Two BG3 lesbians walk into a tavern and don't talk to each other because they're shy

@artbytesslyn

Insatiable ( Jungkook x OC) Chapter 7

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!!

Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3    Chapter 4  Chapter 5   Chapter 6

Chapter 7

“I love this...” I whispered, arms wrapped around his neck, staring up into Jungkooks face as he rocked his hips against mine , hands stroking my hips gently as the hard length of him dragged inside me , almost gentle as he placed soft kisses on my brow. 

“What? “ he smiled. 

“You inside me... it feels.. i feel complete somehow..” 

He smiled sweetly, kissing the corner of my lips. 

“You’re so warm and wet and I think you’re perfect.” He breathed against my cheeks, pillow soft lips pressing smooches down my jaw and up to my lobe. 

“I liked ...tonight. “I said shyly and he grimaced.

“I may have gone a little overboard..” He said sheepishly, grunting as he thrust a little harder and I closed my eyes , savoring the feeling of him inside me. 

“But I liked it. Liked that I couldn’t even watch the fireworks because of ...well another kind of fireworks..” I laughed.

He grinned.

“ I aim to please.” 

“Good. Then why dont you hurry up and fuck me like you mean it.” I said with a wink and his eyes narrowed, flashing red.

“You never learn, do you angel?” 

I laughed as he pulled out and flipped me over, fingers sinking into hair, hand gripping my waist as he rove straight into me with a force that shook the bed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“On a scale of one to ten, how mad would your siblings be if you don’t go back to your bed tonight?” Jungkook whispered, burying his face in the slightly damp strands of my hair, breathing deeply before going back to running a small fluffy towel through the strands. 

I stared up at the ceiling , eyes at half mast because I was so sleepy, still pleasantly warm from the hot bath I’d just had . I was dressed in one of Jungkook’s big white t shirts , lying sideways on his bed with my head hanging over the edge because y hair was still wet. Jungkook being the perfect man that he was , was towel drying my wet locks for me. 

“Probably a twenty?” I grimaced. “ I need to be up early to go down to the kitchen. We’re taking the kids out to the park remember?” 

Jungkook groaned.

“Minae needs to be kept away from the sugar ... I am not going to piggy back her for two straight hours like yesterday.” He swore. 

i laughed, rolling over and smiling at him. 

“ She has a crush on you.” I grinned, waggling my eyebrows at him. 

He shook his head laughing. 

“I’m too old to be dealing with four year olds that have a crush on me., “He shuddered. I smiled, shaking my head because , Jungkook was the one who had begun helping out with the children and he was often the first to offer a piggyback ride to the kids. 

Being a single father, I knew he had experience with kids, of course. But still it was quite something watching him handle them with confident hands and a ridiculously kind disposition. And he didn’t shy away from  anything. Changing toddlers out of nappies, cleaning spit up off my office desk , even offering his nails for the smitten Minae to color with her markers.  

And it felt good to have him around, his presence somehow grounding me even during the most hectic of times. Story time with Mr. Jeon,  was fast becoming a thing, with Jungkook gathering all the younglings around him in a circle and regaling them with tales from his life ( a toned down, child friendly version of it of course ) while I set up the beds in the nap room, every afternoon. 

The kids slept for about an hour every afternoon and that was the time we ate our lunch, the workers heading off to the kitchen while Jungkook and I shared a meal cook sent up for us. The small stone bench on the yard was right outside the window of the nap room, and leaving the window open helped us keep an eye on the kids while we ate. 

Not too mention the effect it had on Joo Won. 

Although he spent most of his time with Somi and Jimin in the other cottage , learning his number work and language skills, he occasionally ran up to his father, eager to show off his work. Jungkook always dropped whatever he was doing to shower praises on his son and the boy thrived under the attention. 

The idea that I could do this with him for the rest of my life, was impossible to push out of  my head. 

But i wouldn’t bring it up. 

I would enjoy this , now while I had it and I would wait for him of course but I wasn’t going to play games with him. 

“I’m not meeting anyone else anymore.” I said quietly. 

He gave me a look. 

“anyone as in?..”

“Any vampires. potential suitors” I said with a shrug. “ I’m not going to. I’m going to tell my father I’m... not interested in it anymore.” 

Jungkook stopped his ministrations and gave me a guilty laden look.

“Sera, about tonight-”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” I glared at him. “ I loved it. I love you , as I’ve told you often enough and I also understand that you’re not there yet. and I can wait.”

Jungkook looked away.

“That’s not fair to you.” He said hoarsely.

“Maybe. But it’s still my choice. And My life. And if I choose to spend that life pining over you for the rest of eternity , that’s upto me.” I shrugged. 

He merely stared at me, lips turned down in a frown. 

“You’re too young to understand what you’re asking for Sera. You don’t realize how powerful you are. I’m not... I’m not good enough for you.” He shook his head. “ Far from it.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“What does that even mean? You’re a vampire. There’s literally nothing that stops us from being together than your twisted belief that you aren’t good enough. Which is so baseless I could laugh. ”

Jungkook stared at me. 

“It’s not just about me. What about the kind of power you would have with the right vampire? not to mention the people in my life that  would want me fucking dead sera? You think everyone would just let it go? Me , a fucking nobody marrying the most adored girl in  our kind???  ” he laughed in disbelief. 

i frowned. 

“What do you mean ?”

Jungkook opened his mouth to elaborate but the door to his bedroom slammed open at that exact same moment and I jumped, terrified. Scrambling to my knees, I crawled back to the headboard just as Jungkook swore, moving to the door , bodychecking the figure that crashed through. 

“JEON FUCKING JUNGKOOK GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!!!!!” 

I felt my eyes widen in horror as my brother in law launched himself across the room, fingers closing right around Jungkook’s neck as he rammed into him, the two of them skidding across the floor and crashing into the ornate fireplace with a noise loud enough to wake the dead.

I stared, my brain unable to process what I was seeing. 

My sister appeared, eyes wild and panicked.

“Oh God... Sera I’m so sorry...he came to your room and saw you were gone...” she began but then stopped.  

Her eyes fell on the pandemonium in the corner and she yelped. 

“jIMIN!!!!” She screamed, rushing to the corner where the two vampires were locked together in a scuffle and the only thing I could think about was the fact that I was naked underneath his t shirt and if anyone else walked in-

“What is this ruckus?” The loud booming noise was familiar and terrifying and i squeaked, diving for the covers and crawling in as I stared horrified. The figure that appeared in the doorway was so imposing that all of us went still. Even Jungkook’s eyes widened as he took in the gargantuan man framed in the entryway. 

Hwang Jaebum was seven feet tall, 1800 years old and the scariest Vampire i had ever seen in my entire life. His skin was shriveled , his eyes permanently red and he stared at the two fighting vampires , now frozen and gawking at the towering vampire and he scrunched his nose in disgust before his red eyes flashed and landed on me. 

“There you are.” He said softly. “Sweet Seraphina.” 

The name, God.

 My uncle had named me and no one called me that but him. 

I swallowed, clutching the covers as sheer unadulterated terror coursed through my veins. I knew my uncle wouldn’t hurt me but still, power radiated off him in waves and I did not want to be on the receiving end of his displeasure. 

“Come here , child. Let me look at you.” 

I winced. 

Before I could react though, Jungkook was climbing on the bed, scrabbling to kneel right in front of me, arms stretched out to keep me from the vampire’s view. 

“Who the fuck are you?” He snarled and I gasped, stunned. God, Uncle Jae had killed people for less. 

I grabbed Jungkook quickly, pulling him back into my arms and away from the vampire who now looked suitably furious. 

“That’s my uncle. Shut up.” I hissed quickly. Jungkook didn’t show any sign of backing down, still crouched in front of me, muscles locked in a fighting stance and I clutched his shoulders, burying my face in his back. 

“Jungkook relax...” I begged but he merely grabbed my hand where it lay wrapped on his waist, squeezing gently. 

“It’s okay baby, I’m here.” He was still glaring at my uncle who peered over him to lock eyes with me. 

“Who is this? Why are you in his bed, Seraphina? “ My Uncles’ voice rumbled through the room, echoing off the rafters and Jimin and Somi scrambled to their feet. 

“Sire.... We didn’t know you were here already..” Jimin began, moving to stand in front of him but Jaebum ignored him, moving closer to the bed. 

“Who are you? Tell me now.” He snarled. 

I stared at the anger flashing in my uncle’s eyes  and I swallowed. 

“He is her intended, brother.” My father’s voice came from the doorway and i jumped a bit, staring over at the door. 

My father came floating in, face calm but eyes narrowed in annoyance as he stared at me. I found myself wilting under the glare. He was upset, Rightfully so. 

My uncle frowned, glancing at my father in disbelief. 

“She is betrothed?” He frowned. “ Why was I not informed of this?” 

My father gave him a reassuring smile.

“It is fairly new, this courtship. Jungkook and Sera are very fond of each other and they have my blessing.”

Next to me Jungkook had gone as pale as parchment. He moved up and away from me and my entire body went cold. 

I reached for his hand, flinching when he yanked it away.

Fuck.

Fuck. 

“I need to speak to the boy. What is your name boy?” My uncle growled at Jungkook. 

“Jeon Jungkook , sire.:”

He frowned.

“What clan are you from?” 

I flinched.

My father looked a little uncomfortable.

“Surely we can talk about this-”

“I was bitten , Sire.It’s just me and my son, now.” Jungkook’s voice was deep and steady and he stared right at my uncle. 

Uncle Jae’s eyes widened and then he stared at me.

“That is what you will settle for , Seraphina? A mongrel with tainted blood?” 

The sharp sound of hurt that came from Jungkook shattered my heart. 

But it was my father who growled, affronted. 

“That is enough. You are a guest , Jaebum and I will not have you insulting my daughter’s betrothed. Leave him be.”

My uncle laughed.

“It is not an insult. It is a fact...is it not, boy? Look at him... he knows his place. And it not by  her  side.” 

“Jungkook, don’t listen to him ...” i whispered feverishly , reaching for him again not letting him pull away and gripping his fingers hard. His fingers felt icy cold to the touch and there was no mistaking the sheer hurt radiating off his features. 

“Unless the girl is in trouble, I think you should sever the connection, Jaehyun.” My uncle snapped at my father . 

“We shall talk about this later. For now, I want you to remember your place, Jaebum. You have duties to attend to and my daughter’s choice is her own. I will not have you interfering in things that you aren’t responsible for.” My father’s voice was just as loud, radiated just as much authority and i had never loved him more. 

Jaebum scoffed once again before turning on his heel and leaving . I sagged in relief and Jungkook, got off the bed, moving away from me so quickly I felt like someone had stuck a knife in my gut. 

“Jimin and Somi, come. Jungkook , Sera. I want the two of you to come to my office after you fix yourself up.” My father said coldly. 

“Yes, Sir.” Jungkook bowed. 

“Yes,  father.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Father....I...”

“You slept with him. “ My father said thoughtfully and I stared at my feet. There was no point denying it. 

“Has he agreed to court you?” He said sharply. 

I looked up at him, biting my lips.

“No.” I whispered.

My father’s eyes widened and he shot me a glare that could melt gold. 

“He fed from you during the act?” He demanded. I felt the phantom throb in my thighs at the memory. 

“Yes, father. “ I admitted.

“Then I must ask. Was it consensual?  Did you influence him in any way Seraphina.” 

My heart turned over, tears springing at the accusation. 

“No... No .. I didn’t.. he doesn’t know.. he doesn’t even know I can do that.” I whispered. 

“Could you have done it unconsciously? If Jungkook fed from you and you were near him you could have convinced him to do anything. He wouldn’t have been able to consent. You know this, Sera. I don’t understand how you could be so reckless. We are not monsters. We know our limits and we stick to them for fuck’s sake.” 

“He... we... I... It’s my fault. He didn’t.. He didn’t want to court me so I convinced him we could just...fool around. That was all it was. He loves his son father. He’s only here to give him a better life. I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry for being so selfish and ..Please just don’t send him away. I’ll never meet him again if that’s what you want but please....don’t send him away. .” I stared at my father, feeling the tears sting. 

My father’s gaze softened but he sighed, shaking his head as he held his arm out. I walked into his embrace, letting the tears fall as I clutched his robe. 

“You have not been selfish, dearest. . But, no matter who are, we cannot covet what we are never meant to have . Jungkook is not for you.” He whispered into my hair and I felt my insides clench in rebellion, every part of me screaming in protest at the phrase. 

No.. No... he was mine.. he had to be mine....

I was his and he was mine.

“ I’m going to offer him the position as head of the security team.” My father aid gently and I shuddered. 

“Father..”

“It will pay well. He will be working from the administrative building close to me. . There’s no reason for your paths to cross. Namjoon will take over as your bodyguard from tomorrow.” 

i nodded. 

“I want you to remember who you are. What you are capable of. I raised you to be kind and gentle but that does not change who you are, Sera. It doesn’t change what you are.” he said gently, eyes firm. 

I swallowed.

“You may leave.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook stared at the whiskey decanter on the table. watching Sera’s father pour him a drink. His eyes focused on the golden liquid, the way it caught the light and danced with all the colors of autumn. 

“I’m going to ask you one thing. I want you to answer me, as truth fully as you would your own father.” 

Jungkook was a father, himself. He knew the anger and trepidation in the man’s gaze was real. He knew exactly what it felt like, that desperate clawing need to keep your child safe. To destroy anything that dare hurt them. 

“Do you love my daughter?” The man’s voice shook a little. 

