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vendettaparker · 3 years

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Talking to the Moon [P.P]

Summary: When Peter’s identity is leaked, he is forced to leave you and his old life behind, shattering your heart in the process.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: ANGST, like straight up rip your heart out. Far From Home spoiler (kinda), Endgame spoiler (kinda)

a/n: so if you couldn’t tell this is based off of the song ‘Talking to the Moon’ by Bruno Mars. its a loose interpretation. i’ve been planning an angsty fic like this for a while. angst is my favorite genre of fic, especially when it has a hopeful or fluffy ending. so this one DOES have a hopeful ending and potential for a sequel,, so yuh, enjoy! <3

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Three years, two months, and 14 days. That’s how long it had been since Peter’s identity was leaked. That’s how long it had been since he left you. For good.

Peter had been frantic after that news broadcast aired. He webbed back to the compound immediately, crying the whole way. He was scared for himself, sure, but the fear he felt in the pit of his stomach for May, Ned, MJ, you. That was the reason for his tears now. He could hardly breathe by the time he made it to the compound. Happy, Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky meeting him as he burst through the large floor to wall windows in the main room. The frantic yelling, pleas, and cries coming from the main room were what alerted you to his presence. When you walked in he was a mess. Crying, heaving with anxiety about how scared he was. Peter had always been a sensitive, emotional boy, but he always got over his shit eventually. But this? This, seemed like the end for him.

You ran up to him, shushing him and holding him. Trying to tell him to simply “breathe”. All he could say, over and over again like a mantra was a schloo of “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your heart broke. How could fate be so cruel to the sweetest boy? The one who was the most deserving of all the happiness life could possibly offer. The rest of the team had shown up within the next hour. Happy, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, and Pepper also present. Peter had calmed down slightly, but he knew, he just knew, this was the day he had to say goodbye. He had had this talk with Mr. Stark back when he had stopped his first villain, Vulture. Tony knew the type of sick monsters out there who would love to get their hands on the boy behind the Spider-man mask. He and Peter had developed a plan in the tragic case that Peter’s identity should be released, at least, not on his own terms. Tony’s plan was for Peter to run away. Leave. Take nothing with him but the clothes on his back, and even then burn those clothes the minute he could. Tony knew. He knew these dangers. And worse, he knew the consequences.

May had come to the compound the second she got the call. She knew as well. Peter knew. She knew. Tony, even in his grave, knew. Everyone knew. Everyone but you.

Peter had a getaway car and a destination ready within another hour. He wouldn’t disclose it to anyone. He took you aside, gently stroking your cheek to wipe the hot tears that never seemed to cease. “Hey, hey, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.” He whispered, choking up on every other word, trying to be stronger, just a little stronger, for you. “I have to go now. I’m so so sorry. I love you so much.”

“It’s okay Peter,” You sniffled, pushing his bangs back and giving him a sad smile. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll be here when you get back. Don’t worry.”

Peter’s lips quivered and he heaved another sob. “No, (Y/N). I-I’m not coming back.” You took your hand back as you felt the pressure of tears building behind your eyes.

“W-what? No, this—it’s just temporary. Until we can—Fury and Pepper—We can fix this.” You stuttered anxiously, hoping your words would convince him that this was okay. That everything would be okay.

“We can’t, (Y/N). It’s done.” Peter spoke, his voice hardly making it to a whisper.

“No!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to hold him closer. “Please. Please. Please. I-I can’t! You can’t! I—You’re all I have!” You were sobbing uncontrollably now. The weight of the situation finally caving in and crushing your heart and soul. “Please! I’ll do anything, I’ll protect you! Please!”

Your meltdown didn’t help Peter one bit, if anything, seeing how desperate you were to keep hold of him, to just love him; that broke him more. “I’m sorry, please forgive me. Please.”

“How can I? You’re killing me.” You whimpered into his chest, tears soaking through his black sweatshirt. “I can’t— I just— I can’t!”

The whole team heard. No walls were thick enough to block out the heartbroken sobs from the two teenagers in love. Fury was the one to finally bring an end to it. Nobody else having the heart to pry you from each other. Even Fury felt his own stoic exterior cracking.

You were in hysterics, clawing, and grabbing at Peter’s sweatshirt, hair, face, anything you could grab. It didn’t matter if you hurt him at this point, he’d heal. But if he left you, you knew you’d never recover. Fury had put you in a chokehold while yanking you back. Peter just heaved and heaved, his sobs getting louder and his chest getting tighter. May rushed over to him and took his hand, placing his head in her chest.

Fury yanked you back more, but you still refused to quit. Fury released his chokehold, not wanting to do any real damage to you. Right as you were released, Wanda came up behind you and placed her hands on your head, red magic already starting to swirl.

“No, please.” You wheezed, trying to get a fresh breath of air. “He’s all I have.”

Wanda looked at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.”

Without so much as a flick of her wrist, you were out, descending into darkness.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter left after that. The car taking him away, and you hadn’t seen him since. As the months went on you never really recovered. Never really felt whole again. You just survived. That was all. You went through the motions of everyday life, but never truly felt like you were living. Two weeks after Peter left, May left with Happy. They moved to California, living there ever since as well. They got married last year. You were all invited and everyone went. Everyone but you. You missed May and Happy, but it still hurt. Plus, you were busy anyway. After you graduated high school, you flung yourself into the avenger lifestyle, fully immersing yourself in it. You went on every mission possible. Did all the paperwork you could. You did anything and everything you could to keep yourself busy. Stop yourself from feeling the pain that had stopped feeling like a searing stab and had now turned into a dull ache. A new constant in your life.

Nights were the worst though. The only time you couldn’t be constantly avenging or working yourself to the bone on new suit technology. The only time you had to think and feel. The only thing keeping you going was the hope that Peter was still out there. Somewhere, anywhere, missing you as much as you were missing him. Watching the same moon you watched. Basking in the same sun that shined on you every day. Every horrible, miserable day.

“(Y/N)?” the quiet, soft voice of Pepper breaking you out of your headspace. You hummed a response and looked up at her, waiting for her to continue. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No, sorry.” You responded sheepishly. Pepper’s gaze softened. She took in your lean figure and pale face, eyes seeming to be sunken in from the dark circles. “I was just finishing up this briefing of my last mission.”

“You went alone?” Pepper asked, concern washing over her features.

“It was a simple one. Just took out a mob, was done in like, four hours.”

Pepper sighed. “(Y/N)—”

“Pep, it’s fine. It was so easy, anyone could have done it.” You cut her off, turning back to your laptop, typing away.

“It’s not just that though. It’s all of this. This whole funk you’re in. The same one you’ve been in for years, (Y/N).” Pepper waved her hands around to emphasize her point. “We all see it. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. He wouldn’t want this.”

Your whole demeanor changed. The solemn, yet calm veneer breaking. “It doesn’t matter what he wants, Pepper! I didn’t want this. All I wanted was him. For the rest of my life. Nothing else would matter, as long as I had him to get me through it. But I don’t have him. I have nothing. He was it for me. He—” You sobbed, tears finally running down your face in an uncontrollable waterfall. “I feel like I died. Like I am just a spectator, no longer doing anything of interest to myself.”

Pepper pulled you into her so fast. She was always quick to console you. The months after Peter left she was the only one you could stomach seeing. “It’s okay. I know, shh, I know.” Pepper was tearing up now too. She knew you never got over it. But now seeing with her own eyes how broken you’d really become. The reality hurt. “He’s out there, okay? And it’s going to be okay. He’s okay. We’re okay.”

You just cried. That’s all you could do. The more you tried to talk about it the stronger the urge to cry was. Pepper just hummed and held you. Stroking your hair until you fell asleep.

When you woke up you were in your room. It was dark and the moon was shining through the opened window. You just stared at it, closing your eyes and imagining Peter was staring at it too. The same one. Thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Another few weeks went by. The same routine, the same empty feeling consistent in your body. Nothing changed. The revelation that you were, in fact, not okay didn’t fix anything. It still hurt. You were still broken.

You were in the training room, sparring with Wanda when the melodic tune of your ringtone rang through the gym, echoing off the walls. You put your hands up in defense to stop Wanda from continuing the match. Wanda whipped her hands around and brought your phone to you in a wisp of red magic.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, wiping your sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand and taking the phone from the air. Wanda nodded and jumped out of the ring to grab her water bottle.

You looked at your phone still ringing, seeing an unfamiliar number, but taking in the location: Budapest, Hungary. You answered the call bringing the phone up to your ear “Hello?” You asked, shifting from one foot to the other waiting for a reply. A beat of silence pasted before you heard a tired, yet all too familiar voice on the other end.

“(Y/N)?”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker angst #marvel #far from home #avengers endgame #endgame #Tom Holland #song inspired #this made me emotional #i cried way harder than i shouldve #sad songs #avengers

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hacked-by-jake · 3 years

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ok so

I just finished playing episode 8 and

>spoiler alert<

now more than ever

I'm really REALLY sure the mwaf knows mc

I mean

why is important to him to make sure we watch every one of our friends die? I think it's bc we meant something, as Jake would say, we are the key, I just can't get out of my head that mwaf stalks mc, for some reason this is stuck in my mind lmao

AND something I imagine but I'm sure it will not happen (but would be really cool for the plot) would be mc getting marked

like I know it will not happen bc technically it's not really convencional since you know we are mc and everything

BUT IT WOULD BE SO COOL IF IT HAPPENS

I mean mwaf did threatens to come after us

but we don't live in duskwood

and we're not going to go to duskwood

so if he does come to us, he would have to come to our house

which implies that he know or at least knows how to find where we live

I bet he's a stalker but anyway

I just think it would be a really cool thing if we get marked

it would be the trigger to make Jake show himself to us

also, WHY THE FUCK DID THOMAS AND JESSY SEPARATE IN THE HOUSE

RULE NUMBER 1 OF HORROR MOVIES, NEVER BE ALONE

LIKE COME ON GUYS, BE SMART

I was the whole call repeating "you're gonna die, RUN"

at least they didn't die lol

Spoiler ep 8!

You’re right, always stay positive, this time nobody died. Praise the Lord. 😂🥳

But yes, with the rest I agree with you too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be as mad as he is, he’s worried that something might come out that only MC knows (I think)

I would also find it incredibly cool if we were marked.

We can’t be personally marked, but he could do it in Duskwood. Maybe so that everyone can see it to show that something very bad is going to happen, or he could send us a picture or something. Although the call was something like a marker.

I don’t think Jake will show himself to us (at least not personally, logically, but don’t think that way in general)

But he would definitely be so worried and that would be so sweet. And it would drive all the thrill of the game even higher. We would be marked and then have to wait and watch until one by one dies.

And why they went into this house I do not know either! I would have been against it but unfortunately there was no option. Already when Jessy said they was going there, I knew it was gonna escalate again.

Thank God Thomas was so smart to throw this stupid can so they can get away. I mean, they could have found Hannah and Richy, but they could have died, too. Although I probably would have gone there too, if I could have xD

But really being publicly marked by the MWAF would be really cool, that would be so exciting, I hope that will still happen. And since we still need to know what we have to do with all this, a connection between us and the MWAF will certainly come to light.🤭

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us. I just loved it! <3

#duskwood #duskwood episode 8 #duskwood episode 8 spoiler #duskwood mc #duskwood jake #duskwood mwaf #duskwood thomas #duskwood jessy #everbyte studios #duskwood theories #duskwood episode 8 theories #duskwood thoughts #duskwood episode 8 thoughts

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soldierswar · 3 years

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Kobik - Chapter VII

Bucky x Reader

Angst

Plot: You, Sam, Bucky, and even Kobik learn that she may be a lot more powerful than anybody thought.

Masterlist (For other chapters)

“Kobik,” you said, and signaled for her to stand behind you.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” one of the three guys barked.

You and Bucky nervously eyed each other from the corners of your eyes. You really wished you brought earpieces.

“What is it that you even want from her?” you hissed.

“Come on. Don’t you know what this thing can do? Spoiler alert, it’s not just little party tricks.”

Kobik held on to you and nervously squeezed your leg.

“Don’t you dare think about touching her,” Bucky said in a low, threatening tone.

You suddenly spotted Sam facing the backs of the men hiding behind a wall of the parking structure. You dared not look at him for longer than half a second so as to not give away his spot and stayed as still as a statue.

Suddenly, Kobik did something that you never would have expected, nor would you have let happen if you had any control. She unwrapped her arms from your legs and stepped towards the meanest of them, outstretching her arms to him so that he could pick her up.

Bucky looked livid.

“Kobik, don’t you dare.”

She looked back at him with innocent eyes and let the man pick her up.

“See?” the man gloated.

“That wasn’t so ha—”

But before he could finish his sentence his whole body lit up into a glowing blue and began convulsing as though he were being electrocuted…Because he was.

She didn’t let go of him until he fell backward and dropped to the floor. All of you stared at the two in shock. You didn’t know that she could do that. Kobik just stared at the man on the ground with a straight face.

“He’s not dead,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone, as though she was talking about a bug.

Before the other two guys had a chance to retaliate against the three of you they looked like they had been stunned in the back one by one and fell to the ground writhing in pain.

“Neither are they,” she added.

“But I didn’t do that.”

“Well, are you coming or not?” Sam yelled from across the parking lot holding a stun gun waving at you to come to the car in the parking structure. Right before following the direction you realized that Kobik was missing. She was right in front of you a second ago.

“Kobik? Come on before they wake up!” you called out.

But nothing…And then Bucky looked up.

“Kobik! Get down from there!” he yelled.

And there was Kobik. She was on the roof of the hospital ten stories up.

“But I have to see!”

“No!” Bucky protested.

“Come down now! We’re leaving, and the coast is clear!”

She was too far away for her expression to be clear, but she was too concentrated and defiant to even reply. Who knew if she was even listening.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you gloated.

Bucky shot you a glare.

Finally, she disappeared and seemed to teleport from the roof. But she didn’t come next to you. She suddenly appeared in one of the parking structures. But…it wasn’t the one that she was supposed to be at.

“Wrong one!” Bucky yelled so that she could hear.

“Kobik hasn’t quite gotten full control of her powers yet,” he explained.

You both ran towards the correct structure waiting for Kobik to just appear where you were supposed to go. But she didn’t. She just stood at the entrance with her shoulders slumped over. And she began to look a little weak.

“Come on, Kobik,” you doted.

“I can’t,” she panted.

You couldn’t hear much of what she said as she was relatively far, but it sounded like she was saying that she was too tired to move now. She might have exhausted herself because of all of the energy she had emitted within the past 15 minutes.

“I’ll go get her,” Bucky sighed letting you go meet up with Sam.

“Thanks for the rescue, Cap,” you panted. You couldn’t believe how winded you were after only ten seconds of running.

“No problem,” he replied shoving his stun gun in the back of his pants again.

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. She’ll just need a lot of rest.”

And then…Before Bucky could get to her she let out a blood-curdling scream. When you turned around to her direction another guy had grabbed her. But she didn’t do what she did before. This time she glowed brighter than you had ever seen before. And then the seemingly impossible happened. The entire front half of the parking structure exploded.

“Kobik!” you screamed.

Right before you were about to run, Sam held you back standing in front of you with his hands grasping onto your shoulders tightly.

“Get in the car and start the engine. We’ve got this.”

“No! I have to get—”

“Y/N, I’m not going to tell you again.”

Your jaw clenched as you looked at the destroyed part of the building. You felt helpless. But there was no possible way that you could get out of his grasp.

“Listen if you want to help, do this.”

Your jaw clenched. And you held back an eye roll when you took a moment to accept that he was right.

