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heartpascal · 10 months

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when the sun goes down

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: joel doesn’t talk about you, until he does

▹— a/n: this one might be kinda ,, weird?? idk if i like how ive written it!! its kinda different to my usual fics !!! + the ending is kinda funky idk

▹— warnings: fem!reader (she/her used), reader is dead , mention of reader getting infected , grief, loss, guilt, lots of angst, small mention of suicidal ideation, referenced murder, mother tess, father joel, uncle tommy, ellie asking inappropriate questions tbh, think that’s everything but let me know!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear (pedro)

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When Joel had been a stranger, Ellie would have never even had the thought to guess that you or Sarah had existed. The man seemed… too stoic, too unbothered, or perhaps, too bothered. She was never really sure what Joel was, back then.

But over the weeks, then the months, and then the years of knowing Joel Miller, it had become increasingly obvious that there was a distinctive daughter-shaped gap within him. It had left a cavernous space in the man, which Ellie had done her very best to fill, even if she would never have admitted it to anyone.

It was clear in the way Joel had tied up her hair when she was sick, in the way he knew exactly what she needed to hear, even when she didn’t know herself. It was obvious in the way he responded to her argumentative nature, her spitting words, his protective behaviour.

Ellie hadn’t even really thought about it, until the day she and Joel arrived at Jackson, until Maria revealed what the two names on that chalkboard meant. After that, it all started to make sense, and she had finally believed that she understood Joel Miller in some deeper way, in a way that actually mattered. She didn’t think about what she was doing back when she had argued with Joel, when she had spluttered out, “I’m not her, you know.”

Your name hadn’t even been mentioned, back then, and Ellie hadn’t known at the time that when she had said her, Joel didn’t know exactly who she was talking about.

Either way, he made it clear that Ellie shouldn’t be mentioning anybody Joel had lost. Certainly not you or Sarah, or even Tess.

After the whole… hospital fiasco, Ellie wasn’t sure she had ever understood Joel, after all. She’d been numb, to some extent, when she and Joel had finally made it back to Jackson, back to Tommy and Maria’s warm house, with their surprisingly peaceful baby. The first time she had visited their house, she hadn’t even noticed your name up on the chalkboard, a new addition, one without any dates below it, but written with as much care as the others.

It was the second, or the third time, maybe, that Ellie noticed the brand new name up on the chalkboard in Maria’s living room. She had been even more hesitant to talk about it than she had been to talk about Sarah and Kevin, so Ellie had figured that the loss was fresh. She hadn’t asked again, for a very long time.

Tommy, unsurprisingly, had been the one to tell her. A long day after a nightly patrol had the man exhausted, and he was two glasses of booze in when he had seen Ellie squinting up at the chalkboard as she was around for dinner.

“He ever tell you about her?” Tommy asked, fresh glass of booze gripped in his fist as he settled down on the sofa, looking up at the board with something numb in his eyes.

Ellie had said your name like a question, eyes scanning between the board and Tommy with furrowed brows. At Tommy’s nod, Ellie had shook her head, turning to Tommy like a child ready for story time before bed.

Tommy took another sip of his drink, sucking his teeth before he finally spoke. “He never told me what happened to her,” He said, eyes fixed on the board as if information might appear. “But I figure he must blame himself, whatever happened. She was fine when I left, but I’m guessing gone by the time you were around.” Tommy continued, looking to Ellie, who nodded. “Don’t know when exactly it happened. He’s real tight lip about it, even more so than he is about Tess, but I don’t blame him. She was his second chance.”

“Second chance?” Ellie repeated, eyebrows raised.

Tommy nodded in confirmation. “Found her not long after the Outbreak. She took to Joel straight away, poor kid. After Sarah, he was… different, but Joel, he looked after that girl like nobody else would’a.”

Some of the things Joel had done or said made a lot more sense to Ellie, in light of this information. You had been Joel’s second chance at protecting his daughter, his redemption, and he had failed. It was no surprise, in that case, that he had been as protective as he had. Or that he had tried to dump Ellie with Tommy, back when they first got to Jackson.

Joel believed he was a failure.

It was quite the realisation for Ellie.

She noticed more, after that. Like the way Joel would stop in the street when he saw people who must have held a certain resemblance to you or to Sarah. Or the way he would stay up late into the night, staring blankly at the darkening world around him as he sat on the porch. Ellie noticed just how much effort Joel put into looking after her, as if afraid that something could happen to her, or she could just disappear. She also noticed the way his eyes lingered on Tommy’s chalkboard, each time they visited.

Ellie thought that maybe, some day, Joel would wind up talking about you on his own. But days passed, and then weeks, and then they’d been staying in Jackson for close to two years, and nothing.

If it hadn’t had been for Joel sticking his nose into Ellie’s business, she probably would’ve never even revealed to him that she knew of your existence. Or at least, your connection to him. But Joel Miller was nothing if not stubborn, and when Ellie had been down for more than two days in a row, he stopped minding his business.

Joel was all comforting words in the face of a preventable loss on a patrol, and Ellie was sick of it.

“It ain’t your fault, kiddo. Nobody blames you for what happened, and you oughta talk about it to somebody.” Joel had said, voice warm and concerned like any father might be, and Ellie couldn’t help but snap after the day she’d had.

“It’s always one thing for you and then another for me, Joel!” She said, baring her teeth at the man, who only looked as confused as ever. “I’m sick of it. Stop telling me things that you know aren’t true, just because you feel guilty!”

His arms had been crossed defensively over his chest at her words, his eyebrows furrowing, the crease between them more prominent than ever. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, voice gruff and warning, as opposed to the previous tone he had been taking with her. He was practically daring her to go on with what she was insinuating.

“That you want to believe your kids dying wasn’t on you! And that’s great, Joel, but this was on me. It was my fault.” Ellie had spat out, arms wide out by her side, their stances opposing one another. She was accepting her guilt, acknowledging it, realising it was true, where Joel had only ever taken the blame, lugging the guilt along with him for years as if hoping it could disappear.

He had been sure, for a moment, that Ellie had taken to physical blows, but he realised in the silence which had followed her words that the pain was all him. She was right, which to Joel, was the real kicker. He had a knack for projecting onto people, for being defensive over guilt as if it reflected his own. As if, somehow, Ellie being guilty meant that Joel certainly was, too.

Maybe Ellie was right, but even if she was, Joel was in no mindset to admit it. How could he? He couldn’t even bring himself to talk about you, too scared that Ellie would see him for what he truly was; a failure. How would Ellie have responded to that? It was the exact reason he hadn’t told her the truth about the hospital, about what he had done, about the lengths he would go to. She might have seen him violent before, but never to that extent. Never against people she cared for.

If he told Ellie the truth, he would have to admit that he had failed a third child. Perhaps not quite in the same way as he had failed you and Sarah, but in some capacity, he would lose her, too.

Joel had been a selfish man for a very long time, by then. It was no surprise that he opted for the path that would allow him to keep the only child he had left. Who could blame him? Even Tommy, in some strange way, had understood his actions. Especially after his baby had been born, Tommy couldn’t blame Joel for doing what was necessary.

A parent’s love for their child was unrelenting. And Joel took that sentiment very seriously.

But Ellie couldn’t understand. She wouldn’t.

So, in that moment, he had levelled her with a look that put all parental glares to shame. “Go to your room.” Joel had instructed, voice flat, cold. Ellie, in her shock, had done as she was told, which was unusual.

This time, however, when Joel told Tommy of what had occurred, his brother hadn’t agreed with his actions.

When Tommy explained that Ellie didn’t know about you, or about Sarah, and certainly didn’t understand the relationship the two of you had had with Joel, he could see how she could’ve said something so… distasteful. After all, Joel had never told Ellie exactly what had happened to Sarah, let alone to you. Hell, he didn’t speak about you at all. He didn’t want Ellie to believe that he would fail her next.

But the talk was overdue, and the silence in the house had been suffocating Joel, and he noticed how uncomfortable Ellie had been, too. So he had no choice but to steel himself, to grip a mug of coffee, give up on slowing his heart rate.

When Ellie walked through the door, having been out with her friends all day, she stopped short at seeing Joel sat on the couch, looking more stressed than she had seen him in a long, long time. “Sit down.” Joel said, his words catching and tumbling out, as he gestured towards the armchair opposite the couch.

Surprisingly, she sat. “Is everything… okay?” She asked, hesitantly.

“I think it’s time I have a talk with you,” Joel admitted, his fingers squeezing the mug tightly. “You were right.”

“As always.” Ellie responded instantly, an instinctive response that generated a scoff of laughter from Joel, soothing his stressed brow the slightest amount. She cringed, but relaxed at his expression. “About what, exactly?”

“About it being one thing for me, and another for you. It’s not fair of me to ask you to talk about things, if I don’t talk right back to you.” Joel said, slowly, trying to sort through his thoughts before he fumbled another important father-daughter talk, as he had done many times before. “I’m goin’ to tell you about my girls.”

“Joel, you really don’t—”

He interrupted, “No, I do. And I want to.”

Ellie nodded after a moment, settling down in her chair, finally placing her backpack by her feet. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Joel repeated. He took a deep breath, squeezing the coffee mug once more. He said your name, the syllables almost unfamiliar for how long it had been since he had said it. “She, well, I—… She got Infected, ‘bout six years ago.”

Ellie sucked in a harsh breath, sure she knew what had happened after that. It was a story she knew, all too well. Joel scratched at the hair on his cheek, grinding his teeth together. Remembering it all, remembering you was… hard. But it was also refreshing. As if showing the parts of you he’d held to his chest for so long was a weight, lifted from his shoulders.

He didn’t want to talk about that part, about the time he failed you, about what he’d done for you, but other things? He could talk about those.

Joel remembered the years he had spent with you, watching you grow, spending weeks of his life searching for gifts for every assumed birthday. He remembered teaching you how to read, gifting you books, helping you learn how to survive. He remembered the bond you’d shared with Tess, the time the two of them would spend doing your hair for you, with whatever supplies they could manage.

Telling Ellie about you was probably the most vulnerable Joel had ever been with her. It was certainly the most open he had been. It felt like, for the first time in a very long time, he had his heart stitched onto his sleeve.

There was so many memories of you, so many he’d kept to himself for years because Tess had never been able to talk about you, because he couldn’t bring himself to, either. He worried about memories he had forgotten, about how much of your face had faded into obscurity, about how inaccurately he recalled your laugh, your voice.

He thought that, perhaps, his very worst fear would be that if he let go of these memories, if he let other people look upon them alongside him, he’d forget. Joel wasn’t sure he could be open and hold on tight enough. What was too much? How much could he say before he forgot it all? How much would he remember if he didn’t analyse them in his mind? If he let Ellie listen to the moments he held most dear?

Joel didn’t want to forget.

But if he didn’t tell anybody, then who would remember you, after Joel was gone?

There was Tommy, he’d considered, but he knew Tommy’s memories were corrupted, taken over by Firefly nostalgia. No, despite Joel’s being older, his memories of you were certain to be more reliable.

“Here,” Joel said, eventually, his throat feeling tight with the effort of holding back tears. He pulled out a folded up print, one he had gotten out just that afternoon. It was crumpled and degraded with age, but the image remained true. “This is her.”

Ellie took the photo from his hands, the image being of you. It was taken when you were a kid, back when he’d first found you, back when FEDRA had been doing photographs, before all of the printing supplies ran out. It wasn’t a happy picture by any means, merely an image of you, stood in front of a white background with a scared look on your face, dirt smeared across your nose, but it was you. And to Joel, that was enough.

He much preferred to think of you that way, rather than your last moments. It was the only thing that allowed him to let go of that last picture of you, the one that haunted his mind.

When Tess had died, the only thing that gave Joel some peace was the belief that she would have reunited with you. That you wouldn’t be alone, anymore. Often times, in the events after your… well, after he lost you, Joel had considered following you down that path. He had prayed to the God he had once believed in, he had cried out for any divine interference to stop what had happened from being true. But no matter how much he prayed, how much he cried, you were gone.

You had given him a purpose, after Sarah. Joel doesn’t think he would’ve made it this far, if it hadn’t been for you. And it feels so… wrong. He thinks, now, that Ellie had provided him with a purpose, after you.

“So, you raised her in the apocalypse?” Ellie asked, looking down at the photograph fondly, running a thumb along the yellowing picture.

“That I did.”

“Lucky kid.” Ellie said, not nastily.

“I dunno, kiddo, I’ve not always been the best…” Joel trailed off, unsure if he could actually refer to himself as your dad, after everything. After what he had done. Or, rather, what he hadn’t. “We did our best, me and Tess. Hell, even Tommy pitched in.” Joel decided on, after a moment.

He remembered the times Tommy would agree to look after you, to babysit, if such a thing existed in the apocalypse. Usually, it was when he and Tess were going outside of the QZ for supplies, occasionally for the Fireflies, which was why Tommy was allowed time away from his war against FEDRA.

One such time, Joel recalled, he and Tess had returned back to the ransacked apartment they had been assigned to find you and Tommy curled up on the decaying couch, which had only one cushion, asleep. A blanket had been wrapped around your shoulders, and Tommy had your newest book held in his lap.

In that moment, Joel had so wished that he could’ve taken a picture. He remembered a picture of almost the same scene, of Tommy and Sarah on the couch in his old house, in front of a still-playing TV. He regretted not taking the photo albums when they left, back then. Even now, he often felt a pang of regret over how much of Sarah’s memory was reliant on his own.

“Tess raised her with you?” Ellie questioned, almost surprised, but she could remember the way Tess had acted almost… maternal. Not to mention her optimism, her hope, when there was a possibility of a cure. She wondered if that was because of what had happened to you.

Joel nodded, going on to tell the tale of Tess teaching you how to shoot, when you became old enough to handle a gun, when it became apparent that you would need to handle one. He remembered how you had missed all but one shot by your second lot of ammo. He remembered how frustrated you had been, how Tess had told you to suck it up and try again, with that good old no-nonsense attitude.

Ellie could almost imagine Tess saying that, could almost picture how annoying that must’ve been for you as a kid. It was almost amusing to try and picture Joel and Tess raising a child in the apocalypse, especially given how the two had been when she had met them, herself. She tried to imagine that Tess being a mother, but came up empty.

“Did she, y’know, call you dad, or whatever?” Ellie asked Joel, after a moment of hesitation. She wasn’t sure if that was inappropriate to ask, but she was curious. She couldn’t imagine calling Joel ‘dad’ to his face, even though he was the only father she had ever known.

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“Dad!” You yelled, jumping up from the couch and away from Tommy, successfully waking him up in the process. You stumbled your way to the door as Joel swung it open, already dropping his bag to the floor. He was used to the greeting party, but you didn’t often shout him, in fact — did you ever? And since when did you call him ‘dad’? “You’re home! Did you get it?” You asked, jumping into his awaiting arms.

Joel squeezed you tightly, feeling a mixture of guilty and relieved that he was glad to be back, to come home to the child he had yet to fail. He thought about where you could have learnt that word, that name from, and could only come up with the new books Tommy had been helping you with while he and Tess had been away.

“‘Course I got it,” Joel responded, his voice gruff but full of warmth and humour. “Who d’you take me for?” He asked, grinning at your laughter and the way you squirmed from his hold to get to the backpack he’d dropped beside his feet.

“What’re we reading next, then?” Tommy asked, drawing Joel’s attention over towards the sofa, where his younger brother was smiling fondly. You hurried over, attention easily drawn away, and showed Tommy the book you’d taken from Joel’s bag, the one he’d managed to scrounge on his journey outside with Tess.

Joel was quickly drawn from his memories of the journey by you calling out to him once more. “Dad, are you coming to read with us, or not?” You asked, exasperated, and Joel grinned as he came over, his heart aching in his chest at the name, at the nostalgia of the activity.

“You bet.”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“She did.” Joel answered, after a moment of him being distracted, thinking of that very first time, thinking of the way he had fallen back into the title with such familiarity. He wondered if you would have been much like Sarah, had you been born before the apocalypse. Sometimes, he wondered that about Ellie. Often, he had to remind himself that you and Ellie weren’t his biological kids, and if it wasn’t for the apocalypse, he wouldn’t have had you.

He doesn’t like the way his chest aches at the thought of that. It might just be the only reason he’s grateful for the apocalypse that had ruined the world.

“She would’a liked you, y’know.” Joel said, almost absentmindedly, as if that comment didn’t make Ellie’s chest warm with appreciation, with pride. As if it didn’t make her wish that she could’ve met you, could’ve proved that comment correct.

“I think I would’ve liked her, too.” Ellie said, quietly, watching the way Joel reminisced, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the photo she still held. He smiled after a moment, and she was sure he was imagining what his life would’ve been like, had all of his kids met.

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blu3cl0v3rs · 8 months

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Summary: Garmadon and Co. move into the monastery.

Warnings: Wu is in denial

Prompt: New Beginnings

Extra: Set in pre-canon. "And Co." are Ray, Maya, Libber, and Lily. Wu is in denial of being a father, but Ray and Garmadon will not shut up about it. I am sleepy so this probably sounds a bit dead.

"So this is what you've been doing in my absence?" Garmadon asked after he knocked on a giant red door of the Monastery.

He had walked in on Wu as he guided Morro through proper katana form.

The brother's locked eyes.

"Morro, you've done a great job today, but I think we're done for now. Do you mind cleaning up everything?" the blonde asked kindly.

Morro simply bowed and dragged the training dummy and bokken to their respective storage places, disappearing into the monastery afterwards.

Garmadon approached his younger brother. The two stood face to face, tension thickening the air as silence flowed between the two.

"Is this the boy you've been writing about?" the elder brother asked.

"Yes, that was Morro." The younger brother confirmed. "Where are the other four?"

"They are… coming." The brunette turned to the stairs, where spiky brown hair popped up from a distance. "It has been a long journey."

"I see. Good thing Morro and I prepared rooms for you all ahead of time." Wu stepped forwards to be next to the taller man.

The two stood in weighted silence.

The eldest sighed, "I missed you, Brother."

"As did I." The younger quickly brushed off any dirt accumulated from training.

Ray clambered up the stairs, huffing with each step he took. Maya, Libber, and Lily followed up behind. All of them at different levels of exhaustion, ranging from Libber, who was bent over with her hands on her knees gasping for air as fat beads of sweat dripped down her round pale cheeks and thin neck, to Lily, who was slightly winded as she dabbed sweat off her brow and jogged up and down the same three steps, giving encouraging words to the other women with her.

"Why," Ray asked through labored breaths, "do you live on top of a mountain?"

The blonde man smiled, "There's a nice view."

"Eughhh… I need… a bath," Libber groaned as she collapsed against the wall of the monastery, scooching over to a shaded area.

"Same, I forgot how tall this mountain was," Maya agreed.

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad," Lily received two deadpan stares.

"Maybe for you because you love rock climbing," Libber grumbled before slouching inside to bathe. Maya and Lily followed suit.

Ray straightened up eventually. "So, where's your kid, Wu?"

"What?"

"Your kid. Y'know, agh what was the name, Mollo? No, Mono? Ah, Morro!"

"Wha- hah! Morro is not my kid."

"You sure, Brother?" Garmadon piped up. "You seem quite fond of him."

"I can be fond of a child without adopting him! Besides, he's only my student."

"Sure, because you definitely wrote about discovering his favorite food like he's your student," Ray rolled his amber eyes. "Just accept it, you're a father now."

"Which means I'm an uncle as well," Garmadon quietly realized.

"Again, Morro is just my student. Besides, there's no way he sees me as a fa-"

"Sensei."

The three men turned to see their topic of discussion waiting patiently by a door into the building.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but I completed my task," the boy said after he came over.

"Good job! Let's go inside now, okay?" the younger Dragoni crouched to be closer to Morro's eye level.