“I cannot court her.” He whispered. “ I’m not... I can’t. “

“That is not what i asked .” The older man said gently. 

He shook his head.

“I don’t have the right to feel anything but respect for her, sir.” Jungkook said softly. 

The vampire shook his head laughing.

“Your eyes tell me all you refuse to say, Jungkook ah. You care deeply for her, do you not?  it is obvious in the tremble of your hand. it was obvious in the way you stood up to my brother, when surely everything in your blood must’ve screamed to back away from a Vampire of such a high ranking. ” 

Jungkook clenched his fists. 

Sera’s father went on. 

“I know you love her and honestly, If you didn’t.... you wouldn’t be alive right now.” 

Jungkook winced. 

“Yes , sir.” He croaked. 

“I will destroy entire continents for my daughter. You know this. “ He said quietly. 

Jungkook nodded. He believed the man . 

“Which is why I must ask. Who is after you?”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped up, eyes widening in surprise. 

“Sir...”

“I’m not the head of the largest clan in the country for nothing. You are protecting your son...but from what? A man of your reputation , choosing to stay inside an estate , helping out with infants and children.... it doesn’t make sense. So tell me. What are you hiding from? And how can I help?” 

Jungkook stared at his hands. 

“It’s Joowon’s grandfather. The man who’s daughter I killed.” 

Sera’s father stiffened. 

“Ahh... yes. Gong Tae Kwan. An old nemesis .” He shook his head, sighing. “ You’ve made a powerful enemy , Jungkook.”

Jungkook nodded.

“I know. I’m no match for him. And I know he’s  not going to stop until he kills me and my son.” 

“You’re right. He’s not going to stop. Now, what so you want to do? Hide out till he finally catches up or confront him like the warrior you are?” 

“i can’t do it. I need to be here for Joo Won.... It would be suicidal...”

“ Only if you’re alone. “

“Sir?”

“It would be suicidal , if you were to confront him alone.” 

“Are you saying that...”

“I’m going to be there with you. We are going to lure the bastard out , and we are going to end this once and for all.”

“Sir, i can’t ask you to...”

“You’re not asking me damn thing kid. I’m doing this for my daughter’s sake. And you are going to repay me by making her as happy as you possibly can.” He said sternly. 

Jungkook flushed

“Sir.. I’m sorry I...”

“When this ends, and it will....you will court her. You will court her, because unlike what you think, you do not get to decide whether you’re worthy of being my daughter’s consort. She does.” He gave him a smile, reaching out and clamping a hand on his shoulder. “  If she chooses you it means you’re worthy. And she has chosen you , Jeon Jungkook . Don’t be the idiot who walks away from the best thing to ever happen to him, son. ” 

Jungkook stared at him.

He took a deep breath. 

“Yes, father.” He said with a small smile. 

The older man laughed out loud. 

“Excellent. Now come, we have a murder to plot. “ 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Well....now the plot picks up... :D :D feedback is always welcomed !! Come scream with me about how amazing Sera’s father is!!!!

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Harness & Spears

Chapter 5: Father’s Eyes

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Researching for a case a year after they quit first feels weird to Sam, he has to get used to all the programs, his usual agenda. Today it’s so much easier with some computer skills. No more libraries, no more grainy scans of articles in local papers. Today, you just have to open a search engine app on your phone or a computer and you will be able to find dozens of cases in an hour or two. Of course, there’s still the work of sorting the wheat from the chaff, but Jack is a big help. They sit in the library together and go search for cases. Cas is really sweet to them, just like a butler he offers hot beverages and sandwiches, even though Sam must really hold him back to go full on “Yes, sir”. They want a case, and there are hundreds of them, but also, after Jack became God he brought all the hunters back that Chuck had banished. Donna and Jody, a couple now, as they announced just months after Jack’s ascend, and her girls, all in the hunter business. They heard from Eileen sporadically, but after all that happened and how uneasy Sam felt about the whole manipulation (and he was absolutely certain Chuck pulled the strings there, even though, when they originally met, Sam was drawn to her - but nothing more), she kept her distance and operated in Ireland and also all over Europe. The hunters from the other universe also just hunted in small groups. Charlie and her girlfriend retired for good. And Sam was still bitter about his own behaviour - projecting ‘his’ Charlie on this woman, who was so much different. He knew she hacked some computers every now and then to prank some potential Dicks. Sam was connected to the hunters, most of them. He has been clear about him and Dean, Cas (and later Jack) not going hunting anymore. But now things changed and Sam needed to check if any other hunters were on the cases him and Jack might find interesting. Running in another couple of hunting buddies is not a problem on a personal level, but the mutual sabotage will happen. It’s Murphy’s Law. That’s why Sam has a plan. They will take cases other hunters wouldn’t like to do. There are several reasons for hunting in the first place and reasons which cases to pursue and which not. Let noble monster hunting and cleansing the world be some hunter’s motivation, revenge, the thrill (some people really were that sick and hunted monsters for the kicks) and of course. The money. Oh yes, the money. But the Winchester conglomerate doesn’t worry about money, that’s why Sam won’t look for cases that have to do with wealthy people or towns announcing rewards. Also, when he knew the kind of monster and that a lot of hunters were after these creatures for killing their kin or loved ones, he better didn’t interfere. You could hunt monsters for their venom or psychic abilities, their blessings or whatever. Something a friend of Dean did not so long ago and got himself killed for it.

It shouldn’t be anything exotic, the New Age brought new monsters, at least that’s what Jack says.

“I was God, yes, and I knew everything that Chuck knew, but believe it or not, not even Chuck knew all of his creatures. His mind is packed with the stuff he wanted to do or not to do - if you ask me he was a little like George R. R. Martin. Got lost in his own massive universe and all the detail. I tried to give all of it structure, that’s why some things on Earth changed, but after some time I thought my head would explode and I uh, outsourced some good stuff in new universes. Amara is way better in doing all of that, she created way more universes and new forms of life as I did. She and her brother - don’t get me started.”

Jack looks exhausted. “Does it sound weird, Sam? That I wanted to be down here with you, all of you, but especially you, and give Amara all that power?”

Sam smiles about Jack’s outbreak and that he obviously read Game of Thrones. “No, it’s not weird. You were with Amara and I bet she’s very pleasant company but she wasn’t what you longed for. You didn’t want to be God who’s in every drop of rain, and all that. It was noble and pure hearted and generous of you to try, but you were allowed to fail. But, speaking of Game of Thrones, I have a few questions regarding--”

Sam is rudely interrupted in his chatter with Jack when Dean comes into the library and sits down two chairs away from Jack. Jack immediately gets up.

“Uh, Sam, I will -errm, go pack my bags. I think you will find a good case.”

Sam sighs.

“I’ll be with you soon, baby. Just gimme a minute.”

Jack is quick as a flash and out of sight within seconds.

Dean scoffs while thudding his mug on the table. Coffee pours out and stains the wood.

“Easy on the furniture Dean, it’s not your enemy”, Sam says without looking up. He can’t show Dean his face right now or he will just erupt. He feels the heat in his cheeks and a hot tickle up his neck. Since Dean threw a mug after Sam yesterday they haven’t seen each other and to be frank, Sam could totally renounce any other encounter with Dean for a while. Plus, Sam has a hickey, because Jack went a little passionate, clingy and possessive last night, for whatever reason.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you and… baby. ” The last word is like venom. As always. Dean wants to start another fight.

“I remember that I heard you calling Cas ‘daddy’ multiple times. You think that was really soothing for my wild imagination?”

“You call Jack what he is. A baby.”

“Another word, Dean, and you know I’ll knock you out. I have enough of your bullshit. You act like a jealous housewife. No, wait, more like a cuck!”

Dean scoffs and leaves.

“Do whatever you want, but don’t do it when I’m around or I’ll tear him apart.”

Sam sits here in shock. He has heard a lot from Dean about Jack, he has always been nasty to him and yes, even threatened to kill him twice, even was willing to execute him as part of Chuck’s evil plan. Yes, he was bitter about Mary and hell, how bitter Dean has been as Jack brought so many people back. All the ‘others’: Bobby and Charlie with her girlfriend. All these people. He brought Eileen back, and Dean thought it was to make Sam happy (and yes, that has been Jack’s intention, but ultimately it didn’t) and he was resistant to the arguments, that Mary was happy with John, she didn’t want to go back in this world she never felt like she fit in. He couldn’t be comforted by the messages Jack as a medium brought to Dean, that Mary loved him no matter what and that she will be happy when they meet again. Nothing could’ve soothed Dean’s aching. Sam understands that he’s hurt, but now, it just feels like Dean is angry at Jack for simply existing and then being so bold to love Sam.

Jack brought Cas back for Dean. He had risked a feud with the Empty that could only be avoided by Amara and Jack forcefully put the Regent of the Empty asleep. The Empty wasn’t sealed though, Rowena still reigned in hell, and still demons went to the Empty. But there are no angels on Earth anymore, Jack has naphil powers and even Cas regained some faint strength back, but Jack didn’t make new angels.

Jack really built a world in which it was possible for Dean and Cas to be together, he risked being invaded and maybe killed, since no one knows how really powerful the Empty was.

Why is nothing Jack does, no matter how universe shattering, unbelievably cosmic and holy and insane it is, not finally letting Dean the old grudge go?

It seems like everything he does just makes it worse.

Sam hides his face and in the safety of his own palms he allows to cry in fear for his own spiteful brother and soulmate. This will end badly if they don’t find a way to reconcile.

“You have to stop that, Dean” Cas says when Dean is back in the Deancave.

Cas is in his robe, nothing beneath. He looks pale and a little skinny. The last weeks have been hard on him and Dean knows it’s his fault. He makes his angel boyfriend sick. And yet he’s sick himself, and he’s kicking and fighting, with talons and teeth, words and throwing things after his brother. Also, he erupts the second Cas dares to mention it.

“Stop with what?”, he asks.

He picks the remote and wants to turn on the TV, loud metal music blasting but with a snap of a finger, the TV silent and it won’t turn back on.

“Castiel. Don’t fuck with me, I swear, I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re ‘not in the mood’ for weeks, maybe months. Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? Why won’t you let me help?”

Dean’s eyes narrow dangerously as he faces the seraph.

“Help? How could you help? My brother fucks a toddler.”

Cas sighs and it sounds so endlessly sad. Defeated. Dean doesn’t want to see it, acknowledge it, that he is indeed very wrong. Jack is no toddler, Jack is no brat, Jack is so mighty he could really smite the whole bunker with a hiccup still, even though he’s not God anymore. Dean should be so damn careful. Dean should see how much Jack begs for his forgiveness and his approval.

But Dean can’t. And Dean won’t.

“Dean.”

Dean is so full of sorrow and fear, it hurts to hear his own name so gentle, so loving yet somehow fatherly. Cas loves him and Dean should be happy. He has been happy. The Empty had taken him away and Jack had fought to get him back. So they could be a family.

But this isn’t family to Dean. He’s around the person he loves the most, the person he loves with a burning, blinding insanity. He will never be happy like this.

Cas dares to come closer, around two steps away, offers Dean a hand. Dean can’t even look at him but he takes Cas’s hand and then pulls him in a desperate embrace.

“Shit, ‘m sorry, Cas. I don’t want to fight with you.”

It’s been a while, actually the last time Dean slept with Cas was the night when Jack asked him if Sam gay. This question is carved under his skin and if you look closely, you can see them shine through like thin red scars.

The streak won’t break today either.

“Will he ever stop hating me?”, Jack asks.

He has his suitcase packed, same as a backpack with snacks, water, headphones, his teddy Marvelous Marvin, a powerbank and, something he’s very proud of - his own angel blade. The only angels on earth are Jack and Castiel but the blade kills monsters just as well. He kneads the bundle of the purple blanket in his lap when he looks up to Sam.

Sam’s still tense from before, his eyes red and narrow, Sam must look like he didn’t sleep much or has been on a bender.

“I don’t know… I wish I knew what’s wrong with him.”

With a deep sigh Sam sinks beside Jack on the mattress. The bed creaks and a spring nudges in Sam’s butt cheek. Either they need a new mattress or they move in a room together, but Sam doesn’t dare to talk about these things yet. So far, he’s happy about the privacy. But he’s also constantly longing for Jack - a stalemate.

Jack leans against Sam’s shoulder and shyly feels for Sam’s hand. Sam is too glad to take it, intertwine their fingers and kiss Jack’s knuckles.

“It makes me sick, Sam. I’m afraid all the time he’s around. I’m afraid he might want to…”

“Hurt you?”

Jack nods, his lips a thin line.

“I won’t let him. And most of all, you won’t let him. Right?”

Another silent nod.

“Don’t worry about it now, our bags are packed and I found a case. I told you about the parameters I used to find a case no one else would investigate, and this one here is especially weird, but not weird enough for us to follow, and a bit boring, but not boring enough for us to NOT follow it. We’ve been to haunted houses before, right?”

“Yes, it’s mostly vengeful spirits or poltergeists, right?”

Sam nods. “Yes, exactly. Sometimes triggered by the plans of tearing the house down, the same can happen with big bodies of water, when they are threatened to be dried out, spirits of people who drowned will start going on a rampage. Haunted houses are like level 1 of every hunter. Rocksalt, shotgun, holy water, fire. Boom, ghost gone.”

Jack frowns a little. “Really, we’re going on a case that any newbie hunter could solve?”

Sam chuckles.

“Yep.”