By the time you turned the car on Bucky was calling you on your cellphone.

“Bucky?”

“She’s okay,” he said.

But she didn’t sound okay. You could hear her crying loudly like she was scared. She sounded close enough to the phone for you to know that he was at least carrying her.

“Meet us at the hospital exit. We’re coming.”

You floored it out of the parking spot over to the exit.

Kobik was covered in rubble and in obvious distress sobbing harder than ever.

Bucky sat in the back with her trying to get her to calm down, and Sam joined you in the passengers’ seat.

“I’m sorry,” she cried.

“I didn’t mean to I…”

“I know,” Bucky would whisper holding her close.

“Did I hurt anyone?”

But Bucky wouldn’t answer that question.

“Don’t worry about that. Let’s just get you home.”

That answer didn’t stop the crying. There was nothing that he could do that would stop her crying. And in turn, you found tears begin to fall down your cheeks. You hoped that nobody noticed.

…

When you finally got home you needed to talk to Bucky. Sam was more than happy to stay with Kobik who had finally stopped crying but wouldn’t talk anymore. You grabbed Bucky and closed yourselves in your room.

“What the hell happened back there?”

Bucky sighed.

“She…She still hasn’t developed full control of her powers yet.”

His jaw clenched as you stared at him with a very serious look.

“What do you mean? I thought you said that she was totally harmless, James.”

“To you, Y/N,” he stated.

“Listen. She’s never been known to hurt anyone that she trusts or at least doesn’t have a reason to distrust; which was why I was totally comfortable leaving her with you.”

Fair point. She was nothing but harmless and playful.

“But when it comes to things like this when she was completely alone and caught off guard…Stuff like this could happen. With what happened this afternoon and tonight…It was probably too much for her.”

“So things like this have happened before?” you questioned.

“Y/N, why do you think that two scientists were studying her and keeping her existence under wraps? In the wrong hands, she could be, well, unstable. But she’s a lot better at controlling her powers now than she was a year ago…But she still needs help.”

You sat down on the bed absolutely exhausted after the incredibly long day that you had. It barely even registered that at the beginning of the day you were having a completely normal, happy morning and afternoon.

You sat down on the bed not having the energy to carry any type of expression on your face. You probably looked like you were in a trance.

“We have to know the damage,” you said after a solid minute of sitting.

“It’s probably all over the news now.”

Bucky sat down next to you and nodded in agreement while pulling his phone out. Before he even unlocked his phone there was a news article notification headlined, ‘Brooklyn Hospital Parking Structure Destroyed: 1 casualty.’.

You were both guiltily relieved that the only person that died was the guy that tried to grab Kobik. On the flip side, a lot of car owners and insurance companies were going to be pissed.

“How was she able to harbor all of that energy, James? You had to go get her because she was too weak to walk. And then she just exploded half of a building?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t even know if she has the answer to that question. I think it just happened without her knowing that she could even do that.”

He opened his phone again and went for further news coverage.

“They’re not tracing anything back to her or us.”

Not only did nothing get traced back to you guys, but the suspects of the explosion were the three guys that had their guns pointed to you before Kobik’s little trick, and Sam’s rescue. The only weird thing to news outlets was that there were no traces of whatever could have possibly created an explosion that big. Which most importantly meant that there were no signs of Kobik existing.

“Are you scared of her again?”

Bucky seemed worried about your answer. And you knew now that it was because he loved that little girl. Probably just as much as you loved her. And for that, you were grateful to her for coming into your lives when she did. Looking back at how caring he was for her made you see how much of an amazing dad he was going to be. Flashes of your eventual future watching him make your child laugh, or taking care of them when they had scrapes, and even the cliché of teaching them how to ride a bike. No matter how terrified he might feel about now knowing how to be a father, it was clear that he knew exactly how to be a dad.

He seemed a little bit more nervous from your cryptic pause. You then frowned and kissed him, offended that he would even ask you that. So you gave him the answer that he hoped you would have.

“Never.”

Note: I am so grateful to every one of you that have gotten invested in this story. It's been truly a joy to know that reading this makes so many of you guys happy. I love you all. <3

Tagged: @buckylove123 @teenagedreams-bucky @typicalnerd98 @veroxloki @white-wolf-buckaroo @acciosiriusblack @pastel-boy-sungjae @flightsandfantasy @noiralei @unstablesleepygal

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ghost-light · 3 years

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we rot, thinkin' lots about nothing

My contribution for Pride Day of @willieappreciationweek!!!

Summary:

Their gender- hm.

It was sort of like gender envy. Except remove the envy part. Because sure, ghosts could have gender. But it wasn’t really the gender he wanted. Stuck with it. Just like they were stuck in the afterlife, if you could call ghosthood an afterlife.

Read it under the cut or on ao3

To be fair, ghosts had never really needed a specific gender.

They still didn’t, at least not by any standards or official rules (spoiler alert; that’s because there were no definitive rules. The closest ones Willie had ever known to be rules were smashed to smithereens by Caleb Covington and Alex's band).

So when Julie asked if they wanted a pride flag or pin, it threw him off. When Julie showed them some pictures of pride flags for different gender identities, it threw them off. Hence the mini-spiral of skateboarding and maybe avoiding a certain band of ghosts and their lead singer.

It wasn’t hiding, per se. Willie Williamson Ortega didn’t hide. There was nothing to hide from, anyways. And yet, here he was, skating the day away, stuck in their own head with a problem that wouldn’t resolve itself.

He never had a label before. They were just a gay skater in the 80’s. He was just Willie, or William, to Caleb.

It didn’t feel quite right anymore.

The thing was, Willie's gender just was. They were a ghost. Couldn’t that be their gender?

(Agender, Flynn had suggested. Not having a particular gender. But that wasn’t quite right. He did have a gender. Probably.)

Willie tried explaining it to Alex, because he was a ghost too, right? Except… not quite in the sense that Willie was. Alex tried, he really did. But seeing the blonde’s encouraging but confused smile, and the way Alex’s eyebrows furrowed with intense concentration sank Willie’s spirits.

Flynn was a little more understanding. But they had found a label, was comfortable calling herself a demigirl lesbian. Demiboy and gay felt- close. Maybe. He hadn’t thought about these things so urgently before, hadn’t been able to find people that could truly get the situation. After seeing his look of distress, and the way their hands repeatedly combed through their hair, Flynn’s face softened. They put down their phone, still keeping a half-casual air. Adjusted their hat (where did Flynn get so many hats?).

“You know,” she paused. Exhaled slowly. “You know, gender is more like a concept. Like- my gender is basically a lesbian, yeah? It doesn’t make sense, but it makes sense to me. Some people call it a performance, but the point is that it shouldn’t define you. If you don’t find a label that you like, who cares, dude? If anyone gives you crap for it, hit them with your skateboard.”

The last line startled a laugh out of Willie, their shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “I, uh, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind. You’re-you’re pretty great at this stuff.”

Flynn smirked, tilting their head to the side. “I know. Now go get ready for your,” she wiggled her eyebrows a bit, “date with blondie. And I am off to catch my demon of a girlfriend’s dance rehearsal.” Their eyes sparked at the word “girlfriend”, and Willie couldn’t help but grin back.

“Not a date!” he called out. “Not- it’s not a date. It’s just movie night with Alex. And Luke and Reggie and Julie. See? Not a date.” Willie was fumbling with their words, meaning he was probably blushing hard too.

“Mhmm.” Flynn looked bemused, shaking her head a little. “Have fun on your not-a-date-ghost-party-plus-my-best-friend then, skater boy.”

—

Okay, so Flynn had been helpful. That wouldn’t explain why Willie still felt lost, though considerably less so than before.

Their gender- hm.

So gender envy without the envy. And it was still unclear if “ghost” was a real-enough gender, or if Willie was making it all up. So that took away from the metaphor quite a bit. Gender envy, but without the envy. Oh, and scrap the gender too. Nice metaphor, Ortega. You’re really making progress here.

It’s ok. Everything’s fine. Willie isn’t the least bit concerned. He didn’t need a label, honestly. So why did they feel like they needed one so badly? Nobody was going to care, Julie certainly wouldn’t mind regardless of the answer she got. (If Willie was being honest, it wasn’t really about Julie.)

Didn’t Willie figure this out when they were alive? Skaters didn’t need a gender. Skating was what defined them, not a gender identity label or their sexuality. Skating was the one thing that made them feel free and alive. And then they died, of course. That didn’t mean they couldn’t still skate, though. And yes, maybe he couldn’t really feel the wind in their hair as he rushed down Hollywood Boulevard, and as much fun as phasing straight through lifers was, it did only emphasize the fact that he was a ghost. Not real.

If Willie themself wasn’t real, then why should their gender have to be real? It was barely a significant part of them, anyways.

In all seriousness, he did have an idea of why Julie’s simple question was affecting them so much. Nobody had ever asked them that before. For years, decades, Willie had simply. Been. Willie Williamson Ortega, ghost skater at the Hollywood Ghost Club.

It hadn’t occurred to him just how much they didn’t feel like a person during that time. Skating was wonderful, of course. Their only true escape from the strange hodge-podge of Caleb’s talent show. It was Caleb that was the problem, Caleb that had been leeching off Willie’s being the whole time.

And then, he was alive again. Willie, that was. Not Caleb. Alex brought Willie back to life, and wasn’t that just ironic? Because Willie was so, so alive in ways that they had never been before. And all while he was dead, to top it off.

And the craziest part about it was-

And then their board rammed into someone, sending both parties to the ground in a groaning heap.

“Ah damn, I am so sorry, I- Reggie??” This was great. Another one of the band members that they ran over with a skateboard. Alex was never going to let him live this down. At least they weren’t obsessing more over the board than the person. (Although, Willie had done a quick check of his board, which seemed unharmed.)

“Man, I just wanted to go for a walk, not get turned into roadkill,” Reggie laughed, sitting up cautiously.

“I’m so sorry dude, I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention. Honestly, I was kinda having a minor afterlife crisis, as Alex would say.” He doesn’t know why he said that, doesn’t know what it is about Reggie that made them suddenly willing to stick around instead of apologize and skate off.

“Minor afterlife crisis, huh?” Reggie raised their eyebrows, hands propped up on his knees. “I mean, the afterlife is weird. Luke poofed my shirt away the first time we teleported! And Alex still gets wedgies, even though all our clothes are made of air!” Willie glanced at him, checking if he was serious or not. It was hard to tell, with Reggie’s earnest-puppy-dog confused face.

Willie inhaled deeply, sighing as they sat down. “Yeah. You know, I don’t think I’ve felt this alive, with Alex and you guys and Julie, since like, I died. And then Julie was asking about pride, and I can’t quite figure out what my gender identity is. It’s kinda…” His voice trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“Like you just are, but in a different way than everyone else.” Reggie murmured, eyes downcast.

Willie’s eyes snapped to Reggie. “Yeah! Exactly. You know that feeling? Because you just are, but nobody can understand that. I’m alive like I haven’t been in forever, and I can’t. Can’t put a name to myself anymore.”

Reggie nodded enthusiastically. “Luke keeps saying that maybe I’m like him. But I think he’s wrong. I used to wear skirts to our band performances. They were just fun to stomp and jump around on stage with. Nobody asks me, but if they did, I would say my gender’s like that. I’ll do it if it makes me feel good, but not because of labels.”

It was as simple as that. Willie took a breath, felt it sink into his bones and settle there. Simple. As. That. They’d been so busy worrying over finding a proper label. And truly, it wasn’t such a big deal.

Beside them, Reggie was still talking. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re ghosts. We can pretty much do anything. Skating makes you feel more you, right? You say that a lot. Skateboarding, that’s enough to be an identity, gender or not. My sister used to say, when our parents would get mad at me for wearing skirts or makeup, that it didn’t matter. Because I would always be me, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m always going to be me. Thank you, Reggie. I think you solved my minor afterlife crisis for me.” Skateboarding is a part of me. I can be a skater. I can be a ghost. I don’t need any other labels than that.

Except maybe Alex’s boyfriend. Or spouse. No! Stop thinking that much ahead, you haven’t even asked him out yet, Ortega! Focus on right now.

“Nah, it was all you. You knew it, you just needed to hear it again.” They grinned, green eyes sparkling in light of the setting sun. Willie huffed out a laugh, offering a fist. Reggie tapped his fist against Willie’s, not hesitating for a moment.

—

When Alex met Willie’s gaze, all he could see was happiness.

“Everything okay?” He asked, already knowing the answer that would come.

“Yeah. Reggie helped me figure some things out. And I’m still me. Just Willie.” They smiled, reaching out for Alex’s hand.

“Well, Just Willie, I hope you’re ready for Friday movie night. Luke picked A New Hope,” he leaned in and stage whispered, “for the seven hundredth time.”

Luke protested from across the couch, standing up to make his point.

“It’s a good movie, but we’ve all memorized the script at this point, Lucas.” Alex shot back, squeezing Willie’s hand slightly.

Willie leaned back, eyes fond as he took in the scene. Luke and Alex bickering loudly over who had the better movie choices, Julie laughing, exasperated as she bent over to paint Reggie’s nails a pale purple.

Definitely the most alive they had felt in a long time.

#willie appreciation week #willie wilbur williamson #willie jatp #jatp #julie and the phantoms #my writing stuffs

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rainofaugustsith · 3 years

Text

SWTOR and Companion Death

So. Some thoughts about companion deaths in SWTOR in general.

I'm not a fan.

SPOILERS FOR KOTFE ONWARD.

I do know the name of the franchise is Star WARS, and people die in wars. It would probably be extremely unrealistic if we had a scenario where our characters spent literally 17 years of their lives (and counting...well, 12 if we don't count carbonite) fighting and nobody around them died.

However, in SWTOR I think that most of the deaths could been avoided. I don't think they benefit the story. I think that all they really do, in the end, is deprive the audience of a lot of interesting characters.

I do think there are occasions when a player's character may wish to reject or kill a companion, but I also feel that there are ways to write so that it is an exception, and not commonplace.

And we have not even gotten to the NPC deaths. It has been a bloodbath for years with SWTOR and the writers show no signs of stopping it. Nathema - the body count from Nathema has taken almost twenty NPCs out of the main story. Onslaught? Yeah. Many more. It's become more unusual for an NPC to actually survive for the duration than to have a kill option.

I feel there are better ways to write than to take a Game of Thrones approach and kill everyone. When you eliminate everyone's beloved characters, and you leave the player with nothing more than a rotating cast of strangers, it's quite difficult to get into the story after a while.

Going through the companion deaths from KOTFE to Iokath:

Tanno Vik: The voiceover artist who played Tanno Vik died several years ago, and apparently the devs decided not to make the character recruitable in KOTFE because of that. I can understand this one. It seems that Tanno may die regardless of your choices, too. If you spare him during your meeting, he may not have survived the attack on Asylum, especially if the PC chose to use Valkorion's power.

HK-55: Yes, we get it, you wanted to show everyone that Arcann is a big old monster. The "thrown into carbonite," "slaughtering the Scions" “subjugating both the Republic and Empire” and "ruling as a harsh dictator" plot points didn't get it across quite enough. Dramatic. Yes. And they do bring HK-55 back

My objection to this death is not that they did it - because it actually does fit, even if it's a little extreme - is that they didn't make HK-55's return available to all in the actual main story of the game. I can understand making Shroud of Memory a bonus, because it's cute and funny but doesn't tie super directly into the main plot. But Arma Rasa? I think that should have been for everyone. Yes, I know you can buy it now - and I did - but I still think it should have been main story. If it were, we could have enjoyed HK-55's commentary in the rest of KOTFE and KOTET.

