat closes up and comes up with yet more excuses, more lies. Camille went on a spur of the moment retreat, he tells them. She’s cut off from outside communication for now, but she’ll be back soon.

He says this last line to himself as much as he says it to his family. Camille will be back soon. She has to be. Epomis is growing stronger every day. They’ll find a way to save her.

Brandon and their parents are miffed that Camille would leave without telling them, but they let it slide. Brandon and Sarah are expecting their baby any day now. Everyone has bigger problems to deal with.

Benji’s heart clenches at the thought of Camille never meeting her newborn niece or nephew.

No, no, he corrects himself. She will. She has to.

By the end of the second week, Benji’s growing impatient. Despite Oscar’s warning, he starts making calls. He calls every number connected to Epomis that he can remember, but every single one of them has been disconnected. Benji throws his phone away in frustration.

For the first time, Benji starts to doubt Epomis. Maybe the leak compromised more than just a single mission. Maybe all of Epomis is in danger. Maybe they’ve already been disbanded. In his mind’s eye, Benji sees pred authorities like the ones from that night storming the houses of every Epomis member, dragging them away to who knows where. Maybe there’s nothing left of Epomis anymore. Maybe Benji is next.

Nearly halfway through the third week, Benji’s phone rings with an unknown number. He picks it up so quickly he nearly smacks himself in the face.

“Hello?” The word comes out in some strange high-pitched whisper.

“We’ve found the leak.” Benji has never been so thankful to hear Oscar’s voice. “If you want to see justice for your sister, come to the following address tonight at 9pm.”

Benji scrambles with shaking hands to find a pen and paper. He writes the address Oscar gives him. Then, before Benji can get a word in edgewise, Oscar says, “See you tonight,” and the line goes dead.

Benji sits with the phone still at his ear. The call suddenly feels like a dream. He checks his call history. It’s there. Only a minute long, but the call definitely happened. Benji re-reads the address he’s written down just to reassure himself.

It’s only about ten in the morning. Eleven more hours feels like an eternity, but Benji has already waited this long. He can stand one more day.

The day goes by like every other day has since Camille was taken. Benji forces himself to eat, change his clothes, and brush his teeth. He sits alone thinking, but there’s something a little different about today than there had been yesterday. His thoughts drift away from what he should have done to what he can do. If he can just talk to McMullen, figure out what’s happened to Camille. If he can figure out a plan to get her back, to see her home safe and sound again.

Benji feels something in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a long while. It takes him some time to realize what it is. Hope.

Night falls and Benji drives to the address Oscar gave him. The building is on the edge of town. It looks to be some old schoolhouse or library, now abandoned. Benji has to drive some ways down the road to find an inconspicuous place to park. Once he hikes back to the building, he spends some time circling the outside, trying to figure out where to enter. He only notices a door around back when he spots what he thinks is a group of Epomis members heading inside.

Benji approaches the door and is startled to find a tall shadow standing before it. A flashlight blinks on, and he can see the shadow is a bouncer guarding the door. It’s the same one that guarded the entrance for the first Epomis meeting Benji ever attended. He recognizes Benji and nods him inside.

The room Benji steps into turns out to be an auditorium. When he looks back, he finds the door he just came through is an emergency exit. The room is already moderately filled. Other members are huddled in groups, discussing things in a low murmur. It’s the biggest meeting Benji’s been to since his first one. It almost feels like the first meeting too. Almost.

There is a certain reservation in the air. No one wants to speak too loudly or move too quickly. Before, all the glances Benji had received were suspicious or uncertain, now they just look pitying. But besides all that, there is one major difference between his first meeting and this one. Camille isn’t there.

Benji feels... lost without her. He’s not sure where he should go or who to talk to. He wanders aimlessly for several minutes, lurking off to the side or awkwardly pushing his way through the crowd. After this goes on for awhile, he feels someone catch his shoulder. Benji spins and finds himself face-to-face with Oscar.

“Why don’t you find a seat, Marotta?” he says.

It’s odd seeing Oscar in person. Benji has seen his face over and over again these past weeks but only in dreams, only in the nightmares where Camille is ripped from Benji again and again. Oscar doesn’t look as... shadowy and foreboding in real life as he does in Benji’s dreams.

Benji nods mutely and staggers to find an open seat. Oscar follows behind and chooses the seat right next to him. Benji wonders if Oscar feels responsible for him after what happened. He half contemplates telling Oscar he doesn’t need to be taken care of, that he’ll manage on his own. But he doesn’t. At least for now, it’s nice not to be completely alone.