It’s absolutely a thinly veiled reason to go on a hunt, but it’s the same that Dean and Cas did weeks ago when Jack sneaked out. In the end they also ‘just’ took on a vampire nest with five vamps and their Creator and the rest of the time they had a blast in Vegas, why should Sam not do the same? He wants to be alone with Jack, because Dean definitely ruined the pleasant experience of the tantra massage. Sam had been so happy back then and oh, crap, he was close to do more to Jack than just the massage. He wouldn’t have slept with him on this massage table, that was utterly uncomfortable, but he had been turned on so bad, that didn’t happen very often.

Sam really falls for Jack deeply and seriously. It’s a wonderful and frightening feeling at the same time.

Jack slides on Sam’s lap and straddles him, arms tight around his neck. Jack squints a little when he’s so close, his big blue eyes will never cease to amaze Sam.

“How can you not be Castiel’s son?”, Sam blurts, his hands cupping the naphil’s face and brushing away some strands of hair.

Jack’s mouth opens slightly, his tongue sneaks out to lick his upper lip.

“I am Castiel’s son.”

“I know, I just mean, genetically. You have his eyes. Does that sound stupid, baby?”

Jack shakes his head with a grin, his neck and face turn tenderly pink.

How did the biggest monster of all create this perfect boy?

“No, not stupid. I like the way you look at me”, Jack silently admits and the blush turns berry red.

“How do I look at you?”

Sam kisses Jack’s parted lips, feels the hitched breath and how Jack tightens up his back.

“First you looked at me with fear, when I was born. Then you looked at me in sympathy, in worry… Then gentle, loving. Just now, longing… You see a man, not a child, right? That’s the look in your face how you look at someone beautiful you want to be with…?”

Sam’s big hands creep under Jack’s pullover and Jack sighs, a light shudder down his spine and this tiny, quiet noise of content.

“You are beautiful, and yes, I want to be with you. All the time”, Sam whispers, he sounds rough, feels like he needs to clear his throat.

Jack lays his hands on Sam’s and guides him down his sweatpants. Sam squeezes. A slight gasp.

“We will have a lot of time for fun stuff once we’re out of here.”

That makes Jack jerk up, jump and drag Sam on his feet.

“Come, Sam! I can’t wait to be out of here.”

Objection!: Chapter 25

Chapter title: But Can You Brave What You Most Fear?

A/n: I HAVE HAD THAT ENDING SECTION WRITTEN FOR MONTHS AND I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE EXCITED. LOOK THE REST OF THE CHAPTER IS ABSOLUTE TRASH AND I KNOW THAT BUT I LOVE THEM AND IM SO SORRY THAT THIS STORY SUCKS

First | Previous | Next

words: 5000

summary: Tensions run high as the courthouse is under siege

pairings: Eventual logicality, prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene,  murder, gun mention, guns, swearing, abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol, shooting, crying

Ao3 Link  

“Liam quiet!” Patton shushes him, keeping a steady eye on his friends. Regretfully he ushers the man towards him, hearing the frantic sounds growing loud as they approach their location. “Its locked, come on” He pleads, Emile finally calmer, trying now to stay calm for the two children. Liam bangs once more on the door but huffs as he joins the group.

“What's the plan?” He spits, ignoring the clear animosity they emanate towards him. Emile pulls out his phone, Willow follows suit, both in frustrated shaking of their devices. Patton swallows trying his, ignoring the photo that tugs at his heart. Logan and him smiling, the twins giggling as they control the men, he shakes away his thoughts trying the numbers.

“Nothing” Patton notes, shoving the reminder back into his pocket. “We need to get out of the open” He cautions, Remus stifles a scared sniffle, reaching for his father. Patton takes him in a heartbeat, cradling the fear-stricken child. Valerie nuzzles comfortably into Diana, her tears staining the lawyers suit.

“Maybe we can find some others?” Emile suggests, his eyes examining the world around him. Patton clicks his tongue, Emile recognizes the face.

“I fear we might be the only people…” He covers Remus’s ears, Diana follows with a confused Valerie “Still alive… and I fear thats exactly how they want it” Patton sighs, wishing he had not ignored so many tell-tale signs. His happiness, this unfiltered joy, he didn't get it, he didn't deserve it, and he sure as hell wasn't feeling it right now. After a petrified moment of silent realization the group moved quickly, the hallowed halls leaving a different sense in the lawyer.

“We should split up” Liam offers, Emile rolls his eyes in a scoff, the remnants of his tears stinging. “We can look for different exits! Its not a bad idea” He whispers his last part, was that...embarrassment? Patton focuses on Remus, the young boys breathing worried the father, soft kisses upon his forehead as the pair argue about Liam's idea. After a resilient ‘Fine’ from Emile, Liam claps his hands. “We have five people, excluding the twins-

“Six” They turn, a breath of relief as James waves. “Looking for an even number?” He jokes through staggered breaths. Patton smiles, a sad twitch but alas. The way he takes charge of the group, overpowering Liam easily brought a happy satisfaction to the father. That was until he made his pairings. “Willow and Diana, go look for exits through the courtrooms” They nod, Patton ignores the soft affection he thinks he witnesses. “Patton, you take the twins and uh… Liam, look through the courtyard and towards the back” The first part made sense, he wasn't leaving his children. He wasn't here to argue, he couldn't upset the children more. Diana, after an apologetic look, secures Valerie in Liams arms. No man should look so disgusted by a child, and yet Liam looked as though he might faint. “Emile and I will look towards the main entrance, the police should have already been alerted. Look above all, stay safe ok?” James squeezes Patton's arm, a comfort as they part.

“Hey, you stay safe ok?” Emile takes Patton aside, He looks the lawyer in his sparkless blue eyes. “Above all, its you and the twins. If it comes down to it…” He glances to Liam, the man stands trying to figure out how to hold a child, the anxiety rises fast in Patton. “Leave him behind, I love you and he is not worth it. Pat?” Emile refocuses the man, Patton agrees knowing he could never do that. They split easily and quietly, each group traversing through the halls.

“So Logan...” Liam begins as the two creep through the offices. Patton scoffs, turning to him, fear hitting him as he looks upon Liam's face.

“Really? Right now?” He questions, this pure hatred wasn't him but at this moment he wanted nothing more than to be home and not here, with...him. Liam shrugs, what else were they going to talk about? How could Patton had fallen for that face so many times, now he simply felt sick, he wanted nothing more than to see Logan. Wake up from this nightmare, his children running to wake him up, Logan's arm lay over him. “Liam, I cant do this...ever...now” Patton falls again, any bit of confidence he had built up...shattered.

“Yes now” A sultry whisper, when did Liam get so close. Patton pushes him away, only a nudge as he remembers Valerie. “Sucks to suck” Liam laughs, god that sound...it pierced. “Come on cupcake, lets be honest, you miss me” Liam tickles, Patton yelps, jumping away. Valerie shrieks as Liam squeezes too hard, she manages to scramble away finding herself safe behind Patton.

“Come here angel” He mumbles, lifting her up, though harder to carry both, he didn't care. “I love you both” He promises, sweet kisses on both of their foreheads. The jump, the stutters, everything he had worked so hard to leave behind fell apart. And now he felt as eggshells were beneath him and Liam controlled his every feeling and step. He was simply a puppet in the mans game.

Bang

Too loud, Patton clutched to the walls, feeling lightheaded. After five years, through every tribulation he thought this, at least this was gone. But as he felt himself sinking and things went up in smoke, he knew...the panic was setting in. And he couldn't breathe. Liam took his side, relieving him of Remus, he helped situate him on the floor.

“Patton you have to get up” Liam requests, Patton shuts his eyes, the only thing he could feel was a shaking Valerie. “Come on cupcake” Liam pleads, and there it was. He knew that voice, he knew that soft spoken beg. ”I love you” He tries

“No Liam! Im done!” Patton cries, his hands tight on his packed bags, Liam stands at the door a snarl upon his pristine face. How Patton's blood ridden face compared was awful, but then...then Liams defenses fell. His lips loosened as his body collapses ready to embrace Patton. “Let me out” A pathetic whisper

“Come on Patton, Im sorry” His gentle tone carried like a song, he took Patton's hands, the bags cluttered the floor. “It won't happen again, please stay, I love you” He lied. A moment of hesitation before Liam wrapped him up, kissing his neck before nuzzling into his neck. And Patton fell for it, every goddamn time.

“Get off of me” He commands, a shallow breath. His eyes open, a dead glare forward. Breathe love, you're okay. With Logans words imprinted in his mind Patton regained himself, taking Remus back with a careful smirk. “I'm with Logan, and I love him” Liam groans, stomping his childish foot.

“What's so great about the lawyer?” Liam fights, Patton couldn't believe they were getting into this right now? “Why is he so good?” Liam grabs Patton, turning him as they face one another. But Patton wasn't going to shrink, not now.

“He's not” Patton swallows, looking at Remus and Valerie's shining faces, happy to be with their father. “He's not good, he's divine” Patton admits, a blush and a flutter at the mere vision of Logan in his mind. “He's my divine” Patton chuckles, he strides away, maybe he was going crazy. Maybe the adrenaline of this tense situation finally caught up to him, but he kept going. With no regard to whether Liam was with him or not.

Because he didn't care about Liam

~~~

“Patton I would like to-” Logan shakes his head, turning onto the highway in the clear night. “Patton maybe we have a moment?” Logan tries, the sour taste on his tongue. “Patton, if you have a brief second-” Its not going to take a second Logan, he chides himself. The streets empty at this hour, the clearing into the courthouse however?

Why was it so crowded?

He parks, a little sloppily but his mind had other ideas. He reaches the door, pushing through the rummoring crowd, finally reaching the ‘do not cross’ tape, the yellow hurting his eyes. He scans the front lines finding Virgil talking to another office, he taps him.

“What is happening?” He inquires, his calm manner hiding his panic. Virgil turns to him, his already sullen face sinks deeper into the dark that surrounds him. “Virgil…” He starts, but the noise finishes the thought for him.

Bang

“Pattons in there” Logan identifies, the whisper hissed. Virgil nods, looking to a seemingly determined Remy. “Emile” He breathes, Virgil bites his lower lip one final time he glances towards a furious Roman. Logan shakes his head. “James too?” Logan was concerned, but the first name stuck. Patton, no doubt the twins. The box in his coat pocket becomes heavy with dread. He fears it may rip through his fabric, dropping through the floor. “Patton” Logan goes again, Virgil recognizes the slight shudder in his voice. He takes his arms, bracing himself, knowing his own grief must wait.

“Im so sorry Logan” He laments, for whatever they must face next. Knowing these hours would be heart wrenching, and Logan wasn't prepared. Logan smiles, its terrifying, he looks just past the tape. Empty, suspension as they await, the swat teams advance but they want to do something.

“Patton, Virge… please I must...I” He struggles, what must he do? So much, he has too. He begins to make a move but Virgils too quick, Remy joins him keeping the lawyer back. “Come on!” He screams, he didn't mean to but the silence felt numb. “Please” He cries, real tears, he hated the feeling but hated this so much more.

“Lo, breathe bud come on” Virgil takes him to where the officers are set up, seating him with some water. Remy rubs his hands together, the small whimper from a baby catches both of the men's attention. Logan's eyes go wide as Remy cradles Thomas, shushing him the best he can through his own fear. He wasn't the only one with something, someone at stake.

“I apologize,” Logan says, Remy turns to him, waving him off. No one had seen the detective so silent. “Let me take Thomas, so you can focus” He offers, a truly grateful look and Thomas sits sweetly in Logan's arms. “Where the north wind...meets the sea, there's a river full of memory” Logan hums gently, watching the curious look on Thomas smile at his intrigue. Remy stops his tears turning back to defenses, an encouraging squeeze from Virgil. “Sleep my darling safe and sound” He rocks Thomas, watching his eyes fall into a sleepy river.

“So we know there's a shooter right?” Remy gains himself, Virgil nods looking over the transcript so far. “We don't know how many or where right?” Another nod, Virgil cringes as he hears Romans stifled fears. He sits next to Logan, both discussing over hushed whispers their worries.

“We know that there have been casualties, and according to our heat signatures...there eight people inside” Virgil explains, Logan perks his ears up, a soft hope as he listens. “We cant seem to track or locate the threats, they must be using something...it also seems they disposed an EMT, we cant communicate at all” Virgil informs, rushing as the situation only worsens.  

“Ok breathe, the team is in there and-”

Bang

But this time accompanied by a scream, at least they were close. Everyone froze trying to identify the noise. Logan pours his energy into calming the baby, letting the world move on without him, ignoring as Remy breaks trying to go beyond his own security perimeters. Wishing he could cover his own ears as the cries, sobs and screams only grew, unbridled sadness oozed from each of them.

“Ok enough everyone!” Haley commands, her declaration silences the crowd. Once joined they become their own pieces, each a story, someone they love and care about. And only eight would be relieved. “Yes ma'am?” Haley points, Logan follows her scowling as Gloria and Arlo strut to them, no concern simply annoyance.

“My son and his partner are in there” She states, Logan furrows his brows...partner?

Oh god

Oh no

“Liam is in there?” He gapes, Gloria looks to him, no qualms as she examines him. “Virgil” He pushes, the detective understands, getting on his walkie. He listens as Virgil warns the swat to arrest Liam when they find him first, for safety measures. “Keep Patton safe” Logan begs, the men can't respond.

“Oh don't be ridiculous” Gloria chides “Im sure he's fine, I mean really this is a tad dramatic” She laughs, Logan goes to say something but it seems Arlo has his own control for once.

“Gloria are you serious?” He exclaims, turning to the shocked woman. “Our son is stuck in there with a monster and lord knows who's pulling the trigger!” He huffs, Logan watches feeling a prideful smile. “Can you for one moment be human and care?” His desperation matches that of Logan and Virgil and Remy and Roman. Logan nods to him, a shared moment.

“This doesn't redeem anything you have done, especially to Barbara and Patton” Logan reminds, Arlo smiles softly. No doubt picturing his children.

“I know, but I hope its a start” They shake hands, before Logan returns his attention to a cooing child, a spark of intrigue as he fumbles with Logans tie. He sat rocking Thomas again, tuning out the absolute panic that spread through the crowd, simply staring straight ahead. Praying that Patton would emerge, a sweet grin as he tumbled forward with the twins.

Thats all he could do

And listen to the constant-

Bang

~~~

“Anything?” James wonders, shaking yet another door. Emile huffs but to no avail as his efforts fail as well. They regroup in the center, going over every move and every door they've tested. Emile picks at his tie, letting the silk calm him.