Kaliyo Djannis, Aric Jorgan: Fan service. But it makes no fucking sense. What exactly are you killing them for? They didn't listen, after they tried to compensate and salvage a mission that had gone south? They were left in the lurch because your PC was mission critical and went on a hallucinogenic hiking trip and didn't show up? There's literally nothing you can do to make the mission go right. It always fails, no matter who is in charge or what you tell them to do.

In Kaliyo's case, I really question why the devs thought that she, of all people, would be the character that most players would just love to spend an entire chapter with in one-on-one quality time in KOTFE. I think her kill option was a response to that - "yes, we forced you to play a chapter with this character but look, you can let her go now." Or perhaps it was a response to the frustration some players had with not being able to kill or reject her in the class story.

I think the class story could have sustained a branch where Kaliyo was asked to leave after the Wheezer incident. I think it's reasonable that a player's Agent may not have wanted to continue associating with her at that point. There were four other characters who could have taken her dialogue in the class story missions. But to do it years later? Eh.

In Aric's case, I have no idea what they were thinking. I've never had the feeling he's a character that is widely disliked. They needed to give an option to kill someone along with Kaliyo. I don't know. But it's weird and doesn't make sense IMHO.

Senya: So she's saved her boy. We get it. But considering that Senya also spent several chapters insisting that her children needed to be brought to justice, and was fully willing to engage Vaylin in combat if not kill her - the change of heart was confusing. I think Senya's fate was attached to Arcann's simply to give Arcann greater odds of survival. It seems that people like Senya even if they don't like Arcann. If the two had been separated, I really think less people would have saved Arcann.

Koth: Fan service. Nothing but fucking fan service. I'm sure it had nothing to do with Koth being a LGBTQ+ Black man who actually protested the player's actions and didn't let them off the hook. No, nothing to worry about here with that. That;s sarcasm in case I need to clarify. If things get to the point where Koth has left, your character literally works with him to save the ship and then can kill him while Lana stands there and watches and not a single person protests. After Koth has hijacked the ship and planted a bomb on it. The ship he adores. I can’t even. They could have done so much with this character and they just...did this instead. And then chose to completely ignore him even if he remained in the player's story. I still am salty, years later, that he didn't even get a cameo in the Nathema story. It's not as though the Gravestone's fate would have bothered him at all, amirite?

SCORPIO: One of the few kill options that actually might be justifiable, but the larger question is why she was trusted so much to begin with. And why the game feels it's light side to let her merge with a planet that keeps a necropolis of billions of organics it has slaughtered as research subjects.

Arcann: I feel Arcann should be handled and considered separately because he was not established first as a companion. He was framed and written as an adversary for all of KOTFE. But here we are forced to choose between "let Arcann live and become your new BFF who takes over Lana and Theron's place of trust with no punishment for his crimes" or "kill him on live television! I'm sure I'll be an Instagram Influencer now! Follow me at AllianceCommanderOdesssen uwu!"

Vette; Torian: Completely unnecessary. You have an Alliance that is so large that fighters are literally on the cliffs and in the trees helping you as you progress through the chapter. The Gravestone's taken to the skies. And yet nobody is available to swing by Torian or Vette's position to help them. You and Lana/Theron or Senya/Arcann are literally THE ONLY PEOPLE EVER who can do that. Oh, and the super-smart Hutt scientist in charge of your Research and Development team has given Vette an assault cannon for this huge battle against strong, skilled forces, despite the fact she's only operated an assault cannon...once? For a few minutes? *thumbs up, Oggurobb!*

I feel this was simply done to try to evoke emotion and to erase any sympathy the player may have had for Vaylin, since it immediately follows the Nathema sanitarium visit.

If they really felt the need to go with this, I feel they could have tied it to player actions earlier in the game. Did you do a lot of Alliance Alerts? Did you raise the Specialists' influence above 10? Did you do some of those veteran Star Fortresses and pick up a few extra companions? Then maybe you have enough extra personnel to save both. Quinn: More fan service, served up for those who would have liked to kill or reject Quinn all those years ago in the class story.

Just like Kaliyo - and Skadge, and Tanno Vik - I think the class story could have gone on without him if the Sith Warrior had been allowed to reject him after the Quinncident. I would have rejected him at that point. The writing in the class story could have sustained it. They could have given the healer role to one of the others. And then you'd get a branch where if Quinn was present, he'd show up on Iokath. If not, it would be someone else from the Sith class story, like one of the many Moffs the Warrior meets. Maybe the dude from Ilum, since he doesn't die. Or Hesker.

Theron: Now, here's the issue. The story sets up a scenario where asking Theron to leave because you no longer trust him is understandable. But I plead the case that it never should have gotten to that point. The entire betrayal story was completely unnecessary. Theron NEEDED to go undercover like that? He had a secret language he and Lana developed and just never used it to tip everyone off? He thought frying the Commander on Iokath or throwing her out the train window would be fun? After working so hard for peace, he literally sparked the next galactic war by tipping off everyone about Iokath and manipulating them all into going there so they could learn lots of fun new ways to kill each other?

Come. On. It doesn't make sense. Even in a spy game, I don't think Theron would have really thought that prodding the Empire and Republic to war with each other and the Alliance would have been worth it.

I feel like they could have done so many other things with the Order of Zildrog, and even had the same flashpoints, without making Theron appear to betray the Alliance.

DS Jaesa: *sigh* So she saw the Commander on the Holonet, never thought of coming to Odessen and instead went to Iokath to slaughter Alliance troops. Oh, and threaten to kill Lana, who may be the player’s partner. Again, it sets up a scenario where it makes sense that a player might kill her, but why was that even necessary? The scenario itself doesn't make sense. If you have Master Ranos, she says that Jaesa was spotted hunting for artifacts, I think? Maybe just maybe they could have worked with that?

Xalek: You're killing Xalek for...um...terrorizing miners...and...yeah. Okay. Dude was in the class story for about five minutes so I don't think anyone knows what is going on here.

Broonmark: Yes, he's basically a cold-blooded killer. But he's going after this Wookiee senator because he's allying with the Republic? Or getting some Talz to be allies? The Talz already seem to be aligned Republic. He's a bit late to that party. Why is it that I don't think Broonmark would be into politics or watching the news and would not care about this?

Rusk: Um, yeah, Bey'wan, about that guy you wanted me to recruit, he's, um, dead. Because I decided to sell him out to a Black Sun gang leader. Don't be mad?

Skadge: One of the few kill options I think most could agree is...not that bad. Your mission with Rusk is to kill him. He was an adversary in the game. My headcanon for my bounty hunters is that he never gets on the ship after Belsavis. There’s no way they would have ever brought him along. Another case of correcting something from the class story?

#swtor #swtor critical #rain plays swtor

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calzona-ga · 3 years

Link

SPOILER ALERT: Do not read if you haven’t watched the March 11 crossover episodes of “Station 19” (“Train in Vain”) and “Grey’s Anatomy” (“Helplessly Hoping”) on ABC.

RIP, Andrew DeLuca: surgical attending at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, ex-boyfriend of Meredith Grey, brother of Carina DeLuca, and, as of ABC’s crossover episodes of “Grey’s Anatomy” and “Station 19″ on Thursday night, murder victim by the hand of a henchman in a trafficking ring. Yes, DeLuca (Giacomo Gianniotti) was stabbed by one of the human traffickers he and Carina (Stefania Spampinato) had chased through Seattle, and despite receiving care at his own hospital, he died. But his efforts weren’t in vain, we learn: The traffickers are all arrested.

It was the culmination of a “Grey’s Anatomy” story that had been cut short by the COVID-19 production shutdown in March. In what turned out to be one of the final episodes of Season 16, DeLuca suspected a patient was being trafficked by her so-called “aunt” who had brought her to the hospital, but because he was in the middle of a manic episode, no one believed him. In the midseason finale of “Grey’s” in December, DeLuca — medicated for his bipolar disorder, well-rested and clear-eyed — spotted the trafficker, Opal (Stephanie Kurtzuba), and this time, he wasn’t going to let her get away.

In an interview with Gianniotti, who was on “Grey’s” for seven seasons, he said that when he learned how his character was going to die, he’d wanted to make sure that it was apparent that DeLuca — “a very brave and noble person,” in Gianniotti’s words — go out as “a pillar of representation for people struggling with mental health.”

“It wasn’t that he was unmedicated and unrested, and that’s what led him to put himself in a dangerous situation,” Gianniotti said. “This was the most DeLuca thing DeLuca has ever done.”

In the episode, as DeLuca hovered between life and death, he communed with Meredith (Ellen Pompeo) on the beach where she has spent most of this season, also in a liminal state, having been taken down by COVID in the season premiere. There, Meredith has hung out with Derek (Patrick Dempsey), her dead husband, and George (T.R. Knight), her dead friend — as well as characters who are still alive.

Of his beach scenes with Meredith, Gianniotti said: “You see DeLuca more happy and relaxed than you’ve ever seen him ever on the show, because all of those stressors are all gone. And he’s with the person whom he loves, which puts them even more at peace.”

“Grey’s Anatomy” — now its 17th season, and still the one most watched shows on television — is itself in limbo, according to showrunner Krista Vernoff. With negotiations with Pompeo for a contract extension ongoing, Vernoff told Variety she has to “plan for both contingencies” as she and the writers room map out the end of the season — or the series.

Though DeLuca is dead, Vernoff revealed that we haven’t seen the last of him — that’s what the beach is for, it seems. And Gianniotti, mentored by “Grey’s” executive producer-director Debbie Allen, returned recently to direct an episode that will air in the spring. He will miss the fans, Gianniotti said: “I’ve never seen a show be so beloved. To feel that love, and have felt that love over the seven seasons has really been remarkable.”

As Vernoff said, “He’s still in the family.”

In an interview, Vernoff talked about how she conceived of DeLuca’s death, the difficulties of not knowing whether the show is ending and how shooting during COVID has changed “Grey’s Anatomy.”

And what in God’s name is happening on the beach!?!

You killed DeLuca.

I’m the worst.

How did this story come about?

Honestly, the story told itself to me. I went for my walk on the beach to come up with my pitches, and these episodes came in whole cloth, like a vision. And I was like, “Oh, no! Really, that’s the story?” And it was. We knew as I pitched it that it was the midseason finale story.

Sometimes stories tell themselves to you, and your heart just breaks. You’re like, “That’s not what I want the end of that story to be!” But that’s so much of life this year.

Can you talk about killing a major character this season, and having the cause of death not be COVID?

That was born, I’m certain, of my psyche wrestling with all of the ongoing tragedies and traumas in the world not stopping due to COVID. There’s this feeling of injustice, like, no, COVID is enough. But sometimes you’re going through all of it at once.

Can you talk about putting DeLuca on the beach with Meredith, and the larger meaning of the beach as a storytelling device this year?

The beach was born out of desire to have an escape from the pandemic.

We came back before almost anyone else. And the actors were scared, and nobody really knew for sure that all the safety protocols were going to work. Doing the pandemic felt like the right thing creatively, but it also felt like the thing that was going to make the actors feel safe to come back to work, because they were all going to be able to be in masks. And if they weren’t, they would be outside. And once the decision was made to do COVID, and then the decision was made to give Meredith COVID, it felt like a way to get Meredith outside without a mask, and in a non-pandemic world.

If you’re a magical thinker like I am, that beach is a real magical in-between place. But if you’re not, if you are not a believer in magical things — if you are an atheist, a scientist, a whatever, my stepsons don’t believe in a magical place — we’ve designed it very carefully so that it also could just be a dream. So anytime someone’s on that beach with Meredith, they are also in her room so she’s hearing their voices from her hospital bed.

When DeLuca visits her on the beach, for me, DeLuca’s between life and death. For my stepsons, Meredith heard in her hospital room that something happened to DeLuca. So now she’s dreaming DeLuca! I wanted very much for the motif to work no matter what you believed.

It just feels to me like whatever you believe, that’s right.

DeLuca has been on the show for a long time. What did you want his final episode to say about him?

I think he went out a hero. I think that he went out fighting for what he believed in. And he was through his mental health crisis. He’d become a very productive member of the hospital staff. And he wasn’t going to let this woman walk away again.

What was it like when you told Giacomo Gianniotti what was going to happen to DeLuca?

He was so relieved that I was not having him kill himself, or go out in a mania frenzy. And he was excited to play it — he played the hell out of it. He actually does appear in a couple more episodes this season. And he’s directing an episode.

I’m going to assume that Meredith wakes up and finds out that he’s dead. Do you see the beach as a place she’ll have an awareness or a memory of in any way?

Yes.

OK!

I don’t have too much more to say about that, because I don’t want to spoil too much. And also: Sometimes I change my mind. But at the moment, yes.

It’s been such a heavy season for both “Grey’s” and “Station 19,” reflecting the world right now. But I know that’s not necessarily where your heart is as a storyteller. Can you talk about where the thinking is on continuing “Grey’s Anatomy”?

When you’re living through a pandemic, and you’re coming back amidst a pandemic, and you decide to do the pandemic, the nature of the storytelling turns a little bit darker. And so for this moment, it is where my heart is.

And I also feel like my heart as a storyteller, my sense of light, and my sense of hope and beauty and joy that infuses most of what I do is expressed through that beach. The joy, the collective joy for all of us in getting to see Derek Shepherd again, getting to see George O’Malley again, in getting out of the hospital and getting onto the beach, and seeing Meredith’s relief there — I know that we’re worried about her, but also there’s joy.

And in terms of whether or not it’s the last season of “Grey’s Anatomy,” I don’t know. And that’s the truth. I wish I knew. It’s a source of frustration at this point. And it sort of doubles my job, my workload, because I have to plan for both contingencies. But I am. And God willing, I’ll know soon.

It can’t end like this! Can you reveal how many episodes will be in this season of “Grey’s Anatomy”?

17.

That’s a lot.

It is a lot. Yeah, it’s a lot, considering what we’re navigating.

Will anyone else be joining Meredith on the beach?

Yes! But I won’t tell you.

Returning cast members or current?

There are some surprises in store.

Now that you have shot more than half the season during COVID, can you talk about what you’ve learned over the course of the year?

The crew is exhausted because they’re behind masks and visors all day. The masks and visors are dehydrating and stultifying, and as a result, you need more breaks. You need to send everybody off the stage to take their masks and visors off to hydrate. You can’t ask everybody to be there for 12 or 13 hours at a stretch. So we’re shooting 10-hour days. And that is a really significant change to what we’re able to accomplish and shoot.

What I’ve learned, and I’m continuing to learn, is how to write the show in a way that makes it producible — we cannot have scenes with as many characters in them. And we cannot have as many scenes. And we cannot have as many locations! Because we can’t have as many company moves. All of it has to become smaller, and that changes the stories we tell. If you usually have five or six people in a scene, and now you usually have two people in a scene, sometimes the whole cast isn’t in the episode. You look at an episode and you’re like, “Where’s Amelia?” Well, she’s home with the kids! We didn’t make the company move.

I think that there are silver linings: Deeper, longer richer scenes are really beautiful things sometimes. But they’re different for “Grey’s Anatomy.”

Do you see a light at the end of the tunnel, both for these fictional characters and for all of us?

Yes, I do! I feel like we’re all living the light at the end of the tunnel right now as our parents and grandparents get vaccinated. And as we begin to emerge, hopefully, from this year of cocoon. I feel like we’re living in in some light, and I do see a light at the end of the tunnel for these characters,whether this is the end of the series or the end of the season.