Benji sits in silence. His eyes scan the room. Oscar might be good (if a little imposing) company, but it’s McMullen he really wants to talk to. It’s McMullen who will have the answers Benji seeks. But he’s nowhere to be seen in the room.

Benji turns his attention to the stage. It’s simple and the curtains are drawn. Oddly enough, he notices a layer of plastic covering the stage floor. He tries to see if there’s anyone waiting offstage in the wings, but it’s too dark to tell.

It’s another twenty minutes before anything happens. More people trickle in through the emergency exit and find seats. The auditorium fills, although it’s nowhere near a full house. The sounds of conversation are steady though not particularly loud.

But when McMullen finally steps onto the stage, everyone hushes at once.

McMullen’s mouth curls into a smile. “Greetings, friends,” he says. “It’s been too long since I’ve been able to see any of you. I know this lockdown was unexpected and unprecedented, but it was necessary. For safety purposes, most details have had to remain secret, but tonight I want to clear everything up.

“About two and a half weeks ago, a small group of our members were assigned a very important and very secret mission. The mission, however, was compromised about halfway through. Pred authorities were waiting at the scene and arrested three of our own when they were at their most exposed. Connor Hastings. Alissa Wells. And Camille Marotta.”

Benji’s stomach unexpectedly lurches to hear his sister’s name listed so casually.

“The preds’ presence at the scene was not coincidental,” McMullen continues. “It was a result of a leak within our midst. To prevent any further mishaps, we were forced to go on lockdown until the problem was isolated.

“After such a tragedy, I am happy to report the reason for today’s long overdue meeting is because we have finally found the leak. And now we can enact justice.”

McMullen sweeps his hands towards one side of the stage and two large prey men push their way out, clutching a prey woman between them. The woman’s hands are bound behind her back while a gag over her mouth keeps her quiet. She appears to be middle aged. Her eyes are shadowed and red, but there’s a steely rebelliousness in her expression as she looks out over the crowd.

“Lauren Berkley,” McMullen says once the woman is brought to stand next to him. “A trusted member of Epomis for two years now, turned traitor. After thorough interrogations, she admitted to us her treachery was born out of anger for targeting pred-sympathetic prey. She expressed to us in very colorful and creative language how we are the traitors for taking such actions. However, it was her actions that led to the arrests of three innocent members. It was her actions that betrayed preykind.”

McMullen nods to the two men holding Lauren Berkley. With a quick downward shove, they force the woman to her knees.

“All of you here took an oath,” McMullen says as he comes to stand behind the woman. He rests a steady hand on her shoulder. “Every one of you vowed to uphold Epomis’ secrets. You promised to remain loyal to preykind and reject the tyranny of predators. And of course, you vowed to live and give your lives for the cause. Miss Berkley here has done anything but remain loyal to preykind. She has given up Epomis’ secrets. She has betrayed us all.”

McMullen’s gaze sweeps across all gathered and Benji thinks for a moment the man’s eyes linger on him for just a breath longer.

“Lauren Berkley has not lived her life for the cause.” McMullens voice drops low and dangerous yet still somehow rings out clear as ever. “So she is left with only one part of her vow unbroken.” McMullen brings his free hand around the woman’s neck. “To give her life for the cause.”

Benji sees the glint of silver in McMullen’s free hand and suddenly he realizes what the plastic onstage is for. He turns his head away. He can’t see this. But just as soon as he does, he feels someone grab his chin and force him to look back.

“Watch,” Oscar mutters roughly in his ear.

So Benji watches.

McMullen swipes a knife across the woman’s throat. Blood flows like an unsightly scarlet scarf down her neck. The crowd lets out a collective gasp, whether from shock, fear, disgust, or all three, it is impossible to tell. Benji barely notices it. All he sees is the woman’s eyes flashing with rage and hatred followed by the quick fading of life all together.

Benji doesn’t move. He’s never watched someone die before. She hadn’t even been given any last words.

McMullen lets what’s left of her fall to the ground. Silence rings across the auditorium.

“You’re all dismissed,” he says then walks offstage.

Nobody moves for a solid minute then, as if on cue, everyone rises and heads for the door.

Benji stands but he doesn’t leave. He watches the place McMullen has just disappeared to. If he doesn’t make a move now, he may never get the chance to speak to the leader of Epomis. So he makes a decision.