“Surely the police have been notified and have sent in a team” Emile knows how the precinct works, he's seen this a million times. If he's got his knowledge down, there should be a swat team parading through the building right now, searching for survivors. “What if we just tried to sit and wait?” He proposes, James shrugs no harm no foul. He directs Emile to a hidden corner in one of the rooms, they kneel listening to the solemn silence.  The door opens, they clutch to each other as multiple feet shuffle in.

“Clear!” A voice declares, Emile shakes his head jumping up.

“Not clear! Not clear!” the team turns, as James and Emile approach them. The leading man turns to his walkie, clicking the button to speak through, the emotion that washes Emile as Remys voice speaks back.

“We found two of the eight, bringing them back now, over” He informs, Emile bites his lower lip.

“Copy that, split up the team and find the others” Remy commands, Emile can barely steady himself. The next few moments are pure terror as they walk in the open, following the swat team to safe haven. Every turn petrified the new father, and every small creak stopped him in his tracks.

But nothing hit him harder than coming out into the clearing and seeing an expectant Remy, both eyes locking as the world around them disappears. Remy could have, and should have waited till they reached the line but instead jumping skilfully over, pushing past the team, right up to Emile.

“Remy!” Emile practically sobs, falling safe into his partners arms. Remy squeezes him tight, promising to never let go. “I love you so much” Emile whispers, ignoring more excitement from around them.

“Right back at you” Remy sighs, pulling away through hesitancy. “Come on” He leads them back over, securing Emile behind the line, sitting him down. “Logan” Remy identifies, the lawyer nods placing the sleeping child into the doctor's hand. Granting the trio their moment in time, frozen as happy as they were.

“And you're sure you're ok?” Roman questions rather forcefully, James scoffs with playful laughter. The judge examines his boyfriend, checking every inch of his seemingly safe figure. James takes Romans cheeks, stroking them with gentle affection.

“Im okay, I promise” After a tender kiss, they retreat to a restful place. Sitting with exhaustion through their adrenaline. Logan watches as Virgil stares at them, regretful pools strain his eyes. Logan knows he should comfort him, but he feels numb, the clearing nwo remains empty, no one in or out. Just a pair of anxious, blue eyes, hoping with every last cell in his body.  

~~~

“Where the north wind, meets the sea” Patton hums carefully, the twins napping peacefully in his trembling arms. “There's a river...full of memory” Liam listens, the voice so quiet, the tune carries through his mind, dancing gracefully through the echos of the courtroom. “Sleep my darling safe and sound” Patton continues, sitting in a hidden corner of the room “For in this river, all is found” He promises, kissing them on their forehead as they nuzzle into him. The chill of the room hitting them soon however.

“Thats a nice song” Liam comments, locking the doors after their trail led to a dead end of exits. Now deciding they must sit and wait.

“Logan sings it, it seems to work quite well” Patton dreams, picturing the mans soft face as he sings to the giddy twins. The night stars reflecting on his perfect eyes, twinkling with intrigue for more. Liam rolls his eyes through a grunt, restless he paces. “The more noise you make, the more likely it is for us to get caught” Patton warns, keeping his eyes on his children.

“Whatever” Liam scoffs, kicking the rug below him. Patton shakes his doubts, swaying delicately to keep the children at ease. “Why here? Why now? Why us?” Liam rambles, Patton ignores him, figuring his silly mutterings had no meaning. “What if they're targeting us?” Liam poses, Patton swallows, the thought crossed his mind a couple of times.

“That's ridiculous, who wo-”

“Patton Hart!” A grunged voice screams, the sound pierces yet no source can be located. Liam eyes him with fear.

“You were saying?” He mocks, Patton shushes him, gesturing desperately to hide. Liam obliges through his own scared manner, the shallow breathing heard from both ends. The door crashes open, and Pattons instincts fight. His hold on the twins tightens as he pushes into the plaster hoping he might just melt into the wall.

“Patton Hart!” It repeats, Patton clasps his mouth, ignoring the stifled tears that cascade down his cheeks. “Come out, come out wherever you are” It teases, Liam shakes and Patton prays for once the man keeps his mouth shut.

But no one was there, no one, no human resonated in Liam.

He just was

“Over there!” A timid confession, Patton bites his hand. “P-patton is over there” He knows Liams pointing, he knows in only a matter of seconds everything would be over. “Please dont hurt me” Patton wanted to laugh, how many times had he uttered that same plea, that same beg. To Liam nonetheless. Ironic…

“Go” The voice demands and Liam scatters, his feet echo down the hall before disappearing. Patton was alone, and it was over, he had failed.

“Im so sorry my little angels” He whispers, the twins cry into him, shaking like they could never stop. “Im so sorry” He strokes them gently, hoping they find solace in these last moments, praying they would be spared.

But the universe and whatever higher powers work in a strange way

A strange way indeed

“Get on the floor! Drop the weapon and hands on your head!” Someone new? No...there were many bodies. They filed in, a beautiful rhythm as they surrounded the criminal. It went on but Patton remained frozen, until the last silent drop fell to the room. “Mister Hart?” He dares look up, a man in uniform, bright white ‘SWAT’ letters placated. “You're safe now, lets get you out of here” He offers his hand, he offers an exit from this nightmare.

The next few moments were a motionless blur, they walked calmly through the building. Ignoring what seemed to be the piled bodies, Patton felt empty but refused to let the team help with his kids. Nothing sparked in his eyes as they traversed what used to feel like his home away from home. Nothing was alive, until they reached the crowded clearing. A hush over the crowd as the team appeared, but nothing would compare to when Logan and Pattons eyes met across the tense air.

“Patton” Logan refuses to heed Virgil's cautions about crossing the line, he didn't care. He made his way slowly, a staggered breath before he reached the father. “Love” Was all he could manage, Patton thought he couldn't speak but he fell into the lawyer. Allowing Logan to take his cheek, kissing him so gently. Checking each twin so meticulously.

“Im so sorry” Patton mumbles, Logan laughs, shaking his head. Relieving the clearly struggling father from Remus, the young boy feeling safe instantly. At this moment they didn't care about the commotion, they were here. “I love you” Patton needed to tell him, from the first night to this moment the words had never felt so true.

“I love you” Logan replies, the phrase used to feel so weird as it tickled his tongue, refusing to fall for anyone besides his mothers. But now, it felt like the pieces just fit. “Come on, they cleared the building, lets give you some time” He ushers the family away from noise, watching as Virgil and Roman follow them. “Breathe Patton” Logan assures, squeezing his hand.

God it felt so good to hear it, not a fading memory, but the words imprinted in his mind.

~~~

The air had calmed, and after many ‘Are you ok?’ and angry promises from Virgil the four felt like a machine again. Jokes and jests, Roman and the twins, Virgil and Logan's debates, it felt comfortable. James, Emile and Remy soon joined them and Patton was excited almost, forgetting the event.

He was targeted...and it had failed.

He should feel on edge but something just felt right? He felt safe, maybe that was premature but he was surrounded by people he loved. The conversation only livened and Patton found himself yawning, leaning on Logan who took him with no push back. The box in his pocket became more prominent, the lawyer swallowed standing with Patton.

“So targeted?” Virgil asks, Patton nods, practically relying on Logan for support. “Patton is there something you aren't telling us?” Virgil pushes, the normal expression should not be on Patton. Why was this so ok with him?

“Im vegetarian?” He wonders, awkward laughs but Virgils not convinced.

“Why don't we resume this conversation at a later date?” Logan proposes, aware of the uncomfortable fidgeting Patton does. Murmurs of agreement from the rest of them, a grateful kiss from Patton seemed to shut Virgil down. “We will be back, Im going to get Patton some water” Logan informs, Roman nods his charge of the twins set now.

“Thank you” Patton nudges as they take a stroll through the sleeping building. Logan smiles, kissing his forehead, even though a short separation he had missed him dearly. He decided now was as good as time as any.

Because he was sure

“Can we talk?” Logan asks once further from the group, Patton nods allowing Logan to take him away. Logan takes his hand carefully leading him into the empty room, their steps echo as they step further in, Patton looks around, his eyes marvelled. Logan tugs harder making sure Patton keeps up, he smiles at his boyfriend as the seemingly nervous leads him to the middle of the room. Patton looks dazily around everything, it's just so relaxed and calm.

“Patton” Logan clears his throat, the lawyer turns to him, cocking his head. Logan will never get over the sweet innocence his partner radiates, the absolutely adorable way he composes himself.

“Hmm?” Patton hums, Logan takes both his hands, fiddling with his fingers gently. He can't help the urge, leaning in slowly he kisses Patton softly, surprising the smaller of the two.

“Sorry, I jus-” He's cut off by a gesture of return, Patton cups his cheek as he kisses him back. It's safe to say they both melt. Once he pulls away, he sighs content, shakes his head quickly however. “Ok I have something to say, and I need you to listen” He asks, Patton rubs his thumb against Logan's cheek reassuringly. Logan swoons, shutting his eyes, feeling the warmth against his face. Logan kisses the palm of Patton's hand, allowing the smaller man to giggle.

“I love you starlight” Patton confesses, as he had done so many times before. “Now go, tell me!” He encourages, Logan nods ready.

“Patton...you are the smartest person I have ever met, you never, ever fail to amaze me” Logan breathes as Patton cups his face, letting go was not an option. The room resonated with his love, his words echoed, Patton couldn't miss them. “From the moment you walked into this exact courtroom ten years ago, to this very second, you've been my everything” How do you reciprocate something so strong, how can you explain your own words?

“Lo-” Patton tries, he has so much to say. He's not sure where this is going but damnit if he won’t tell Logan how much he loves him.

“Please, let me finish” He begs, his eyes twinkle, Patton's favorite feature. The absolute excitement in his eyes, the hinted buzz as he generates thoughts. He nods staying quiet at his request “Patton, you are the strongest, kindest, most loving person, and I don't know how” He admits, they laugh dryly. “Im serious, you've been through...quite a lot in your life” Patton shrugs hoping it'll stop the tears. “There aren't words…” He stops, his breath stutters, there really aren't, this overwhelming pang in his chest, the absolute adoration in his eyes. “There aren't words to describe everything I feel...I don't even know what I feel” He says, tilting his head up to stop the tears. He can get through this. Patton smiles, sadly wiping them away for him. “Patton, I love you, from the smile you gave me as you sat down for our first case to the moment you asked if you could kiss me” He reminisces, Patton sucks in a breath, he'd like to do it again.

“Take a breath divine” He requests watching his partner struggle to get his words out. Logan laughs through his sweet sorrow, allowing Patton once more to rub his thumbs under his eye, wiping away more tears. The prickly feeling quickly washed away, replaced by warmth and safety. A promise of love.  

“I-i promise I can get through this” He only half jokes, Patton has to wonder where this came from. Not that he doesnt love it, and that he isn't vibrating to return everything Logan says to him, to give him all the love he so deserves. He removes his hold from Patton's waist, lingering as Patton's hands meet his own. He inhales slowly, a deep breath closing his eyes, he begins his descent and Pattons heart drops. Logan kneels shakily, Patton can feel his hands move fast, Logan goes to his pocket. “P-patton Hart” He stutters, Patton squeezes tightly to his hand. “Will you marry me?” He meets his tear dewed eyes, the bright star behind the glasses. The box he holds out, a beautiful perfect ring awaiting an answer.

“Youve got to be kidding me” Patton scoffs playfully, his heart beats fast he can hear its pulse, Logan feels the panic set in. “Only me” He shakes his head, Logan recoils his hands, feeling a deep flush. Patton goes to his own pocket, a small velvet box emerges. “A walk in the park, everything planned out, under the stars just like you like it” He mumbles, Logan stands, a calm floods him, the urge to scoop Patton up smothering the man he holds so dear overtakes him. “Oh! And yours was so good, I mean yes of course and…” He rambles on but Logans eyes go wide, he cups Patton's face stopping him in his tracks.

“Y-yes? You said yes?” He rushes, Patton nods unphased. “Oh..oh!” He exclaims picking up the lawyer, he spins him around delighted, squeals of laughter are released. He sets him down meeting his lips, Pattons arms make their way around Logans neck returning the gesture. They pull away desperate for air, clutching to each other. “I love you Patton” Patton smiles bright, a toothy grin spread across his face. Logans not sure what happened, the way his frozen smile disappeared so quickly, Logan doesn't have time to register. Had he said something wrong? The shortest breath released as Patton lurches only slightly forward. He had missed the high-pitched ringing that had entered the room seconds before, but he didn't miss Patton falling limp in his arms and the increasing amount of something warm oozing in his hands. “P-patton?” He fears, He descends to the ground with Patton still in his arms. His eyes dart around the room quickly then back to Patton. Everything happens so slowly, he doesnt understand whats happening, until he sees the dark red bleeding from Patton's abdomen. “Oh god...oh god! Patton! No no...no! Help!” He cries, his hands applying heavy pressure to the wound. He hugs him closer, he can't even see anymore, the fogginess and blurriness of his glasses and tears well him up. “Patton! Please! God no! Someone!”