There’s so much coming up! I know this one is going to be devastating for the fans. And I feel it too. I cried harder watching this episode, this cut, than I’ve cried since I watched the episode where George O’Malley died. And that is a really powerful tribute to the character that we built and to the actor.

#grey's anatomy #krista vernoff #andrew deluca #giacomo gianniotti #variety #spoiler #17x07

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the-daily-multi-fandom-post · 4 years

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Hi :) Could you write enzo (tvd) x reader please? His girlfriend lost her humanity after someone she loved was killed, and enzo try everything he can for her to get it back (and succeeds)

Yes! Here it is!! ❤️🖤❤️

Request still open.

⚠️⚠️Warnings ⚠️⚠️ torcher, death, loss of humanity, sad, angst. Angsty with a happy ending?

Fandom: The vampire diaries

Pairing: Enzo x reader

Posted: (7-10-20) 1:05 am

Y/n’s world crushed when her brother was killed by Damon Salvatore. Damon was being an asshole and decided he was going to kill some random person, just because Elena didn’t want to be with him. He drained Y/ns brother dry of blood. What was worse was he knew it was Y/ns brother. He knew that Y/n was a friend of Elenas. That maybe if he killed her brother it would make Elena feel upset. But that wasn’t the case.

Y/n walked into her house that she shared with her slightly younger brother. -he was only about a year or two younger than her.

“Jackson!” She called, sitting her bag on the sofa as she walked through the living room to the kitchen to grab a blood bag. - her brother knew she was a vampire.

“Jack?” Y/n asked as she noticed a puddle of blood on the hardwood floor in the kitchen.

“Oh my god.” Y/ns voice broke as she fell down beside her brother. Her arms wrapped around him as tears went down her face.

He was the last member of her family. All her other family either didn’t talk to them or was dead.

“Please, don’t leave me.” She cried as she held onto him.

She already knew was dead so she didn’t even try to give him any of her blood.

“Please!” She sobbed into her brothers chest. She could see the two puncture wounds on his neck. She knew who did this, which made her sick to her stomach.

“Don’t leave me. Your the only thing I have left.” She cried for hours until she couldn’t no more. Her phone rang, but she never answered it. She couldn’t pull herself away from her brothers cold dead body.

A couple hours later she heard knocking at the door, but didn’t answer it. Whoever was knocking on the door let themselves in.

“Y/n, love. You never answered my calls. What’s goin- Oh my god. What happen?” Enzo asked as he bent down to H/n holding her brother.

“He killed him.” She cried holding onto her baby brother as if it would bring him back.

“He knew if he hurt me he would hurt Elena. But he went to far, Enzo.” She cried as she held on her brother tighter. Afraid to let go.

“Damon did this?” Enzo asked as he looked down at his girlfriend of 3 years.

She nodded as she wiped her teary eye.

“I’m going to make him pay.” He whispered looking at Y/n. She shook her head as she looked down at her brother. He noticed her take a deep breath then close her eyes.

“Y/n, Love.” He started slowly as he noticed what she was doing.

Grabbing her shoulders he shook her.

“Don’t, y/n. Cutting it off isn’t going to help not won’t bring him back.”

Y/n smirked as she opened her eyes back open. Her once bright y/e/c eyes were dark no emotion left in them.

“No, but it will make it easier for me to kill Damon.” With that she fled out the house to find Damon.

Enzo cursed as he grabbed his phone ringing Damon as fast as he could.

“Mate, you fucked up.”

“How did I fuck up? I feel good. I just had a fresh bite, and I’m feeling free as hell.” Damon slurred.

“Are you drunk, mate?” Enzo questioned as he started towards his car to go to the Salvatore house before his love.

“Just a little bit. (Knock knock). Hey look someone’s at the door. Probably my next meal. I’ll call you in a few minutes.”

“Damon, don’t.” Too late Damon hung you.

“Y/n, what can I do for you?” Damon asked allowing what he thought was his friend. But right now she wasn’t not a friend. She saw red. She was going to murder the oldest Salvatore is she could.

“You killed him. You killed my brother. So,” she starred at the man with a murderous glare.

“Oh, we’re talking about him. Yeah, didn’t really mean to. I mean, i just snapped and had myself a taste. Didn’t really know he died.” He chuckled looking at Y/n.

She growled as her y/e/c eyes turned red Veins appearing below her eyes.

“Look, we can talk this out can’t we. I mean, you saved him didn’t you.” Damon noticed the lack of humanity in her eyes and started to get nervous.

“I’m gonna kill you. But first a little bit of torcher.” Vamp running over to him she snapped his neck.

He thumped down to the floor “dead”.

Y/n grabbed him and pulled him to her car. Putting his body in the trunk and driving to her parents lake house in a different county.

Damon groaned as he slowly woke up. He tried to move his hands, but couldn’t his hands were chained down to the metal chair. He looked at his arm and noticed a IV going into his arm. He figured the IV was full of Vervain because he was burning from the inside out.

“Awe, look who’s awake. I thought you’d never wake up.” Y/n smirked as she walked over to Damon with a wooden stake in her hand.

“Your not gonna stake me.” Damon spoke confidently.

“Oh really, well..” she stabbed him quite literally in his back. Make him scream out in pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I think I just back stabbed you.” She giggled.

“Bitch.”

“I prefer murdeous psycho bitch. Actually, because that’s what I’m about to do. Become a murderous Psyco bitch.”

She pulled the stake from his back twisting it making it hurt worse than what it needed.

“Look at what I stole from Jeremy. You see I know how to use a gun. Always have, my family. Well, my late family. Which is dead, by the way.” Y/n held the pistol with wooden bullets pointed it at Damon’s knee.

“I don’t think you need to walk for a while.” She said shooting him twice in both knees. He was hissed and yelped in pain.

“Now, the torcher is just beginning.” She whispered as she bent down put her face in his.

“How does vervain feel going through veins?” Y/n asked as she sat in a chair in front of the oldest Salvatore.

“I stings, you asshole.”

“Well, I don’t think stinging is good enough.” She laughed.

Walking over to a bucket with a bunch of vervain in it. She put on gloves she grabbed the vervain and walked back over to Damon.

“Open up.” She smirked. Shoving the vervain in his mouth.

“Ahhh!” Damon screamed in agony.

“This is just the beginning, Damon. Nobody is going to find us. Ever. Nobody knows where we are. And I ditched both of our phones. So they won’t be able to track us. Plus I have sage burning. So not even the most power witch will be able to find us.” She rambled with a smirk on her face.

This went on for days. Y/n would torcher him, drain his blood, replacing the blood with vervain, shoot him with the wooden bullets. Making sure not to puncture his heart. But to keep the torcher going as long as she could. That is until someone came knocking on the door.

“Company I wonder who that could be. Doesn’t matter.” Y/n said grabbing the stake and stabbing Damon in his ribs.

“Get up and walk.” She demanded after she unchained the man.

He was pale and weak. Barely able to walk. But did as he was told.

She dragged him by the chains and pulled him up the stairs to the front door where she seen Stefan, Enzo, Caroline, Bonnie and Elena standing.

“Oh, joy more people.” She sarcastically spoke looking at her friends and boyfriend.

“Oh my god.” Bonnie gasped looking at a bloody and weak Damon.

“What, oh this?” She giggled wickedly.

“This is nothing. You should see my brother. Spoiler alert, he’s dead.” Y/n laughed with no emotion.

Everyone in front of her noticed the lack of emotion.

“You can’t come in. I’m afraid. You see I had a special witch bitch friend of mine do a spell where nobody can come in here until Damon’s dead or until I decide they can. So, Bonnie. Elena, You can’t even come in here if you tried. And the rest of you well. You see your all vampire so I ain’t worried ‘bout. But how bout you enjoy the front stage view of me killing Damon.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to do this.” Stefan started looking at his brother and then to his friend.

“No, I do have to do this. He killed the last of my family. Do you understand how it feels to have all your family killed in front of you?!” Y/n yelled as she looked at the younger Salvatore her eyes starting to become glassy as some emotions started slowly coming back to her.

“Yes, I do.” Elena said breaking into the conversation.

“You have no part in this. It’s your fucking fought that my brothers dead. If you would’ve just said the goddamn truth about loving them both of them. My brother would be alive. I would have my humanity. But you know I like being without my humanity. I mean do you know how good it feels to bite into someone and not worry about draining them?!” Y/n bellowed as she made her way in front of the group.

“Y/n, love. Please let’s talk about this.” Enzo spoke softly looking at his broken girlfriend in tears.

“Please, let me be there for you. You don’t need to do this. It’ll hurt him worse if you let him live. He will have live with the guilt knowing her killed the last of your family.” Enzo tried to get her to not kill Damon.

Yes, everyone there was mad at Damon. But they weren’t going to murder him.

“No!” She bellowed holding her head as more feelings started breaking through the barrier.

“Just stop! Make it stop!!” She sobbed holding her head as all the things she has done in the pass three days come back to her.

“Come in.” She whispered to the four people in front of her.

“If you don’t get him, I swear to any god out there I will kill him.” Y/ns eyes flashed black and red.

“Just think about your family. Know they are in a better place. They wouldn’t want you like this.”

She felt Enzos arms go around her as Stefan and Caroline but their arms around Damon and taking him away.

“I’m so sorry.” Y/n cried as she felt all her humanity come back to her. Hitting her like a title wave.

“It’s okay, love. It’s gonna be okay.” He kissed her forehead as he held her in her arms.

And it was okay. Y/n took her time to try to get back to normal. Luckily she wasn’t alone. Enzo was there the whole time for her. Anything she needed he was there for her. He loved her too much to just let her go.

#the vampire diaries #tvd #Enzo x reader #humanity #the vampire diaries Enzo x reader #tvd enzo x reader #the vampire diaries x reader

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tatyana-dreaming · 3 years

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Il Trovatore pt 1 (Met 2011)

*contains a lot of spoilers, probably

also from the get-go we need to just agree this opera is ridiculous (but also really intriguing) and not take it too seriously otherwise you’ll be like me and get Really Upset about it for 9 months and then listen more closely to that (mostly) playful, funny music and it will all make senseTM

don’t worry bc he will (oh yeah, spolier alert) also ~red herring~

not to me too meta already but this joy is really what Count di Luna is after but will never have bc he doesn’t Love Himself (or Life probably, you know what, I’m getting strong Claude Frollo vs. Esmeralda vibes in this essay I will) so anyways yay Leonora you were happy for at least a little bit!! and your actions “in the name of love” didn’t leave a body count (well... except for... well we’ll get to that later)

Ines knows what’s up

but it’s okay Leonora is taking this VERY seriously remember she already KNOWS earthly life is But a Shadow since she’s apparently already had divine joy so you know what?? cancelling your concern, Ines :’)

bonus: "you mean I‘m dangerous” (factually correct line from the libretto)

~~foreshadowing~~ she’s got her priorities sorted (I’m not saying they’re GOOD priorities, but you can’t say she isn’t a Girl on a Mission) you know what all joking aside Leonora is fierce af, fight me

hey, that’s the name of our show!!!

ever get the feeling that certain lyrics are just... About You

oh hi Manrico, yeah WHY NOT!?!?!

~~more foreshadowing~~ ouchie

guys this guy is not playing around literally everything is written on the wall and we’re only 20 minutes in, it’s like one of those movie trailers where you’ve already seen the whole movie

meta: di Luna IS the fire (more fire references?? In THIS Operaa!??!) see: the fire (or pyre rather) that started this whole hecking vendetta thing, the fire of passion, the fire of poison (ooops more spoilers) also what the heck is happening with this awkward blocking omg Sondra’s poor neck h e l p

“punish me, not him” part 1 (this request returns in Act IV of course) and also wow why are we still “my lord”-ing this guy??? anyways Leonora already being Consistent with her Life Plans and nobody can get in her way

but they can sure go at each other!! (*elizabeth swann voice* oh let's just haul out our swords and start banging away at each other! that will solve everything!!!) god Leonora deserves so much better

#Part 1/5 (yikes I know I’m sorry being concise was never my strong point but my blog my rules anyways bahaha)#il trovatore #opera #trovatore #not even gon tag the singers bc this is just nonsense okay

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magical-marvelous-mistoffelees · 5 years

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My Cats headcannons that nobody asked for

Any content is good content, in my opinion. Please enjoy and remember everyone has different ideas and opinions!

General

Most of the Jellicle are outdoor cats, and have human homes. However, they all spend a lot of time in the junkyard, and some even choose to also have dens there.

Victoria

She is Mistoffelees’ sister, and is mute/partially deaf.

She is not magical like her brother, or psychic like Coricopat and Tantomile, but she and Misto have always been able to understand each other, even without speaking.

She gave Quaxo the nickname Mistoffelees. (More on that below)

Her mate is Plato.

Both she and Misto were not born directly into the tribe, but they are still Jellicles. Bustopher brought them to the tribe after their mother died, because he even though he loves them, he could not care for them himself.

Grizabella

Grizabella’s kits are Demeter and Bomba.

The reason she was exiled was because when Macavity attacked the junkyard, several years before the present time, he also attacked her and her kits. Grizabella only defended herself and allowed him to take Demeter, who wasn’t an adult yet or necessarily capable of fighting for herself.

She left with her head held high, thinking she’d be just as successful anywhere else.

Spoiler alert, she wasn’t.

Old D

Munkustrap, Macavity, and Tugger are all his sons.

If Jellicles have up to nine lives, or can only be reborn 8 times, then this is his last life. He knows this, and has only told his sons. Macavity can use this information to his advantage, to possibly attack Old D and finish him off or ambush when Munk is supposed to take over, to take over for himself. This worries his Munk and Tugger, but Old D has faith that Macavity wouldn’t do that to even his own father.

His brother his Gus (after seeing the national tour, nobody can fight me on this).

Macavity

Was exiled after developing his magic in secret and using it to wreck havoc. He burned a good portion of the junkyard and the field behind it, let large, dangerous rats sneak into the junkyard, and tried to fight other Jellicles for no good reason. Old D could not reason with Macavity, and had to banish him for the safety of the tribe.

Stole Demeter when she was still a young kitten, only a few months away from being considered an adult. Initially she was going to be held for ransom, or some sort of trade, but he took special interest in her.

Can change his appearance from dusty ginger tabby to black with dark ginger tufts, similar to how Misto can go from black with white markings to almost fully black. (Basically think 1998 costume compared to the 2016 costume).

Munkustrap

Secretly, Munk is jealous of Tugger’s life. Tugger just gets to strut around and be lazy, whilst he is always working. He is almost envious of all the attention Tugger gets for doing nothing.

Watches over any new Jellicles for the first few months after they join the tribe, and all but officially adopts any new kits that join. Usually an older queen will take care of any new kittens not born into the tribe, but Munk is always around, making sure they’re okay.

The oldest in his litter.

Hates fighting Macavity, because they are brothers, but will do anything to protect his tribe.

Though he’s always exasperated with Tugger’s bullshit, he would kill for his younger brother.

Demeter is his mate, and Jemima is their daughter.

Rum Tum Tugger

Secretly jealous of Munkustrap’s life, because Munk is well respected and strong, while Tugger only has his looks and his ego.

BICON

“Rum Tum Tugger doesn’t care for a cuddle” my ass. He will never admit it, but he adores physical attention of any sort. The only people who know this are his humans, Misto, Old D, Bomba, and Munk. Tugger is unaware that Munk knows this, and Munk will never tell him (to protect Tugger’s ego, of course).

His best friends are Bomba and Misto (who is also his mate).

Tugger’s humans love rock and roll, and hearing rock music around his house and seeing pictures of rockstars inspired his whole act.