The boy with a green streak nodded happily and softly made his way back into the temple.

Ray and Garmadon shared a look as Wu rose to his full height and followed, waving the two over.

"Not a father, he says," Ray mumbled before heading inside with Garmadon.

Bokken - wooden sword used to train in kenjutsu, or japanese swordsmanship

#ninjago #morro #ninjago morro #morro ninjago #morro master of wind #morrotober #morrotober 2023 #morro wu #lego ninjago #garmadon ninjago #ninjago master wu #ray ninjago #ninjago libber #lily ninjago #maya ninjago #i'm sorry this took so long #again #i'm playing catch up rn

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daintylotusflower · 5 months

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The Hunt: Epilogue ONE

The Strategist - Asher Carson

We had to move rather quickly, as the place was getting crowded by now. Not just because we arrived, but also because of the saved girls who really needed to get away from this horror place.

Volkov and Kyle were quick, professionals, as expected, when hurrying everyone into secure cars and hurrying everyone to drive off. Naturally none of the fathers and sons wanted to leave their daughters and girlfriends alone, so it was a cozy family trip driving outside of the city.

Everyone needed some fresh air to breathe, though a few amongst them didn’t have lungs to live anymore.

I looked at Killian through the mirror while driving.  King’s daughter was seated on his lap, head buried in his neck. She was asleep, or fainted from all the exhaustion.

Poor girl.

The last days were sure a nightmare for her but the happenings from the last hours must’ve truly knocked her out.

„LANDON DON’T“

It was Levi King’s voice that echoed from the other room when we just stepped into the playfield of the devil. Aiden was quick to interrupt his bickering with Kyle to rush to his cousin and nephew. 

His nephew, a tall brunette copy of Levi King, was standing in the middle of the room and shot a man that was captured and beaten, right between his eyes.

He was breathing like an angry bull, his body tensed and his eyes… hollow.

Aiden rushed to his side with his cousin and they quickly took away the gun.

 „Landon! This won’t —“

„Nothing, will bring her back“ I felt the hair on my neck standing up.. he sounded like..

He sounded like fucking Arianna. Empty, soulless and ..gone

I heard about the King men and their lack of emotions and ..heart.. Aiden has been a long-life friend and I witnessed him and his son with my own eyes but this.. this was entirely different.

Aiden was a ruthless son-of-a-bitch but he still had humanity in him. He was maybe -okay most definitely - not sharing the same moral compass as the rest of the world, but he had some.

But Landon King ? He looked like the epitome of anarchy and doom at this very moment.

„What’s going on here?“, Kyle entered the room and looked at the dead man like it was another piece of trash in the hallway.

Volkov entered too, hands in his pocket. He looked around rather calculative and somewhat annoyed by the fact that he had to leave his daughter’s side to come here.

Kyle stepped closer.

„Landon? King? What’s going on?“

Something was off, when Aiden pulled Landon away by his neck and Levi held his arms back when he tried to free himself from his uncle.

They both rushed out of the room but not before Landon was yelling at them to show the prove.

Prove?

Prove for what?

Glyndon stirred in her sleep, her fingers gripping into Killian’s chest. She was having a nightmare. Killian’s jaw tensed and he pulled her even closer, whispering things into her ear I couldn’t decipher. It seemed to work.

„How long, Dad?“, my son sounded tired.

„An hour left“

„We can’t be going too far away from these bastards. It will only give them the opportunity to flee!“

„I don’t think they want to run, son“

„They will.“ Our eyes met through the mirror for a split second and it was like I saw myself in his eyes. Like that time when Arianna died and I blamed the world for it and stupidly my own love. But especially like that time when I found out the truth and Reina was taken away from me. And I saw her beaten up in her own blood. The rage over what had happened and how I almost lost the love of my entire fucking being, was so fucking overwhelming, I would’ve burned the world for her. Including myself.

„They will“, I agreed and something flashed in Killian’s usually emotionless eyes.

Surprise?

I nodded towards the rode.

 „We will take a break-“

„I don’t need a break“, he cut me off, stroking Glyndon’s hair back while he continued gazing out of the window.

„No. You don’t“ I wasn’t being sarcastic. I knew that he couldn’t rest until justice was served.

„But Glyndon might when she wakes up. She needs water and something to eat until she gets the nutrition’s from the doctor“

Glyndon had been captive for what seemed like days without food or water. Killian did his best by nurturing her as much as he could when they rescued her. Naturally a doctor was supposed to see her and give her a nutrition boost but because of recent event’s we all needed to pack as quick as possible and change locations.

Some men stayed there, including Aiden, Kyle and Eli to go over everything.

They wanted to be sure that they had seen and found every clue possible, before joining us.

I halted at a gas station and got out, opening the door on Killian’s side.

„What are you doing?“, he looked at me with furrowed eyebrows.

„I’ll pump gas and check with the others. You go and wash your damn face, grab some snacks and water for Glyndon and come back“

„I won’t leave her“, he said with a final tone.

„I’m here“

„Kill..“ I sighed and crouched down. I slowly lifted a finger and stroked a hair out Glyndon’s face, my son tensed visibly.

„Stop that“, he threatened. I allowed myself a little proud smile at that, before cupping Killian’s head and forcing him to look at me.

„You are my son Killian. And no matter what happened between us in the past and how far we are in healing.. this.. all of that doesn’t fucking matter in this situation. Because I want you to be assured that you can always, fucking always trust me“

I leaned our foreheads together. „Trust me, son. Glyndon has become my daughter the moment you brought her home and I saw you -“

„Normal“, he looked at me calmly. He didn’t sound accusatory, merely like he was stating a fact.

„Being yourself!“, I corrected him. „I know I wasn’t the best father you deserved. But let me prove to you, that no one will love you like I do son. Trust me, okay? I’d protect my daughter-in-law with my life if necessary! “

Killian’s nostrils flared and I let him go so he could look down at Glyndon’s face for a second.

He didn’t answer nor reciprocate in any form. I didn’t expect him to because I knew he wasn’t doing emotions. But him putting Glyndon softly into a comfortable sleeping position and getting out of the car was already a big prove of trust.

I straightened so he could get out of the car. I locked the doors after closing them. He nodded once before he disappeared to grab the snacks.

While pumping the gas I dialed Aiden’s number.

„Are you done?“

„Almost.“ I heared painful groaning in the background

„Did you guys arrive at the location?“

„Almost“ I gave him back his answer. „Will you be there on time?“

„Don’t worry, honey, I know you can’t do shit without me“

I smirked.

„Fuck you, King“

„I pass“ He replied and hung up.

Being able to fight with Aiden gave me still a form of sanity in this whole damn mess. I texted with the others, apparently some of them already had arrived.

Killian came back a few minutes later, looking a bit fresher than before. Some water droplets were dripping down from his hair strands and gave him a much more awake look. He was carrying some snacks. Maybe a bit too many for the remaining hour. He looked into the car, checking if Glyndon was still asleep.

„Feeling better?“

„No“, he answered calmly. „Not yet“

I nodded, knowing what he meant. I paid for the gas and sat into the driver’s seat and surprisingly, Killian joined me on the passenger side after covering Glyndon with his jacket and making sure that she rested well in the back.

I allowed myself a small smile.

„What did he mean?“, I asked into the 20min silence. From the corner of my eye I saw Killian’s muscles flexing.

„Who“

„Her brother. What did he mean by -“

„Not now, Dad“

I furrowed my eyebrows and passed a large truck before answering.

„I don’t think there are any better moments, son“ 

He sighed and I watched his Adams apple bob in silent. Was.. Killian struggling to tell me something? No, that can’t be. My son would never struggle with the truth. He didn’t have that empathy level.

„But there are worse…“, he mumbled.

Normally I would argue with him, fight with him and blame him for how he was not responding and hiding important information from me. But just a moment ago I asked him to trust me and ..I needed to trust him too.

I needed to trust in his ability to know what was right now and what was .. just not necessary at this moment.

Levi King calls my son a few minutes after, and he assures him that Glyndon is save. They arrived and were waiting for us. I could see that King was not fond of leaving his little baby girl only after finding her again but he had his hands full with Landon and Nikolai, who was giving updates on his other son.

By all the information I got, he was poisoned.

And though I could see that the elder King wasn’t the greatest fan of my son, I knew that he trusted him in protecting his daughter.

“Tell me about Ilya”, I try this time. We still had 30min to go and there was nothing wrong with getting all the information’s I might’ve missed.

“He betrayed us, what else is there to tell?”

Ilya disappeared with Knight and his daughter, Jeremy’s girlfriend Cecily.

When they were rescuing Annika, Ilya used the opportunity when shit went down to free the men that had been captured and kidnap Knight and Cecily when realizing that the latter was remembering things she shouldn’t.

“What motive does he have?”

“You mean besides Maya?”

I tilt my head down, contemplating. “Why didn’t you tell Jeremy earlier.. maybe he would’ve been more careful-“

“I doubt that”

Killian looked back to Glyndon when she made a soft noise in her dreams. He reached back to stroke her hair back, not for her, but for himself.

Because he needed her touch just like a drug.

I waited for him to continue.

“Otherwise, it would be my fault, or rather my stupidity for not understanding it earlier but it’s not that”

Killian’s finger started drumming against the window.

“It’s about the fact that Ilya wasn’t so sure about what to do himself.”

I lifted one eyebrow.

“How do you know?”

“Cecily was about to be kidnapped again. Shortly after she was rescued. Ilya checked the room. Now knowing what we know, it’s clear that he was in onto the plan. He knew the room was rigged and yet lied to Jeremy it being safe.”

He stopped drumming and for a moment it seemed like he was lost in his thoughts.

“We dissected the room and quickly found all the cameras and hidden traps. But I also saw something, that I didn’t understand at the beginning.”

I looked over to him intrigued.

“The window. Apparently, it was shut when the men came.”

“So?”

“Are we not using our brain Carson?”

I smirked. “Watch it, punk!”

I could deal with big mouth and provoking Killian. He was much better than soulless Kill.

He chuckled humorlessly.

“So, we established that Ilya chose and prepared the room for Jeremy. Cecily woke up from the men entering the room because the window wasn’t open like it was supposed to be. They had to crash in, which woke up Cecily.”

I raised my eyebrows. It made sense.

“So, you think Ilya did it on purpose, so Jeremy had a chance to rescue her?”

Killian shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s a theory”

“Why would you think that? Maybe the men were really just too dumb? Maybe they didn’t expect Jeremy to be close by or for Cecily to wake up.”

“Possible”

My son took a deep breath and rubbed his chest, right over his heart. The physical exhaustion was slowly eating him up.

“But I don’t think they planned everything so perfectly, only to fail at such simple tasks.”

“And why would Ilya kidnap Cecily and her father now, if he wanted them to have a chance?”

“Because his motive is Maya, Dad.” He turned his head to look at me and for the first time it seemed like an ounce of empathy was swimming in his cold blue eyes.

“Ilya didn’t betray Jeremy, just to betray him. He did it because of Maya.”

“Are you defending him?”

“Would you?”

Killian looked at me when I stopped at a red light.

“Defend him?”

“No. Betray your –”

“No”, I interrupted him as flashbacks filled my mind.

“I would never not communicate and hide my problems ever again”

I felt my son’s eyes on me and though we had never told him about his aunt, he knew that a certain family member gave us the worst time of our lives.

She almost made me lose my one true love but she was only so strong because we allowed her to be. We never talked, never shared our pain with each other which is why we almost lost each other for good.

“Ilya should’ve talked to Jeremy.”

My son turned his head back and a silent filled the car until I slowly saw the airport trajectory.

“What is this?”, Kilian asked as we saw our friends and family standing in front of Volkov’s private Jet.

“Would you?”

“What?”

I parked next to the scattered cars and looked over to him.

“Would you betray your own to safe Glyndon?”

We looked at each other for a long moment, his icy blue eyes vibrating with intensity as he thought hard about his answer.

He looked over to Glyndon who was softly sighing in her sleep when he answered.

“Yes”

Though I didn’t suspect a different answer, I couldn’t help the sting in my chest.

“Because she is my empathy. Without her, I don’t own a different perspective.”

He nodded over to her.

“So, with her being save here, I can rationalize what you are saying. It’s understandable and it’s…” He furrowed his eyebrows as if he was tasting his words “it’s probably the right thing to do. The moral-ethnical and socially acceptable way of seeing this.”

“But.. it’s not how I function Dad. Not how I will ever work. Glyndon is my only sanity so if she disappears-“

“You’d lure your cousin into a trap?”, I interrupted. I knew I had no right to feel attacked. I knew he was being brutally honest with me which I appreciated. Fuck, I appreciated it so much, even though the truth about my son would always hurt me.

But I was proud of how reflective he was and most of all, how he was trying for us all.

Even if he said it was only for Glyndon, it wasn’t true.

It was maybe because of Glyndon, which is why he learned perspective and patience, but he had always put on a mask in order to not hurt us, hurt his mother.

Even if he acted like he didn’t care and yes, yes because of how his brain worked he might not.

But he cared differently.

He adjusted to us to not make us feel sad even if he wasn’t aware that that was a form of empathy.

Killian’s eyes darkened.

“Never. Mia… “ He broke eye contact as he looked out to the others, Adrian Volkov looked at me expectantly.

“I am not defending what Levitsky did” He spat his name like a curse.

“That motherfucker deserves a slow death for what he did to Mia”

He looked then at me again, a shadow darkened his eyes now. Making him look deathly. Ruthless.

“But if someone asked me to exchange Landon for Glyndon. I gladly would”

I allowed a low chuckle knowing how much my son hated his girlfriend’s brother.

The corner of his mouth twitched for a split second before he nodded towards the others.

“We are sending the girls off, right?”

I nodded.

His jaw tensed and he looked back at Glyndon again. Desperation and reluctance were written in his face.

“She will be safe”, I assured him.

“She will be safe”, he said, emphasizing the last words when he met my eyes.

He wasn’t assuring himself or me.

It was a dark promise.. almost like a threat.

Astor’s boy and Aiden’s younger boy decided to stay with the girls.

Well, not quite freely.

Nash’s youngest daughter was clearly a mess and her boyfriend would’ve rather chewed his own leg then to let go of her in any circumstances.

Her father clearly approved, though I knew that Cole would never admit that out loud. But he needed to focus on his still lost daughter and I could tell that he was relieved that she didn’t need to stand alone through whatever she’s been through.

Aiden’s youngest son, Creighton, wasn’t as easy to convince.

But he wasn’t happy with neither staying nor leaving with Annika.

He knew that she needed to head back home, that she needed to leave this hell hole and he wanted to stay with her and protect her but at the same time the need to kill was also there. Present.

It was a back and forth until Adrian grabbed him by his shoulder and looked down on him though they were almost the same height and told him to choose himself just like Annika did too before.

I didn’t know what they meant by that.

Without using the words for it, Adrian basically told him, that he wanted him to stay with his daughter.

Creighton looked back before they entered.

“I want the one who took her”

And then he disappeared into the plane. It was clear as day what he meant by that.

He wouldn’t be here to find those men and punish them for what they did but he wanted to have at least one to torture which would be the one who took Annika in the first place.

Adrian nodded.

I didn’t look when Killian hugged Glyndon to his chest and I didn’t listen when he whispered her that he loved her and that he would come back as soon as the fuckers who did that to her would be bleeding.

Levi approached his daughter shortly after and helped her inside.

His son was nowhere to be seen.

The girls would be sent back to one of Adrian’s hidden houses and would have the best security to protect them.

We watched the plane start from afar when Jeremy’s phone went off. He had been quite the whole time, watching in silence when I knew that his soul was shattering.

“WHAT?”

We all looked at him tensed when he yelled into the phone. His eyes met Levi’s who stepped closer.

In return he held his phone out and put it on speakerphone so everyone could hear my nephew talk.

“Like I said. Levitsky is here. Knight and Cecily are here too.”

We looked at each other in disbelief. Why the hell is Ilya back?

“Is Knight alright?”, Astor asked, stepping closer.

“He lost a lot of blood and is unconscious at the moment.” He waited a beat. “Cecily is with him and my men are with her”

This information was clearly for Jeremy who was now basically killing his phone with his death grip and laser eyes.

Nikolai growled like he was trying to control his beast.

“He also brought the antidote”

“Are you sure it’s the correct one?” Levi asked now taking Jeremy’s phone. The latter’s muscles ticked but he didn’t stop him.

“It’s the only one we have Mr. King... we need to hurry”

“Nikolai! What if it’s a trick-?”

“It’s not”, Killian cut in, looking at the phone with an empty look.

“How do you know, Carson?”

I looked back at my son.

“Brandon was already dying. What difference would a few hours make?”

Levi bit down on his teeth at the image of his son slowly losing his life.

“Don’t let him out of your eyes Niko!”, Jeremy barked in before they could continue to argue about Ilya’s intentions.

There was a moment of silence on the other line. Nikolai didn’t sound like himself. I knew his boyfriend was fighting for his life at this moment but knowing that he received the antidote should actually make him sound. -maybe not happy.. but more alive?

So why did he still sound like he was trying to make Brandon breathe again.

“He’ll stay. He.. is waiting for you”

Jeremy hissed, his jaw ticking with unleashed anger when he grabbed his phone back.

“Send me the fucking location of the hospital Nikolai and so help me God when I see him because he wished he’d run away”

“You’d be surprised”, Nikolai echoed with an almost hollow voice and hung up.

What was that supposed to mean?

Jeremy didn’t wait to find it out as he rushed to his car, his father following. I knew that Adrian also had a vendetta against Ilya for betraying his son like that.

“How are we sure this is not a trap?”, Astor asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I don’t think so”, Killian threw in.

“What? Do you think he suddenly had a change of heart?”, Levi spat. His tone towards my son was pure poison and I was about to punch his fucking face for that.

“Not a change but maybe a loss..”

Again, his eyes swam into a further nothing when I could practically hear his brain working.

“What are you saying, Kill?”, I asked.

“I said I would betray my people for Glyndon, Dad. Now empathize with me. When would I come back?”

He looked at me – no, past me. Like he was chasing a long-gone shadow.

I furrowed my eyebrows thinking about his question.

What did he mean?

When would Killian come back?

Especially like Ilya. Why would he all of a sudden try to help? Seemingly?

If he wanted to safe Maya then-

My eyes widened when realization slapped me.

I felt like someone poured cold water over my head, freezing me to my bones.

“Mr King. Please show me the picture of Mia”

Mia? Wait – why Mia?

Levi looked at me for a second before he looked back at my son.

“Why?”

He just reached out his hand, waiting for him to give him the phone.

After three heartbeats Levi reluctantly handed him his photo after opening something and –

Fuck- FUCK

Was this my heart breaking?

My lungs that were shuttering?

The corners of my eyes blackened for a moment when I blinked, my eyes desperately trying to focus on the picture in front of me but my body was revolting to even witness what I was seeing.

No, no, no. Not my little princess. Not my beautiful, innocent niece!

Not M-

“Maya. This is Maya”

Killian’s voice came out like the reapers.

Dark and lifeless.

Gone.

“The message said-“

“It’s a lie. Only to pitch Landon against us. This is Maya.. ..I ..recognize my cousin”

A heavy and dark blanket laid upon us as we all stared down to the picture. No, not everyone. Astor, Nash and King were avoiding it. So they knew before.

And.. I looked at Killian.

He knew too. He didn’t see the picture, obviously a mix up happened between the twins, but he knew that his cousin died. That’s why he wouldn’t tell me.

“That’s why Ilya came back”, I whispered.

That’s the only reason Killian would come back too. If it was too late. If he had lost Glyndon. Only then he’d help for a last time.

Maybe him not because of guilt but because of revenge. To stop them from plotting and pull them all to hell with him.