Take a breath divine

I love you my starlight

“Help...” He pleads softly

Art Report - ‘Elisabeth 2019′ TOHO ACT 1

【Click here for Act 2 】

Dear everyone!~~!

Now 3 months late since I promised,  I finally bring you a VERY detailed photo report on ‘Elisabeth’ 2019!

DISCLAIMER:

I am not going to retell the story of ‘Elisabeth’; I will skip quite many scenes. For the full story, please look up a synopsis or something alike.

There is actually quite a lot I am not sure whether I remembered right. And Furukawa always changes his performance every few days, so my report does not cover all of Furutod.

Some of these drawings were made in a rush, while for others I had more time.

Cast - Matinée July 19th, 2019

Elisabeth - Manaki Reika

Der Tod - Furukawa Yuta

Lucheni - Yamazaki Ikusaburo

Franz I - Hirakata Genki

Sophie - Koujun Tatsuki

Rudolf - Miura Ryosuke

Child Rudolf - Jin Yoshiharu

The Descent

The descent has always been one of my favourite scenes. This number is just so great, a mere memory of it is enough to turn me into one giant goosebump. I was especially looking forward to this, because this would be the first time we see Furukawa Yuta as the role of his dreams; Der Tod.

Though I am no fan of the metallic wings, Furutod’s descent was SO MAJESTIC. The theme of Der Tod started, and from the ceiling a pair of boots descended.

Some ankles revealed itself, the calf... more of the calf... and there was more calf... AH finally some knees. Uw, more legs...leeegs...leeeegs... “WHERE DO HIS LEGS STOP!? Oh, there! No wait, those are his upper thighs. Ah, finally, his waist.”

I heard from someone who counted, Furukawa descends one beat earlier than Inoue Yoshio’s Der Tod does, because otherwise by the time Der Tod needs to sing, Furukawa’s face has not shown yet ( ´艸｀)

When Furutod touched ground, his Death Angels undid his wings, and he stepped onto the stage for the first time.

The way Furukawa carries himself as Der Tod is very two-dimensional, in a good way!  When he descended he was like a Greek statue, but when he stepped forward, he gradually came to life. In this photo ⇊ we catch a small glimpse of Furutod’s statue-like face.

Sissi’s Entrance

Manaki’s Sissi was the cutest and most majestic thing I have seen. When she made her appearance as child Sissi, it was very believable that it really was a child standing before me. She was beaming and her eyes were full of dreams. And yet there was this edge in her. It was easy to see how this young girl would grow into a woman who would survive ordeal after ordeal.

Enter the Underworld

During a family meeting, Sissi fell from the tree which wounded her so bad she enters the Underworld. She was escorted by the Death Angels, and at first Furutod did not seem interested at all. “Another mortal who died, nothing new.” When he approached her to take her life, Sissi sought eye-contact with Der Tod, and her eyes were so full of power and life, it was like she - though confused - was daring the lord of the Underworld to end her.

“The Rondo of Love and Death”

The song ‘the Rondo of Love and Death’ began, and I was stunned by how much Furukawa managed to improve his already good singing. He always had trouble with the high notes, and sometimes he would be a bit short of breath. But by ‘Elisabeth’, Furukawa has improved his vocals so much that even the highest notes went as smooth as silk.

♪♬ “The wounds from which my pale blood flows Only you are capable of easing my pain I shall return you your life” ♪♬  - Der Tod

This is the first time when Furutod comes fully to life, and for the first time his eyes showed an emotion that was not utttttter boredom. We learn that Furutod is like a spoiled child who would take any opportunity to play. Despite literally being the personification of Death, the only thing Der Tod seems to want to kill is not the lives of others, but his own boredom. To me, Furutod is the first Der Tod that made me realise what this ‘pain’ in the script really meant to him; a lethal apathy paired with the suffering of not being able to end it.

The other Der Tods I have seen are also good; but especially in the Takarazuka version, this ‘pain’ is strongly hinted to be ‘a loveless existence’. A lethal apathy was a very refreshing take for me to see.

♪♬ “Until the day I win your love I will continue my pursuit... I will pursue your love no matter where you go”　♪♬

The song was meant to be a very romantic one, but once sung by Furutod, this pining lover’s song became that of an entitled stalker’s threat song. In the other versions of ‘Elisabeth’, Der Tod is also a stalker, of course. But the emphasis on the romance is usually laid on so thick, one would have to give the situation some extra thought before acknowledging how creepy it truly is.

Furutod however, only allows you room to either interpret it as a problematic kinky-romance, or sheer threat.

The Imperial Wedding

Franz I and Sissi get married, and Der Tod attends the Imperial wedding as well. I was a very lucky b*tch, I sat only 2 seats away from where Furutod passed us in the aisle.

... he was literally only a meter away from us, and my little dork sister Ò^Ó didn’t see him. Sigh. She was too busy looking at the stage. Which - not gonna lie - was glorious too. But Furutod thoughhhhhhh.

His long cape trailed behind him, the way he walked was so smooth it was like he was floating. We have seen a preview of Furukawa’s float-walk in Kuromyu, where he applied ballet even to walking. I thought that was already the height of Furukawa’s ballet skills; BUT I WAS WRONG! When I saw Furutod’s float-walk from up close, I realised that as Sebas, Furukawa was at least ‘TRYING’ to look human. With Furutod he did not bother.

Speaking of my sister @cutiepeimei , she also sketched the image of Floating!Furutod. He ghost.

The Game is On

After Furutod saw his ‘toy’ become someone else’s, it was like something snapped in his mind. He was very calm at first, solemnly warning Elisabeth that she will be the end of the Habsburg glory.

♪♬ “All misfortune starts here, as of today The demise of the Habsburg glory The downfall of an empire of which no one knows Let me tell you bit by bit, the source of all disaster People are blissfully oblivious of the scent of misfortune The die is cast by your grave mistake Elisabeth!” ♪♬ - Der Tod and Choir

But then after Elisabeth spoke her wedding vow, tears started streaming down Furutod’s cheeks, and suddenly, he broke into hysterical laughter.

He started with a few chuckles under his breath which bled into an uncontrolled laughter. Before we knew, this ominous laughter became a full-out hyena screech, going “iiiiyaaahahahaahahaha!”

The Japanese fandom is rather divided on their opinions on this hyena laughter. I at first didn’t like it either; I found myself pinching my nose willing myself not to laugh in the theatre. Despite it being funny at the time, it was indeed very very chilling. It wasn’t until after I watched other versions of ‘Elisabeth’ (because I just missed Furutod SO MUCH) that I realised I was REALLY missing Hyena!Tod. So I have settled with the opinion of “Hyena!Tod Hell YES!”.

“The Last Dance“

In the interview published in ‘Soen September 2019 Issue’, Furukawa shared with us that he asked costume designer Ikezawa to make this costume military based.

Though all guests attended the Imperial wedding in formal wear, Furutod chose to appear in military uniform because that was the moment he decided to declare war to Elisabeth. Quite a few years had passed between their first encounter and the wedding, and Furutod was done waiting; he was going to conquer his toy actively now.

In the song ‘the Last Dance’, Furutod made his appearance in a cool-headed manner, and he stayed so for... a few seconds. It was like he was trying very hard to remain calm, but his bottled-up impatience just could no longer be suppressed.

As Furukawa said himself before in this interview, “‘the Last Dance’, starts in gentle melody and sets the mood. But then suddenly the rock starts, and both Der Tod and the musical itself transform themselves.”

 Sissi was trying to escape the room, but the Death Angels had already guarded every corner of the room. Whenever Sissi seemed to finally have found a window to escape, a minion would just spin her on her heels and push her back to the boss.

Usually, this scene is one of my least favourites in non-Takarazuka versions, because it is usually performed with too much rape-vibes. Furutod however, was not rape-y at all. In fact, he hardly ever touched more than Sissi’s hands. The scene was devoid of sexual energy - it was just war.

By the end of the song, Furutod saw how Sissi was devastated by him, and seemed to regret for a second that he used the wrong strategy. Had he not scared her, then Sissi might have been less quick to run away from him. It was very refreshing to see a version of this scene wherein Der Tod reflects on how he scared somebody unduly.

Alas, no use crying over spilt milk, Furutod shrugged it off. Before he left Sissi he bowed to her, and with a gentle smile he gestured at the pathway that the Death Angels cleared for her. Furutod reminded Sissi that whether she escapes him or not would be entirely at his mercy, just like now. “Your last dance will belong to me.” ♪♬

“I Belong to Myself”

At the crack of dawn after Sissi’s wedding night, her mother in law Sophie inspects every inch of her, and even blamed her for not having consummated the wedding with her son. Sophie dictates the rules at the Imperial court and strips Sissi of every last bit of her autonomy.

Look, ⇊ it’s Akisono Mio (Frances) on the left!

Franz hears the noise from his bride’s chamber and comes to check on her. Sissi cries out to Franz, begging him to save her from Sophiezilla. Franz - the spineless mama-boy that he is - smiles at Sissi, and has the guts to sing the following:

♪♬ “ You have to learn the duties of being Empress You need to repress yourself, that is your life from now on I am your ally, but all of Mother’s advice is for your sake” ♪♬ - Franz

Sissi will swallow none of this bs, and declares that even though her body might now be the Imperial family’s property, her soul belongs to herself alone.

I have seen a lot of whimpering Sissis who turned this power song into a damsel-in-distress-song. But Manaki Reika was full of determination and spite. It was very empowering to see. She was looking up, of course, and it makes sense because the Imperial Theatre has multiple stories of seats. But because of Manaki’s immense presence, it felt like she was declaring her autonomy to a greater existence.

Hungarian Independence

Sissi’s life was getting harder and harder. First, her husband was very busy, so the couple did not have any time to produce any children. By the second year, Sissi finally gave birth to a baby girl, but the baby was immediately taken away by Sophie. Not only did Sophie go full Disney Villain by stealing a baby, she also took the liberty of naming the child after herself.

The state was in turmoil, and Franz had trouble keeping everything together. He was willing to make a last bet on his wife’s charms, and asked Elisabeth to come with him to Hungary.

Here, Sissi saw her chance to make a move, and demanded that she would only come if Franz made his mother return baby Sophie to her. Defeated, Franz finally made his first move.

Franz was supposed to show himself in a speech wherein he declares Austrian authority over Hungary. Sissi however, showed herself in a dress in the colours of the Hungarian flag, and greeted the Hungarian people in Hungarian language and acknowledges Hungary as an independent nation. Using this political move, she managed to single-handedly win the favours of the Hungarian people who were fighting for self governance.

The Hungarian revolutionaries however, were VERY unhappy with this development. While they would have been seen as ‘heroes who fought for independence’, they would now be reduced to ‘ungrateful rebellions’.

Elemer, played by Uehara Takuya (Grell) made his move to assasinate Sissi, but was stopped by Furutod. Furutod hid Elemer’s hand that was holding a gun with his cape, and showed the revolutionaries that the Imperial guards were very close by.

Furutod gave the revolutionaries an assuring pat on the shoulders and created an opening for them to escape the guards. The revolutionaries thanked him heartily. Furutod scoffed, reminding the audience once more that Sissi’s life and death was entirely in his hands.

Just like Furukawa explained marvelously before in this interview, Furutod is “an entity that represents both life force and death; death has no meaning to human beings if there is no life, after all. Death’s power ultimately, comes from his authority over the termination of someone’s life.”

Sissi seemed to be very full of herself after she won the popularity of the Hungarian people, but Furutod would not allow her this joy. His Death Angels appear with a small coffin and presented it to her like a gift box. They opened the ‘gift’ and revealed the corpse of baby Sophie to her mother.

Sissi screeches in pain and anger, and Furutod wrapped his arms around her, again with tears streaming down his face.

♪♬ “On the eve of your wedding you danced Your eyes shining with love for me But the arms around you were the Emperor’s Do you remember? Now in my eyes too, my love for you shines But in my arms rests another Elisabeth, quickly acknowledge your love for me And realise that you will lead his Empire into ruins” ♪♬ - Der Tod

Furutod is easily the cruelest interpretation of Der Tod I have seen... and I have seen MANY. (Ack, I forgot to draw this scene... might add it later.)

Ultimatum

Sissi’s produced 3 children by now, but all were taken away by Sophie. Her only son Rudolf was but a young child, but he was being literally being whipped into discipline by Sophie. Whenever the boy would say he wanted to see his mother, Sophie would whip him, and tell him his mother is a bad influence.

Sophie did not like Elisabeth’s success in Hungary, so she had been controlling every aspect at the Austrian court.

Sissi’s had enough, and wrote an ultimatum to her husband, demanding that he needed to choose either her, or his mother. If he did not comply, then her legs door would always be closed to him.

Franz takes the letter, but did not know what to do, and left. Sissi did not seem to have a lot of faith in Franz to be able to stand up against Sophiezilla either, and almost crashes.

Then in her lowest moment, Der Tod appeared and showed her the understanding and compassion she could get nowhere else. He sings in a cooing voice:

♪♬ “Elisabeth... cry no more Rest embraced in my chest Now is the time you can finally be free in the eternal world where time never ends” ♪♬ - Der Tod

He touched her very gently, only ever guiding her with his finger tips, never pulling her. Here he respected her bodily autonomy which her husband would not.