Was originally the runt of his litter. He always was (and always will be) very curious, but when he was a kit he was weak and small. He grew up to be a lot bigger, but isn’t as strong as many believe he is. He can hold his own in a fight, due to his size and muscle, but he’s not a trained fighter, and isn’t very agile.

Very insecure about this, and much of his arrogance/ego comes from faking it for so long that it just became a part of him. He loves attention, but worries that he isn’t enough and that people only love him for his outward rockstar persona.

Don’t get me wrong, he can still sometimes be a conceited bitch. But he isn’t shallow.

Quaxo/Mistoffelees

His sister is Victoria, and they seem to have some sort of telepathic way of communicating with each other.

His given name was Quaxo, but one day, he started referring to himself as Mistoffelees. When asked why, he would just say Victoria gave him the magical nickname. No one understands really why or how, but they don’t question it.

Before his number in during the ball, everyone assumed his powers were simple, just tricks of light or occasional levitation. Only Victoria, Old D, and Tugger knew his full capabilities beforehand.

Speaking of Tugger, he and Tugger used to hate each other. Tugger thought he was stuck up and cold, and he thought Tugger was arrogant and stupid. However, one day, Tugger was bothering Misto out of boredom. Wanting to go practice his magic, Misto told Tugger to leave him alone and not to follow him. Tugger obviously followed him (because no one tells him what he can’t do!) and saw Mistoffelees’ true magical capabilities. Tugger was fascinated and quickly took interest in the magic cat. Their friendship grew from there; Tugger realized that Misto was actually pretty badass and understanding, and Misto realized Tugger could be sweet and thoughtful. They later became mates, which, at that point, wasn’t a surprise to anyone. They practically spent all of their time together. Both cats put on a persona on the outside (Tugger being cocky, Misto being aloof), but they support and understand each other when in each other’s company, alone.

Tugger and Misto live in the same human home. Tugger invited Misto to live in with his humans, because Misto was kicked out of his old home due to his owners blaming him for things going missing, things breaking, and things moving as a result of his magic. He loves living with Tugger, but he misses he sister dearly.

Misto is secretly terrified of his powers, and the possibility of losing control over them. He fears Macavity almost as much as Demeter, because he knows Macavity could target him due to having similar magic to the mystery cat. He also fears his magic becoming deadly and accidentally hurting people.

Bombalurina

Most queens, including the younger ones, love Tugger and are fine with fawning over him, but would never see him as being a suitable mate. All except Bombalurina.

She’s initially jealous of Mistoffelees when he first becomes Tugger’s mate, since she had been Tugger’s friend longer and has had several short flings with him.

Eventually she gets over it, and remains close friends with both of them

Fiercely protective of her sister, they even have dens next to each other, just in case Macavity comes back again one night and they need to protect each other

Skimbleshanks/Jennyanydot

If Munk watches over every new kitten that isn’t born into the tribe, then these two adopt every new outside kitten

They took in Victoria and Misto, after they were brought to the tribe by Bustopher, and even though Jerrie and Teazer were a little older when they came, Skimble and Jenny still act like their parents. Jerrie and Teazer would never admit it, but they are eternally grateful.

Jenny doesn’t particularly trust trains, and she gets worried when Skimble is away for longer than they anticipated.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

The crime twins were saved by Macavity from some pollicles that were set upon them by some humans, after a failed burglary attempt.

This indebted them to Macavity, forcing them to work for him.

They were caught trying to steal from the junkyard by Munk and Alonzo, but after seeing how overworked, underfed, and just plain terrified they were, they were basically adopted on the spot.

They care deeply for everyone in the tribe, and want more than anything to be accepted and included. However, they are both very independent, due to years of only having each other, and many Jellicles, especially the older ones, are wary around them.

Tugger, Skimble, Jenny, and Munk would all die for the twins.

They live in a super wealthy home, and were last minute Christmas presents. They were practically grabbed off of the street and taken in, but they don’t mind because it gives them shelter and Macavity doesn’t usually go near Victoria Grove.

What do you guys think? Should I post more of these? Expand and talk more about any specific headcannon? Talk about other characters? I hope you enjoyed!

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Star Trek: Lower Decks Episode 5 – All the Easter Eggs and References

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This article contains spoilers for Star Trek: Lower Decks episode 5.

This episode of Star Trek: Lower Decks pays tribute to the oldest Trek monster of them all, slips in a few overt references to Enterprise, and even gives us a Geordi La Forge teddy bear.

Although Star Trek Day isn’t until next week, on September 8, Star Trek: Lower Decks is paying tribute to the first aired Trek episode of all time by stuffing its latest episode with more references to the franchise than its ever done before. Yes, somehow, “Cupid’s Errant Arrow,” seems to have more shout-outs and callbacks than all the other episodes of Lower Decks combined. We’re not sure if this is true, or whether some clever spacetime compression is at work, but this episode seemed a lot like a Captain Kirk sundae, with Trip Tucker sprinkles, and a side helping of a Will Riker burger. Yeah, two of those jokes are actually from this episode!

Here are all the Easter eggs, references, and shout-outs we caught in Star Trek: Lower Decks episode 5, “Cupid’s Errant Arrow.”

As real as a hopped-up Q on Captain Picard Day

Boimler says his new girlfriend Barb is “as real as a hopped-up Q on Captain Picard Day.” This references Q, of course, both the character played by John De Lancie in TNG, DS9, and Voyager. But, it also references the species of the Q Continuum in general.

“Captain Picard Day,” comes from the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode “The Pegasus,” and is generally agreed to be June 16th on our calendar. This is the second Captain Picard Day reference in from a new Trek series in 2020. In the first episode of Picard, “Remembrance,” Jean-Luc saw his Captain Picard Day banner — made by children on the Enterprise 1701-D, in his personal archive.

Love on the holodeck

When Mariner accuses Boimler of having holodeck girlfriends, he protests, saying “I don’t do that anymore.” Characters on Star Trek, specifically The Next Generation, have a long history of falling in love with holograms.

Reginald Barclay was probably the biggest offender here, and, in “Hollow Pursuits,” he made two holographic recreations of Deanna Troi.

Geordi fell in love with a hologram of Dr. Leah Brahams in the episode “Booby Trap,” and Riker nearly fell in love with Minuet in “11001001.”

Later in the episode, Barb says she believed the Mariner was a “rogue holodeck character,” which could also be a reference to “11001001,” since Minuet’s job was to keep Picard and Riker distracted while the Bynars messed with the Enterprise.

But, when we think of rogue holodeck characters, we generally think of Moriarty from the Sherlock Holmes episodes “Elementary, My Dear Data” and “Ship in a Bottle.” Boimler referenced the holographic Moriarty just last week in the Lower Decks episode “Moist Vessel.”

Geordi La Forge Teddy Bear

While waiting to meet Barb, Boimler is clearly holding a teddy bear meant to remind us of Geordi La Forge. Does the bear’s uniform match the TNG era? Or should we not worry about the teddy bear’s uniform?

Phylosian

Mariner offers to set-up Boimler with a “Phylosian,” who works on the Cerritos, and mentions

“she seems like a nice plant person.” Phylosians are plant people. This race of plant-based aliens originated an episode of The Animated Series called “The Infinite Vulcan.”

Is Barb a Time Lord?

While catching up with Boimler, Barb says that in a previous mission she had to “reverse the polarity and reboot the time stream.” Variants of the phrase “reverse the polarity of the neutron flow,” is a catchphrase usually associated with the Doctor from Doctor Who. It (mostly) originates during the 1970s Third Doctor era of Jon Pertwee, specifically the episodes “The Terror of the Autons,” “The Daemons,” and “The Sea Devils.”

That said, the phrase “reverse the polarity,” exists throughout all eras of Trek, starting with the TOS episode “Who Mourns for Adonais?” all the way through the Enterprise episode “Harbinger.”

Barb claiming she “rebooted the time stream,” is also a common Trek trope, and can be traced all the way back to TOS episodes like “Tomorrow Is Yesterday,” and “City On the Edge Of Forever.”

1920s Chicago

Barb’s reference to being stuck in 1920’s Chicago references the TOS episode “A Piece of the Action,” where the crew encounters an entire planet of 1920’s mobsters. However, in that episode, there was zero time travel, just a planet of alien mobster imitators.

Hunky Trek dudes

Intimidated the “hot hunk” named Jet, Boimler says “That guy is like a Kirk sundae with Trip Tucker sprinkles.” Obviously, this references Captain James T. Kirk and the chief engineer of the Enterprise NX-01, Charles “Trip” Tucker.

Starfleet relationships ending very badly.

Mariner says that “When a Starfleet relationship seems too good to be true, then RED ALERT, it probably is.” Then she launches into a litany of examples.

“She’s an alien who is going to eat you” Most aliens in Trek don’t actually eat people, but aliens who suck out the life force of people they’re pretending to date are fairly common. For example, in the DS9 episode “The Muse,” Jake Sisko is having his energy drained by a creature who is pretending to be an older woman who loves him but is really draining his life force.

“Or a Romulan Spy” This probably references the Romulan spy T’Pel from the episode “Data’s Day,” though nobody was trying to date her. In Picard, Agnes Jurati was an unwitting Romulan spy, though it’s unclear if the Lower Decks writing team knew about that when this episode was completed.

“Or a Salt Succubus” Ha! This is the big one. In the first aired Trek episode ever, “The Man Trap,” the shapeshifting M-113 lifeform pretends to be McCoy’s old girlfriend Nancy Crater but also turns into a variety of other attractive people and attempts to seduce several crewmembers, and even, in the guise of a hunky dude, makes a pass at Uhura. (Note: Uhura is the only person who didn’t fall for the salt vampire’s bullshit.)

“Or an Android” In TOS, Nurse Chapel falls in love with a secret android duplicate of her old boyfriend Roger Korby in the episode, “What Are Little Girls Made Of?” And, in the TOS episode “Requiem for Methuselah,” Kirk falls in love with Rayna, who is also a secret android.

“Or a Changeling” There are a lot of people who fall in love with shapeshifters in Star Trek, but saying “a Changeling,” probably refers to the actual species of “Changelings” from Deep Space Nine, of which, Odo is the most famous.

“Or one of those sexy people in rompers who murder you just for going on the grass” This references the episode “Justice,” in which Wesley falls in some grass and is nearly murdered by scantily clad people who were previously flirting with everyone.

DS9/ old uniform flashback

Mariner’s flashback to her time on the USS Quito seems to take place while the ship is docked at Deep Space Nine. Notably, the crew does not appear to actually be drinking on the space station, but rather, on their own ship. Because this flashback takes place prior to 2280, Mariner and her shipmates are wearing the later-era Starfleet uniforms with the grey shoulders, first introduced in Star Trek: First Contact. For more about what this all might mean, read our deep dive into this flashback scene here.

Mariner’s conspiracy chart

There are probably more Easter eggs in this scene than the entire show combined, but let’s do our best! Mariner has several pictures of several Trek aliens displayed, and she mentions some of them, but others are just kind of there. Here’s what we spotted.

“Barb’s not a Dauphin!” Mariner points to a picture of a furry alien called a Dauphin, which comes from the TNG episode “The Dauphin,” in which Wesley Crusher’s new girlfriend is revealed to be a furry shape-shifting monster with claws.

A picture of Lal, Data’s first daughter. In one corner, there seems to be an image of the android Lal, before she had decided on her gender and species. This version of Lal exists in the teaser of the TNG episode “The Offspring,”

“She could be a Suliban!” Mariner mentions the Suliban, which are time-traveling shapeshifting aliens that plagued the crew of the NX-01 Enterprise, starting with “Broken Bow.”

The Bynars: The purple-headed Bynars from “11001001,” are also pictured. This means that Mariner is entertaining the theory that Barb is a holodeck character, too. Just like the aforementioned, Minuet.

Seska: Mariner talks about undercover Cardassians for a second, and we see a picture of someone who looks like Seska. In Star Trek: Voyager, Seska was a Bajoran crewmember who turned out to really be a Cardassian spy. Her goal was to get close to Chakotay and to send secrets about the Maquis to the Cardassians. Seska was revealed to be a spy in the episode “State of Flux.”

Duras sisters: The Klingon traitors Lursa and B’Etor seem to be pictured here, too. At this point, in 2380, the Duras sisters have been dead for nine years. They died in Star Trek Generations when the Enterprise destroyed their Bird-of-Prey. That said, maybe they managed to escape?

Transporter clone: Mariner has a picture of two Barbs standing next to each other in the transporter. This references various transporter duplicates throughout Star Trek. The most famous examples are Kirks’ transporter duplicate in the TOS episode “The Enemy Within,” and Riker’s transporter duplicate in the TNG episode “Second Chances.”

M-113 Salt Vampire: Mariner has a very prominent picture of the M-113 creature in its natural state. This is actually the second time this creature from “The Man Trap,” has appeared in animated form. Very briefly, the M-113 creature was depicted at the beginning of the animated Short Treks episode “Empriah and Dot.”

Humpback Whales: Mariner has a huge picture of a humpback whale. This must reference Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home in which the crew goes back in time to bring whales into the future. What does that have to do with Mariner’s theory? She’s worried about time travel? Does she think Barb is actually Dr. Gillian Taylor? Well, considering that Barb is voiced by actress Gillian Jacobs, it seems possible that this is a reference to Gillian Taylor (Catherine Hicks), the marine biologist who traveled from the 20th century and into the 23rd.

An Andorian named Jennifer

While running through the corridors, Mariner pushes an Andorian out of her way and says dismissively, “Jennifer!” Is it weird that an Andorian has the name, Jennifer? Well, maybe not. In Voyager, a young Ktarians girl, Naomi Wildman, had the name, well “Naomi.”

Breen Infiltrator

Barb says she briefly thought Mariner was a Breen Infiltrator. The Breen were a rarely-seen, but often mentioned alien enemy of the Federation in TNG and DS9. During the Dominion War, the Breen actually were the ones who led the Dominion attack on Earth.

The Breen weren’t seen in canon until the fourth season DS9 episode “Indiscretion.” Throughout all their appearances, the Breen appeared entirely inside of “refrigeration suits,” and no one has ever seen what they actually look like. Meaning, the idea of a Breen Infiltrator is inherently hilarious because they could, in theory, look like anything under those helmets.

Parasite and Pheromones

When it is eventually revealed that there is a parasite connected to Boimler, there could be a small reference here to the TNG episode “Conspiracy,” in which Picard discovers several members of Starfleet Command have little bug parasites controlling them.

At the same time, the idea that an alien could have pheromones so strong that other humanoids find them irresistible vaguely recalls Star Trek: The Motion Picture. The backstory Ilia is that she is a Deltan, a species of humanoids who produce pheromones so strong that most people can’t resist. This is why she says “my oath of celibacy is on record.” She’s letting Kirk know that she’s not going to seduce everyone for her own gain, even though she totally could.

Calibrate the Dyson’s Sphere

Ron Docent (played by Matt Walsh) bemoans his various responsibilities on the USS Vancouver, specifically having to “calibrate the Dyson’s Sphere.” In Trek canon, as far as we know, there is only one Dyson’s Sphere, the one discovered by the Enterprise in the TNG episode “Relics.”

The password was “Riker”

Tendi correctly guesses that Docent uses the password “Riker.” This seems to imply that Riker is famous and well-liked enough in 2380, that he’s a common password. In canon, Riker is in command of the USS Titan during the events of Lower Decks.

Interestingly, if we go by the Picard timeline, Thad Riker, Will, and Deanna’s first child, will be born in 2381, which means, there’s a good chance that during the events of this episode, Deanna Troi is pregnant. Could the Troi-Rikers be buddies with Ron Docent? Is that why he choose “Riker” as his password?