“Maya is..”

“What about my daughter?”

The voice belonged to my brother-in-law. Kyle Hunter who stepped out of Aiden’s car together with him and his son Eli.

He had stayed with them behind to clean any mess they might’ve left with their last snooping and got rid of unnecessary attention.

We were so indulged that we didn’t even hear them approaching, yet alone getting out of the car.

Levi snatched the phone back from Killian and everyone kind of stepped away from the circle we all built.

“We got Ilya”

Killian announced to his uncle. “We are heading to the hospital; Brandon is being treated.”

I refused to look into Kyle’s eyes as I followed my son back to the car, but a strong arm stopped me.

“Ash”

The familiarity broke me for a second and my eyes met with Aiden’s who was looking at us from a few feet away with a calculative look.

“What did you guys talk about? What happened to my daughter?”

I felt like needles were piercing my skin and a heavy stone was setting in my throat.

“She-“

Sudden gun shots interrupted me when we found ourselves in the middle of an attack.

Kyle pulled my head down and we ran to the next car, jumping in.

I checked if my son got in safely but gladly there was nobody left on the open field as we raced out of danger. How the fuck did they find us so quickly?

I dialed Aiden’s number, and he picked up after the first ring.

“Did everyone make it?”

“Yeah” I heard him driving over a man.

“Everyone’s safe.” He sounded too calm.

“Put it on loudspeaker”, Kyle grunted next to me.

“How many can you see King?”

“A few. Your little trap worked.”

I furrowed my eyebrows.

“You brought them here?”

“We were on a hunt remember? Time to catch the prey.”

I looked back and saw Aiden behind us, both him and his son looking almost bored as multiple cars were chasing them.

“By putting everyone in danger?”

“We didn’t. We knew they would come, obviously” Aiden stated through the phone. “Why chase them when we can let them follow us.”

“Work smarter not harder” I smirked, and I knew Aiden was doing the same. It was his motto since I could remember.

“How did you lure them in?”

I asked, not quite understanding yet why they were suddenly so open with their attacks.

“Simple”, Aiden said with and obvious undertone. “Find out that Adam is not the only one behind this shit and kidnap their accomplice who most definitely would spill his whereabouts with a tiny bit of torture”

“What a pussy”, Kyle grunted, obviously speaking about a session they both had when we left.

How long were they gone exactly?

But wait? Accomplice? As in-

“It’s not Adam Herran behind this?”

“Oh he is”

“But he apparently wasn’t alone”, Kyle commented while he made a sharp left turn, the car chase getting more difficult as we snaked through the traffic.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Who?”

“An old high school friend”

I waited.

“Christopher Vans”, he spoke darkly.

#rinakent #daintylotusflower #fanfiction #legendofgods

32 notes · View notes

oh-surprise-its-me · 9 months

Note

Roy/Jamie prompt: Phoebe's mum ends up in the hospital with a mild ailment and Roy runs himself ragged trying to take care of everything. when he starts to crack, he tries to hide away and breakdown only two sets of arms, one large, the other small, come around him and hold him tight. Jamie and Phoebe have a bias against their Roy falling apart with no one to pick him back up. Roy realizes Jamie is his family and that he wants him with him in every step of his life from now til the end. Jamie feels the same.

Jamie had been sleeping at Roy’s house for the past two days. Roy looked awful on Thursday. He couldn’t let him keep doing that to himself.

So far Jamie has let Phoebe paint all of his nails. The hot pink glitter toes look killer. The black on his hands nails is something he’s definitely going to do again.

Phoe has been trying to convince Jamie to help her dye her hair. He’s been refusing. That was hours ago. She’s been asleep for a while when Jamie decides to find Roy.

He ends up in front of Roy’s bedroom. He knocks. There’s a noise then Roy opens the door. “Yeah?”

Jamie blinks. Shit Roy has been crying. Jamie grabs him. Doesn’t even think before he does. He pulls Roy into his arms. Roy drops like dead weight. Jamie slides to the ground with him. “It’s okay. I know. It sucks. You’re doing so good though.” There’s a sob.

Suddenly Phoebe is there. She throws herself onto Roy’s back. Holds on so tight. “You okay uncle Roy?” Roy pulls back out of Jamie’s hug. He pulls Phoebe in between them. “Yeah hon. Just got tired.”

Jamie knows what tired means. Overwhelmed. Stressed. Exhausted.

“Alright you two let’s get in that giant bed of Roy’s yeah?” Phoebe hops up. Roy is staring at Jamie like he’s just realized something.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Jamie slams back on the ground fro where he was trying to help Roy stand. They land on the ground. Phoebe sticks her head over the side of the bed. “Obviously you love him. He’s here with us.”

They can only stare at her. “Mummy says you two deserve each other.”

She flops back into the pillows.

“Love you too. You know.”

Roy thinks maybe he finally lost it. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Money!”

Jamie brushes the tears off of Roy’s face. “Baby why would I fuck with you. I’ve loved you for years. Just took a while for you to catch up.”

Roy shakes his head. “We’ll talk more in the morning. Come on.”

Jamie stares at the bed. “You want me to sleep there too?” Roy pulls Jamie up. He shoves him on the right side. Phoebe in the middle of them. She flops over onto Roy’s chest.

Jamie reaches out and takes Roy’s hand. They’ll talk in the morning.

It’ll be a good morning.

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #jamie x roy #royjamie #phoebe kent #roy kent x jamie tartt #thanks for the ask !!#i hope you like it!!

47 notes · View notes

lucky-clover-gazette · 7 days

Text

captive prince book 1 highlights & annotations

chapter 13 & final notes

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

It was true; it was somehow not even a surprise, more like a truth that had grown for some time on the edge of his awareness, now brought into sharp relief.

some damen brain insight! he’s not stupid or oblivious. he just ends up distracted, often, due to the more pressing things in front of him and/or subconscious avoidance.

‘You can’t go to Delfeur,’ Damen said. ‘It’s a death trap.’

YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY damen doesn’t want laurent dead!!!! 🎉

‘Is your reputation so far in the dirt that you think the Council will choose your uncle for the throne anyway, unless you prove yourself?’ ‘You are right on the edge of what I will allow from you,’ said Laurent.

but he does allow SOMETHING, which is new

‘Take me with you to Delfeur,’ said Damen. ‘No.’ ‘Akielos is my country. Do you think I want her overrun by your uncle’s troops? I will do anything in my power to prevent war. Take me with you. You will need someone you can trust.’ Speaking those last words, he almost winced, immediately regretting them. Laurent had asked him for trust last night, and he had thrown the words back in his face. He would receive the same treatment. Laurent just gave him a blankly curious look. ‘Why would I need that?’

context: laurent is delusional about his capability to overcome near-insurmountable odds alone. this frustrates and concerns damen, and he isn’t able to let it go, even though he hates laurent. his values and honor come first. laurent is both confused and mildly amused by damen’s concern, because he doesn’t expect anyone—especially not damen—to actually care about his well-being.

Damen stared at him, suddenly aware that if he asked, ‘Do you think you can juggle attempts on your life, military command, and your uncle’s tricks and traps by yourself?’ the answer was going to be: Yes.

i love laurent. i love that his stubborn determination is very much a virtue, but also something that occasionally makes him act like a total idiot. and damen sees this, and understands this, for better and/or for worse.

‘He asked me to bed you, then report back to him.’ Damen was forthright. ‘Not in those words.’ ‘And your answer?’ That, unreasonably, annoyed him. ‘If I’d bedded you, you’d know it.’ There was a dangerous, narrow-eyed pause. Eventually: ‘Yes. Your style of grabbing your partner and kicking their legs open does stand out in the memory.’

the fact that laurent allowed this kind of banter to happen at all is kind of a big deal. he was definitely close to smacking damen about it, but went for a half-hearted insult instead. for laurent, that’s basically a white flag. and it’s even more meaningful, since the exchange was related to sex, which has proven to be a vulnerable topic.

‘My dear brute,’ said Laurent, ‘I want you to rot here.’

context: laurent is exhausted, stressed, and delusional about his immediate future. damen wants him to survive (for now), to see things realistically, and feel the urgency of his circumstances. i don’t think laurent cares if damen rots—he just wants him to stop saying true and helpful things.

also, this is just kind of a hot thing to say. something about the conflicting affection and contempt. i don’t know.

‘Are you that sure of yourself?’ Damen called after him. ‘I think if you could beat your uncle on your own, you would have done it already.’ Laurent stopped in the doorway. Damen saw the cupped yellow of his head, the straight line of his back and shoulders. But Laurent didn’t turn back to face him; the hesitation only lasted for a moment before he continued out the door.

he’s right! laurent knows he’s right! he’s just too proud and delusional to admit it!

probably because to laurent, admitting weakness only results in vulnerability and pain. he wouldn’t believe that anyone would actually want to offer him help without an ulterior motive. so his guard stays up, and he does what he needs to do alone.

Laurent was leaving tomorrow. Laurent, infuriating, intolerable Laurent, was pursuing the worst possible course, and there was nothing Damen could do to stop him.

“i hope she fries / i’m free if that bitch dies / i’d better help her out” (buffy the vampire slayer, once more with feeling)

It was easier to blame the death of a boy on mischance than that of a young man about to ascend to the throne. Damen could see no reason why boy-Laurent should have escaped that fate. Perhaps familial loyalty had held the Regent back . . . until Laurent had blossomed into poisonous maturity, sly-natured and unfit to rule.

context: the regent kept laurent alive as a child and teenager so he could [redacted] >:(

Laurent could inspire homicidal tendencies simply by breathing. Kastor, he thought, had no idea what lay across the border. Kastor had embraced an alliance with Vere. He was vulnerable, ill-equipped to fight a war, the bonds within his own country showing cracks to which a foreign power had only to apply pressure.

the dramatic irony here is insaaaaaaaane. damen your cognitive dissonance is showing

Did Laurent really believe he could do this alone? Laurent would need every weapon at his disposal in order to navigate this course alive. Yet Damen had not been able to persuade him of that. He was aware, not for the first time, of a fundamental inability to communicate with Laurent. It was not only that he was navigating a foreign language. It was as though Laurent was an entirely other species of animal.

romance is two strong-willed and competent people communicating despite the odds, becoming stronger and more competent together than they would be apart. also doing improv comedy to survive the horrors

He touched the starburst pattern at his shoulder. He was dressed in Laurent’s colours, and bearing his insignia. That was a strange feeling.

kinda hot. like the collar and cuffs, but they actually earned it.

submission vs. respect theme, etc.

He was to serve and obey, as any man.

but NOT, notably, as a slave.

‘Sleeping in his tent?’ ‘Where else?’ He passed a hand over his face. Laurent had agreed to this?

i love how damen’s follow-up question isn’t necessarily, “do i agree with this?” but “how the fuck did LAURENT agree to this?”

After a long moment, Damen said, ‘Whatever else you think, I don’t share his bed.’ It was not a new insinuation. Damen wasn’t sure why it rankled so much now.

probably because there is something resembling mutual respect developing between damen and laurent, so the implication that their interactions are entirely sexual is offensive. submission vs. respect again!

‘If I’d sent them after you,’ said Laurent, ‘I would have told them you went out the only way you knew, through the courtyard off the northern training arena. Did you?’ ‘Yes,’ said Damen.

hot.

The pre-dawn light bleached Laurent’s hair from gold to something paler and finer; the bones of his face appeared as delicate as the calamus of a feather. He was relaxed against the doorway of the stables as though he’d been there quite a while, which would explain the colour of Jord’s face.

laurent lean #9. smug eavesdropping.

And he did not need gilt to be recognised under a parade standard, only the uncovered bright of his hair.

i’m counting this as damen likes blondes mention #6. implies that laurent is “parade standard” simply because of his pretty hair.

Laurent paced forward. His eyes passed over Damen in turn, displaying jagged distaste. Seeing him in armour seemed to have drawn something unpleasant from the depths. ‘Too civilised?’ ‘Hardly,’ said Laurent.

context: “i cannot fucking believe i’m dressing up my brother’s barbaric killer like a veretian and letting him join my traveling party”

‘What is he doing here?’ ‘Captaining the Guard.’ ‘What?’ ‘Yes, it’s an interesting arrangement, isn’t it?’ said Laurent.

oh, he’s SEETHING. humor as deflection.

‘You should throw him a pet to keep him off the men,’ said Jord. ‘No,’ said Laurent, after a moment. He said it thoughtfully.

context: mainly i think laurent knows that govart’s unsatisfied libido is likely to make him screw up. but also i’d like to believe that he’s just super over the pet stuff

Laurent took it without saying anything. He tucked it carefully into a fold of his riding clothes. Then after a moment, he reached out, and touched Nicaise’s chin with one knuckle. ‘You look better without all the paint,’ said Laurent.

oh he cares about this kid so much, and clearly values his gift. this is the most affectionate we’ve seen laurent in the entire book.

‘Do you think a compliment will impress me?’ said Nicaise. ‘It won’t. I get them all the time.’ ‘I know you do,’ said Laurent.

“so did i.”

‘I’m coming back,’ said Laurent. ‘Is that what you think?’

context: this is meant as a comfort to nicaise, but nicaise hears it as a threat.

neither of them believes that they would ever deserve or receive protection.

‘I’m coming back,’ said Laurent. ‘To keep me as a pet?’ said Nicaise. ‘You’d love that. To make me your servant.’ Dawn passed over the courtyard. Colours changed. A sparrow landed on one of the stable posts close by him, but lifted off again at the sound of one of the men dropping an armful of tack. ‘I would never ask you to do anything you found distasteful,’ said Laurent.

context: this is the truth.

It didn’t surprise Damen that Laurent was popular with the townspeople. He looked the part, all bright hair and astonishing profile. A golden prince was easy to love if you did not have to watch him picking wings off flies. Straight-backed and effortless in the saddle, he had an exquisite seat, when he was not killing his horse.

NICE VS. GOOD THEME! damen thinks that if the townspeople saw laurent as he does—a bitch—they would realize that he isn’t good. because he still believes, most of the time, that niceness equates to goodness. and so every pleasant quality laurent possesses—his appearance, his title, and his skills—is in opposition with his unpleasant behavior. laurent’s unpleasant actions and qualities are, simply, Not Good. and damen is too distracted by laurent’s more tasteful qualities to consider how his distasteful decisions could be more ethical than they appear (for example, mercy killing the horse his uncle poisoned).

inversely, we have damen and akielion slavery. damen knows the gentle submission of slaves in ios, and the way their masters “honor” them—in that, he sees goodness. but when he sees the cruel way veretians treat akielion slaves, he sees wrongness, which he then advocates against. but what he can’t see, is that “palatable slavery” (gag) is still slavery, and just as wrong in akielos as it is in vere. and it is just as evil of akielos to partake in the institution, if not more evil since it’s their institution in the first place, than whatever is going on in vere.

damen has moral integrity. he has a mind and he uses it. but he also has a massive blind spot, because he believes that everyone else in the world is as honorable as he is.

laurent has the opposite blind spot. he doesn’t expect anyone to be honorable, ever. least of all his brother’s killer.

the two of them make a good team.

final notes

damen likes blondes mentions: 6

laurent leans: 9

(nice)

character elements to watch out for:

laurent perspective context (knowing what i know, what sense can i make?)

laurent & nicaise

laurent coping mechanisms (pretending, delusion)

damen coping mechanisms (avoidance, distraction)

damen reconsidering the ethics of akielios

mutual moral arbitration

series themes:

niceness vs. goodness

submission vs. respect - “there is no honour in obedience”

suffering alone vs. fighting together

pain and humor

honor and integrity

sex, power, innocence, violence

trauma, desire, consent

#YAYYYY!#done book 1 #this was super fun #capri #sam reads capri #captive prince #damen of akielos #laurent of vere #lamen #please feel free to share your thoughts!!

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legendarceus · 11 months

Text

volo is cynthia / cyllene is cyrus au: family trees

and also me talking about them :)

put below keep reading bc its gonna be a lot lmfao

cynthia (volo) family tree

cynthia is cogita's grandkid! her parents weren't present so cogita raised her until, of course, she got disowned for the whole trying to destroy the world thing. cogita sadly passed away before they could truly reconcile.

while there is no canon ancestor to iris, i think its fun to say that cynthia met iris' ancestor and they had kids and 200 years or something later, iris exists and cynthia gets to meet her great great great great grandchild or something. we'll come back to iris in a minute :)

i also think that lusamine also decended from cynthia, which means gladion and lillie also are related to cynthia! not that its important but you know. giant family.

i do ship cynthia and diantha. i think diantha is one of the few who know that cynthia is immortal but was most definitely the most recent to find out. iris is not aware of this. but these three are found family anyway <3

speaking of found family, prof. carolina and cynthia's younger sister are purely adoptive of sorts. but they're still found family. love them. wow cynthia 2 found families thats crazy.

cyrus (cyllene) family tree

yes this looks odd without context but we do have context so it doesnt matter. cyllene x laventon is canon and you can pry it from my cold dead hands. too bad cyllene got widowed and then found out they were immortal AND trans after laventon died.

anyway, cy and lav were married and akari + rei were their adoptive kids. ingo was akari and rei's adoptive uncle too but that isnt relavent to the family tree. also laventon is a distant relative to leon and hop :) maybe he had siblings or cousins who are great (x?) grandparents to them. who knows.

anyway damn cyrus why do you got 2 found families. but yeah team galactic is naturally cyrus' found family of course. he is his commanders exhausted adoptive father since all of their families suck lmao

mars family tree

i think mars and cynthia have the biggest family trees. anyway mars' was the first one that i did incase that wasn't obvious lmfao, but anyway, lets get into it!!!

arezu is ariana's great (x?) grandmother. ariana had a spouse that she had mars (maria at the time) with, but then she left them once she was like 'oh shoot im having silver!!!', so mars is vaguely aware that silver exists somewhere out there but she has no clue who he is otherwise. and then ariana and giovanni are married and had silver, who has no idea who mars is (he'd probably go through a crisis if he looked at sinnoh news, so lets keep it that way). silv and mars have a 9 year age gap btw just throwing that out there

silver found a new dad (lance) and some really weird teenagers about his age who he got stuck with. he's dating one of them. you have to guess. (i already know which one but im leaving it up to the mind bc silver isnt the focus in this au so imagine whatever you want).

mars and her silly little astronaut friends are her found family! i think arezu would flip her shit if she found out her great (x?) granddaughter was adoptive siblings with that one criminal lady (coin). but hey its fine!!! mars has her weird spaceman father and her weird astronaut siblings and life is good (mostly)

arezu deadass just has a bunch of decendants who commit various crimes

saturn / jupiter family tree

i grouped these two together since they've got the smallest family trees.

saturn is (obviously) a decendant of coin, but he has no contact with his family and hasn't spoken to them in years by the time pokemon platinum takes place.

jupiter and fantina are siblings (fantina is older by a few solid years) but they really don't like eachother. they have little contact with eachother and dont exactly speak often. but they do wish eachother happy birthday sometimes so thats a plusside i guess.

and of course saturn and jupiter both have found family with team galactic. awww how sweet :)

#galactic boss cyrus #champion cynthia #galactic commander saturn #galactic commander jupiter #galactic commander mars #pokemon #pokemon au #btw if it says “pronouns (pronouns)” then the parentheses is what the character would go by if they. you know.#figured it out. did some self reflection. werent 200 years in the past.#coin they/them is real in my heart but you know #miss fortune sisters #btw i gotta mention that candace and saturn are really really really distantly related

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calciseptinefic · 1 year

Text

then out of nowhere, somebody comes and hits you with an ooh la la la, ooh la la la, ooh la la la, ooh

Marvel || Wade Wilson/Peter Parker || Part 12 notes: Title from 'Mad Sounds' by Arctic Monkeys. Many thanks to babygato for her beta on this chapter. this fic is also available on ao3 warnings: none

← previous: Part 11

Wade’s head is a mess as Peter tells the story of him and the other Wade.