♪♬ “Elisabeth... let us go just the two of us...” ♪♬

Sissi seemed to be falling for the temptation, and Furutod got carried away because for the first time in years, he seemed to be a bit more successful. He forgot to maintain his gentle act, and pushed Sissi down a bit too forcibly. Sissi snapped out of the dream, realising her seducer was not unlike her husband who’s been trying to force himself onto her, and pushed Der Tod away.

♪♬ “No, I will not run! It's still too soon to give up! As long as I am alive I can obtain my freedom Get out! I will never rely on you!” ♪♬  - Elisabeth

“MILK!”

‘Milk’ is such a powerful song...! Yamazaki’s powerful and slightly drunk voice is PERFECT for Lucheni... eternal sadness that 2019 is probably his last time as Lucheni...

Austria was suffering from famine, and the price of milk had sky-rocketed. Lucheni here poses as a milk merchant and sells milk to the starving people. There was barely enough milk left for one small jug however, and the people raged even further.

Lucheni then explains that all the milk is gone because it got into the bathtub of the Empress, who was using food to maintain her beauty.

♪♬ “Can the beauty of the Empress really save a nation!? Instead of looking at other countries Have some eyes for your own!” ♪♬ - Lucheni & Choir

After having successfully fueled the anger of the people, Lucheni then ships cans and cans of milk to the Imperial palace, where Sissi was having her beauty routine.

The Mirror Hall

Franz could not really keep it in his pants anymore, and finally decided to confront his mother. He gathered his courage and approached his wife, to tell her that she will have her authority as the children’s mother back, “so please, please sleep with me again.” Though this is exactly what Sissi wanted to hear, Franz started another train of spineless excuses for how he was toootally not a coward for NOT standing up against his mother, but that he merely had to abide his duty as the Emperor.

Sissi makes another power move. She showed herself in the iconic Empress Elisabeth dress, and presented herself so majestically she manages to shut her husband up. (Sorry, my art here cannot quite represent just HOW majestic she was...)

My sister’s self portrait does cover the reaction it demanded though!

When Franz wanted to get close to her, Sissi stopped Franz with but a mere hand-gesture. Though Sissi presented herself as a very elegant and perfect wife, her words carried a very strict warning that Franz should not mistake her as his property just because she’s happy he showed her basic decency.

♪♬ “I am pleased to hear your words I too wish to walk by your side, Your Majesty However, my life belongs to myself!” ♪♬ - Elisabeth

Franz was not the only one who was impressed, Furutod too had to begrudgingly admit he was one-upped by Sissi. Now that Sissi had determined to live on regardless of the hardships, Der Tod was forced to literally stay in the background, watching Elisabeth reconquering everything that was stripped away from her bit by bit.

♪♬ “Because I've permitted you another chance to live you ended up finding the purpose of life!” ♪♬ - Der Tod

The platform on which Furukawa stood rose up, and he pressed a hand onto his heart, raising his head to the sky.

Herewith, the curtains of the first Act fell (and while applauding, everybody shot up from the seats and bolted for the toilets.)

【Click here for Act 2 】

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Ace Mindhunter - 5th Interview

Characters: Simon Blackquill, Athena Cykes, Shi-Long Lang, and a rogues gallery of AA villains. Fandom: Ace Attorney Pairings: N/A. Warnings/rating: 16+, I would say. Talk of heavy themes such as death and abuse, plus cursing. Spoilers for every AA game up to Spirit of Justice, AAI2 included. Gratuitous amounts of headcanon for antagonists. Summary: Simon Blackquill is roped into a Behavioral Analysis project along with Athena Cykes. They must sit down with convicted murderers for interviews, in hopes of finding out just what drove them to their convoluted crimes.