We may or may not see the Troi-Rikers in a future episode of Lower Decks, but for now, you’ll have to excuse me. I need to change my password.

The post Star Trek: Lower Decks Episode 5 – All the Easter Eggs and References appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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softspideys · 5 years

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Missing (Peter Parker x reader)

summary: peter falls apart. you’re there to pick up the pieces.

warnings: angst, ***MAJOR endgame spoilers!!!***

words: 2.4k

pairings: peter parker x reader

a/n: I’ve had this idea for a while and now I’m finally gettin around to posting it so I hope you all enjoy! if you haven’t seen endgame PLEASE don’t read!

Peter was gone.

Not like how he was before, of course. Physically, he was still here. The problem was that nobody knew where.

Truth be told, you’d been a little skeptical when May called you. Lately, if Peter was so much as five minutes late she’d put out an AMBER Alert. But as she spoke, you realized that maybe this time was different.

“He didn’t come home after school today and I didn’t call him because I know I’ve been a little strict these past few weeks, you know? So I thought I’d give him space, but he still hasn’t come back and he’s not answering his phone and I just don’t know what to do.” May’s voice got shriller by the second.

“It’s okay,” you said, trying to be calm and reassuring. “I saw him at school today. I’m sure he’s just at Ned’s or something. I’ll let you know. We’ll find him, don’t worry.”

You hung up with her and exhaled. It wasn’t a total lie; you had seen Peter at school. For a little while, anyway. He left after lunch, claiming a doctor’s appointment. You cursed yourself for being foolish enough to believe him.

The truth was, everyone had been pretty much walking on eggshells around him ever since he got back. Being dead for all this time was bad enough, but losing Tony just as soon they’d reunited was even worse. Now he’d lost not one, but three father figures in just seventeen years.

You knew that when Peter wasn’t at school, he was lying in bed, refusing to get up unless it was to pee or shower. May had to bring him his meals or else he wouldn’t eat a thing. He didn’t go to Decathlon or Astronomy Club or Robotics, and you were positive his Spider-Man suit was sitting in his closet, gathering dust. He was quiet and withdrawn, refusing to touch and sometimes even speak to you. He was lifeless, like this shell was all that was left of him.

The worst part was that there was no way to help him. You couldn’t bring back Tony or Ben or Richard or Mary. You couldn’t relate to the events he’d seen and the things that had happened to him. All you could do was bear his sadness and sit through his silence and hope he would talk to you eventually.

So when Peter said he was leaving early to go to the doctor, you were more focused on the fact that he was speaking to you, that he was (supposedly) going to do something normal, and you’d said good-bye without a second thought.

And he’d played you like a fiddle. With a sigh, you texted Ned as your one last hope.

Is Peter with you?

He answered a few minutes later.

I thought he was with you???

You groaned.

He’s officially MIA and May is freaking out

What should we do?

May’s probably gonna call you. Just try to keep her calm. I’ll look for him

Ok. Keep me updated.

You put on your jacket and left your apartment, shivering a little in the crisp fall air. You closed your eyes, trying to think of all the places Peter could’ve gone. “Okay, Parker,” you said aloud. “Where the hell are you?”

For the next few hours, you combed what felt like every inch of Queens, looking for him. He wasn’t at the local coffee shop or his favorite comic book store. He wasn’t in Astoria Park or even at Delmar’s, although Mr. Delmar did say he had stopped by, the best clue you had all day.

“He came in earlier this afternoon,” he told you, his forehead creasing with concern. “Bought his usual and left.”

“He didn’t stay to talk?” you asked. “Or say where he was going?”

Mr. Delmar shook his head. “No. I thought it was a little strange, but he doesn’t say much these days anyway, and I just figured he was busy. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said. “He was just, uh, supposed to meet me somewhere and didn’t. But everything’s fine. Thanks for your help.”

By now it was getting dark and you were growing more and more worried. You’d even visited Tony Stark’s memorial statue in the hopes that Peter would be there, but he wasn’t. Instead of moving on to keep looking, you stayed for a few minutes, staring at the large, golden statue.

Tony was in his Iron Man armor, his arm held out straight in front of him with his palm up, like he was preparing to shoot a blast at some invisible evil. He had his mask on, but the visor was open, so his face was visible. It was hard to give a statue an expression, but whoever had sculpted it had done a pretty good job: Tony looked calm but determined, like he knew exactly what he was doing and had every confidence that it was going to work.

TONY STARK, PROTECTOR OF LIFE, the plaque read. Below it, a quote: “I AM IRON MAN.”

You didn’t think it was possible to miss someone you never knew, but the horrible ache in your chest said otherwise. The death of Tony Stark hadn’t just left a hole; it had left a void, a gap that was fifty feet across and a hundred deep. It couldn’t be filled, no matter how hard anyone tried. You wished he was here. You wished you could just find Peter.

As you stood there, one last idea suddenly popped into your head. You saw you’d gotten a text from May, asking if you’d found him. You typed back, Not yet, but I think I know where he is. Hoping you were right, you started to walk.

You tried to ignore how creepy the cemetery was at night, walking past the iron gates and trying not to trip over any graves. In the distance, you could see a lone figure sitting in front of one, and you breathed a sigh of relief. As you got closer, you texted May and Ned: Found him.

Peter must’ve been able to hear you coming, but he showed no sign of noticing you, not even when you were standing directly behind him. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds, surveying the stone in front of you.

Benjamin Parker 1970-2015 Beloved Husband, Uncle, and Friend

“Everyone is really worried about you,” you said finally, breaking the silence.

“How did you know where I was?” he asked. His voice was hollow.

You shrugged. “It wasn’t easy. I’ve been looking for hours. And you’re a dick for lying to everyone, by the way. But I figured if you weren’t at Tony’s, you’d be here.”

He flinched at the mention of his old mentor’s name. “I wanted to be alone for a while.”

You sighed, lowering yourself so you were sitting next to him and cringing at how cold the ground was. “What made you come here?” you asked, genuinely curious. You knew he and May visited Ben’s grave on his birthday and the anniversary of his death, and that she came alone here and there, but Peter had never mentioned going on his own before.

“I don’t know,” Peter said. “I just wanted to be close to him.”

For some reason, his answer put a lump in your throat. You had to blink for a few seconds before you could say anything else. It just wasn’t fair: it wasn’t fair that he had to go to a fucking grave to see his uncle or his father or his mentor. It wasn’t fair that he had suffered so much and wasn’t even out of his teens yet. It wasn’t fair that he had to bear all of it alone.

Before you could speak, Peter said, “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“Not just me,” you said. “Ned and May too.”

Her name seemed to wake something inside of him. “May,” he repeated. “Fuck. She must be freaking out.”

“That’s an understatement,” you said, trying not to think about how this was the most normal conversation the two of you had had in months. You wanted so badly to take his hand or put your head on his shoulder, but refrained.

You sat like that with him for a few minutes, waiting for him to speak again. “I wish it had been me,” he said finally.

“Stop it.”

“It’s the truth.”

“No, it’s not,” you said vehemently. “Do you think Tony would agree? You think he would want you to say that?”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” Peter said over you. “He’s dead because of me.”

“No, he isn’t,” you said, frustrated. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was. Tony knew the risks of what he was doing. He knew there was a chance he wouldn’t survive. He did it so you would, so you and Pepper and Morgan and May could live instead.”

He shook his head, but you nodded harder. “I know you don’t believe me. But it’s not on you. Trust me.”

“I just,” Peter said, his voice tight, “I just feel so different. So wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Like when I—when I came back, not all of me was there. Like a part of me died and then stayed dead.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just didn’t say anything, letting him continue.

“And I know I’m hurting you and May and Ned and basically everyone, and I’m sorry. I’m trying so hard, I swear I am, I just—” His voice broke, and he ducked his head, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“I just feel like Tony sacrificed himself for nothing. He did it so I could live, but I’m not even sure of who I am anymore. I don’t even know if I’m still me.”

Something inside of Peter seemed to collapse, and then he was sobbing. You’d never heard him cry like this—like he was being ripped apart, like every part of his body was in absolute agony. It made something twist inside you, and you reached for him on pure instinct.

To your surprise, as soon as your hands touched his shoulders, he turned and practically fell into you, going completely limp as he cried. He felt so small.

“Hey,” you whispered uselessly. “Hey, I got you. I got you. I’m here.” That was all you could say. There was nothing else for you to do.

You had no idea how long you and Peter remained like that, huddled together in front of Ben’s grave. But you knew that you’d stay there for as long as it took for him to be okay again, even if it meant forever.

When Peter’s sobs had quieted into dry heaves and sniffles, you said, “I want you to know something.” He didn’t answer, but you knew he was listening. “No matter what happens, you’re still you. You might not be how you were before, but that’s okay. You were Peter Parker then and you’re Peter Parker now. You’re real and you’re alive and you’re here. And that’s all that’s important.”

Slowly, Peter nodded. You let him collect himself for another minute before you stood up and offered him your hand. “C’mon,” you said. “Let’s go home.”

He took it, allowing you to pull him to his feet. You left the cemetery together, walking side-by-side in silence to his apartment. Checking the time, you saw that it was almost ten o’clock. “May’s gonna kill you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “She has every right to, though. I’m all she has.” He paused. “And vice versa.”

“No,” you said forcefully, causing him to look at you quickly. “You still have me. I’ll take care of you.”

Peter laughed humorlessly. “It’s a pretty shitty job.”

“Not to me,” you said without a second thought. “Not if it’s you.”

You didn’t even notice he had stopped walking at first. Finally you glanced back and turned around to find him standing under a streetlight, an odd look on his face. You went closer, furrowing your eyebrows. “What?”

He didn’t answer, so you took a few more steps. Up close, you could see his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, but clear all the same. “What is it?” you said again.

He said nothing for a second. Then, a little hoarsely, he asked, “Can I touch you?”

You were surprised, but nodded all too eagerly, and his hand came up to cradle one side of your face. You closed your eyes at the rough pads of his fingers and the gentle way they probed at your skin.

Just when you thought he might stay like that forever, he leaned in and crashed his lips against yours.

It was like a dam had burst. You’d been cut off from him for so long and now everything about him overwhelmed you all at once: the smell of his shampoo, his slightly chapped lips, the soft moan he let out as you kissed him back with fervor. You couldn’t get enough and it seemed like neither could he, barely pausing for breath as he pulled you flush against him.

The kiss was different but somehow still familiar. It was the new Peter who tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head back to kiss you deeper, but it was the old one who bumped noses with you and whose hands trembled slightly as they touched you. And for some reason, it was the kiss that made you realize everything was going to be okay, one way or another.

You could’ve stayed like that forever, but a sudden shrill beeping made the two of you spring apart. In an instant Peter had you pushed behind him, ready to defend from whatever was attacking, but you both quickly realized it was just a random car alarm going off.

He turned to face you again as you tried to catch your breath. “Your heart’s beating really fast,” he said quietly. Stupid spider-senses.

You pressed a hand to his chest, secretly pleased when he didn’t flinch away. “Yours too.”

The ghost of a smile flickered on his face and the sight of it, small but there all the same, made you want to cry with relief. Instead you just smiled back.

“I’m sorry. About these past few months.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I love you,” he said, and those three words made all of it worth it.

You reached up to brush some hair out of his face, tenderly trailing your fingers down his cheek. “I love you too,” you said. “You wanna get out of here?”

Peter hesitated for a second before he nodded. You held out your hand. He took it, and you started to walk down the darkened streets together.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and typed out a message to both May and Ned, only three words:

We’re coming home.

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player-1 · 5 years

Text

Dandelions are pretty persistent, am I right?

[Scala ad Caelum] Young Xehanort: You know what? When I become a Master, I want to uncover the mysteries of the Keyblade War.

Young Eraqus: Being a historian sounds boring...What are going to do the rest of your life?

(In the distance, Blaine spits out his coffee)

Blaine: ...Excuse me? You want to know about the War? Spoiler alert for you, everyone DIED!

[Keyblade Graveyard, the prequel] Xehanort: Now that my body is frail, I need a new vessel...Someone who is strong of both heart and body to support me.

Ven (Is babey): Stranger danger?

Xehanort: Perfect.

Ven: (+1 Angsty child) (Status: Vegetable)

Xehanort: (Well, that didn't work...Time to dump him on an island.)

Ephemer (Possibly angry ghost-boy): I'M GONNA HAUNT THE F**** OUT OF YOU, OLD MAN!

Xehanort: What was that?

Vanitas: Maybe the wind...(Why must you make me suffer? Why am I alive?)

[Radiant Garden] Terranort: Now then, Subject X...Do you remember anything else?

Subject X (aka Skuld): (It's not like I'm gonna tell you my life story, you albino freak.) ...

Terranort: Unsatisfying response, as usual...There must be something lacking in the tests...

Braig (Eavesdropping like the pirate uncle he is): (Don't worry kid, I feel your pain. That old fart doesn't know when to quit, amnesia or not...Maybe a little prank will do the trick.)

And that's how Braig staged the most infuriating "prank" in existence and caused Radiant Garden to fall into Darkness. It's just a prank dude, no hard feelings!

[The Castle That Never Was] Xemnas: And with the completion of Kingdom Hearts, we will be complete...No longer will we be cast-off shells, blah blah blah...

Marluxia: (God, this man is beyond idiocy...I'll teach him a few manners when I get my Keyblade back...And my sister...😢)

Larxene: (God, if he wasn't so hot I would've kicked his face in already...)

Luxord: (Redemption always has its cost...If he's so sure about summoning such a construct, he should be wary of the hand he's dealt...)

Demyx: ("Country Roads" playing on repeat the moment Xemnas even opened his mouth.)

[Keyblade Graveyard: Round Two]

Marluxia: Why are we back?

Larxene: Not sure, but who wants to be a stupid vessel? So~, want to start another coup?

Ephemer (Paranormal Sasstivity): Lauriam, you TRAITOR! How dare you betray us like this! I’ll curse you till the day you DIE!!!

Larxene: Did you hear somethin’?

Marluxia: Must’ve been the wind...

[The Final World]

Sora: Who did this to you? Heartless steal hearts, so...A Nobody?

Nameless Star (aka Strelitzia): A...somebody... (What do you mean a Nobody? I barely know my crush’s name but now I have this to worry about? I just hope Lauriam comes here sooner than later...)

~~~

Chirithy: Really, you are a Keyblade wielder, right?

Sora: Yeah, I suppose...I just learned it on the fly. By the way, mind telling me how to get back to my friends?

Chirithy: (I’m so glad Ven didn’t get his stupidity from him...He’s just so dim...) Don’t you already know how to do that?

Sora: I guess so...So it’s like the Power of Waking?

Chirithy: (Yep, no wonder I keep seeing him here...This kid’s worse than Ven...)

[Keyblade Graveyard: When Stupidity Strikes]

The Tempest: (Being its bad and terrifying Heartless self, capable of commiting mass genocide to both Heartless and people)

Sora: I’ll stop it!

(Runs straight into the storm, ON HIS OWN, as if the first time didn’t count)

Ephemer and the entire Graveyard: (Facepalm so hard the world vibrates)

Ephemer (Not angry, just disappointed...): So this is why Ava chose the worthy ones...Glad I got to see it the second time. 😑

~~~

TLDR; Wherever Xehanort turns (or Sora), the light of the past will silently judge everything they do, whether or not they even remember anything. (Though in this case, it’s just so deeply ingrained into their minds that one could only cringe at their attempts. Am I just overthinking this? Who knows. )

#Xehanort #Sora #Ephemer #Blaine #Brain #Ven #Skuld #Chirithy #Lauriam #Marluxia #Larxene #Demyx #Luxord #Xemnas #Braig #KH #KH3

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grumpyhedgehogs · 5 years

Text

The Judgement of Petals

Summary: The Judge leaves flowers for various citizens of Hope County. Secrets are brought to light.