“Hey, where are you going?” Oscar snaps as Benji dodges his way through the crowd, but he’s too fast for Oscar to stop.

Benji springs on stage. The two men who brought Lauren Berkley onstage are preoccupied wrapping her body in the plastic. He skirts by them and slips backstage.

McMullen is not far. He speaking with a well dressed woman Benji’s never seen before. The woman catches sight of Benji before McMullen does, and she gives an annoyed look. McMullen turns to see what the woman is looking at.

“Ah,” he says, his face softening. “Benji.”

“Can I talk to you?” Benji is surprised to find he is out of breath.

“Of course.” McMullen waves a dismissive hand at the woman. “We’ll finish this later.”

The woman’s forehead creases with frustration, but all she does is nod and leave.

McMullen looks as if he’s about to speak, but Benji cuts him off before he loses his nerve.

“What’s happened to Camille?”

McMullen’s face falls. “I’m not sure that’s something....”

“Please,” Benji begs. “Please, I need to know.”

McMullen lets out a long sigh. “Most likely, after she was taken by the authorities, she was kept in jail while she was processed. Once her connection with Epomis was confirmed, she would have been handed over directly to the Facility. There they would... interrogate her for information on us.” McMullen pauses, a frown overcoming his expression.

“Is that all?” Benji presses because he’s sure it isn’t.

“No,” McMullen goes on. “I’m not sure how long Camille’s interrogations might go on. She’s very strong, but even if she breaks, she doesn’t have enough information to be severely detrimental to Epomis. We’ve already taken the necessary precautions anyways.”

Benji can’t tell if McMullen genuinely believes it’s the secrecy of Epomis he’s concerned about or if the man is just stalling.

“But after that,” Benji says, “after they’re done interrogating her, what then?”

McMullen presses his lips together and gives Benji a look so stern it makes him wither. “After that, she’ll no longer be useful to the Facility so she’ll be sentenced to disposal. She’ll be consumed.”

Benji knew. He knew that would be the answer. But even so, hearing it said aloud shakes him more deeply than he’d anticipated.

“So how are we getting her back?”

McMullen blinks. “Getting her back?”

“Yes. How are we going to rescue her?”

McMullen grows very still. Then he places a careful hand on Benji’s shoulder. It’s the same hand he’d placed on Lauren Berkley’s shoulder just minutes ago .

“Son,” he says ever so gently, “we don’t have the resources or information to pull off a rescue from the Facility. And even if we did, we would likely lose more members in the process than we’d be gaining back. I’m sorry, but... your sister is gone. All we can do now is try to honor her memory by fighting even harder for what she believed in.”

Benji doesn’t move. His mouth his dry. His insides are hollow. McMullen had just referred to Camille in the past tense.

“She’s still alive,” he says, not realizing what he’s saying until the words are out of his mouth. “I’d... I’d know it if she wasn’t.”

McMullen’s look is dripping with pity. Benji hates it.

“For now,” he says. “Camille was always a fighter.” McMullen squeezes Benji’s shoulder, and Benji wishes to pull away but manages to resist the urge. “Why don’t you take another week or two off?” McMullen suggests. “A little more time to process what’s happened? Then, when you’re feeling up to it, we’ll start you off again small with phone calls and supply deliveries. How does that sound?”

Benji nods, but his mind is far, far away.

Epomis has failed him. His only hope at seeing Camille again has been crushed.

“Good,” McMullen says. “I look forward to seeing you then.”

Benji stumbles back into the auditorium. If Oscar is still around, he doesn’t see him. In fact, Benji barely takes note of anything at all as he walks back to his car, as he drives all the way back to Camille’s empty house.

The Facility. Camille’s in the Facility. She’s going to be consumed.

Benji’s head is swirling with so many thoughts, it’s hard to make sense of any of them, but there’s one that stands out clearly among the turmoil. He cannot allow Camille to be killed, no matter the cost.

In the late hours of the night, a plan takes root in the depths of Benji’s mind. It’s a ridiculous plan, Benji knows that right away. And it’s a risky plan. It’ll take courage Benji isn’t sure he has. But it’s a plan he knows Camille wouldn’t be afraid to enact. He’ll have to be fearless like her.

It’s the only plan that has even a sliver of hope at succeeding. But a sliver has to be enough. Hope is all he has left, and it’s everything he’ll cling to if it means getting his sister back alive.

Next part