5th Interview Alita and Ini

Date: June 18th 2028 Time: 2:31 PM Location: Interview Room. “So... Your parents were against the engagement? Why?” “Why? Why else? That silly brat was a gangster...” “I suppose that's a good reason. What did you tell them, back then?” “I told them... what every parent wants to hear. “Wocky is a good boy. He will protect me with his life.” All those sorts of things. When they still didn't approve, I chose Wocky over them.” “Even though you didn't really love him and were only in it for the money?” “What's with that judgmental look? The Kitakis could give me everything my parents couldn't. Telling me to stay away from him... Who needs a selfish family like that?” “O-Oh... Uh... Right.” If there was one thing about Alita Tiala that irked Simon, it was her air of innocence. Her fingers steepled together, she continued to grace the both of them with a smile. She would speak quietly, she would be polite, she would bat her eyes and act every bit the fallen angel that she wasn't. Getting a forthright emotion out of her was like attempting to have a fish tapdance; it simply wasn't in her nature. Worst of all, Simon had no idea what to entice her with in order to have her open up. Athena had been doing most of the talking and he, in turn, had been observing to the best of his ability. Athena took a moment to pull herself together, then moved on with newfound determination. “So when you got engaged, you resigned from the Meraktis Clinic. Was that just because you were about to marry into money, or did you also want to run from that failed surgery?” “Run? Why should I?” Alita asked, still smiling. “Meraktis was the one who'd failed. All I did was sign off on some papers. I'm hardly to blame, now am I?” “If that was how you felt about it, why did you go through so much trouble to steal the chart back?” “Because... Well, that silly brat... could be impulsive. If he found out that I knew about the bullet, he might've done something drastic... like call off the engagement. And if he didn't, his disturbing mother would've. They would've blown that whole thing out of proportion.” Athena hung her head with an expression of extreme disbelief. “Errr. Well, Ms. Tiala, some might argue that holding back such vital information about a person's health is, err, a terrible thing to do. It would've made sense to call off the wedding.” “Tee hee! Why does it matter what I did or did not tell Wocky? If he hadn't found out... he would've continued to worship the very ground I walk on. He would've been happy for the remainder of his life.” “Which would've lasted for about another year...” “And what a year it would've been. Now both our futures are ruined by this stupid little tiff that Meraktis started.” Tiala rubbed at her throat as she said it. A thin scar was visible there; evidence that just a bit over two years ago, she'd been strangled with a lamp cord. Already, Simon had formed a hypothesis on Tiala's mental state. One which would be difficult to support with true evidence. The most they could do was gather up more of her words and use those as pillars instead. “In regards to that malpracticing doctor...” he began loudly, indicating to Athena that it was time for him to take the lead. “If the court transcripts are to be believed, you pulled the trigger because he was about to expose your true nature to your fiancé. Instinct, panic, call it whatever you like. Now you sit before us, two years later. My question is as follows: Do you believe Pal Meraktis deserved to die?” “What sort of question is that?” Tiala asked, a bit of condescension showing through her pleasant exterior. Once again, she raised a hand to her throat. “He almost killed me. He believed that he did! He was about to dump my body in some gross river! Causing the death of his patients was not enough- he had to resort to attempted murder.” “You did not answer me. Do you believe that he deserved the fate you so generously bestowed upon him?” “I-I... Well... He must have! After all the things that he did...! Murderers deserve the death penalty, don't they?” Simon leaned forward, his eyes piercing Tiala's own. “You were put through a terrible ordeal, Angel. You were only looking out for everyone's best interests when you confronted Meraktis, yet he was blind to your intent and he did something unforgivable to you. That crook attempted to take your life and were it not for a guardian angel of your own, he would have succeeded. You shot him out of self-defense. Do you believe that to be an apt description of what occurred?” “Yes!” Tiala said immediately. “Yes, that's exactly it! Finally, someone who-” “It is a lie,” Simon cut across her in the bluntest of tones. “What? No... That's-” “Two years ago, your defense attorney attempted to feed the same hogwash to the court. No doubt, that was on your orders. However, the judge saw through it, as any member of the law-enforcement community ought to. Your murder of Pal Meraktis was not out of self-defense for a very simple reason. When you raised the pistol, you were no longer in any direct danger.” “What does that have to do with anything?” “It's quite simple. The moment you awoke, Meraktis was facing two witnesses who would have undoubtedly protected you. You could have simply slipped out the back of the noodle stand and told your fiancé that Meraktis had attempted to take your life. This was the truth, after all, with more than enough evidence to prove it. The young kitsune would have stood by your side, much like a samurai stands by their master, and any claim Meraktis had made from that point on would have fallen on deaf ears.” “Ah-” “The moment you shot a man unbeknownst of your presence from behind, you were not acting out of self-defense. Instead, you donned a mantle of vigilante. Do you still believe yourself to be the victim?” Tiala screamed out loud, her voice similar to the screech of a bird. “Eeeeek! How dare you! Don't you understand...? Don't you know what it's like to be all alone?!” Athena recoiled, her hand cupping Widget, and Simon sat up a bit straighter as well. It seemed as if they'd finally broken Tiala, but what lay beneath was more fierce than expected. “They would have protected me? He would have stood by my side?!” she yelled, spite radiating off her in all directions. “How can you know? No one has ever chosen my side before! All my life, I had to do everything myself! I had to do my own housework, I had to pay for my own studies... I even had to take up a nurse job with the most disgusting clinic in town! My only chance to get out of that horrid life was to marry some hoodlum, and even that was my decision! My hard work! When something needs to be done, the only person you can trust to do it is yourself!” Following that outburst, there was an eerie tension. Athena was still holding onto Widget, her fingers shielding a blue glow. As for Simon, he could taste something bitter, for he recognized this mindset. He knew what it was like to believe that he was all alone; that no one was to be trusted with the dirty work and so, he was the one to be sullied. He knew that voice that had whispered, in his darkest hours, that no one could or would save him. He also knew where those thoughts had led him. “You're wrong, Angel,” he said quietly. “Whether you like it or not, those who care about you will attempt to act in your best interest. They will drag you, kicking and screaming, out from under the burning wreckage of your tainted life. You need only be deserving of their aid.” “Deserving of their aid? Tee hee hee...” Tiala steepled her fingers together, once again back to smiling. “Isn't it a bit too late for that? If murderers deserve the death penalty, then vigilantes deserve it too, right? That's what the court's already decided. You can come in here and preach redemption all you want, but no one will be in my corner anymore. It's all over for me.” “Ms. Tiala...” Athena appeared quite distraught and Simon feared that she was taking their subject's emotions far too personally. If so, that was a habit she would have to kick as soon as possible, but now was not the time to bring it up. “I, for one, am in your corner. My partner as well, I'm certain,” Simon said, as gentle as a man like him could be. “It is for that reason that I would persuade you to see sense. It is only too easy to believe you cannot rely on anyone but yourself, shirking responsibility towards others. However, such thoughts will lead you down a dangerous, lonely path. Have you not already noticed it? The darkness in your everyday life? That heavy weight which keeps you pinned down?” Tiala's smile had faltered quite spectacularly now. She was chewing her bottom lip and wringing her hands together. “I... That's really none of your...” “You may still change your ways and live your remaining years with true company. If nothing else, I would suggest that you adopt a therapy animal through the prison's respective program.” Initially, Simon believed that his words had gotten through Tiala's hide. He believed that she understood the harm her mindset was doing to her. That he had helped to make the remainder of her life a bit easier. Such hopes were shoved aside when she leered down at him with something close to disgust. “Do you... believe me to be crazy?” she asked in a low voice. “Of course not.” “Therapy animals are for those who need therapy. You want someone delusional for your little psychology project? Go speak to Miney. This interview is over.” ------- Date: June 18th 2028 Time: 4:06 PM Location: Prison hallway. Strolling through the prison's halls, Simon felt more frustrated than he had in a long while. And to think, he'd considered reprimanding Athena for taking their subjects' emotions too personally. He was no better than her. To believe he wouldn't project his own experiences on these inmates would've been naive. His hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat and his shoulders hunched, he must've been radiating more than enough for Athena to pick up on. “Geez... What a stubborn woman...” she said. “Don't take it too hard, okay Simon? I'm sure she's been through a lot and I know that you'd want to save her, but... Some people just don't want to be saved.” “I did not wish to be saved, half a year ago. Yet, there you were, extending a hand to me all the same,” he pointed out, shaking his head. “You, Wright-dono, the Chief Prosecutor, Aura... The whole lot of you managed to divert the beliefs of a stubborn fool such as myself. Had you surrendered as easily as the two of us did just now, I would've been six feet under today.” “That's a little different... You didn't really kill anyone and I'm sure, deep down, I knew that. Aura and the Chief Prosecutor must've seen that as well. We saved you because you were innocent. But like you said, Ms. Tiala didn't even kill out of self-defense. She did it because... Because she believed she had to, I guess.” “Mmh,” was all Simon could bring himself to voice. Athena had a fair point. If Simon hoped to save a murderer such as Tiala from her own loneliness, it was a slippery slope. There were more than enough inmates who needed salvation from something or another. “But hey, can you believe the murder of Dr. Meraktis was the second case Apollo ever worked on? Pretty impressive that he managed to break Ms. Tiala in court when he was still a rookie, right?” “It certainly explains why he often appears so nervous during cross-examinations. How is the young Justice-dono doing abroad?” Simon asked, relieved to find a change in topic to cling to. “He's been so busy, he hasn't even found time to send us any letters! Can you believe that? Little Polly's all grown up and the boss of his own law offices, with his own paperwork to take care of and everything. I'll bet he misses the good old toilet scrubbing days right about now.” The inmates were in the courtyard at the moment; Simon could see them through the window as they approached the reception desk. Most of the faces were familiar, others were recent additions he'd never gotten to fraternize with on that same level. Several new cliques had formed in his absence, he noted. It was quite odd to be scheduling appointments with them through a middle man, but such was bureaucracy. They stepped up to the reception desk, which was manned by a guard they'd seen quite often since beginning their little psychology project. He shot them both a courteous smile. “How was your interview?” “About as pleasant as one would expect,” Simon replied. He supposed that they might as well follow Tiala's advice when it came to their next conversation. “Is Ini Miney available tomorrow?” The guard looked towards his computer to access the necessary information. As for Athena, she frowned Simon's way before leaning against the counter to address the guard. “No, no, it's Mimi. Mimi Miney.” “Her name is Ini.” “I was looking through the profiles Agent Lang gave us just yesterday, Simon. It said Mimi, clear as day.” “You may want to give that profile a more thorough read before tomorrow. She prefers to be called Ini and the prison's paperwork will reflect that.” “Yep, there she is. Ini Miney,” the guard said, wagging a finger towards the computer screen. “She doesn't have anything else scheduled. Another 2 PM appointment, then?” “Please.” The guard's fingers began to rap against the keyboard and Athena crossed her arms over her chest, looking thoughtful. “I could've sworn Ini was the name of her sister...” When the guard announced that it was all taken care of, Simon thanked him and turned to leave, with Athena following his lead. Then there was a sudden shout of alarm from behind them. “Oh, hold on! I almost forgot...! I was meant to give this to you!” Caught by surprise, Simon turned to face the guard again and saw that something was being lifted up onto the counter. It was a package, addressed to him of all people. Athena got to it first, holding it up with both hands and shaking it. “Oooh, someone sent you a gift! I wonder what it is!” she was saying. Simon snatched it from her grip and when she pouted at him, he stood firm. “I would advise you not to play around with it. It could very well be dangerous.” “Oh please, it went through the prison's security! I'm sure it's fine!” Athena paused, then took a step closer to the package. “But just to be sure, maybe I should listen for any suspicious ticking sounds.” “If you believe the security measures were sufficient, I will take my chances.” Explosives or other dangers aside, Simon had no idea what would've been sent to him, or why. The outside of the package contained very few clues and holding it sideways did not result in any sounds whatsoever. He set it down on the counter, ripped the tape off and opened it. As it turned out, the contents were more harmful than dynamite, in a way. Luke Atmey's autobiography. There was no doubt in his mind which of the inmates would've sent it to him. Simon had stated in Atmey's interview that he didn't have a copy, after all. “What a shame,” Atmey had said, and Simon had verbally agreed. Simply looking at the cover caused a chill to run down Simon's spine. “Did Mr. Atmey...?” Athena mumbled his side. “... Wasn't his execution scheduled for today? Maybe, if it's not too late, we can still-” “It is too late. The executions usually take place around dawn.” “Oh...” Against better judgment, Simon took hold of the book and flipped it open. There, on the blank first page, was a handwritten message. “Be it a hero of a clown, look upon this tragic figure and remember.” ------- Date: June 19th 2028 Time: 2:00 PM Location: Interview Room. There was something off about Ini Miney's face. Simon had already noticed it several years ago and now his gaze was consistently drawn to the problems. The oddest wrinkles had come into being by the corners of her mouth, as well as around her eyes. It was as if the skin didn't quite fit anymore. He supposed it was the downside of facial reconstruction and considering the alternative, Ini had made the only decision she could've. Ultimately, the creases made no difference, as she was still a fetching woman. From her curled red hair to her full lips, most men would dream of someone like her. The trouble was that like most inmates, she was difficult to deal with. When she took her seat before them, she raised her index fingers to her temples, appearing lost in thought. Her therapy animal, a rather large chameleon, was settled on her shoulder. “Ah... Good afternoon, Ms. Miney,” Athena said to her. “Like... I'm sorry, it totally feels like I'm missing something here. The guard said something about, like, an interview? And then Alita was, like, “you gotta go talk to these chumps,” except she was being totally cold about it. So... What's going on?” “You really haven't heard?” Athena looked stunned at the prospect. “We're helping Interpol with a psychology project of sorts.” “Parapsychology?” “No, uh... Real- I mean- Cognitive psychology.” “Then, like, I can't help you. I studied parapsychology.” Ini made to get up from her chair again, only to freeze when Athena cried out. “Whoah! No, hold on! Please, just hear us out, all right? We're interviewing several inmates in the prison and you were selected because you meet our criteria. We just want to ask you some questions about your life and the murder of Dr. Grey.” Ini slipped back into her seat, though she still appeared to be confused. “So, like... Why do you have Simon with you?” “I would prefer you address me as Prosecutor Blackquill,” Simon said. “But I've been, like, calling you Simon for years. You can't just... get yourself acquitted and then expect everyone to, like, forget you were one of us.” Instantly, Simon felt his entire body stiffen. Ini's words didn't sit well with him, most notably because she was speaking the truth. How could he expect them to treat him with respect after all they'd been through together? “... Fine, then. Simon. You will, however, address my esteemed partner as Ms. Cykes and if you do not, there will be consequences of a most dire sort.” “Simon... Honestly...” Athena said with half a groan of discouragement. Such a lack of gratitude wouldn't stop Simon from looking out for her best interests, though. “Like, it's fine with me,” Ini remarked. Athena set up the recording device and, following that, presented Miney with the usual statement. That much seemed to go down just fine, as everything was agreed to without even the slightest apprehension. Still, considering Miney's eagerness to leave the room, Simon expected there would be trouble soon enough. And right out the gate, there it was. “So... I hear that you prefer to be called Ini, is that right?” Athena asked. “Well, that's like... my name.” “I believe that legally, your name is still Mimi.” “Mimi is, like, totally dead.” “She was declared deceased for about a year. However, after the incident with Dr. Turner, that declaration was annulled and Ini Miney was declared deceased instead. You do still remember that, don't you?” For a brief moment, there was something close to spite in Ini's eyes. Then she bowed her head and the chameleon nearly slipped off her shoulder. “Like... Why would you bring that up? Are you totally sadistic or what? Don't you know that's, like, a painful memory?” While Simon drew the validity of that statement into question, Athena must've felt something there, as she backed off. “Oh... I'm sorry. How about we start with something simple, then? Can you tell us something about your childhood? You were raised in Los Angeles, right?” “Right. When I was a kid, we were living in, like, a little apartment near Vitamin Square.” “What was your relationship with your family like?” “Hmmm... Let's see...” Ini began to rub at her temples again. “I used to, like, really look up to my dad? But he walked out on us when I was, like, eight. After that, it was just me, my sis and my mom. We were totally like the three musketeers.” “You mean that the three of you looked out for each other?” “Ooh, that's like... totally what I meant! I got a job as soon as I could to support mom while my sis, like, did all of the chores after school. She went straight from high school to parapsychology studies like a total occult nerd.” Athena stopped writing quite abruptly. She looked towards the folder with Miney's information, then back to her notes. Simon couldn't blame her for her surprise, as he hadn't quite seen this turn of events coming either. He'd never discussed the past with Miney before and so, the discrepancy with the present had never been brought to light. “Ah... Wait. When you say your sis was studying parapsychology, do you mean... Ini?” Athena asked. “Yeah, duh. That was my sister's name.” “So you're admitting that you are actually Mimi?” “Are you, like, stupid? I told you Mimi is dead.” Miney took the chameleon off her shoulder and held it in one hand, watching it slowly traipse up her wrist. Athena had no comeback for that. Her lips parted, but not a single sound came out. As for Simon, he believed he understood the situation. Rather like passing a torch from one hand to another, Ini's identity had been left with the one who had survived the car crash. However, before receiving that proverbial torch, the Ini before them had undoubtedly been the older sister. “Even if Mimi is dead, you still hold her memories. Painful as it may be, we would like to ask you to reflect on her life in more detail. Will that be all right with you?” he asked. “I dunno... That's, like, a total bummer...” “We may attempt to make it worth your while. Perhaps you would like some additional privileges within the prison. A special meal, more access to the work rooms... Name your price.” “Naw... There's nothing that I want. But you two are, like, totally stoked to talk to Mimi, huh? Is your project really that important?” “Definitely,” Athena insisted without missing a beat. “We think that we can make a real difference. Someday, if all goes well, this sort of behavioral science will be able to prevent more tragedies like yours.” “Please. Step into Mimi Miney's shoes one last time,” Simon added. “... All right.” Miney closed her eyes for a few seconds and when next they opened, it was as if a veil had lifted. She was alert. She was there. “You said that you- Mimi got a job as soon as you could, to support your mom and your sister. Was that with the Grey surgical clinic?” Athena asked. “Of course not... Did you think that a fourteen year old could be a nurse? I got a paper route. I delivered papers before school every day.” “Oof... That must've been hard.” “It wasn't too bad. You wanna talk about hard? Try flipping patties and scrubbing floors at Burger Barn.” “You worked at Burger Barn too? Really?” “From sixteen to twenty two. That's when I graduated nursing school and got to working at the surgical clinic. It was an amazing rise in pay. I bought myself the best car ever to celebrate.” Remembering that Mimi Miney's heart went to automobiles, Simon couldn't allow this opportunity to pass him by. He cut into the conversation immediately. “What sort of car would earn itself the label of 'best car ever'? “You seriously don't know? It was a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro SS. I had her imported from the U.K. because you just can't get good old-timers in America anymore. She even had the dual four-barrel crossram intake manifold. Bright red, shiny, leather interior... I gave her a wax job by hand every week.” Ini paused, staring off into the distance. The chameleon, which had been clambering up her arm, slid back down towards her wrist. “Aaah... I miss her.” “That sounds amazing!” Athena proclaimed. “I can't wait to get a car some day! Mr. Wright will be so jealous...!” The idea of Athena behind the wheel of a car gave Simon a bit of a dizzy spell. Perhaps that day would never come. For the sake of anyone who wished to cross the street in relative safety, he certainly hoped not. “This raises the implication that at one point, you were attending nursing school, taking driving lessons and working a part-time job at a burger joint at the same time,” he said to Ini. “So? In case you hadn't noticed, a lot of people are in that same boat,” she snapped at him. “Anyway, I thought everything would get better once I got my job at the clinic. Except that it didn't.” “Really? How many hours a week were you working there?” Athena asked. “Mmmh.... Sometimes fifty five, sometimes over sixty... It was hard to keep track.” “Over sixty?! Isn't that illegal?” “Dr. Grey was too cheap to hire more nurses. He'd force us to work overtime and he'd say that if we weren't willing to invest that much time into the clinic, he'd replace us with someone who would.” “... I think that's definitely illegal...” Athena muttered, though it was unclear who she was addressing at this point. “I take it you were not one of Dr. Grey's most devoted followers?” Simon asked. “Hah. I didn't mind, at first. Overtime meant more money for my family and more money to spend on my car. Who cares if Dr. Grey was a total creep? I took the weekend shifts, I took the night shifts, I stayed a few hours longer when they needed me to... Anything to keep that salary coming.” Simon drew in a deep breath, casting a glance down at a newspaper article. “... Until the malpractice accident.” Miney cringed, recoiling. Her chameleon startled with such ferocity, its skin mimicked the monochromatic stripes of her prison garb sleeve. “You must've been exhausted when it happened,” Athena said quietly. “I was. But... that doesn't excuse anything. I messed up and people died. I was naive enough to believe that Dr. Grey would protect me. After all that hard work I'd been doing for him over the years, I was his favorite nurse. That was what I thought.” Miney hung her head and was silent for a moment. Then she looked up with a hard, spiteful stare. “But that quack doctor... He didn't take so much as a lick of responsibility for what happened. My name and face were smeared all over the news. I couldn't go outside without people calling me a murderer. Someone threw eggs at me in the supermarket. All because Grey kept issuing statements that I was a screw-up and it had nothing to do with his precious clinic's work procedures. A singular case of individual negligence, he kept saying.” Athena hesitated for a moment, then reached out to place her hand atop Miney's own. “I'm so sorry... It must've been very hard on you.” “Those were the worst two weeks of my life...” Miney said. “But Ini... Ini was there with me every day. She tried to protect me from clueless strangers. She took a hiatus from her parapsychology studies to spend time with me. I should've realized it then...” “Realized what?” “... I was putting her in danger.” Simon felt his fingernails dig into the palm of his own hand, that was how hard he was gripping his pen. By his side, Athena breathed something of a strained gasp. The chameleon, now relaxed once more, had returned to its dull brown color. “Do you still believe Dr. Grey caused that car accident?” Athena ultimately asked. “There isn't a doubt in my mind,” Miney replied with the same spiteful stare as before. “I'd barely been allowed to work those past two weeks. Being hounded by paparazzi was exhausting, but not so bad that I'd ever doze off behind the wheel. I would've parked the car by the side of the road for some fresh air before ever allowing that to happen. No, I was drugged and it could only have been him. Why else would that bastard bring a gun to a harmless spirit channeling? He knew that I knew, even in the afterlife, just why I had to die.” “Then... Is revenge the main reason why you agreed to Morgan Fey's plot to murder him and pin the blame on the spirit medium?” “I think... it's because I didn't want him to walk away with the knowledge that Mimi Miney was still alive. I didn't want anyone to know that. If it hadn't been for something as stupid as spirit channeling, no one would've. But...” There was a long pause, then a twisted grin made its way to Miney's lips. “Damn if it didn't feel good to shoot that stupid bastard in the face.” It was remarkable, really, how many of the subjects they'd spoken to believed that their victim had deserved to die. Was that the pattern, then, to the puzzle which needed solving? No, that couldn't be right. Simon made a note to gather up names of those who were genuinely remorseful. There were several of those within the prison walls, he was sure. After a few clicks of his pen, he decided to go on a tangent and ask that which had been bugging him for a while now. “It's curious... Despite your insistence that you wish to remain Ini Miney, you still have a very firm hold on Mimi's identity. Ini is not born from delusion, nor even confusion. She is born from stubborn nature, at best. Why is it that even now, all those years after being exposed and imprisoned for Mimi's crime, you would cling to the persona of Ini instead?” “Isn't that obvious?” Miney asked, her tone of voice so sharp that the chameleon once again started itself into black-and-white stripes. “It's because Mimi should've died that night. Such a useless, friendless murderer...! Ini was the one who deserved to live.” To Be Continued

We’re Just Another Star In a World of a Million Stars

This is based on my own thoughts, it’s nothing dark in particular, just pretty realistic in my opinion.