Part 2: Here Part 3: Here

Notes:

I just love that the Judge will go pick flowers if your player is idle long enough. My sweet summer child.

One important thing about this fic is that I went with the headcanon that nobody actually knows for sure that it’s Dep behind the mask, but some people have suspicions. Because you can’t tell me that Grace and Sharky and the Ryes wouldn’t go in guns blazing to get Dep back.

Also: SPOILERS! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED THE GAME. (Also, I just kinda handpicked the parts of all the endings that I felt went with the story. Ah, the powers of fic writing.)

@sadyeehawmp3 asked me to tag them, so here you go! Hope you enjoy and angst and fluff!

“They speak only one language- that of violence.”

The Father

After it was all over- the twins dead, Hope County saved, the Father neutralized- after everything, the Captain wasn’t surprised to find the Judge had simply disappeared into thin air. They had knelt next to Joseph for a long time at the end; Captain could hear their sobs but couldn’t tell whether they were of sorrow or relief- but they did speak of some unknowable grief. Captain had turned away, paced a few yards, and left them to it. They deserved to collect their thoughts, if only for a moment.

When the Captain turned back, arm already up to gesture that they could both return to Hope County, that they were both free from whatever hell they had fallen into, the Judge was gone. In their wake, they had left three small purple flowers. They were cut too early, barely blooming, and speckled with dirt and ash. They looked bedraggled and flattened, as if the Judge had smothered them into their coat for safekeeping- which they probably did.

The Captain recognized them as petunias.

They were left there, to rot or to burn with the body of the Father. The Captain had a vague hope that the wind would carry the petals away before the flames reached them.

Jerome

It had been three or four weeks since the end of the conflict, and to Jerome it seemed as if he was even busier than before the war with the Highwaymen ended. He was needed from one end of the county to another, day in and day out, working to help refugees, go on supply runs, shore up defenses, provide faith and council to the hopeless- whatever the people needed, Jerome was determined to provide.

But he was hesitant more so now than ever to call these people his flock. He’d been burned one too many times he supposed. It never helped to get too attached to many in a place such as their world.

These thoughts, these anxieties-what if something else happens? One thing after another, who’s to say there won’t come someone else- someone worse that Joseph Seed and the Twins put together, we never catch a break do we- combined with the storm brewing that night had him wide awake. He sat quietly watching the rain lash at the muddied yard beyond his porch. There was a fire dying in the grate behind him- he could hear the fading crackles of the last bits of wood. Soon it would just be embers.

He must have been more tired than he realized- maybe the rain or the dying fire had lulled him into a doze, maybe he had been sleepwalking and had only dreamed that he had gotten up, maybe this was still a dream- he couldn't settle on a believable explanation for not seeing who left the bouquet on the top step of his porch.

Jerome jolted in his seat, heart pounding hard enough to break his ribs. The rain had gotten even worse now, mixing with the dark to make a gloom that was impenetrable. There was no way he could catch whoever had done it.

He approached cautiously, thoughts of Faith Seed flickering behind his eyes, but none of the blossoms on the worn wooden floorboards looked a thing like the Bliss.

The bouquet was obviously made by an amateur; the blooms weren’t full- some of them were too young or too old, there were torn petals and browning edges, most of the flowers looked like they’d been drowned in all the rain, and pollen blurted out onto the toe of his boot when he went to nudge them. It was all held together with a rough piece of twine, threaded with another unknown purple flower.

Jerome bent closer, hand on his holster, afraid to inhale in case he did in fact have another Faith on his hands. But he recognized irises when he saw them. Bluebells -the low hanging flowers missing a few blossoms, as if they were pulled off the stem hastily- were there too.

It wasn’t until he showed Nana the bouquet later the next (same? Jerome really needed to catch up on his sleep) morning that he found out the two flowers he didn’t know were called bittersweet and magnolias. The one in the twine was verbana.

“What does it mean?” He asked her, rubbing the back of his scalp irritably. He was unused to feeling flustered by plants.

“Means someone out there thinks very highly of you son,” Nana quipped flippantly. “Magnolia and bittersweet, those are nobility and truth, respectively, ya see, and bluebells are humility. Verbana’s a strange inclusion though- usually means ‘pray for me.’ Guess they know you’re a pastor. But the iris, now that’s the interesting one.”

“It is? Why?”

She tipped her head back, blew out a big breath and pushed her glasses up her sweaty nose. The storm had blown away in the early hours and now Jerome could already feel a sunburn starting across the tops of his shoulders. “Means a couple a things, depending on who gives em- faith, hope, those are probably the meanings this one’s going for. Wisdom and valor, too, I suppose. If somebody you know gave ‘em to you they can mean that your friendship means a lot too. Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Nobody,” Jerome hastened to answer. He shook his head in bewilderment, staring at the wilting flowers in his palm. Something deep in his gut flickered with warmth. There was a nagging at the back of his mind. “I didn’t see who left it.”

“Hm,” Nana rejoined. She shrugged. “Captain said the Judge left flowers for the Father at the end. Petunias.”

“You think the Judge is giving out bouquets?” Jerome couldn’t really wrap his head around such an imposing figure slogging through the storm in the middle of the night to give him flowers. But there were rumors…

Nick had said that when he saw their eyes there was something familiar-

“You see anybody else picking flowers these days?” She had a point there. “Besides, if it is the Judge, they think a hell of a lot more of you than the Father.”

“Wh- that’s not true. They loved the Father. They followed him everywhere. Captain said they grieved when he died.”

Nana’s glare was so sharp and hot he had to drop his eyes. “They cried all right- lots of reasons for people to cry, and not any of them very good these days. But the flowers say something different about those two than your image of their relationship, Jerome. Petunias- they’re something you leave an enemy. Most of the time, at least. Anger, resentment- only good thing they mean is not losing hope.”

Jerome didn’t have anything to say to that. Nana huffed and walked away from him, shaking her head.

In the next few weeks he was on high alert; every crack of a twig and patter of rain outside his door was greeted with attentive eyes. If it was the Judge- if what Nick thought was true-

But he never saw anyone.

(He kept the flowers until they browned and cracked and crumbled away.)

Kim

Kim had already talked about the petunias with the Captain- they had seemed agitated, upset ever since the Judge disappeared after they helped take down Joseph. Kim wasn’t sure what surprised her more; that the Judge really turned on the Father they loved so much, or that the Captain was so torn up about them leaving without saying goodbye.

Nana had also let slip that Jerome had received an odd gift from out of the blue a week ago, but she hadn’t thought much of it. Jerome was an attractive man and a compassionate one at that- it wouldn’t surprise her if he had more than a few admirers around Hope County.

Her flowers showed up on the kitchen table in the early morning.

Kim had been the first one awake; that in and of itself was a startling feat, given that Carmina was wont to be up at the “ass-crack of dawn” as her father put it. She’d decided to have an actual breakfast ready for her daughter and husband today; no cereal bars or stale bread crap for them today.

The kitchen was cool and welcoming in the soft morning light. Kim loved this time of day; everything seemed quiet and peaceful. The world was for the taking and Kim wasn’t going to waste the chance.

She’d opened the back door, propped the screen ajar to get some nice air flow and gone into the pantry to check their stores. Her fringe brushed into her eyes. As Kim lifted an absent hand to stroke the strands out of the way, she heard that faulty floorboard two feet inside the back door creak.

She froze.

There was silence. Her fingers twitched to her gun. Birds were singing outside the window.

There was a rustle of fabric. Kim pulled her gun. It caught on the calluses of her palms, slipping in her sweat. Should she call out to Nick? Take whoever it was on her own? How much time did she have?

There was another shuffle. The same floorboard creaked. She breathed in, breathed out.

“Hands up,” she shouted, twisting around the corner, gun up, trigger finger itchy. Kim only caught a glimpse of the tails of a long coat whipping out of sight around the screen door.

There was a thump from upstairs, feet on the landing. “Mom?”

It took Kim a second to see the bouquet. It sat innocently before her chair at the table. The twine was tied in a lopsided bow.

The confusion Nana had mentioned Jerome expressed suddenly started to make sense.

“I’m fine honey,” Kim called back while holstering her weapon tentatively, knowing that wouldn’t assuage Carmina’s worries in the slightest. “Just- thought I saw somebody. It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

She had to take a few more minutes to calm her daughter down enough to go back to resting, but once she did, Kim snatched up the bundle. Just like Nana had mentioned with Jerome’s flowers, not a single Bliss blossom was in sight. They were all flowers Kim knew were native to Hope County, all ones Carmina herself had picked for her mother when she was little.

There was a book on flowers somewhere on their bookshelf; Kim remembered thinking it could tell them about which ones were good to eat before promptly forgetting it was there when she put it down.

She found it after a few minutes of scrambling, in which she tried to be as quiet as possible for the house’s sleeping occupants. It was old and dusty, pages yellowed and crinkled with water damage. It took even longer to find all the right flowers inside.

Camomile she recognized from the front of the box of tea; apparently they were for relaxation now, but the old meaning was “energy in the face of adversity.” Some 19th century bullshit.

Red poppies, like the ones that grew outside their home, meant “remembrance.” (Something twisted in Kim’s chest.)

Blue violets meant “faithfulness” or “watchfulness”; the book suggested that the sender was either saying they would watch out for the receiver until death, or that the sender believed that the receiver was a symbol of faithfulness. White zinnia was supposedly for “goodness,” and white heather meant “protection.”

But the last blooms, the ones that it took Kim the longest to define, were purple hyacinths.

“Pleading for forgiveness,” Kim murmured aloud, and the knot in her chest moved to her throat.

She showed Nick the bouquet; he’d already heard from Nana who the old woman thought was giving out flowers and Kim knew who Nick thought the Judge was. She didn’t say anything, just slid him the book across the breakfast table after Carmina had blown out the door to “get shit done.”

He sat silently for a few minutes but Kim knew when he got to the hyacinths. Nick shoved the text away, pushed his hat back on his head and placed his face in worn hands. Kim couldn’t think to say anything- what was there to say that would make this better? She just sat with her husband, held him around the shoulders, and stared at the crudely put together gesture on the table. The flowers were as ragged as Nana had mentioned Jerome’s were. The twine was obviously pulled off of a larger rope. It looked like a child had made it.

(Kim put it in a vase on her bedside table and woke every morning for the next week afraid it would be gone when she looked over. She didn't want to think what they’d do once the flowers died.)

Hurk

Blade showed up holding a bouquet out to his father with a note declaiming Hurk as the recipient. His son and cousin had been down at the river, hoping to catch something edible and not canned to eat for dinner. When Hurk jerked around to stare accusingly at Sharky, he simply shook his head.

“Kid went to take a piss in the woods and says he stopped to draw some shit in the dirt or something. Said a nice stranger from the trees gave him that and a cool stick to play with.”

“You think it was the Judge?” Hurk asked uneasily. If Blade’s mother found out how near to the Judge their son had been, he would be in deep shit.

Sharky’s face was uncharacteristically stony. “Kid said they didn’t say nothin’.”

“Nick says- do you really think it could be them?”

Sharky paused before he shrugged. The Dep was always a rough topic with him, just like they were with Nick: talking about a man’s only friend who died horribly did that.

“It was a pretty cool stick,” Sharky admitted.

Hurk gulped and nodded. He pried the flowers gently out of his son’s hand and dropped a kiss on the top of Blade’s head. Sharky motioned to Blade to help him get the fish he had thrown over his shoulder to the kitchens. Hurk held out a hand to stop him.

“How am I supposed to know what the fuck any of these mean? Kim said they might be important but I know fuck all about flowers, man.”

Sharky smirked a little and nodded at the note with Hurk’s name on it. “Think they made it easy on you, idiot.”

Hurk scowled at his cousin but flipped open the note, which was really a piece of notebook paper folded in half. He hardly registered Sharky herding Blade away once he stared matching the names and descriptions to the petals.

The handwriting was sloppy and jagged, trailing off and leaving punctures through the paper in places as if the person writing wasn’t used to holding a pen. Hurk read it all anyway. And then he read it again, just in case he missed something. His stomach was sinking.

Red tulip- Loyalty. Weird start, but okay. He guessed he was pretty loyal to his family.

Daffodils- New beginnings. Was the Judge talking about Blade? Probably. Hurk hadn’t exactly been quiet about his excitement about being a father.

Red Gladiolus- Strength, integrity. What the hell did integrity mean again?

Buttercups- childishness. Which, okay, that was fair he guessed.

Coreopsis- Always cheerful. Hurk swallowed thickly at that: Dep had liked him for his sense of humor.

Red/Yellow Zinnia- In memory of an absent friend.

That one threw him for a loop. Who was missing? A lot of people these days, but Hurk flashed on how torn up Kim Rye had seemed that day she muttered something about her own flowers dying, how Jerome had seemed pale for weeks, how Sharky and Nick were unable to speak from anger when they saw the Captain with that stupid old deputy outfit they’d found and donned on a lark. Yeah, okay. Maybe Hope County was missing someone pretty damn important.

The bouquet itself wasn’t tied with anything but a few other flowers; these were long stemmed yellow flowers, keeping in theme with the colors of the bouquet itself. Hurk flipped the paper over and found one last line down at the bottom of the page like he wasn’t really supposed to find it.

Rue- Regret, sorrow, repentance. You were a good friend.

“Well,” Hurk said aloud. He was hoarse; it hurt to speak. “Fuck.”

He stopped thinking Sharky and Nick were crazy after that.

He kept Blade close the next few days because while he missed them something awful like hell was he gonna let his son anywhere near somebody who’d been brainwashed for years on end by Joseph fucking Seed. That didn’t mean that he didn’t try to look out for anybody living in the woods. Sometimes Hurk thought he saw somebody moving on the edges of his vision when he was out there, but there was no one whenever he turned.

(He kept the flowers on the windowsill- he couldn’t take care of them for shit and his throat felt tight every time he realized that the only thing he had left of his friend would die in a day or two, but he just- he wanted them to know. To see. He is loyal, damn it. He is.)

Sharky

The Dep and Sharky were good friends. They were best friends.

He didn’t feel at all put-off that he hadn’t received a bunch of stupid flowers from the Judge. Nope. Nuh-uh. They didn’t even know that the Judge and Dep were the same person, really. The Judge could just be some weirdo in a mask with personal space issues. He didn't care if he didn’t get a bunch of plants from some stalker psycho killer. Zero jealousy here. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Sharky pumped his fist in the air when he saw the stupid not at all long awaited bouquet sitting on the hood of his truck. The same notebook paper as Hurk’s bunch lay folded underneath the plants, so that the hot metal was buffered from melting the petals too easily. The heat wave was continuing, though, and the flowers were already looking more than a little worse for wear. He snapped them up eagerly and shoved his way into the truck before he allowed himself to read it. His hands were shaking.

His name- Charlemagne Victor Boshaw IV, not his nickname- was printed sloppily on the outside. (They remembered how to spell my name!)

On the inside, his note looked pretty much like Hurk’s.

Morning Glory- affection. Don’t make any jokes.

White clover- Thinking of you. Seriously, no jokes.

Purple Carnation- changeable, whimsical. His mood swings weren’t that bad, come on.

Baby’s Breath- purity of heart. Okay, that one wasn’t really true.