It begins the way Wade already knows it does: Peter was fifteen when he was bitten by a radioactive spider and got his unique powers. It was a thrill, at first; he was strong when he had once been weak, and the possibilities of being someone more than poor, puny Peter Parker went to his head. Doing good for nothing more than the sake of helping others did not cross his mind until his inaction led to the death of his uncle.

"I was angry," Peter tells them softly. "One of the people I loved the most in the world was suddenly gone and the man who did it was still... out there. Sure, I stopped purse snatchers and returned stolen bicycles and got the occasional cat out of a tree, but I was definitely looking for that man. Looking for trouble. And I found both, eventually."

Wade tries to listen. Tries to pay attention and tries to follow along. Tries to imagine Peter younger and smaller, shaking with guilt and rage as he confronted the man who murdered his uncle, tries to empathize with how easy it would be to kill—not just because Peter had the proportional strength and agility of a spider, but because killing was easy when revenge felt like justice.

"I didn't know the guy was involved in bigger things, and I got in over my head," Peter explains. "Sixteen and already on Kingpin's radar. They put a hit out on me and... well..."

Peter is telling Wade this story for a reason. To apologize, maybe, or to explain why he kept the truth from Wade. He sits on the edge of the couch cushion, folded hands tucked between his knees, and tells them that, in his universe, Wade Wilson is a mercenary infamously known as Deadpool. He was contracted by the mob to bring Spiderman to them, dead or alive, and when he accepted the job, he didn't know that Spiderman was a teenager. He knew, several hours after, because Peter didn't realize that the low level buzzing in his brain was a warning that someone was following him; he just went home, tired from a long day of classes and patrol, and collapsed onto his bed while Deadpool watched him from the opposite rooftop.

But this story doesn’t make Wade feel any better or any less lied to.

In fact, it might be making him feel worse.

"I hated him, at first," Peter says, smiling sweetly down at his ring. "I thought he was crude and obnoxious and a little holier-than-thou than warranted, given that he was a mercenary for hire. But under that he was funny and sincere and always tried his best. Life had dealt him one of the shittiest hands it could and yet there he was, protecting a stupid teenager from the mob, buying me tacos and keeping me safe despite the danger it put him in."

"A big marshmallow," rePete says, turning his gaze to Wade.

"Don't look at me," Wade says, shaking his head. "I’m not him."

"Yeah, sure." Peter rolls his eyes. "That's why you immediately let me sleep on your couch. Fed me. Sheltered me. That's why you let me drag you all over New York even though you didn't believe me."

Surprised, Wade says, "You knew?"

"What, that you didn't believe me?" Peter snorts. "Come on, Wade. I've known you for ten years. I know what you look like when you're analyzing a situation from every angle—"

Ten years.

For Wade, it's the last straw. For the past two days, he's been hyper-vigilant: trying to keep Peter safe while constantly running into wall after wall after wall; trying to ignore a surge of inappropriate feelings every time Peter smiled at him; trying to wrap his brain around the reality of alternate universes and super powers and magic. All he’s been doing is trying and he’s exhausted to learn that most of it was for nothing. The sudden loss of that stress leaves a vacuum behind, an emptiness that's easily filled by his confused and aimless anger. He interrupts Peter with a snarl, slamming a fist down on the coffee table with a loud bang.

"But you don't," Wade snaps viciously. "You don't know me. You can't know me. You just—you broke into my apartment, and I tried to shoot you, for fuck's sake, and you decided, 'Oh, this man is my husband in my universe, so that's alright'?" Wade's voice has steadily risen to a shout, and his throat tight with the force of it, face hot. "You made all these blind assumptions about who you thought I was, Pete! Do you even know how fucking stupid that is? I could have killed you!"

Wade knows he looks terrifying—teeth bared in frustration, scar stark against his skin, shoulders rounded for a fight—but neither Peter seems to be scared. They're just staring at him with their big doe eyes, mouths pinched into identical frowns, clearly upset but not at him.

For him.

"Fuck you both," Wade snarls, getting to his feet. It's hard beneath the weight of their combined stare, but he needs to get away. Not out of the apartment but just—away. Mindlessly, Wade snatches the dirty plates and utensils off the coffee table before storming into the kitchen; he dumps everything into the sink, cranks on the hot water and squeezes out some dish soap. There's no real division between Wade and the Peters except for the kitchen island, but having his back turned to them is enough.

You're a good man, Wade Wilson, Peter had said. In every universe.

A big marshmallow on the inside, rePete had said.

You make it very hard to love you, Vanessa had cried.

Wade waits until the sink is full to turn off the tap, suds threatening to spill over the sides. When he dips his hands in, the water is scalding; he hisses at the prickling sensation, but doesn't pull out. The key is acclimation. Soon, his body will adjust, and he'll forget that it's supposed to hurt.

The apartment is quiet as Wade starts on the veritable mountain of dishes that has been building up for the past two days. He grabs the green scouring pad and begins to scrub, and scrub, and scrub at crusted-on food and coffee stains. Having something to do with his hands helps—he’s always been a doer—but as his fury seeps from him, he begins to feel the soreness of resentment and exhaustion.

Peter comes over when most of Wade's anger has faded. He pulls a clean towel out of a nearby drawer and silently starts to take the washed dishes from Wade, drying them and putting them away. There is no hesitation as he does so; maybe he and the other Wade—Peter's husband—keep them in the same places.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Wade asks as the dishes dwindle steadily down. He’s calm enough now to ask the question that sits at the root of his sudden rage, but it still leaves his mouth like an accusation. "That you're married to... other me."

Peter finishes wiping down the stainless steel pan in his hands. Puts it back. Waits for Wade to give him another dish to dry and huffs when Wade purposefully keeps his hands submerged in the water.

"A few reasons," Peter admits begrudgingly. "At first, it was because I didn't want you to treat me differently or feel obligated to help me. You were already being so nice to me—flirting with me—and I didn't want to come out and say, hey! Guess what! You're my husband in my universe!" Peter sighs. "You were already giving me so much that it felt... selfish, to want more."

"You totally could have," Wade tells Peter, handing him a wet plate. "I was already invested."

"But that's why I couldn't, you know?" Peter wipes the plate more thoroughly than necessary before putting it in the cabinet. "You had already decided to help me and I know that when you decide to do something, you give maximum effort. Not telling you was also a way to remind myself that you aren't my husband, because you two are honestly so similar. I'm sorry I flirted with you constantly, but—"

"Wait, what?" Wade frowns, turning his attention away from the other plate in his hands to Peter. "You were flirting with me?"

"Since I got here," Peter drawls. "Thanks for noticing."

From the couch, rePete stifles a snort of highly amused laughter.

"Huh," Wade says. "I thought you were just comfortable with me."

"I am comfortable with you," Peter says, "because I've been married to my Wade for five years and—before that—we dated on and off since I graduated high school. And I know you don't want to hear it, but you're really not that different. Not in the ways that matter."

Wade gives Peter the last plate, letting him dry it and put it away, before saying, "I'm sorry I shouted." Staring down into the sink, Wade watches the suds break slowly on the surface of the water. "It's been a long two days."

"Tell me about it," Peter commiserates, bumping his hip gently against Wade's. It's a mirror of the movement rePete did earlier, and any hard feelings Wade might have still harbored for being compared to his other self vanishes. He can't fault Peter for drawing parallels when he does the same thing for Peter and rePete. Wade knows and appreciates that they're individual beings with unique experiences, but it's impossible not to acknowledge their similarities.

Argument settled, Wade and Peter fall into a comfortable silence as they finish the dishes. Or—that's what would have happened, if Peter's head didn't snap up, suddenly and brutally alert. Wade puts the mug he was holding out back into the sink.

"Pete?"

"Do you feel that?" Peter asks stiffly. He steps away from the sink and turns in a slow circle, eyes darting to every corner of Wade's apartment. "My spidey-sense is going crazy, but I can't pinpoint where it's coming from."

Wade doesn't feel anything. He briefly closes his eyes to try and use his own intuition to feel what Peter's feeling. Nothing. He opens his eyes, and is about to tell Peter as much, when a huge wave of not-right washes over him. It makes every hair on his body stand up, gooseflesh breaking out on his arms and the back of his neck.

"Baldy?" Wade gasps.

"No," Peter answers, still looking around frantically. "Still in the tub."

"Then what—"

A roar just beyond the edge of audibility forms from no direction. It is more sensation than sound, a mute noise that makes Wade think of damp construction paper being slowly torn down the middle, but infinitely magnified. It doesn't hurt—not in the way pain hurts—but the nerves in Wade's body are misfiring as something grows larger and larger between the atoms in the air.

"Umm, guys?" rePete all but yelps, clambering off the couch. He points a shaking finger at a thin shimmer sliced into an empty space by the wall. "What the hell is that?"

Both Peter and Wade dash into the living room. Hands still damp from washing dishes, Wade reaches under the couch to yank out the glock and spare magazine he has strapped to the underside of the frame; he slaps the magazine in place and unlocks the safety, lining the sight up with the steadily growing disturbance in his living room. The bigger it gets, the more unignorable that sensation of not-right becomes, a nauseating drone that settles into the hollows of Wade’s teeth and bones.

"Stay behind me," Wade barks at rePete, who is already behind him, fingers clutched in the fabric of Wade's sweater.

"Don't have to tell me twice," rePete says.

Next to Wade, Peter has shifted into a ready stance, his attention focused solely on the strange phenomenon occurring before them. The vague shimmer distorting the air becomes a roil and begins to spark. The small specks of light flare brightly, briefly, before breaking away harmlessly and disappearing. They are like the ones produced when Baldy used his magic, though these are warm gold instead of sickly green.

"Another spell?" Wade asks.

"Yeah," Peter answers. He’s still crouched, ready to attack or defend, yet the tightness in his shoulders have loosened. "But—Wade—I think these are—"

The shimmering cut in the air explodes without sound or heat, cutting Peter off. RePete yelps, moving completely behind Wade, as the golden sparks multiply to a near blinding shine. They whirl madly in a wide circle and—within it—there is an alleyway, empty and dim.

For a moment, nothing.

Then—

A tall, broad man steps through. His huge boots make no sound as they touch the floor. He's dressed in red and black leathers from head to toe, wearing a full cowl mask and a tactical belt; he’s armed to the teeth, carrying enough weaponry to take out a small squadron, including small knives and explosives and a pair of katanas. He also has a huge gun in each hand, the metal gleaming, and he radiates so much wrath and ill-intent that Wade's finger twitches on the trigger of his pistol. In Wade's experience, situations like these end better if he shoots first. Wade might have gone through with it too if—at the same time the man stepped through the glowing circle—Peter didn't step between them, arms flung out wide, and shout,

"Wade! Not an enemy!"

In tandem, Wade and the masked man who stepped through the portal point their guns at the floor.

What the fuck? Wade thinks at the same time the man in red-and-black asks, "Pete? Are you—"

"I'm okay," Peter answers quickly. His voice is high and thin, like it was last night, before he began to cry. "Wade, I'm—"

Wade watches as the other man holsters both guns and opens his arms. Peter lets out a single, choked sob—his only hesitation—then launches himself across the living room, over the coffee table, and into the man's arms. The man doesn't even stagger as Peter’s full weight hits him. He just holds Peter easily, wrapping his bulky arms around Peter's torso and tucking his face into the crook of Peter's neck. For a moment, they just hold each other tightly, relief evident in every line of their bodies.

Shock replaces every single one of Wade's thoughts. He knows that he's missing something—something important—but the past hour has left him emotionally exhausted. That fatigue combined with the sight of Peter clinging to some weirdo who just came through a magic portal is currently putting a serious strain on his mental processing power.

"God, baby boy, I'm so glad we found you," the man says, his low and raspy voice sounding as though his vocal chords went through a rock tumbler. One of his big, gloved hands runs up and down the length of Peter's exposed spine. "I fucking missed you."

"I missed you more," Peter burbles back, voice thick with unshed tears.

"I missed you mostest—"

"Break it up," interjects a third, new voice.

Wade automatically swings his glock back up and points it at the second person coming through the portal. This man is handsome, in an evil magician sort of way, with a pointed goatee and flashes of pure white at his temples. He's wearing dark blue robes of extremely ambiguous ethnicity and a crimson cloak. The long length of the cloak flutters gently in a non-existent wind while the man literally floats further into Wade's apartment, his feet hovering several inches off the floor.

"Strange," Peter greets. He lifts his head from the shoulder of the man holding him to do so, but otherwise stays put. "Good to see you too."

Strange. Wade's tired brain restarts with a twitch. Stephen Strange.

The Sorcerer Supreme from another universe.

Levitating in Wade's apartment in Queens.

"Holy shit," Wade says, lowering his gun. Every bizarre thing that happened within the last ninety seconds shifts into a frame of perfect understanding. His stare swings away from Strange's face—seriously, that perfectly arched eyebrow is a paid actor—to Peter and the man holding him. To his alternate self. Who... winks at him.

"Hey there, handsome," Deadpool croons. "First time?"

"Wade," Peter warns, finally untangling his limbs from his husband's body. "Be nice."

"I was being nice," Deadpool mumbles as he lets go of Peter just enough so Peter can slide to the floor. They're still pressed together, bodies a line from chest to thigh, Peter's curls brushing Deadpool's chin. "I was being complimentary, even! That hair: swoon-worthy! Those eyebrows: smoldering! Clear skin highlighted by a dashing, debonair scar—"

Peter elbows Deadpool in the ribs. Hard. Wade winces in sympathy—Peter's elbows are dangerous, and he has the bruises to prove it.

"As charming as this all is," Strange interrupts, raising his voice as he floats further into Wade's living room, "this portal will not hold indefinitely. We are here to bring Peter back to his universe. The sooner he returns, the more likely we will be able to prevent the untold tragedy of an Incursion, a world-ending cataclysm that will end the lives of trillions—"

"Christ," Wade mutters, resisting the urge to scrub at his tired eyes. "He talks Shakespeare worse than Baldy."

Behind Wade, rePete adds dryly, "It must be part of the core curriculum at wizard school."

RePete is still largely hidden behind Wade, but he's gotten to his tip-toes to peer over Wade's shoulder at the scene unfolding before them; he has both hands on Wade's back, using Wade as a balance. When Wade giggles at his commentary, Deadpool's head snaps back towards them, spotting rePete for the first time.

"Oh. Em. Gee." The white eyes of Deadpool's mask widen and he covers his mouth with one hand dramatically. "Is that... Petey-Pie, take two?"

"That's offensive," rePete says. "How do you know I'm not the original?"

The noise Deadpool releases is caught between what a human throat is capable of and the shriek of a deflating balloon. His head swings from Peter—who is pinching the bridge of his nose—and rePete, who takes a tentative half-step forward and waves.

"I'm pretty sure I've died again," Deadpool says in disbelief, one hand clutching at his suit over his heart. "Not one but two baby boys? Both of them sassy and sexy? There's no way I'm sneaking past the pearly gates to get into that kind of heaven, so maybe I'm hallucinating again?"

"Alternate universe, Wade," Peter reminds his husband gently.

"Right." Deadpool straightens, one arm still slung around Peter's shoulders. The wide and charming grin he dons is the same one Wade uses when he wants to fight or fuck. Wade doesn't know what's more disturbing: the fact that he and Deadpool share mannerisms or that Deadpool can emote clearly through his mask. "This might be a little off the cuff, but… You guys come here often?"

What, Wade thinks as rePete chirps, "Nah, first time," and Peter simultaneously hisses, "Wade, no—"

"I did not open an interdimensional portal for you to proposition your alternate selves," the Sorcerer Supreme says icily. He floats further into the living room and holds out his arms, palms upturned and spitting more golden sparks in a display of power. It would be impressive if his shin didn't accidentally bump the corner of Wade's coffee table. "Ahh—goddamnit—"

Wade and Deadpool burst into identical giggles. Strange drops to the floor and glares at them, attempting to straighten his still fluttering cloak. The cloak must have a mind of its own because it continues to roll in gentle waves despite Strange's tugging.

"Come on, funky magic man," Deadpool wheedles. "An orgy of this caliber is like, a once in a lifetime opportunity! Or—wait. I dimension hopped in December and met my zombie counterpart, so I guess it's more like a once in a yearly occurrence?" Deadpool shrugs. "Didn't fuck, though. That guy was even uglier than I am, sheesh."

"Be that as it may," Strange interjects, raising his voice above Deadpool's continued muttering. "We have come to retrieve you, Peter, before your presence in this universe causes permanent damage. The sooner we return, the smaller the ripple effects will be."

"What about the guy in my bathtub? I don't know how much longer he's gonna remain unconscious and I really don't know how to handle non-metaphorical Death Eaters." Wade asks, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "He's from your universe too, isn't he? Don't you need to take him?"

"Bathtub?" Strange repeats, as though that was the weirdest detail in Wade's sentence and not the 'from your universe' bit.

"Yeeeeah," Wade says slowly. "Do you not have bathtubs in your universe?"

Strange opens his mouth to answer. He's clearly frustrated—Wade can see it in the downward angle of his eyebrows and the tightness of his mouth—but he does not let Wade goad him further. He simply stops himself and takes a deep, calming breath, and says faux serenely, "We have bathtubs."

Next to Wade, rePete does a very bad job at turning his laugh into a cough.

"We had to incapacitate him, earlier," Peter explains to Strange. "He attacked Peter, thinking he was you in disguise, and after we knocked him out, we brought him here. His magic is kinda like yours, but green. And not nearly as strong."

"Perversions of the natural forces used by magic manifest as different colors." Strange looks past Wade and rePete to the bathroom, the door partially ajar. "Purple and red are the most common, derived respectively from the teachings of the Dormammu or Cththon. Green is indicative of the Order of the Forsaken Ones, who were cast out by the first Sorcerer Supreme, Agamotto, for their heresy." He pauses for dramatic effect, though the gravity of his words is ruined by his still moving cape, the red cloth jerking around like the tail of a dying fish. "It is… lucky, then, that you fell into this universe."

Peter tilts his head to the side and asks, "Considering?"

"This world, Earth-82467, is not devoid of magic. No world is. But it is hidden here, buried deep and far, and incredibly hard to access. In our universe, a member of the Forsaken Ones would be a formidable opponent. Here, they would only be able to access a fraction of their usual power." Strange looks down at his hands; Wade can see that the fingers are scarred and trembling. "Yet since I am bound by different laws than the Forsaken Ones, it is possible that—in this reality—I would have been unable to defeat them."

"So you're saying that my precious Petey Pie saved your ass," Deadpool sing-songs.

"By accident and happenstance, yes," Strange snaps. Then, to Peter, he dips his head in acknowledgement. "But I am not ungrateful. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Peter returns.

Clearly done with the awkwardness of gratitude, Strange crosses the living room threshold, passes Wade and rePete, and enters the bathroom. With his back turned, it's difficult to see what he is doing, but the large, expanding motions of his arms are reminiscent of the way Baldy spellcast. Warm light fills the small space—a literal sparkle of magic—and the webbed-up body of the Forsaken One rises out of the tub. When Strange exits the bathroom and heads back towards the portal, the body bobs along behind him; both Wade and rePete take a step back from it, perturbed.

"Strange," Peter says.

The Sorcerer Supreme pauses at the threshold of the portal, cocking an eyebrow.

"Can we have five minutes?" asks Peter. When Strange hesitates, Peter adds, "I'll keep it PG. Promise."

Strange's gaze flickers from Peter's face to Deadpool. Deadpool kicks up a foot and flattens a hand under his chin; add in a halo and a set of baby angel wings, and he'd be the leather-wearing, katana-wielding picture of innocence. It isn't fooling anyone.

"Five minutes," Strange concedes. "And if you are not back in our dimension by that time—"

"I thought we were keeping it PG?" says Deadpool. "I mean, the fic rating is M for Mature Audiences, so it could have adult content. [ Proceed ] or [ Go Back ]? Myself, I'm always logged in on multiple devices—"

"I will never understand you," Strange hisses. Then—with a dramatic whirl hindered by asynchronous twitching of his cloak—the Sorcerer Supreme and the unconscious form of the Forsaken Dipshit cross the portal back into their original dimension.

"We bonded," Deadpool says into the silence.

RePete barks a laugh. "Does bonding mean something different in your universe or…"

"No, it definitely means the same thing," Peter says. "It just means something else to Wade."

"I've been thrown out a window three times in the past twenty-four hours," Deadpool tells them cheerfully. "One time, the window was actually open first!"

Wade legitimately does not know if Deadpool is joking or not. He himself has been defenestrated a half dozen times, and none of them have been fun overtures of friendship. Wade considers asking, but before he can even open his mouth, Peter reaches up towards his husband's masked cheek and gently says, "Wade."

Deadpool tilts his head downwards.

"We don't have a lot of time," Peter says. "And I want to talk to Wade before we have to go."

"Leaving me for the better looking version, baby boy?" Deadpool teases. "I thought you liked the forgotten slice of salami that is my face."

"Forever my favorite kind of meat," Peter grins. Then, more seriously, "Without commentary, please. It's important."

"Ugh, fine," Deadpool whines. "The things I do for that ass."

Peter rises onto his tiptoes and presses a kiss against Deadpool's mouth. It's a small gesture, but it speaks to the years they've been together; it's the kind of kiss that can only be given after it has been given a thousand times. It should make Wade jealous, as the other things concerning Peter and his spouse have made him jealous, yet it does not. Seeing this kiss only makes Wade ache.

Falling back to his heels, Peter and Deadpool separate for the first time since the portal opened. Peter's hand skims down Deadpool's arm, a reassurance, before he turns around and walks towards Wade. Over the top of Peter's head, Wade makes eye contact with Deadpool; Deadpool smiles and gives Wade a thumbs up. He's startlingly blasé about the fact that he's interacting with an alternate version of himself, though Wade supposes that, after a while, one gets used to the weirdness.

"Kitchen?" Peter suggests.

It's as good a place as any, and Wade follows Peter back to where they had been minutes before. The sink is still filled with water, though most of the suds have dissolved, leaving behind a murky sheen. In the living room, Deadpool has approached rePete; whatever conversation they're having is no more than a low, undecipherable murmur.

"So." Wade rubs the back of his neck, unable to look at Peter directly for fear of what his face will give away. "I guess this is goodbye—"

Peter makes the same high, choked noise he made when Deadpool came through the portal, and flings his arms around Wade's shoulders, face tucked into Wade's throat. Wade immediately wraps his arms around Peter's waist, closes his eyes and dips his own head down, hiding himself in Peter's embrace. Wade hasn't been hugged like this in years. Not since Vanessa. He feels a small part of him break as he hugs back, uncaring that he's holding Peter too tight.

"I'm so glad you broke into my apartment," Wade tells him, voice low. He can feel the hot threat of tears building behind his eyes. "Pete—"

"I know, Wade," Peter whispers. "I know."

For a minute, they say nothing. They just stand there and hold each other. Wade—who has a reputation for being a chatterbox even in the most dire of situations—finds himself unable to speak. He wants to tell Peter everything he feels roiling in his chest, but articulating those feelings into the right words is impossible. It shouldn't be. Wade's only known Peter for two days. Two long, odd days in which he's done things he's never done before: he's shot at a shadow; made a spider-themed superhero some pancakes; attempted to read several scientific papers about space-time; tried to track down the most powerful sorcerer in the universe; participated in a fight with a wizard from another dimension; met an alternate version of himself; and found himself here, back in his apartment where it all started, saying good-bye to the man who changed his life.

"I'm never gonna see you again, am I?" Wade croaks.

"Probably not," Peter says. His voice is as gentle as Wade has ever heard it, but each syllable still feels like a blow. Wade knew, conceptually at least, that he would have to eventually say goodbye to Peter; he just didn't think it would be so soon, and the sense of sudden loss swells in his chest.

"It's just…" Wade swallows. "You made me feel… less alone."

Peter inhales shakily. Loosens his arms. Falls back just far enough so he can reach up with both hands and cradle Wade's jaw. His thumbs are under Wade's still closed eyes, brushing away the tears that have managed to escape. The tenderness of his touch is a contrast to the crushing weight of Wade's loneliness; Peter's presence had kept the worst of it away and, for the first time in years, Wade had been unburdened and happy, if not carefree. To go back to the way things were even forty-eight hours ago feels cruel.

"Wade," Peter says, smudging more of Wade's tears from his cheeks. "Baby, please. Look at me."

Helpless to do anything but obey, Wade opens his eyes. Peter's own eyes are glassy and his mouth trembles as he attempts a watery smile.

"I'm so happy I got to meet you," Peter tells him. "Both again, and for the first time. But we both know that I don't belong here. This isn't my universe, and I need to go home."

"I know." Wade's hands briefly tighten around Peter's waist in contradiction. "I just… wish we had more time. I'm not ready to be alone again."

"You won't be." Peter's hands slide further back, fingers overlapping on the nap of Wade's neck, and give a reassuring squeeze. "I don't know if you noticed, but this universe's version of me is standing in your living room, flirting with my husband, who is another version of you. And maybe it's corny of me, but I like to think that in every universe that has a me and a you, we're… together."

"That is corny," Wade admits. "But I like to think that too."

Peter smiles again, and it's more solid than the last one. He says, "It will be okay," and slowly releases Wade. A wild thought tears through Wade's brain—what if he grabbed Peter and just never let go—but he knows Peter's right. No matter how much Wade wants him to stay, Peter needs to return to his universe. Wade's hands slide from Peter's body and fall limp to his sides.

"Five minutes, Peter," Deadpool says, raising his voice slightly.

"Alright," Peter answers. He touches Wade's cheek one more time—the side of his face that's marred by his scar—then heads back to the living room. Wade follows as though he's being tugged along by an invisible string. He watches unblinkingly as Peter gathers the folded remnants of his Spiderman costume from underneath the coffee table, bundling the red and blue spandex beneath one arm, then goes to stand by his husband. The portal shines golden around them, illuminating their bodies in warmth.

"Got everything?" Deadpool asks, holding out a gloved hand.

"Yeah." Peter slips his hand into Deadpool's. "Let's go home."

Both of them look back as they go through the portal. Deadpool gives a wink and a jaunty salute—the same thing Wade would have done, if their roles were switched—while Peter gives a small wave. He says, "Thank you for everything, Wade," and then—

And then they're gone.

The portal fades without fanfare. The circle shrinks, cutting off the bridge between their dimensions, and the golden sparks of magic fade to nonexistence. All that remains is Wade's familiar apartment and the two people who stayed.

For a long moment, Wade stares at the negative space where the portal had been. His glimpse into the world beyond and the lives it contained feels like a metaphor. It probably is a metaphor—something about love, something about chance, something about possibility, blah blah blah—but Wade doesn't want to think about it right now. Right now, it still hurts. Hurts not because he lost it, but because it happened. It's a clean hurt, though, the kind Wade knows he'll get over once enough time has passed; the kind of hurt that will be eventually forgotten, and replaced by fondness and nostalgia.

"So," rePete says gently, walking over to Wade.

Burying his hurt for later, Wade scrubs the last of the damp from his face and turns to look at rePete. No, that's not fair. Wade turns to look at this universe's Peter Benjamin Parker. Peter, who doesn't trust Wade like other Peter did. Peter, who doesn't know Wade like other Peter did. Peter, who likes Wade enough to flirt with him, but remains both a stranger and a potential future.

"So," Wade echoes.

They stare at one another silently. Assessing. Acknowledging. Wade's seen how in love Other-Wade and other-Peter are, and he can admit that he wants that. He wants it so badly he can feel it like a knife that's been left in him for too long, deep and aching and bleeding sluggishly. But as much as he wants to be known—like he is, in another universe, by another Peter—Wade is completely, soul-shakingly terrified. He's been alone for years. Not just in the three years since he and Vanessa broke up, but in the years before that:

As a dishonorably discharged fuck-up taking odd jobs to meet ends.

As a soldier who learned a million ways to kill someone but couldn't form a single genuine emotional connection.

As a snotty teen who broke rules and had his bones broken.

As a scared kid who missed his mom.

Wade wants to be somebody to someone. And he knows he might have that with the Peter in front of him, if he can take this small leap of faith, if he can put in the work, if he can allow himself to be vulnerable enough to be known. It's not like it was with the other Peter—who already trusted him, knew him—but if it means having something like that? If it means not being alone?

Wade can be brave.

"Okay, elephant in the room," Wade says, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. His eyes slide from Peter's face to the coffee table, still a little off-kilter from where Strange had slammed his shin into the corner. "But our alternate universe selves are like, super in love and happily married, and frankly, I'm jealous of those assholes. And I'm not saying that we're obligated to... follow in their footsteps, because I know that I'm not exactly like that Wade Wilson and that you're not exactly like that Peter Parker, but honestly? Cards on the table?" Wade gives a small, choked laugh. "You're overwhelmingly the kind of guy I go for—in multiple universes, it seems—and I would absolutely kick myself if I didn't at least try to get your number."

"Are you... asking me out on a date?" Peter asks, his tone vaguely unsure.

"Uh, badly, but yes." Wade takes a deep breath. Squares his shoulders. Looks up at Peter, with his big doe eyes and his freckles and his thick brown curls, and says, "I, Wade Wilson of Earth-867-5309 or whatever the fuck that wizard man said, am formally asking you, Peter Parker, out for an awkward dinner of greasy wings and cheap beer, whichever night you are available."

Peter bites his bottom lip and tilts his head to the side, and asks, "Whichever night?"

He still sounds unsure. Wade tries very hard not to deflate and jokes, "Too desperate?"

"Well, it's only..." Peter checks his watch. "Four in the afternoon, and we did just eat, but I could really go for that beer. This afternoon has been an absolute clusterfuck, and I don't want to process it until I'm alone in my shower."

"Gonna have a little existential crisis?"

"Medium sized one, probably." Peter drags a hand through his hair before grinning at Wade. There's a mischievous twist to it that makes Wade go weak at the knees. "Anyway, there's a pub near my place that does three-dollar domestic pitchers until six. Unless… you want to wait?"

"Fuck that," Wade replies. "Let's go get crunk on cheap beer and make awkward small talk. Talk about the weather. Talk about our exes. Religion, politics—literally anything but the multiverse, please."

"Agreed. The multiverse is definitely third date material."

Third date. Just the suggestion of it makes Wade smile so wide that his scar hurts. It makes him think that Peter wants this as much as he does, that Peter saw the same thing Wade saw when their counterparts came together. It won't be easy—no strong relationship is built without testing its foundations—but it will be worth it. Wade and Peter have seen that.

"Oh, and Wade?" Peter says. "One more thing before we go."

"What is it?" Wade asks, raising an eyebrow. "It's too late for take-backsies, you know."

"Not a take-backsie," Peter assures.

"Okay then." Wade spreads out his arms wide, as though daring Peter to give it his best shot. "Lay it on me, Parker."

Peter grins. Takes a step forward. Both of his hands slide around Wade's neck, pulling him down, and then Peter is kissing him, firm and sure. Surprise keeps Wade still for less than a second—but surprise cannot hold against the rush of happiness and giddy delight that quickly follows. Wade tilts his head to deepen the kiss and his fingers come up to clutch at Peter's denim clad hips; he can hear the way Peter's breath hitches, feel the way Peter smiles against his mouth. It's their first kiss but, somehow, it's like they've done it before. Like the kiss is an infinite constant within infinite possibilities.

And as they fall further into one another—standing together in the apartment where it all began, and then continued—Wade decides he can live with those odds.

end.

#spideypool #deadpool #spiderman #wade wilson #peter parker #pairing: wade wilson/peter parker #rating: m #fandom: marvel

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the-one-and-only-aroace · 9 months

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A non-exhaustive list of queer middle grade books/series

(Will definitely be adding more books as time goes on, because I got all of these from my library, and don’t remember most of the title I get from there)

Too bright to see

12 year old bug is haunted by their dead, former drag queen uncle. Meets a new boy in town and struggles with doing Girl. Very fun, pretty light hearted. There’s no anti-queerness and no transphobia, which is fun. Great escapist/ cathartic read if you want to experience a trans awakening that isn’t deeply traumatic. Directly uses label transgender.

Every bird a prince

Probably my fav. Eren is also struggling to Girl. All her friends have become infatuated with crushes, and she’s forced to pick one out herself. She rescues a bird, and becomes a bird champion to defeat the self doubt ice monsters known as frost wings. Gay and aro solidarity, with some mild arophobia. More realistic in my opinion, but also not very angsty. There’s other casual rep, and queer solidarity is what presents the label aromantic. Actually labels the mc as aromantic, because the author isn’t a coward (looking at you rick riordan)

The pants project

Trans boy campaigns to let “girl” students wear pants. There’s no trans realization and I think he just comes out to us on the first page? Within the first 5, I’m sure. Deals mainly with coming out and self expression. There’s no transphobia on a familial/friend level, I believe. I’ve only read this once a while ago, so my memory’s hazy.

Thanks a lot, universe

Brian’s just a gay boy trying to be a good friend to his crush. And sometimes being a good friend means violating a couple laws. Ezra’s life is falling apart in more ways than one, and he ends up running away from his foster home. Very sweet, there’s some homophobia in there, but all in all, it’s about friendship and finding acceptance. The two main characters don’t end up together, but that doesn’t detract from the story.

(That’s all I can remember well enough to write about, but will be adding several more next time I go to the library and get a refresher on all the queer middle grade I’ve read and can read more)

Also disclaimer: the bigotry labels are for what they contain, not what they are, none of these are queerphobic from my perspective, and I don’t want the labels to warn people off.

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jiskblr · 2 years

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Inuyasha Osmosis

Glowfic is doing an Inuyasha thread. Before I start actually learning things about the setting and characters, here is my not-actually-dashboard osmosis of what I know about the characters. Mainly from the Adult Swim Flash game ‘Inuyasha: Demon Tournament’ though I think I must have looked some of this up somewhere at some point.

Inuyasha

wolf boy

I Am Not Protagonist

SO ANGERY

probably tsundere

defector from Always Chaotic Evil

Kagome

I Am Protagonist

from the future

not going to change clothes ever so that you don’t forget I’m from the future

argh why am I here why are so many Things happening

Kikyo(?)

Mary Sue

“stop telling people I’m dead!”

but probably actually dead

The Shiny Object

MacGuffin

gets broken into pieces?

Kobayashi Maru Sesshomaru(?)

thinks he’s much cooler than you

he’s probably right

Disc One Final Boss

the kind of villain who will team up with you against the scarier villain

probably Inuyasha’s father or brother or uncle or something

Heroku

monk

designated pervert

generally kind of an asshole even besides that?

will do the right thing once he’s exhausted all other options

Zeppo Marx Shippo

Rule 63 Squirrel Girl

designated cute smol

extremely annoying

metacausally very happy Miroku is around so he doesn’t also have to be designated pervert

Xena Sango

not compensating for anything

makes Kagome feel insecure about not being as cool as her

bet she’s some kind of mercenary or something

Kirara

Danger Kitty Fox

friends with Xena

probably a person?

Kagura

also thinks she’s cooler than you

bet she’s the Big Bad’s daughter or something

the kind who flirts constantly but has absolutely no romantic tension with anybody

definitely not going to team up with you against anyone, you’re not cool enough

Kuga

wolf boy... two!

the kind who’s raised by wolves this time

doesn’t have anything against the heroes but they keep getting in his way for some reason

not going to team up with you because teaming up with people is lame

teaming up with wolves is fine though

Toad Boy

minion

likes fire

probably gets used as a stress ball by whichever villain he’s working for

lame

Voldemort Heroku Naraku

actual final boss

this isn’t even my final form!

gloats too much

might actually be just a normal guy under the toothy mask and big-ass cloak

would kill all the heroes even if they were absolutely no threat or impediment to him

#dash osmosis #inuyasha

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signalwatch · 11 months

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Noir Watch: Impact (1949)

Watched: 07/17/2023

Format: TCM

Viewing: First

Director: Arthur Lubin

Over at Noir Alley on TCM, Eddie Muller does not guarantee that the movies are actually great. He's providing a wide swath of the material that was offered up as what would retroactively be dubbed "noir", providing a survey of the movement's variety of offerings, the people behind those films and the forces that created the movies. Crime stories and melodramas, mobsters, detectives, femme fatales, virtuous ladies, and well, well beyond.

Impact (1949) is a femme fatale story of *attempted* murder that has some interesting stuff bookending the film and a lot of tedious stuff in the middle, the portion of which is saved mostly by the existence of Ella Raines as human and co-star.

I confess - I am not a Brian Donlevy guy. He doesn't do anything *wrong*, he's in plenty of stuff I've watched and enjoyed, but he's just not someone I'd personally place as a lead in this film. But this is an indie picture and Donlevy was a get as a former leading man of a decade prior, so I understand why they jumped at the chance to put a 49-year-old dude in the role, even if it feels like the women in the film would more likely see him as a fun uncle.

Donlevy is married to Helen Walker, who seems sweet and great and is completely two-timing him with another fella. Posing as a long-lost-cousin of Walker, the fella hitches a ride with Donlevy where he attempts to bump him off with a crowbar to the noggin and rolling him down a hill. In his haste to get away from the scene, he drives directly into a gas truck in the finest use of miniatures you'll see in many-a-noir.

Donlevy recovers, winds up in Larkspur, BFE, and sulks before finding a job and life with Ella Raines. As one does.

Because his car done blowed up, folks think he's dead, and he's pondering let it seem that way, even as cops begin to put the pieces together and figure out what his wife was up to. She's about to go to trial and maybe get the chair when Ella Raines convinces Donlevy to go back and get real justice.

The cops decide they were wrong and Donlevy's absence means he was trying to get his wife killed and he must have murdered the boyfriend despite any real evidence, and.... it's mildly exhausting. And makes Ella Raines look like a jerk for putting her dude in this spot.

I dunno. The movie is... fine? It's not the best thing you'll see, and you can see what an indie picture could pull off in 1949. It's not nothing. I just suspect this thing needed some polish in the script room or in editing. I won't think about it much after this post.

It is definitely noir, I'll give it that. It's got femme fatales and virtuous, wholesome women offering something else. It's got twitchy guys and murder and bad luck. The most novel aspect was the twist to Donlevy being held for murder, but that never feels like it'll stick. But we do get Anna May Wong!

I just didn't love it, and that's ok. You be you, movie.

https://ift.tt/3a8Kv9V

from The Signal Watch https://ift.tt/umkarR6

#impact #movies #film noir #noir

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sorceress-coffee · 1 year

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RoA Chapter 37 KanjigAAARRRGGHH!!! & Homecoming

Chapter 37, Phase 3 of River of Arcadia

Ao3 Link

Disclaimer: The Trollhunter universe and characters don't belong to me. River, Eri, Eemeli, Ms. Kamaria/Sylvina, Garridan, Ganieda, and the Eclipse Guard are my own characters (List is subject to change as the story progresses). The lore is a mix of old Arthurian legends, ToA cannon lore, and my own that I've developed

for RoA.