Azalea- Take care of yourself for me. NOT that way.

Viscaria- Invitation to dance. We disco-ed pretty good, huh?

Then, at the bottom, it was signed with a shaky smiley face. It looked like they’d tried to cross it out a few times, but he could still make it out.

Hurk had told him about his note, and there was still at least one flower he didn’t know the name of. His heart beat too fast in his mouth. This part was gonna suck.

Sure enough, there were three more lines on the back.

Aloe- grief.

Love-lies-bleeding- hopelessness.

Don’t try to find me, friend. Please.

“Oh, like hell,” Sharky snarled at the paper. He crumpled it in his overeager grip, but just as quickly smoothed it back out. His friend- his only friend.

They weren’t dead.

“Hang on in there, Dep,” Sharky muttered, starting up the truck. The engine whined, rumbled, and turned over. He’d have to take a detour; Nick Rye would want to know about this.

He’d keep looking however fucking long it took. The Dep couldn’t honestly expect to reappear having obviously been fucked up by Joseph Seed for years, turn on the fucker at the last second and then get away with just sending fucking flowers, could they? They couldn't really think he’d leave them out in the cold without putting up a good Goddamn fight.

“You just hang on in there, buddy. We’re gonna getcha home safe.”

(He kept the flowers in a loop of the same twine that tied them together hanging from his rear view mirror. They dried and crumpled in on themselves in record time, but he didn't mind. When they started to lose their smell Sharky dug out an old air-freshener from the glove box. It was all good.)

Grace

Grace had Nana explain her flowers to her when they came.

She knew that she might get some; hell, if Hurk radioed in to say he got a bouquet she sure as shit better get one if the Judge really was who they thought they were. God, this would all be a lot easier if the Judge could talk. If Grace could see. If the world hadn't gone to hell in a handbasket.

“If, if, if.” She had no time for “if” these days.

The flowers smelled pungent; they must have picked the ones they did so she could find them in the dark. They were on her window ledge when she woke up in the morning. Grace was less worried about the Judge wandering around her land in the dark of the night than she thought she'd be. (she still closed the window.)

Nana took her hands and placed her fingers on the petals as she explained them. Grace kept her touch as delicate as she could; she could imagine it was almost as if she were touching the Dep’s face instead of dying vegetation this way.

Who knew being blind bred loneliness?

“Black-eyed susans,” Nana helped Grace finger the thin, long petals, soft like silk. “They’re bright yellow, in pretty good shape. The Judge is getting better at picking flowers.”

“What do they mean?”

“For you? Justice, most likely. Now these next, with the wide petals? Those are geraniums, pinkish-white, they mean determination, or refinement I guess, but I think it’s the former. These layered ones are chrysanthemums, white and purple, so let’s see, that’d be...truth and honesty.”

“This is-” Grace felt the next stem, her fingernail accidentally slicing into it. “Isn’t this a dandelion? I can feel the- the fluffy bit.”

Nana snorted a laugh. “Yes ma’am it is. They mean overcoming hardship.”

Grace’s mouth went dry. God damn them. They could still get to her, and they didn’t even have to give a rousing speech to do it this time.

Where the hell were they?

“What’s this tying it together, Nana? It’s not rope.” whatever it was, there were crinkles in it like the Judge (Dep?) had tried to do something fancy with it but gave up halfway through. The knot itself was double or triple tied. It was probably cutting into the stems too much. Grace guessed the Judge moved around a lot on a daily basis; they probably wanted to make sure the bunch all stayed together.

“That’s ivy, dear. Feel the leaves? Don’t worry, I’ll bet the Judge made sure it wasn’t the poisonous type. It’s got some wormwood woven in, too. That’s the pokey bits.”

“Why ivy? Why wormwood?”

Nana sighed softly. “Ivy means endurance, faithfulness. It’s good for you, kiddo. But wormwood-”

Grace had heard from Jerome that not all the flowers were- she’d heard about this part. “What?”

“It means absence and bitter sorrow. The absolute worst kind, you know? The kind you don’t really come back from.”

Damn it. Damn them.

“I don’t believe them,” Grace decided suddenly. She wanted to slam the flowers down, to run away from this- how dare they put this on her? How could they just say something like this and not face the consequences?

(Her heart was squeezing too tight, wrung out like a sponge. How could they not come to me?)

“Kid-”

“No, I don’t believe it.” Grace thinned her lips, narrowed unseeing eyes towards where she knew the breeze came in the open window. She hoped they saw her. “I can't believe that. They’re coming back. By God, I'll drag them back kicking and screaming if I have to.”

(She took apart the bouquet carefully and kept everything- ivy, wormwood and all. She dried the flowers and put them all in separate books on her shelf for safe keeping. They’d stay there until she could figure out how to catch the idiot and smack some sense into them. Maybe the flowers would still stay after that. Maybe always.)

Nick

Nick didn’t care how long it took. He didn't care who thought he was right, who thought he was wrong, or who thought he was crazy. He’d known from the start, from the day the bombs dropped, from the day that the Dep took care of them when Carmina was coming. He knew the Dep was gonna survive. If anyone could make it through hell and back with a funny one-liner and a lopsided grin, it’d be the Dep.

He’d seen them when they were following the Captain through the countryside a few times. Something about the way they held their bow, shifted their feet, deliberated silently whenever they took a shot- it was familiar. At first Nick thought maybe he was remembering Jess Black but that wasn’t it. Actually, he didn't start putting it together until he unsuccessfully tried to get the Judge to talk to him outside his home.

The Captain had been busy and left the Judge standing awkwardly by the porch. Nick had offered them a seat, nervous around someone with no discernable eyes, but was met with silence.

That was the first clue.

“Hey, you all right in there?” He’d ventured uneasily. The Judge (the Deputy, it was Dep, he knew they couldn’t be dead, the tough son of a bitch!) hadn’t answered, simply tipped their head in just the right way and-

“Holy shit,” Nick could remember exclaiming. The Judge had shuffled back a step and he’d scrambled to recover. “Sorry, I- you remind me of-”

He never got to finish, though, because the Judge had veritably sprinted across the camp to where the Captain was beckoning for them. They’d been careful not to come near the Ryes ever since. Nick wasn’t sure how to take that.

Sure, he knew, but Nick sure as hell didn't know what to do about the fact that he knew. Everyone else- even Kim- didn’t seem to understand. They thought it was wishful thinking.

But Nick knew. He knew.

So when he caught the Judge stealthily sneaking a bunch of flowers into his barn, he didn't yell or attack.

“Ya know, you could just come in for a beer, man.” He leaned against the doorjamb, trying to appear casual. The Dep had always been skittish, and that was before a madman had locked them in with him for seven years.

The Judge whirled so fast he winced in sympathy for their back. The flowers scattered a few petals. Nick raised his hands in alarm; the Judge was panting- nearly wheezing- behind their mask.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.” He wondered if he should step inside. The Judge was darting looks over their shoulder to the nearest exit. Nick would either have to get real good at negotiation real fast, or he’d lose his only chance. “Heard you were making house calls, thought I’d check it out for myself.”

They didn’t seem pleased with that. They took two steps to the right and one back. Nick tried to step forward, but only succeeded in making the Judge leap back so far they slammed into the opposite wall. “Hey, hey, no worries, man, I’m not gonna hurt you- stop!”

They lunged to the side, towards the open barn door and Nick hurtled forward too, catching them around the elbow.

“Hey, stop okay- I know that’s you, Dep!” They stilled for only a moment, but Nick thought- stupidly, maybe- that he’d won. “It’s okay, you can come in now. It’s over- you and Cap killed Seed-”

The Judge turned and shoved him back with the hand holding the bouquet. Nick probably could have done more to stop them, but between the fact that he didn’t actually want to cause violence, and the fact that the Judge took his free hand and curled it over the flowers, he was left standing stupidly gaping, in an empty barn as they ran.

Nick Rye was never one to take shit lying down though, and he was hot on the Dep’s heels a second later. (Maybe chasing them around Hope County didn’t say “hey, it’s super safe now and I promise I won’t hurt you like the crazy guy you were locked up with for years on end,” but he was flying by the seat of his pants here.)

They’d cleared half of the yard by the time he was done tripping over his own feet, but Nick was gaining fast, and the Dep still had a fence to clear before the woodline started.

“Dep,” He screamed; his lungs felt like they were about to give out. He really was getting old. “Goddamnit Dep, stop running!”

They did not stop running.

The dirt was dry and cracked in the yard but the grass was still dewy from early that morning, and Nick saw them slip a little when they got to the fence. The entrance was actually on the other side of the barn but they probably didn’t think they could cut around the barn fast enough to get away. He could have caught them from a side entrance to the barn if they’d done that. Dep had always been too smart for their own good.

Nick lurched forward, heart dropping to the pit of his stomach, unsure of whether he was lunging to help Dep up or excited that their slip gave him a few seconds to catch up and make them stay.

But the Judge righted themselves easily and flung a hand out in his direction. Nick was lower to the ground, hand out already to try to help them up, and the dirt that flew out of their palm struck him square in the face.

“Augh!”

He twisted sideways, lost his footing and slammed his shoulder hard into the ground. It was the first time the Judge (or Dep) had ever done something to harm him.

“Fucking hell, Dep,” He called, ignoring how raw his throat felt. Dust coated his tongue. “Christ, would you just listen?”

The fence jangled. Boots hit the ground. They were getting away.

He managed to regain his sight after a moment, although tears trailed down his temples. He was having a hard time not coughing up a lung. But when he raised his head feebly, the Judge hadn't disappeared into the darkness of the forest. They were standing stock still, head tilted to that same fucking angle as always, watching him through the fence.

For a long moment, they held each other’s eyes. Nick’s shoulder ached something awful.

Finally, his hip and knee told him they wouldn’t stand being dug into the dirt any longer. He rolled over onto all fours and slowly, painfully, hauled himself up.

“That was a shitty trick, man.”

The Judge shifted on their feet, took a step back. They let out a concerned grunt. Nick decided to think it was concerned, anyway. He chuckled lightly and dusted his hands off on his jeans. “Nah, I’m good. Just the joints- they don’t work exactly like they used to, is all.”

The Judge took another step back and joined their hands together at their middle, making sharp, small movements with them. It took a second for it to register with Nick.

“Aw hell, don’t get so worried,” Nick reassured them, rubbing the back of his neck. It was never easy dealing with a nervous Dep. “Ya didn’t hurt me- stop wringing your hands man, you’re freakin’ me out.”

Another grunt. The Judge gestured to the house.

Nick perked up. “Hey, yeah, I’ll go in- but you gotta come with me, okay?”

They shook their head so vigorously there was an audibly crack. Another step back, and they pointed to the ground, then Nick and finally themselves.

“I’m tellin’ you, you didn’t hurt me. You can come in, Dep. You can come on home.”

The noise they let out was as close to a wail as anything Nick had ever heard; it bubbled forth from somewhere deep and warbled in the air. The pitch grew and grew for agonizing moments before the Judge dropped their head in their hands, shaking, and cut themselves off.

It was the worst thing he’d ever heard.

“Hey,” he soothed quietly, shifting forward an inch. He held out his hands, palms out, and tried to make himself as non threatening as possible. “Hey, it’s okay, see? You’re oka-”

The Dep jerked their head up towards him and Nick froze. He was still holding the bedraggled remains of his flowers in his dirt covered right hand. They seemed to zero in on the torn blossoms, and they let out a low-pitched sob behind that damn mask. Their hands clutched the sides of their head for a moment, squeezing violently.

Then the Judge turned and sprinted for the forest. They were gone in seconds.

“Shit.” He muttered, pulling his cap off and running his hand through his hair. “Fuck. Shit. I fucked that up.”

Kim was kind enough to only glare a little when he presented the torn up blossoms and grumbled out the details. She thumped the book down in his lap and stormed off to the kitchen. That was fair enough he guessed.

Nick wrote the meanings out this time- he knew Kim hated that her flowers had died months ago. He’d caught her flipping through the book just to read the same descriptions over and over again. She did it when she couldn't sleep.

Myrtle meant love or affection, and peonies wished the receiving party a happy marriage or life. Snowdrops meant hope. Bells of Ireland, which took him forever to find, were meant to tell him good luck in life. Pine needles, which were threaded through the stems, could mean either hope or pity. Nick hoped it wasn't the latter.

The last flower was something called a rainflower. It didn't look very intimidating, but Nick’s throat still closed when he read the description.

Rainflower- often taken to mean “I must atone for my sins, I will never forget you.”

“Goddamnit Dep.” He pushed shaking fingers through his hair again and tugged, letting the burning in his scalp turn his thoughts from the burning in his eyes. “Why can't you just, for once, let someone help you?”

(He put the flowers in the same vase Kim had- she hadn't moved it from their bedside table. Maybe she’d been waiting for his turn. Maybe she’d just been hoping that if the vase stayed, the Dep would have to come back and give them more flowers to fill it. Nick knew that’s what he’d been naive enough to wish for.)

Carmina

Carmina found them paying unexpected respects at Rush’s grave. There had not been any sightings of them, hide nor hair, since her father tried to convince them to come back.

They were still wearing that thick, furred coat even in the heat. Summer was in full swing. She worried about heat stroke.

(Heat stroke wouldn't matter if she couldn’t get them to listen. They’d die of exposure or bears or starvation if they didn’t quit this stupid running schtick.)

“Deputy,” Carmina called softly, letting her footfalls sound louder than they usually did. She wasn't eager to get shot full of arrows because the person her parents told her so much about got jumpy.

The Deputy was standing over Rush’s grave silently in the fading light. She couldn’t see their hands- they were standing with their arms held in front of them, maybe clasping their hands. She didn’t know if they ever prayed.

They stiffened at her voice but didn’t turn. They didn’t run.

“Deputy, we all know that’s you in there.” She inched forward cautiously, as if the person in front of her was the scared child, not her. They shook their head and made a rasping groan of denial.

“Yes, you are.” Carmina admonished gently. “You’re not the Judge. You’re not anything he made you.”

The Deputy looked at her then and Carmina’s heart clenched tight. Their mask was covered in grime, caked in dirt and blood. There were cracks and fissure in the material (was it wood? Plastic? She could never get close enough to tell). Their neck was stained with what was either tear-tracks or sweat. Maybe both. Their jacket was spattered with gore and stank to high heaven- the Dep probably hadn’t bathed in at least a few days, simply hunting and foraging and picking flowers instead. They were holding a few lilies- flowers for a grave.

One of the lenses in the mask was missing. Through the hole it created Carmina could finally see one bright eye. It blinked at her. The Deputy shook their head.

“He’s gone,” Carmina stepped even closer. They didn’t move. She risked a hand on their bicep; she could feel them trembling. “It’s over. You made sure of that.”

With her other hand, Carmina pressed the bunch of flowers she’d brought into the Deputy’s palms.

“Rose leaves say you can hope,” Carmina explained gently- unneeded, to be sure, but she had the idea that if she stopped talking the Dep might just book it. “And tea roses say we’ll never forget you. Stock, for the bonds of affection and to remind you you’ll always be with us. Star of Bethlehem for “reconciliation.” White jasmine for “sweet love,” and goldenrod for “encouragement.” And finally-”

She pulled one stem from the rest and reached to tuck it, safe and sound, into the hood and behind the Deputy’s ear. “White daisies: for rebirth.”

The Deputy moaned quietly and dropped their head. Their shoulders quaked as they sobbed weakly behind the mask. Carmina held them lightly, carefully, against her shoulder. She turned her head to speak directly into their ear. “It’s okay now, Dep. It’s time to come in from the cold. It’s time to come home.”

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