Toby ended up spending the night with Draal, NotEnrique and I. We all spent the night down in the living room, watching action movies and eating take out. Currently we were trying to figure out how to get Vendel’s staff.

“Why can’t you just teleport in n’ take it?” NotEnrique asked, wondering why this was so difficult.

Toby shook his head, “Remember when she snapped at Angor Rot? The Heartstone responds to her magic. If she teleports inside, the Heartstone is a dead giveaway that she’s close and using magic.”

I groaned, teeth ripping through my slice of pizza. “We could ask Claire to portal us in again.”

NotEnrique snorted, having caught the last bit of conversation earlier in the night. “You and Pudgeface don’t seem to be seeing eye ta’ eye, moonlight.”

Shrugging, I was trying to keep it from irritating me too much, “I just want to get Jim out of the Darklands, if she wants to be mad at how I do that, oh well.” Huffing, I stretched my hand out, playing with the dark flames.

“That doesn’t hurt?” Draal asked, eyeing the flames closely, just as confused by my magic as the others.

“Nope, if it hadn’t melted the iron, I’d almost say it was cold.” I looked over the flames closing my hand to extinguish them again.

“How are you still doing that when you’re tired?” Toby asked, knowing I had been exhausted after barely being able to teleport us out of the orientation room.

“Different magic,” NotEnrique smirked, fascinated by the flames. “Spells don’t take the same amount of mana.”

“So, just to compare,” Toby began, looking unsure if he wanted to ask, a mischievous glint telling me he got over it. “Let’s say we compared their mana pools, whose is bigger?”

“Moonlight’s” NotEnrique laughed, jabbing his thumb at me, “Only Wizards with more mana MIGHT be Merlin and the Witch.”

Tilting my head, I wondered where that would put Claire then. She was a new wizard but seemed to have the shadow staff down well enough. “Alright, so how would you scale them?”

NotEnrique thought for a moment, humming to himself. “Lake Shasta versus the Pacific Ocean.”

My eyes widened in shock, that was definitely not the scale I thought he’d go with. “That doesn't seem off to you?”

Toby let out a low whistle, having to search up the sizes on google to get an idea of how far apart NotEnrique thought Claire and I were. “That’s terrifying.”

“She’s a baby witch with a fancy staff. The only reason she can use it like she does is because she feels strongly. You were an actual baby that learned how to teleport all around Camelot. Your uncle’s very fond of baby stories.” NotEnrique laughed, shaking his head.

“Hey!” Uncle James came out of the kitchen, watching over the house while we were supposed to be sleeping or planning. “You have a little wizard running around and she just goes ‘poof’ one day. See if you don’t panic.”

“Do I want to know?” I asked.

Uncle James shuddered, “I thought your mother was going to tear my spine out. The day you learned how to teleport, I was on baby watch.”

I shifted uncomfortably, holding the locket where I kept my memory of mom’s final fight.

Draal nudged my knee with his own, before turning to the others. “Shouldn’t we get back on track? We need to get Vendel’s staff.”

NotEnrique stuck his tongue out at Draal, but otherwise conceded to getting back on topic.

“It’s not like Vendel would just hand it over if we asked nicely,” Toby pouted, “Even if River asked for it.”

Draal hummed, tilting his head in thought. “No, but we don’t need the real Vendel to hand it over.”

I looked at my mate confused. Where exactly was he going with this?

“The Janus Mask, someone other than River could go in disguised as Vendel and take the staff. That way no one knows it’s us, and the Heartstone doesn’t give you away.” He smiled at me, proud of his idea.

Grinning, I kissed his cheek, “That’ll work! Who’s going as Vendel?”

NotEnrique gagged at the display of affection, throwing popcorn at Toby, “Pudgebucket has the most experience with the mask, why not him?”

“First the shattered king, now Vendel?” Toby groaned, not actually saying no. “I guess if I have to.”

Nodding to the boys. We finalized our plans.

“We should still let Blinky and Claire know.” I spoke up, knowing the boys were being overprotective since last night.

“Are you sure, love?” Draal asked, nuzzling my temple.

Smiling, I nodded, calling Claire myself.

“River?” Claire’s groggy voice cut through the line. “My alarm hasn’t even gone off. What’s going on?”

Crap, I forgot how early it was. “Uh, sorry. I forgot you sleep. We came up with a plan to get Vendel’s staff. Thought I’d let you and Blinky know.” I explained quickly.

“Already?!” That seemed to wake her up, already sounding more alert. “What are we doing?”

“Tobes’ is going in with the Janus Mask, as Vendel. Hopefully he’ll be able to get it without trouble. If anything does happen, I’ll need you on hand with the shadow staff to get him out.”

“Why can’t you teleport him?” Claire asked, voice sounding clipped again.

Seriously? Not even time for school and she’s back to being mad? “Really? The giant Heartstone connected to my magic alerting her highness-lady and the tribunal to me? That didn’t cross your mind as an issue?”

Claire seemed to be taking my words in, or ignoring me. It was a 50/50 chance at this point. “I’ll be there, it’s the only way we’ll get Jim back.” Before I could respond, she hung up.

Irritated, I glared at the phone before dialing Blinky’s number, having a phone installed in the library for better access when we couldn’t be in Trollmarket.

“Blinkous speaking,” Blinky picked up right away, the sound of pages turning alerting me to him reading.

“It’s River,” was all I could get out.

“Lady River!” Blink yelped, whatever book he had been holding crashed into something, hopefully it was just the floor. “I would like to formally apologize.” I definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“Uh,” I glanced at the others, this was definitely two very different conversations. “Okay?”

“I realized after you left that the words I used were taken as an insult, and I meant in no way to insult you.” Blinky sighed. “It seems I’ve been doing that more as of late. I do sincerely apologize, Lady River.”

“Blink, I’m fine. You can stop apologizing.” I shook my head, thankful that he realized what he’s been doing and is trying. “I accept your apology, but we need to talk.”

“Of course!” Blinky agreed, waiting for me to elaborate.

“We have a plan, Toby’s going in disguised as Vendel to get the staff. If anything goes wrong, that doesn’t require him being shadow portaled out, I need you to step in. If Claire has to get him out, I need you to cover up that shadow portals are being used. We can’t let anyone know it’s us.”

Blinky hummed, “Of course, I will await Lady Claire’s arrival for the plan.”

“One more thing,” I grinned, remembering how Draal reacted to the question I was about to ask Blinky. “Would you please just call me River?”

“Ah, the title is unnerving?” Blinky laughed, it seems he may have had a similar conversation with Jim. “I will try, L- River.”

“I can live with that.” I grinned. Letting Blinky go, the rest of us got what little sleep we could before school.

Draal had chosen to stay behind, going to Trollmarket to visit the Forge, knowing the time Garridan said his fleshiness would end was approaching, figuring it would be safe to stay out of the sun.

Toby and I rode our bikes to school today. Eemeli had switched out with Eri, letting her rest in Blinky’s library while he kept an eye on Usurna.

“So, any ideas why Claire is acting off?” Toby asked when we dropped Draal off in the canal, heading off to school.

“Not really, she’s been off since we got Killahead back. I thought it was just nerves.” I shrugged, not knowing why Claire’s had an issue with me since. We locked our bikes up, waving to Claire, Mary, and Darci as they walked in together.

Claire barely waved as the other two waved quickly, continuing whatever conversation they were having.

That’s not good. Sighing, I headed straight for art after waving Toby off. Maybe he’d have better luck with her in their first period.

I sat down, uncovering the painting I started working on the day before. Tilting my head as I examined the little green fae-like creature, I turned to the second figure. Something in my gut was telling me to use blues.

Carefully I outlined a creature shadowed by a dark hood, a skull with large horns protruding from the sides adorned the top of their head while I gave them a staff with a large blue crystal at the top that almost looked like a blade.

Before long, I ended up in Trig, sitting in my normal spot next to Claire. Whatever the hell was going on with her left the entire class tense. It felt like one wrong move and everyone’s backs would snap, good thing lunch was next.

As soon as the bell rang, Claire packed her bag and headed for the cafeteria. Before she could make it, I grabbed her arm and teleported us to the roof.

“Are you ready to talk or are you going to be acting like this until Jim’s back?” I asked, done with today, and we haven’t even tried to get Vendel’s staff yet.

“Like what?” She snapped, pausing at her own outburst. “Oh.” She seemed to deflate.

“So, you want to talk, or keep snapping?” I huffed, sitting towards the back of the roof, making sure we were out of sight. Claire seemed to be torn. Whatever was going on seemed to be really messing with her. “Or we can sit in silence, or you can head back down. Your choice.”

Coming to a decision, Claire sat next to me. “I don’t get it.” She huffed.

That couldn’t possibly be the end of that thought. I waited, watching as Claire tried to gather the words she needed.

“You’ve done nothing but blow yourself up, and with a few words from NotEnrique, your magic is on an entirely different level!” She burst out, glossing over a lot of other shit I had to go through, not just a pep talk. “I could feel it when you were helping me open shadow portals! How the hell do you learn like that? Next thing we know, you’re using sleeping spells and shadow fire? Something that, according to Blinky, is impossible.”

“That’s the issue?” I asked, confused on why our differences were what was upsetting her. “Claire, I’ve been using magic longer than you’ve been alive. So, yeah, there’s going to be a lot of differences. That doesn’t mean you won’t be able to do similar things later on.”

“I thought you just started using magic,” She huffed. Ah, time jumps really mess with your perception of age.

“Claire, I’m roughly in my late 30s, maybe early 40s. If I had to guess, I was maybe 6 or 7 years old when I actually started to use magic on purpose, maybe younger.” I explained, “I only look 19 because I began aging like a human when my magic was sealed.”

Claire seemed to ease with that, looking over to me. “You said you forgot I sleep?”

Groaning, I rubbed my temples, “Trust me, even I forget how far apart we are in age and magic.” I looked at her, crossing my legs. “I don’t need to sleep like Jim and Toby do. I’m more like a troll. With gaining magic from an outside source, I THINK,” I interrupted her before she could do the same to me, “you may or may not go through the same changes. I don’t even know if your aging will slow, or if you actually have magic in your blood and it took something to focus it on to awaken it.” I really wish we could speak freely with Vendel right now.

“What about the flames? How can you do something impossible?” She asked, having heard the rest of Blinky’s rant after I had run off last night. “Why don’t you do anything normal?”

I winced at the last question, “Normal for who? I had it pointedly drilled into my skull last night that I’m only half wizard. Whatever their formal teachings are, might not work for me. I started learning based solely on feelings, I still use spells but once I understand how they feel, I don’t have to use incantations.” I explained, trying my best to word it.

“What did you do while we were unconscious?” She finally asked. Well at least there was the root of last night's problem.

“I knew it was a trap the moment the female changeling looked over your shoulder at me. Strickler had the Janus Order hunt me down, did you honestly think they wouldn’t recognize me?” I asked, referring to her charade as Esmeralda. “I let them shackle me because we were surrounded. Once it was just her and Otto, and she threatened me, I knocked her out. Otto kept trying to gain the upper hand, but instead, he found out just how much Changelings supposedly loyal to Gunmar lied or withheld valuable information. He didn’t know why we needed the antidote.”

“And you just told him?” Her hands tightened, knuckles going white.

“I told him we need Arrrgh in order to open the bridge, and if he wanted any chance of getting Gunmar out, then he’d have to give us the antidote.” I shrugged, looking out over the mountains bordering the outskirts or Arcadia. “He couldn’t tell me what the Janus Order wanted, not until Morgana told him.”

“The creepy voice in the music,” She shuddered, not understanding the old tongue, but having caught the whispers.

I nodded, tensing at the memory myself. “The Janus Order sees Gunmar as a means to an end. They need him to free Morgana, why that is, I don’t know.”

“So you stalled him and got more information than we thought we needed?” Claire seemed to realize what I had been doing.

“Yes, and I hope so. I don’t understand it myself, but Morgana created Changelings,” I did not like having another part of my life tied to the malice filled version of the witch. “Which is why Otto now seems to think I’m betraying my people.”

Claire snorted at that, “Yeah, but you’re only half Changeling.” She teased, the tension that had been between us seeming to melt. “Do you think I’ll be able to do more than wave the shadow staff around?”

Nodding, I smiled. “Let’s put it this way, I thought the only thing I was good at was blowing up walls and myself. If you want my help, I’m here. We just have to figure out the best way for you to learn YOUR magic.”

Claire slumped slightly, “I’m sorry for being a butt.” Referring to her own fight with Toby before, “We’re a team, I should be acting like I’m part of it, not comparing abilities.”

Shrugging, I nudged her shoulder with mine. “It’s hard to do sometimes, we’re the only Wizards in Arcadia as far as I know, we just need to keep in mind that we learn from each other. I learned more about my teleporting from you than on my own, and it helped me connect to Jim in the Darklands.”

“Emotional anchors?” She asked, surprised she was the one who helped.

I nodded, clasping her shoulder. “I knew emotion powered magic, but using it to locate someone or something hadn’t crossed my mind. I viewed emotions similar to a battery.”

Claire nodded along with my explanation, seeing how my logic and her’s had differed. “We help each other grow.”

Flicking my hand out, I held the black flames. “Want to try?”

Claire’s eyes gleamed in wonder, reaching her hand over the flames carefully. “It’s cold?” Confusion etched over her face, fingers dancing through the flames.

“From what I can tell, it’s not shadow magic, not like the staff at least.” I turned our hands over, letting the flames rest in her palm. “Whatever upgrades the Triumbric stones gave Jim’s armor, it seems the magic tied itself to me. Think you can manipulate it?”

Eyes focused on the flames now held in her palm. Claire’s fingers began to twitch watching as the dark flames began to produce a purple glow instead of red. “Is that mine?” She asked excitedly.

“I think so,” I grinned, wincing as the warning bell rang. “Ready?” Offering her my hand to teleport us down.

Claire closed her fingers, extinguishing the flames in a similar manner I had the night before, resting her hand in mine. “Ready.”

I pulled us to a bathroom that was usually deserted, sighing in relief that the bell had seemed to have chased off any stragglers. “You going to be okay?”

Nodding, Claire sighed, “If you’re mad at me, I totally get why. I’ve been a real butt.”

I shrugged, ruffling her hair as we exited the bathroom, heading to our last few classes. “It’s a learning curve, we all have them.”

Grinning we parted ways, the day blurring by until we portaled into Blinky’s library after school.

Blinky jumped as we fell from the ceiling, holding his two right hands over his chest. “You’d think I’d get used to that.”

Chuckling, Draal came out of the back rooms, finally back in his troll form. “You three seem in high spirits.”

Grinning, I launched myself over Blinky, shifting into my troll form as I tackled Draal. “You’re not squishy!”

Toby pouted, seemingly disappointed that Draal was back to his normal self. “Does this mean we can’t scare Steve anymore?”

“We could always give him something to really be scared of,” Claire snickered, the idea of unleashing a Trollish Draal amusing to all of us.

“The whelp would crack,” Draal sneered, handing the Janus mask to Toby. “Ready for your next role?”

Toby groaned, putting the mask on and turning into a carbon copy of Vendel, “This sucks,” ‘Vendel’ groaned, waving his arms out, trying to get used to the new proportions.

Releasing my hold on Draal, I grinned turning to Toby, hands on my hips as I watched him adjust. “You remember the plan?”

‘Vendel’ huffed, dragging his hands down his face, “Yes! For the hundredth time. Go in, get the staff, walk out.”

“And?” I snickered, having added one rule after dealing with his slips as Jim.

“Talk the least amount possible.” Grumbling, ‘Vendel’ headed out of the library and directly towards the Heartstone.

Claire and I shadowed him using her portals, making sure the real Vendel couldn’t intercept him before grabbing the staff.

We watched as Toby-Vendel reached the center chamber of the Heartstone, two guards standing by, all he had to do was walk past them calmly, grab the staff, and walk back out.

“Ah, guard person,” Toby-Vendel stumbled slightly as he approached the guards. The trolls stationed there watched him in confusion. “Just returning to pick up a few things and such. Uh, carry on!” He waved them off, heading towards the staff leaning against a stone slab.

Claire sighed, shaking her head at Toby’s antics.

Whispering, I watched as the disaster unfolded, “This is why we have the no talking rule”

“Awesome sauce!” Toby-Vendel cheered, picking up the staff. “I mean, splendid and whatnot.”

The guards watched ‘Vendel’, confused by his behavior.

I pulled Claire back out of sight as the real Vendel came marching in, snarling that the guards had left their post. “What is the meaning of this? An imposter!”

Dumbfounded, the guards looked between both Vendels, utterly at a loss.

“Guards, seize him!” Vendel demanded.

I winced, getting ready to pull Toby out of there. If Vendel found out we were behind this, he might ban us from Trollmarket altogether.

“No, dudes, seize him!” Toby-Vendel argued, “If I’m not the real Vendel, how come I have the, uh, staff thingy?”

Did he honestly think that would work?

I watched in disbelief as the guards tackled the real Vendel, going so far as to pin him down. Toby quickly made his escape, running to where Claire and I were hiding. Before anyone could check, Claire opened a portal under us and we landed back in her bedroom.

Toby groaned, ripping the mask off. “I’m never doing that again!”

“What happened to not talking?” I asked, picking up the staff carefully.

“What? I panicked!” Toby pouted, kicking lightly at my foot closest to him. “When are we meeting Mr. Evil Man?”

“Tonight,” I huffed, sending Otto an email using the one Blinky had originally contacted him with, trying to pose as Strickler. “We’ll be meeting in the canal, south of Trollmarket.”

“I can’t believe those guards body-slammed Vendel,” Claire snickered, trying to lighten the mood. “How mad do you think he is?”

“Hopefully they still have a job, maybe not as guards though,” I sighed, magic thrumming between me and the staff. “That was a little too easy, but I’ll take it.”

We waited out the rest of the afternoon at Claire's place, Blinky calling only to let us know they’d meet us at the exchange spot and that Vendel appeared to be on a warpath.

As night fell, I teleported us to Draal, landing in the opened canal. I felt my skin crawl as we waited for the changelings.

“You alright?” Draal asked, nudging my shoulder as lights could be seen in the distance, slowly growing closer.

I nodded stiffly, eyes locked on the cars pulling up. “I’ll be better once we have the cure.”

“I dearly hope we are doing the right thing,” Blinky sighed, eyeing the Heartstone staff in my grip.

Toby’s face was set in firm determination, “Anything to get Arrrgh back.”

“Looks like the creep patrol is here.” Claire huffed as the cars came to a stop a mere twenty feet away.

“Ready to see how a hand off works?” Toby glared, stepping forward.

“Tobes, even with all your spy-flick knowledge, it might be safer if I handle this.” I spoke up, using the staff to keep him back as Otto got out of the middle car.

Otto walked to the midpoint between us and the cars, eyes never leaving the staff. “I have the antidote,” he pulled out an envelope.

I walked forward, all eyes on me. Reaching out at the same time, Otto’s right hand closed on the staff as mine clasped the envelope. Taking a deep breath, I let go of the staff, pulling the envelope back and reading through the paper.

“This is only the ingredients,” I snarled, my right eye glowing red as I glared at Otto.

“A little insurance, in case you tried your disappearing act again. Boil these in oil until it burns, and that will bring your friend back.” He groaned, fighting with the Goblins who kept locking the car door, finally getting the staff into his car. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“If this doesn't work, you won’t be able to hide,” I snarled, fangs shifting out in warning.

Otto waved my threat off, “I’m under direct order to keep you happy, Sunshine. I’ve given you the antidote and the instructions. The rest is up to you.” As soon as Otto was in his car, all three left.

Claire sighed, the exchange still unnerving all of us. “We did the right thing. Right, guys?”

“Desperate times,” Blinky huffed, glaring at the taillights of the changelings’ cars, “desperate measures. Now we must concern ourselves with some shopping.”

“Won’t find this in a grocery store,” I sighed, handing the list to Blinky. “Any ideas?”

Blinky hummed, fully reading through the list. “Where might we find the tears of one untouched by love’s first kiss?”

We all turned to face Toby. He glanced around at us in disbelief, “What? I’ve been kissed. Many times!”

“Your nana doesn’t count.” Claire argued, causing Toby to deflate on the spot.

We quickly headed back to the Forge. Most of the ingredients were easy enough to get at RotGuts, Blinky and Toby going to procure the items as Claire and I readied the appropriately gothic cauldron.

“Didn’t think I’d be making potions anytime soon,” Claire grinned, excited that she was getting to help more on the magical side of our group. It seemed with everything going on, all she had really been seeking was a mentor.

“They’ll be important to learn, maybe start a grimoire of your own,” I smiled, copying the full antidote, ingredients and instructions, into a blank page of my mother’s grimoire. “Want to try lighting the logs?”

Nodding quickly, Claire sat in front of the cauldron, concentrating. After a few minutes, her brow furrowed in frustration. “I don’t think I understand the 'feeling translating into being' part of how you do YOUR magic.”

I flipped to an early page of the grimoire, sitting the book next to Claire, “Why don’t we try a spell then?”

Looking over the words, Claire hovered her hands over the logs, slowly reciting the spell. After a couple tries, purple flames sparked to life, slowly spreading to warm the cauldron. “I DID IT!” Claire jumped up, bulldozing me over in her excitement.

Laughing, I sat up, careful not to get too close to the flames. “Alright, looks like we can start with written spells and go from there.”

Draal brought Arrrgh’s remains into the Forge, carefully placing him so his face was directly over the cauldron. “Well done, it seems you’ve found your spark youngling.” He smirked, nodding to the purple flames.

“Hurry!” Toby’s voice broke through the Forge, carrying something that looked wet in his hands. “They’re slimy!” He gagged, dropping his items on a little table near Claire and me.

“I believe L-,” Blinky coughed, setting his items near us, “I mean, River, and Claire will have the best chance at brewing the antidote.”

“Already have the enchanted fire going,” I grinned clasping Claire’s shoulder, “Thanks to our newest Wizard in training.”

“Impressive,” Uncle James chimed in, studying the fire, “I’ve never seen someone with purple magic before.” He grinned seeing mom’s grimoire, “Glad you’re getting some use out of that thing. If you stumble on any pictures of your dad, I have all the embarrassing stories to go with them.”

Smiling, I nodded to Uncle James, “Maybe once Jim is home. First things first, swamp maggots.” I picked up the slimy black creatures, carefully adding them to the oil first.

“I hope this works,” Blinky sighed, eyes locked on Arrrgh’s stone face.

Draal sneered, crossing his arms over his chest, “If not, River’s going on a hunting spree. We can sic Eemeli on them as well.” He turned, heading with Uncle James to the Forge entrance, keeping guard as we worked.

Claire opened a milk carton, sniffing to make sure it was sour, gagging as she added the entire thing into the cauldron. “This is disgusting.”

I winced, throwing a live mouse in next, “Don’t think I’ll get used to live ingredients.”

We added various oils, liquids, a dash of pepper, and a gnome skeleton (hat must be included).

Toby groaned and punched himself in the face as he was technically the second to last last ingredient. Seeing as that didn’t work, Blinky stomped as hard as he could on Toby’s foot causing him to cry out in pain. He wiped the resulting tear and added it to the mixture.

Once everything else was in, I added a small condensed stone of my hearthstone magic and slowly stirred the concoction until steam began to rise. All of our attention was on Arrrgh as we each held our breath.

Teal mist exploded from the cauldron, cutting off our sight of Arrrgh.

“It’s working!” Claire yelped as we stepped back from the mist quickly.

Just as fast as it had appeared, the mist receded into the cauldron, and Arrrgh was still a stone statue.

Toby scoffed, going to the cauldron, “I don’t get it. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Claire sighed as they approached Arrrgh, “It didn’t work. The list was bogus!”

“We did everything right!” Toby cried, hugging Arrrgh, “The Trollhunters said we could save him.”

As the other’s turned away, I could feel a pull on my magic. Arrrgh's body began to glow pale blue, as if he was encased in daylight. “Toby!” I yelped, watching as Arrrgh began to move.

As the light dimmed out Arrrgh began to shake himself awake, slowly adjusting to movement again.

“Deya’s grace be upon us,” Blinky gasped out, all of us rushing to Arrrgh.

As Arrrgh opened his eyes, they were glowing a dark purple and he looked angry. He let out a roar, slamming his arm into the cauldron.

I pulled Toby away before Arrrgh could hit him.

Snarling, Draal ran to us, trying to calm Arrrgh only to get hit in the face with a flying cauldron.

Taking off, Arrrgh began to bulldoze over us, slamming into the weapons stand.

“He’s disoriented!” Blinky called out, “Quiet him before he alerts all of Trollmarket.”

Toby tore from grip, running up to the exit as Arrrgh took off after him. Turning around he held his arms up as Arrrgh went to strike. “Whoa, Arrrgh! Easy, easy!” He was trying to get through to him. “It’s me, your wingman!”

A final roar ripped from Arrrgh as his fist slammed into the door above Toby, the purple glow fading as he seemed to shake off the disorientation. “Wingman.”

Toby grinned, cheering as he jumped into Arrrgh’s arms, “He’s back! Oh, I knew he'd be back!”

Helping Draal to his feet, we followed the others over to Arrrgh, relieved that he was no longer tearing through the Forge.

“My friend!” Draal cheered, sharing a side hug with Arrrgh, Toby refusing to let go of the large Troll.

“You’re okay,” I grinned, hand resting over the amulet glowing on Arrrgh’s chest.

Blinky slowly walked up to Arrrgh, on the verge of tears. “I had all but assumed I would never see you again, old friend.” Toby finally moved so Arrrgh could properly hug Blinky.

“How did I?” Arrrgh tried to ask, looking at each of us, “Where’s Jim?” He asked, looking over the Forge for him.

Claire came to Arrrgh’s side, “He, uh, went to the Darklands so that no one else would get hurt.”

Arrrgh let out a whimper, before a determined look settled over his face. “Must get Jim!”

“Oh, yes!” Blinky cheered, “So you do know how to save him. The amulet proclaimed that you are the key to the hunter. So tell us, what must we do?”

Arrrgh looked confused, trying to think. “Umm,” his ears twitched as the Soothscryer activated itself calling Arrrgh by his full name, pulling our collective attention to it.

“I think we have our answer.” I sighed, clasping Arrrgh’s shoulder. “The Trollhunters need your help to save Jim. If you go into the void to speak with them, I’ll be by your side.”

Arrrgh seemed to relax, knowing whatever was about to happen, he wouldn’t be alone this time. We both approached the Soothscryer and Arrrgh settled his right hand into the blinding light.

We entered the void, Arrrgh fully himself, and me in my spirit form, the forge mixing blue and orange as it fed off of my magic.

“Uh?” Arrrgh asked, staying as close to me as he could without going through me. “Hello?” He called out, unsure what to do.

Kanjigar took form in front of us, addressing Arrrgh. “You are the first outsider since time began to see our sacred realm. Welcome, Aarghaumont, to the void between worlds.”

Arrrgh inched behind me at first, slowly registering who the troll was. “Kanjigar, why?”

Kanjigar sighed, nodding to me in greeting. “I know you have many questions.” Placing his hand on Arrrgh's shoulder, Arrrgh’s mana lines began to glow with the magic of the Amulet. “There is a reason you were chosen.” He seeped into Arrrgh’s body, voice still projecting around us. “There is a reason we need you.”

Arrrgh’s eyes began to glow pale blue, the possession of the previous Trollhunter seemed to be a success.

The world tilted and I fell back into my body as the void disappeared.

“Did you meet the spooky troll ghosts?” Toby was asking as I came to, still standing next to Arrrgh.

Claire and Toby gasped, jumping away from Arrrgh as he opened his eyes, revealing the pale blue light.

“He did convene with us.” Kanjigar answered, causing Toby to tumble back further. He stood up straight, Arrrgh’s full height towering well over all of us. “But I am not Aarghaumont.”

Blinky gasped, bowing quickly, “Kanjigar the Courageous.”

“Whaaaa?” Was all Toby could get out, mouth hanging open in shock.

“At ease, Blinkous.” Kanjigar grasped his shoulder, taking the overly dramatic ghost entrance far too seriously. “Yes, it is I.”

Draal slowly approached us, shock etched over his face. “It is you, father.”

Kanjigar smiled, pulling Draal close. “Well met.”

Draal rushed him, hugging Kanjigar tight.

Chucking, Kanjigar happily returned the hug. “My son.”

Once they parted, Blinky seemed to shake his shock off enough to ask questions again. “But how? What has happened to Arrrgh?”

Kanjigar placed his hand over his chest, “Your friend is here with me,” He began to explain, making sure to placate the fears of Arrrgh’s family. “Arrrgh walked the line between life and death, so he alone could become a vessel for me to aid you.”

Toby didn’t seem to be okay with this. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey there, troll-tergeist! Give me my wingman back!”

“At ease, Tobias Domzalski.” Kanjigar approached the teens, “I will only stay until my work is done.”

“But excuse me,” Claire interrupted, raising her hand to speak, “Lord Sir Kanjig-Arrgh,” Wincing at her own fumbling, she glance at me before turning her focus back to Kanjigar, trying to get her question out, “What exactly are you here to do?”

“I thought you knew.” He looked back at me, “Only a Trollhunter can open the Killahead Bridge.”

“There they are!” Guards began to rush into the Forge, Vendel’s disgruntled voice giving them orders.

Draal and Kanjigar exchanged a glance before springing into action. Taking his boulder stance, Draal quickly took off after the farther trolls.

Kanjigar stood tall, “For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command!” The sword appeared, shocking the guards that had closed in on him as well as Vendel.

“Arrrgh? He asked, stern glare tearing towards me. “What dark powers have you meddled with?”

Draal easily took out the guards as the forge began to lift. Claire and Blinky made it off safely as Toby hung on for dear life, as the platforms began to shift, Kanjigar took off, grabbing Toby before he could fall into the gears. “We have little time.” He ordered, ushering us all to the back exit Draal cleared. “This will take us to Bone’s Alley.”

“But father,” Draal tried to question Kanjigar, only to be pulled along by the old troll.

“Come with me, son. We are together at last. River, think you can block them?” He asked quickly, gesturing to the guards slowly getting back on their feet.

Nodding I slammed my hands down onto the rocky ground of the forge, praying to Deya that this would work. Orange magic spread from my chest down my arms and into the earth, as I pulled my hands up harshly, the rock came with it, forming a barricade around the exit we took. “It worked!”

Draal grinned, grabbing me by the Heartstone belt of my armor and pulling me along with them. “Very effective!”

We snuck through the alleyway, watching as Kanjigar broke off to attack to guard trolls from above. Blinky fangirling over the move. “Kanjigar’s creeping spider! A signature move!”

Draal’s grin split his face as Toby and Claire were awed by his father. We rushed into Blinky’s library, Kanjigar grabbing seemingly random items as Chompsky chattered at him.

“Claire Nunez, I require a portal to Killahead Bridge. Quickly” Kanjigar grabbed a few more tomes, and Chompsky.

Claire quickly activated the shadow staff. Focusing on the bridge she opened a large portal.

Kanjigar threw the items he gathered into the portal. “Quick, everyone through!” A crossbow bolt hit the shadow staff sending it into the portal. “Fudge-knuckle!” Claire ground out, all of us turning to stare at the large orange troll holding a crossbow.

“Big mistake,” I snarled, shifting into my troll form, running straight for the troll, horns down, I pumped enough magic into my body in order to send the troll flying into a wall, knocking him out.

Kanjigar smirked, nodding at the quick dispatch of the troll. “We’ll take the gyre.”

Taking off at a full sprint, Draal grabbed Blinky as I picked up the teens, Uncle James shaking off his human form so he could run full speed.

Blinky yelped trying to get Kanjigar to pause. “Kanjigar, why don’t you simply talk with Vendel and the Tribunal?” He asked as Kanjigar got everyone else on the gyre. “Surely, one of Trollmarket’s greatest champions could persuade-”

“Talking requires time, Blinkous,” he cut Blinky off quickly, “something we do not have.” At that, Blinky rushed onto the gyre. “Things are dire.” He began adjusting the controls of the gyre. “If we do not act now, James Lake, Jr. will die.”

“What?!” I snarled, holding tight to the bench as the gyre shot off, faster than even Blinky took it.

“But Killahead’s in the woods. There’s no gyre station there!” Blinky tried to argue, unsure of how we were getting there.

“We don’t need one. River?” Kanjigar asked, looking back at me.

My eyes widened realizing what he was asking, choking at the thought of teleporting us and the gyre to Killahead at this speed.

Claire grabbed my hand, pulling my attention from Kanjigar to her. “It’s only impossible for those who don’t try!”

I nodded, pulling myself up to the front of the gyre. “HOLD ON!” Growling, I focused on encasing the gyre itself with my magic. An orange bubble of pure magic forming around us.

Uncle James grabbed onto Toby and Claire, trying to keep everyone in the gyre. “Keep your heads down!” He ordered the teens, feeling the magic shift around us.

I slammed my hands down on the gyre controls and in a flash of light we were falling out of the sky towards Killahead bridge. Slashing my hand to the left, I summoned a wind tunnel to push us away from the bridge enough that we didn’t crush it, using the same tunnel to slow our descent until we hit the ground with a thud, hardly doing any damage.

Groaning, we all carefully climbed out of the gyre, most of us falling to the ground in relief. “Eemeli better be glad he missed that,” I snarled, looking up as Chompsky was arguing with the bridge pieces.

Kanjigar quickly jumped out of the gyre, “Well done,” He grinned, helping me to my feet so we could focus on the bridge as the others’ grounded themselves.

Blinky freaking out about being fugitives, Draal shrugging it off as Uncle James checked on Toby and Claire, making sure they were still intact.

“Forget what they think. We must concentrate on what we do.” Kanjigar scolded, “We have all that we need.”

“How does this crazy crime spree help us save Jimbo?” Toby asked, trying to keep his stomach inside of his body.

“Friends, I have seen the impossible.” Kanjigar spoke, carefully gathering the items he brought. “A vision of you saving James Lake, Jr. but, to do so, you must follow the path I lay before you.”

Claire regained her shadow staff, grinning up at Kanjigar. “We’ve done the impossible before. We can handle it.”

“I have my war hammer!” Toby cheered, activating his weapon. “It’s hungry to smash.”

“No,” Kanjigar cut them off, shaking his head. “No weapons. In my plan, you will need nothing else but the knowledge and tools I will give you.” He held his hands out for the Shadow staff and war hammer.

“What possible chance do we stand if we are unarmed?” Blinky panicked, trying to reason that they needed weapons.

“Each of you will be charged with a task. You must follow them to the letter if there is any hope of survival. Claire Nunez, take this.” He held out a dark metal crank, “In the Darklands, it will aid you in a key moment.” Turning to Blinky he held out a dark rod with a purple crystal on top, “Blinkous, take this flare crystal. It’s blinding light will save your life.”

“My life?!” Blinky yelped, taking the item quickly. “Could I get some specificity on that statement?”

Kanjigar turned to Toby. “Tobias Domzalski. You must ensure that your team only brings back James Lake, Jr. No one else.”

I went stiff at that, Draal glancing at me quickly. We had promised to bring Nomura along as well. There was no way I was going to leave her trapped in the Darklands.

“James Lake Sr.,” Finally, Kanjigar turned to uncle James, “You will be in charge of protecting the younglings as they make their way through the Darklands.”

Uncle James kept close to Claire and Toby, adjusting the claymore on his back, and it seems Kanjigar wasn’t going to take his sword for this trip.

“Father,” Draal interrupted, seeing the gears in my mind going, “What is my task?”

Kanjigar sighed, grasping Draal’s shoulder, “I know you wish to go into battle, but I need you here. Of all of you, your responsibility is greatest. You keep watch so that Gunmar does not escape.” Kanjigar turned to look at me. “You must protect Merlin’s heir. If your friends do not come back, you must make a choice.”

Draal sighed, “I understand.”

Kanjigar pulled him forward slightly, pressing their brows together.

“Wait, we don’t even know our way around the Darklands!” Claire piped up, knowing this was happening now.

Kanjigar grinned, looking over to Chompsky. “But your gnome friend does. He will be your guide. Jim’s time is short. I sense Gunmar readying to destroy him.”

Toby began trying to convince Chompsky to help us, apparently upgrades for his doll girlfriend were the best bargaining chips.

“Merlin’s heir, River.” Kanjigar turned to me, pulling me away from the others. “I know of your oath to the Changeling, do you believe her worth saving?”

I nodded quickly, “I do.”

Kanjigar held his hand out to me, palm up, “Your weapon.”

Glaring, I rested my hand on Midnight, “Is this your way of trying to keep me here?”

Kanjigar shook his head, waiting. Slowly, I pulled Midnight from my belt, setting it in his hand. Carefully he pulled the amulet from his chest, the glow of Eclipse returning to it. Holding the amulet over Midnight, the red glow engulfed the blue veining of my lance, morphing the magic laced within. “If Gunmar should find you, it would do well to have a weapon that can injure him, should you tire from using magic.” He placed Midnight back in my hands, keeping his voice low while the others were dealing with Chompsky. “I cannot keep you from interfering, should you choose to enter in your spirit form, Gunmar’s blade will not harm you.”

My grip tightened on Midnight, looking up at Kanjigar confused, “You’re not going to stop me?”

Kanjigar shook his head, “Your word is the stone with which you etch honor, to keep it, you would tear the realm apart.” He held a hand up to stop me before I could interrupt him. “Draal must stay behind for you to enter the Darklands, if the threat of Gunmar is near, he will need to move your body.”

“You planned on me going in,” I realized, “but, you said we could only bring Jim back.”

Shaking his head, Kanjigar looked to the teens, “I said Tobias’ team could only bring Jim back, you won’t be with them, not initially. Your spirit will help those trapped to escape.”

Nodding, I walked with him to the middle of the bridge pieces. “Understood, ready?”

Kanjigar held the amulet out, summoning the pieces of the bridge to rebuild themselves. Once fully built, he climbed to the top of the bridge.

“What is the plan, Kanjigar?” Blinky asked, not liking that we were about to enter the Darklands with little to no instructions. “I have naught but a flare and more questions than answers.”

“I cannot reveal more,” Kanjigar sighed, trying to quell Blinky’s frustration, “for to know your future is to risk dooming it. Trust in yourselves and me, and all will be clear soon enough.”

“Don’t worry!” Toby grinned, “With super Trollhunter Kanjig-Arrrgh by our side, two for one, boom!” He punched the air, excited at the prospect of seeing Kanjigar in action. “We can’t lose!”

Kanjigar carefully held the rope meant for Arrrgh, getting ready to open the bridge. “I’m afraid I will not be joining you in the Darklands. After I open the bridge, I must use the last of my power here to keep it open.”

“Can’t River keep it open?” Claire asked, “She’s helped power the bridge before.”

“Merlin’s heir has a vital role to play, while her spirit is away, she will not be able to power the bridge.” Kanjigar nodded to me. “Besides, you will need Arrrgh, not I. He will make his own way.”

“Oh, dear,” Blinky sighed, “Is that another one of your riddles?” He asked, waving the crystal flare at Kanjigar.

Kanjigar held the amulet out, “One revolution of the amulet’s arm is all the time I can grant you before the bridge closes! Best of luck, Trollhunters!” He called out, acknowledging each of us as a Trollhunter. He slammed the amulet into its place on Killahead bridge, effectively opening the portal to the Darklands. Kanjigar’s spirit was pulled from Arrrgh’s body, allowing the large green Troll to join the others.

“Save Jim.” Arrrgh nodded, understanding what he must do.

“Remember what you must do, my son!” Kanjigar called to Draal, with a final nod from him, Kanjigar’s spirit smiled as he was absorbed into the amulet.

“This whole thing is nuts,” Claire gripped the crank she was given. “Are we really doing this?”

“If we don’t, Jim dies.” I huffed, sitting next to the gyre, keeping an activated Midnight on my lap. “I’m going straight for Jim, I’ll see you on the other side.”

“River,” Draal grabbed my shoulder quickly. “I will only move you if you are needed here.” There was a glint in his eye as he looked past me to the mechanical vehicle of doom behind me.

Grinning, I nodded, slowly closing my eyes, I let myself fall from my body, heading straight for Jim and Nomura.

As my spirit form floated above Jim I could see Chompsky handing him a rock.

“Oh, thank you.” Jim paused before tossing the rock our little gnome friend handed over. Glancing to his left, he let out a squawk falling back from the gnome. “Chompsky?!”

“He moves fast,” I grinned, floating down next to Jim.

Jim snapped his head to me, as Chompsky waved and took off to get the others. “River?! What’s going on?”

“We’re on the move, Chompsky’s getting the other’s,” Looking over to the second cell, I realized Nomura was missing. “Where is she?”

Jim shook his head, trying to reign in his shock, “They just took her to see Gunmar, won’t be long till-” Footsteps cut him off, then the sounds of Toby and Claire. “Up here!” Jim called out, excitement taking over.

“Jimbo?” Toby called out as Chompsky returned with our friends, Uncle James close behind in his troll form. “Oh, my gosh, Jimbo! You’re not dead!” Toby cheered, rushing to the orange crystal spikes keeping Jim locked up. Reaching through, Toby hugged Jim as best as he could.

“It’s you!” Jim cheered, hugging him tight, “It’s you, Tobes!”

After a moment, Toby pulled away so Claire could see Jim. I floated over to uncle James nudging him towards the cell. Cutting off Claire and Toby’s recount of how we got here. “Guys, we need to hurry, we can tell Jim everything once we’re topside.”

Jim nodded, “Right, Tobes, hurry up and use your war hammer to bust me out of here.”

I face palmed, “That’s gonna be an issue,” Jim looked at me and uncle James confused, not recognizing his father in troll form. “No war hammer, no shadow staff, will your claymore work?” I asked, turning to my uncle.

Nodding, he unsheathed his claymore from his back, once Jim took a few steps back, he slashed down against the crystal spikes with all his strength, only they stopped his sword dead in its tracks. “Son, it doesn't look like conventional weapons will work.”

Jim’s mouth dropped open, hearing his father’s voice coming from the troll, “Dad?! You’re here?”

“Like hell I was leaving you in Darklands, Garry sent word about you ‘jumping ship’ on your own.” He scolded lightly, sheathing his sword.

“Wait a minute!” Claire grinned, pulling the crank Kanjigar gave her from Toby’s backpack. “Kanjigar said I need this thing for a key moment. This is a key!” Rushing to a circle opening next to Jim's cell, she inserted the key, unfortunately it seems she didn’t have the strength to turn it as Chompsky came chattering back.

“Guards,” Uncle James snarled, turning to face the path they were coming from.

“Hide!” Jim instructed. “Now!”

I pushed Uncle James to follow Claire and Toby, we accidentally ended up in another cell as the guards came to get Jim. “Keep him quiet,” I instructed Claire and Uncle James, Toby’s nervous murmuring a dead give away to our presence.

“Your time has come at last, flesh bag.” A troll that looked oddly similar to Blinky spoke. He was leading a group of Gumm-Gumm guards to Jim’s cell. They quickly dragged Jim out, heading out of the cells.

Turning back to the trapped group, I looked over each of them as panic set in over their faces. “Chompsky, get the key, I don’t think it was for Jim’s cell. Uncle James,” The gnome saluted, heading out to the key once the guards cleared out. “Uncle James, I’ll follow Jim.” Grabbing his hand, I placed my left hand over his, concentrating on condensing my mana into a stone. “Use this to find us. Your priority is Jim.”

“What about you?” Claire asked, wondering what Kanjigar saw as my role.

“I’m here as a diversion, and for someone else.” I nodded, knowing it was better to be up front at this point.

Toby groaned, “You’re talking about the evil scary lady, aren’t you?” He asked, referring to Nomura.

“She’s been keeping Gunmar’s attention off of Jim while he’s been here, I promised her a way out,” Floating out of the cell as Chompsky returned with the key, I followed after the guards quickly, staying well above their heads and out of sight.

A soldier stopped the Blinky look alike, whispering to him.

“Take the hunter to the Crucible. I will be there shortly.” He ordered, heading off down another path.

The guards continued on their way. Once they reached a large opening, they threw Jim forward.

I flashed to the other side of the room, keeping as far above the trolls as possible, not wanting them to see me yet.

“If beasts won’t break you,” a menacing voice filled the room, “perhaps your friend will.”

Gunmar. I glanced around the pillar I had hid behind, only to see that it was actually a section of Gunmar’s throne.

“Know thyself, and know thy enemy.” Gunmar sneered as a large set of doors opened.

Nomura walked out, ears falling flat as she saw her next opponent was Jim.

“Not you,” Jim winced, “no.”

“A battle to the death!” Gunmar ordered the soldiers near cheering for what was to be a horrific fight.

Jim summoned the Eclipse blade, taking a defensive stance as he watched Nomura.

How the hell was I supposed to get them both out of here?

“A battle to break your will!” Gunmar sneered, glaring over the changeling and Trollhunter. “If the impure cannot break your armor, her death surely will. You shall be mine.”

I watched from behind as Nomura pulled her twin blades from her back, snarling at Jim.

He glanced up to where I was floating, trading his blade in for the shield, whispering to Nomura.

“You don’t,” Nomura snarled, readying her blades, “I do. Sorry, I really was getting to like you.” She charged forward blades ready to slice through Jim.

He quickly brought up his shield, trying to hold off her attacks. Trying to reason with her.

She planted a kick directly into his shield, knocking him further from Gunmar’s throne.

“Home is gone!” Nomura screeched, whatever Jim had said was getting under her skin. She doubled her efforts, putting all her strength in each slash, forcing Jim to switch from the shield to his sword.

She tossed Jim across the arena, the glow where his amulet should reside slowly began fluctuating.

“His will, it’s weakening!” Gunmar's voice broke through my thoughts. “You’re holding back.” He jeered, trying to get a rise out of Jim. “Kill the changeling! This will not end until you take her life.”

Jim used his sword to pull Nomura’s blades from her grip, throwing them out of reach. Once she was unarmed he took off running, trying to prolong their lives. Giving chase, Nomura easily caught up to Jim, throwing him into the face of a giant statue.

Once the rubble cleared, I could see him using the shield as a board, sliding down the arena walls as Nomura retrieved her blades. Sliding under her before she could react, Jim used her hair to pull her back, the Eclipse blade resting against her neck.

“Will you listen to me? There’s a way out.” He tried to explain as she struggled against the blade. “Claire and Toby, the others, they’re here to save us.”

“You cry for your friends, but there is no rescue.” She sneered.

This wasn’t looking good, if the others didn’t make it soon, we’d be down a changeling and a Trollhunter. Looks like it was time for that diversion.

I flashed down onto the arena floor, the presence of my magic strengthening Jim’s armor as I turned my back to them, choosing to face Gunmar.

“Little Isolde?” Nomura was the first to recover from my entrance.

Extending my hand, a rush of Eclipse flames burst to life around us, keeping a division between us and the Gumm-Gumms for now. “I told you I was getting you out. I meant it.” I snarled, eye focused on Gunmar.

“What is this?!” Gunmar roared, standing from his throne. “Who are you, witch?”

“No one dies today.” Jim whispered to Nomura, “We’re all going home.”

I grinned viciously, as Gunmar watched my magic breathe power into Jim’s armor. “I’m River, daughter of General Garridan and Lady Ganieda.” Gunmar’s eye widened, realizing exactly who broke into their fight. “I am Merlin’s heir!” A pale blue glow overtook my injured left eye as I poured daylight into my fist. Pulling it back, I slammed it directly into the ground, forcing the magic out through fissures and cracks, burning the soldiers trying to close in on us.

Toby and Claire’s screams came from behind as they tumbled out of a chute, landing in the arena with us. Uncle James was able to slide out onto his feet, pulling his claymore from his back as he spied Gunmar.

“You’re not crazy,” Nomura scoffed, seeing the humans and changeling.

Claire recovered first, “Jim!”

“Not just Jim!” Toby yelped, scrambling to his feet.

“Humans? Here? An Eclipse guard?” Gunmar snarled, “The bridge is open! Catch them!” He ordered.

More mindless guards began to walk directly into the Eclipse flames, more from behind using the dead to climb over them.

“This way,” Nomura hissed, pulling Jim back and leading the others. “Keep them back!”

Nodding, I rested my hands on the dark stone, using the same method I had in the Forge, I pulled the stone up to create another barrier, hoping to give them a little more time.

I quickly followed after them, feeling Jim’s armor pull me along. Seeing that they were stopped at a gate.

“And lead him to the bridge?” Toby asked, “We’re not that crazy!”

Spotting me, Nomura grinned, nodding towards the ceiling and throwing one of her blades. I caught it quickly, having to concentrate on holding something solid in this form. Her second blade flew by and hit the locking mechanism for a Stalkling cage, turning to the other side of the arena, I spotted a second cage.

I threw the blade as hard as I could and hit the mechanism, both Stalklings flew down into the crowd of soldiers, and began to tear their forces apart.

“There’s a keyhole!” Toby cried out, pulling Claire to the lock.

“It’s a crank!” Claire grinned, pulling out the item Kanjigar gave her.

As she tried to open the gate, Gunmar stepped into the fight, easily dealing with the Stalklings.

Uncle James rushed over, helping her use the key. “Time to go!”

The others ran out as I floated along with them, holding onto Jim’s shoulder.

“Kanjigar said you were supposed to be alone,” Toby yelped as we ran, trying to put distance between us and the Gumm-Gumm king.

“I’m here for Nomura, you’re here for Jim,” I snarled, letting go of Jim’s shoulder and channeling magic into the path behind us. “Keep going!” I pulled as hard as I could, the rocky path closing in on itself, sealing off the way we came. “That won’t hold them forever.”

We slid down into another tunnel, clearing through chains hanging from the ceiling. Nomura stopped abruptly, the chasm from here to the next path too wide for anyone to jump.

“We can look for another way around,” Jim tried to turn back.

Nomura grabbed his shoulder, “No time.” Jumping up onto one of the spikes, she used her blade to hold her as she reached for one of the chains, slicing through it, she brought it back for the others. “Youth before beauty.” She grinned, handing the chain to Jim.

Jim pulled it back to Claire, helping her hold on. “You ready?”

As she gave her nod, they took off running. They were able to touch down on the other side, stumbling back as they hit the ground. Once secured, Jim passed the chain back over.

Nomura secured the chain around Toby. “Thank you, Ms. Nomura,” Toby yelped, terrified that she was helping him.

“I never liked you.” She spoke bluntly and pushed him over the chasm.

Toby screamed, until Jim and Claire caught him. Once they let him down, they sent the chain back, Uncle James easily grabbed it, swinging across and landing with a heavy thud. “Everyone in one piece still?”

“Barely,” Toby whined, inching further from the ledge.

“Little one,” Nomura turned to me, holding the chain. “You kept your word.”

Smiling, I nodded, “Kanjigar gave them orders to get Jim. I’m here to make sure you make it out alive.”

Nodding, she glanced past me to the horde of soldiers heading for us. “Time to go!” Swinging across, she sliced through the chain so that the soldier couldn’t use it, roughly landing by the teens.

“Thanks, Ms. Nomura,” Toby yelped, glad she was on our side as the soldiers piled up on the path behind us.

Nomura shoved his head down, “I still don’t like you.”

I floated over snickering as Toby righted himself. “Come on, we don’t have much time left!”

The teens continued to run as I felt myself shift. “Time to go,” I grunted, nodding to Jim. “I’ll see you soon!” My eyes snapped open to Draal shaking my shoulder. “What’s the plan?”

Grinning Draal helped me to my feet. “They’re almost out of time, we need a fast way to get everyone out.” He looked pointedly over my head. “Think you can start it up?”

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, alluding to the instructions Kanjigar left him.

His grin turned to a soft smile, resting his brow against mine. “This is my choice.”

Turning to face the gyre, a grin split my face. “Then let’s find out.”

Draal pulled the gyre upright so we could access the console. I hopped up onto the platform, looking over the machine controls. Placing my hands on the console, I began to pour magic directly into the gyre.

Orange sparks of electricity started to run from the console over the rings. The inner rings slowly began to rotate. At the sight, I channeled more mana into the machine, the rings quickly speeding up and the outer rings slowly joining them until we were moving towards the bridge.

Draal clipped Midnight to my belt, holding his axe tight as we entered into the Darklands. “Let’s find our friends!”

Nodding, I focused on Jim and our bond. I felt a ripple in my magic, “There!” I grinned, starting to understand why Blinky drove the way he did as I forced my magic into the gyre, trying to get it to run as fast as possible.

We found them, blocked by a horde of Gumm-Gumm soldiers, “INCOMING!” Draal howled, laughing as we flattened them. Coming to a quick stop in front of our friends.

“What are you doing here?” Blinky barked, shocked to see Draal and I.

“My father said I had a choice, but I had to protect Merlin’s heir.” Draal grinned. “This is my choice. Get in!”

“River!” Jim yelled, “Nomura needs help!”

My eyes widened as I realized she wasn’t with the group. “Draal, get going, we’ll catch up!”

Nodding to me, he took over the controls. “You heard the lady! Gyre, now!”

I ran past the group and jumped off the ledge seeing Nomura was injured and fighting on her own. “My turn!” Snarling, I pulled Midnight from my belt, activating it and my armor, I sliced through a soldier about to cleave Nomura.

“What are you doing here?!” She hissed, shocked at seeing me in the flesh this time.

Grinning, I slashed out with Midnight, sending a wave of Eclipse flames towards the soldiers. “I told you, you’re coming home, even if I have to pull you out myself!” Turning quickly, I grabbed her and teleported to Draal, barely landing on the gyre as we shot out of the bridge and back into the forest of Arcadia Oaks.

The gyre came to a rough stop as it lodged into the boulders near the bridge. Jim crawled out of the vehicle, flopping onto the grass, taking in the forest.

Uncle James joined him, returning to his human form. “You can kill me later, for now,” held Jim’s hand tight, relieved that he was safe again. “I’m just glad you’re alive.” Oddly enough, Jim allowed it, taking his father’s return in stride after everything we faced today.

Nomura looked up from where we crashed into the gyre, taking in the forest around us. Draal helped her and I out of the gyre, getting Nomura to a smaller boulder so she could rest while I tended to her injured leg.

Wrapping the ankle carefully, I nodded up to her. “Good news is, you should be okay to walk on it. Bad news, you’ll have to take it easy, I couldn’t fully heal it.”

Letting out a tired laugh, Nomura shook her head, “You’ve grown little Isolde.”

Blinky and Toby were the last in the gyre, holding each other tight, shaking like leaves. “I know one thing for certain.” Blinky's voice called out, shaking as much as he was. “I hope to never see the likes of that Bridge ever again.”

Arrrgh slowly walked to the Bridge, punching through what remained of it.

“Awesome sauce!” Toby cheered, Arrrgh pulling him out of his shock, running to the large green troll.

Jim got up and followed after Toby, running directly into Arrrgh’s chest, hugging him tight.

Claire and Blinky joined them, celebrating that Jim was home and Arrrgh was alive.

“It’s so, so good to see you guys!” Jim turned to Nomura, grinning. “You want in?”

Smiling, she shook her head, “That’s not my thing. Thank you, little Gynt.” She patted a clawed hand over my head. “I have to hand it to you, you were right.”

“About what?” Jim asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Hope,” She smiled, “Friends.”

Blinky retrieved the amulet from the remains of Killahead Bridge, presenting it to Jim. “I believe this belongs to you, Master Jim.”

Once returned, the amulet began to glow, attaching itself to the armor. Once reunited, the eclipse armor morphed back into daylight. “Feels good to have this back.” Carefully, Jim climbed up the nearby boulder and took in the forest around us, eyes having to adjust to the light of the sunset again.

Claire met him, hugging him tight. “I missed you.”

After everything Jim went through in the Darklands, it seems girls were no longer as terrifying as they seemed, and he finally had the courage to kiss her.

Arrrgh chuckled, covering Toby’s and his own eyes, peeking through his fingers.

Uncle James sighed, shaking his head with a smile. “About time from what I've heard.”

Nomura gagged, nose wrinkling at the sight, “Disgusting custom.”

I burst out laughing as Draal decided to smoosh his face against my cheek.

“Let’s get rid of this Bridge once and for all.” Blinky cut through.

“Ha!” Toby laughed, “Just wait until Trollmarket gets a load of Jim and Arrrgh!” He let out a gasp, face falling immediately. “Oh, no! The Tribunal! They’re gonna go crazy town banana pants when they find out what we’ve been up to!”

I groaned, realizing I now had to be a part of that, “I swear, I’m going to bash her highness-lady’s face in.”

Blinky chuckled, throwing a piece of the bridge, “Frankly, who cares? We have our Trollhunter back.”

“For now, I say we stick to our houses,” I rubbed my temples, getting us back on track. “First order of business is a shower.” I snickered at Jim.

“Nope,” He grinned, jumping down from the boulder. “This is first,” he hugged me tight, arms shaking from how exhausted he was. “Thank you.”

Smiling softly, I hugged him close, my hand holding the back of his head. “You ever pull a stunt like that again, and I’ll tear you to pieces myself, got it?” I asked, trying to hide the tears, relieved that I was able to do more than speak with him in my spirit form.

“Noted,” He chuckled, slowly releasing me from the hug, tears sliding down his face as well.

“Come on Jimbo, you can get cleaned up at my house, don’t want Dr. L smelling you," Toby snickered.”

Jim laughed, nodding to Tobes before turning to his dad. “Are you staying?”

Uncle James smiled, “For now, I’ll have to return to the Eclipse Guard, but we will have time to talk. You need to see your mother.”

We all made our way back to Toby’s house, sticking to the shadows so we could stay together.

I helped Nomura walk, keeping her steady as we snuck in through the back door. “After Jim gets to see mom, you can rest in my room.”

“Thank you,” She acknowledged as I helped her sit on the sofa. All of us were glad Nana was out for Bingo night and we didn’t have to hide.

Jim ran upstairs to shower, Blinky deciding to stay with Arrrgh and Toby for the night.

Claire sat next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder. “He’s home.”

Nodding, I held my hand out to her. “He is.”

She placed her hand in mine and we all fell into a comfortable silence, exhausted and happy that we were able to save Arrrgh, and bring Jim home.

We let Jim head over on his own once he was cleaned up. He needed this time with mom, and we were happy to watch from Nana’s blinds as he finally stepped into his home for the first time in weeks.

“Do you think he will be alright?” Draal asked, watching as Jim fell into aunt Barbara’s hug.

Uncle James nodded, “He’ll need some time to recover. During that time, we should prepare for the Tribunal.”

#draal x oc #trollhunters fanfiction #river of arcadia #roa #Chapter 37 #kanjigaaarrrgghh!!!#homecoming #phase 3 #draal x river #River Marie Wyllt

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