.

And this is gonna be a long disclaimer, so feel free to skip.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter (but imagine if I did), the Shadowhunter Chronicles, The Maze Runner series, The Hunger Games, Divergent, Twilight, Percy Jackson, Lord of the Rings, the Rold Dahl books, Diary of a Wimpy Kid or Dork Diaries.

-

The clock across the room was reading three a.m, illuminated by the soft moonlight that had managed to sneak through the drapes.

Grantaire looked at Enjolras, lying beside him soundly asleep, and felt a familiar warmth spread through him. Enjolras looked like an angel with his hair spread beneath him, his eyelashes almost touching his cheeks and rosy red lips slightly parted, letting out the occasional snore. He closed his eyes, allowing the bubbling self-hatred well up in his chest.

He had everything he’d ever wanted; a loving boyfriend - the loving boyfriend- friends that would drop everything to be at his side in a blink of an eye, and a steady money source, why was he unhappy then? Most of the time he was, enjoying being with Enjolras and the amis, relishing in the peacefulness painting provided, but it’s at these times, when he was all alone, that the demons surfaced.

What was he doing it all for? The living, loving, what was the point? He could die at any given moment and everything he’d ever done would be for naught. He could die at twenty five, well before his time, and the world will still spin. People will go on with their lives, nothing will come to a still. A person or two may weep over him, but soon everyone will forget him, in less than a year’s time. He’ll be remembered at family gatherings, and whenever his friends felt nostalgic. He’ll be a distant memory, forgotten and only resurrected at the livings’ will. And God, how he wished to have someone reassure him, help fight the demons, but that’s not how it works in real life. You have to tell people how you feel in order for them to comfort you, they can’t read minds.

He reached out to caress Enjolras’s curls, feeling tears sting his eyes. Will Enjolras move on when he dies? Will he find someone else to love? Will he even remember him ten years after his death? Will he be that lover he fondly looked back at, or someone who filled up his time for a while? What will people say at his funeral? Will they say that he touched anyone’s hearts? Changed their lives? Will anyone visit his grave? Or will it be just another abandoned headstone in the middle of an ocean of graves? What will the afterlife be like? If heaven and hell were real, where will he go? He wasn’t really a religious person, hadn’t been to church since he was ten, but he wasn’t exactly a bad person. Not bad enough to deserve hell at least.

And if he does end up going to hell, then that’s no comfort. Being plunged from one hell only to be thrown into another. ‘But at least this world has some good things,’ he thought as he pressed a gentle kiss on Enjolras’s cheek and got up to look at the bookshelves covering half of the room. Half of them were Enjolras’s, a mixture of philosophy, history and law books, but the other half was his. He traced his fingers over the paperbacks’ spines, distinguishing them by the moonlight.

He smiled fondly as he looked at the Harry Potter books, memories of reading the books, laughing and crying as he made his way through the pages running through his head. These books helped helped him through the awkward couple of years that were known as middle school, helped him deal with bullying from his peers and teachers, his friendlessness and the struggle of pasting a smile on his face. Then there were the Shadowhunter Chronicles, a series that had made him yell with joy and bawl his eyes out in agony. He’ll never forget the times he rolled his eyes at Jace’s antics and awed at Magnus and Alec, and God, is he thankful that Izzy put her pride down and admitted her feelings for Simon, though Will Herondale will always be his favourite. That brat everyone hated but loved, who did his best to push everyone away and yet never managed it. His selflessness, running to the institute and away from his family to protect them, accepting the fact that he’s a walking death sentence and yet allowing himself one thing; a parabatai.

Then there was the Maze Runner series, a hate letter to W.I.C.K.E.D. A series of heart wrenching teenage boys that struggle against a corrupt world, only wanting to survive. And Thomas and Newt, the sleepless nights he spent reading fanfiction about them because canon hadn’t done them justice, and God, the nights that he spent crying over the fact that Newt and Sonya never got to know that they were siblings.

He let out a snort that was followed by a few tears when his eyes fell on the Twilight series. He never made it to the last book, but he’d actually enjoyed the first three ones, and yet he’s still spent his time hating on them when he was in the Harry Potter fandom. And then there was Divergent. He had loved the books, not enough to reread them though, sci-fi wasn’t his favourite genre, but he gave it a chance. He never hates on the Divergent characters and even likes looking at edits about them sometimes, but rereading the books was out of question.

A glint caught his eye and he followed it to find himself staring at the Hunger Games books. He liked them a tad bit more than Divergent, and had never hated them all the same. All these pages held precious memories and he’ll never let them go. The Percy Jackson books, Red Queen, Lord of the Rings, -hell even the Rold Dahl books, Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Dork Diaries, were all close to his heart, and he won’t exchange them for the world.

But all these works and characters were immortalized, on these papers, on theatre screens, in fanfiction and fanart. They’ll last till the end of time, and if not till then then for at least another hundred years. As much as the characters comforted him, they’ll comfort other people, be their heroes. They won’t follow him in death because, as much as he hated to admit it, -and as empty as the words felt- they weren’t real.

He didn’t know what the afterlife was like, but if anything, he was sure that it didn’t have the same things as this world, or else there would be no point. He won’t be able to listen to the songs that got him through his parents’ fights or the ones that helped him get up in the morning. He won’t be able to do anything, especially if he was in eternal torture.

A soft groan came from the bed and he turned to see Enjolras making a grabby hand at the empty side of the bed. He smiled and went over to his lover, getting in bed and wrapping his arms around him, his smile widening when Enjolras made a happy sound. His thoughts will never be banished by the knowledge that he has a world to live in now and people to love and love him back, and he was in no way content with that, but he didn’t really have a say in the matter, and there was nothing he could do about that.

And so life went on, Grantaire lived and loved and, as predicted, died at twenty-five. His funeral was a quiet affair, his friends wept but his lover sat motionless, still in denial. Years passed and his friends got married happily, always remembering him at Christmas and Thanksgiving. But Enjolras never forgot him, not for a moment, and it was all he could do to keep going and not follow his lover.

-

Like I said, I wanted to keep it realistic. Grantaire was perfectly healthy, he didn’t have cancer or any other health issue, sometimes people just die, out of nowhere, and there is nothing we can do about it. Take Cameron Boyce as an example; while he did have a health condition, his situation wasn’t really bad, but something just happened in a moment and then he was gone. I don’t know if Dove Cameron has really made peace with his death and I don’t know if she’s trying to make herself see a reason to go on with all her Instagram posts, but it’s touching how dearly she loved Cameron Boyce, and it’s more than any of us will ever get. (The message might seem vaguely familiar to you from The Fault In Our Stars) He only had twenty years, but he made more of them than any of us could hope to. This fic was not written with Cameron Boyce in mind, but he is a pretty good example for the message I’m trying to convey.

Another One Bites The Dust (AOBTD) ~ Chapter 23

Warning(s): Explicit Language. Fluff - Negan’s being a soft boy! Angst. Mentions of infertility. Slight violence? (You’ll see what I mean at the end.) Slight time jump, but it’s explained in the story. 

Author’s Note(s):

Hey, y’all! Sorry for not posting a chapter update last week. I got a little tied up with my homework, since the semester ends in just a couple weeks.

If you wanna be added to my taglist, feel free to let me know and I’ll add you! :)

Taglist: @negans-network , @thamberlina , @prettyboynegan , @mychemicalimagines  @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 , 

Previous Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.  Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two.

Chapter 23 ~ Before You Start Your Day

Over the next few weeks, we settle into a rhythm. The doc still wants me on bedrest, so Tim and Jeffrey are the ones that get up in the middle of the night if one of the kids cry, or need to be changed. When they need to be fed, one of their fathers bring ‘em over to me, and I feed ‘em, burp ‘em, and just lie with ‘em.

Most nights, I fall asleep before my husbands do, with both of my kids tucked in on either side of me. Angel comes in and sits with her siblings when she doesn’t have to go to class and before bed. She’s excited to have both Rosie and Sammy in the family. 

I’ve heard stories of her running ‘round the Sanctuary, telling everyone ‘bout her baby brother and sister. Alyss stops by every day to check on me and the twins. We’ll play cards, board games, or do magic tricks. Whenever Negan gets back from a run, he’ll come back with my husbands to see the babies for a while before he and Alyss head to their room for the night.

Every morning before they head to do their stuff, Tim and Jeffrey both cuddle with me before checking on the kids and heading out. After about three weeks of bed rest, the doc finally clears me and gives me the all clear. This particular morning, I wake up before my husbands. 

I smile as I wake up cuddling the front of Tim’s body, my face tucked into his chest, with Jeffrey’s arms wrapped somewhat tightly ‘round my waist from behind. We’ve gotten to where we sleep with me in the middle, Jeffrey on the left side of the bed, and Tim on the right side. 

Some mornings I wake up facing Jeffrey with Tim behind me, other mornings are like today. The boys both say that sleeping like this makes it easier for ‘em to check on the kids. While that might be somewhat true, I know the real reason is ‘cause they both love having me in their arms as they sleep.

And, if I’m gonna be completely honest, sleeping like this makes me feel safe. I wiggle closer to Tim, which has Jeffrey grunting in his sleep and snuggling closer to me so that his chest’s still pressed to my back. I giggle before I kiss Tim’s chest, right above his heart. 

He mumbles something in his sleep and his arms tighten ‘round me. I feel a scruffy kiss against my shoulder blade, and look over at Jeffrey. He’s got his eyes barely open, and a sleepy smirk playing on his lips.

“Mornin’, doll.” He murmurs.

I giggle. “Mornin’, honey.”

His smirk gets bigger. I roll over, still staying in the arms of both my husbands, and face Jeffrey. I wiggle forward and kiss his forehead. His eyes drift close and his smirk turns into a sleepy smile.

“Go back to sleep, babe.” I whisper.

“But I like your kisses.” He replies with a big yawn.

I giggle and kiss his cheek. I decide to place a few more gentle kisses across his face – on his other cheek, his chin, and the tip of his nose. He lets out a quiet, playful growl and another yawn.

“Get some sleep.” I tell him again.

He yawns and nods his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Just as he’s ‘bout to doze off again, I hear him mumble something. I smile as I realize what it is.

“I love you to the moon and back, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, honey. More than you’ll ever know.” I reply, even though I know he’s already back asleep.

I wiggle out of the safe embrace of my husbands and climb outta bed. I get dressed in a pair of blue jeans, one of Jeffrey’s black t-shirts, and Tim’s dark blue flannel shirt. I walk over to the basinet that has my kids in it. I look down at ‘em and smile, my heart swelling with love. 

They’re both awake, not making any noises, but rather, cuddling each other. They really are absolutely precious. I reach down and scoop Rosie up into my arms. Sammy’s bottom lip quivers, but he doesn’t make a sound. I lean down and kiss his forehead to soothe him.

He relaxes and I step away to change Rosie’s diaper. I know her name is Roselyn, but I love the nickname that Jeffrey gave her. Sammy got his nickname from Negan, and it just stuck. Once I have my little girl all cleaned up and in a new diaper and outfit, I set her back down in the basinet and pick Sammy up to repeat the process with him. 

After I’ve got him situated, I write a quick note for my husbands to read when they wake up.

My loves, I’ll be downstairs with the babies when y’all wake up. I wanna get outta the room for a bit. I love y’all so very much.

I place it by Tim’s beside table so he can see it when he wakes up. I don’t want ‘em to worry when they wake up and don’t see the twins and I in the room. I pick Rosie up, and get my kids situated in my arms. I walk outta the bedroom, and head downstairs to the dining area. 

I run into Simon on the third floor. He grins when he sees me.

“Leigh! It’s good to see you! How you feelin’?” He asks, falling into step with me.

“I’m feelin’ great. I’m glad I’m finally able to leave the room. Bein’ cooped up is not my strong suit.” I say.

He chuckles. “Well, it’s good to have you up and about. And to see the kiddos.”

I smile. “You sure do love ‘em, don’t you?”

“Yea. It’s good to have babies ‘round. Gives us hope and reminds us that there’s still good left in this fucked up world.”

“Simon! Language!” I tease. “There are little ears present.”

He laughs. “Sorry.”

I grin. “It’s ok. But, I get what you mean. Plus, they’re adorable!”

“Yea. They are.”

Simon and I joke around as we make our way down the rest of the stairs and into the dining area. He stands beside me as we wait in line to get some food. Suddenly, everyone in the room drops to their knees. Myself included, which is kind of a difficult task, considering my body is still a little sore, and I’ve got two infants in my arms. 

I hear the heavy footfall of boots as they walk closer to Simon and I.

“Shit, Half Pint. Stand up.” I hear Negan say.

I struggle to stand up, and I feel two strong hands help me up. I look up at Negan.

“You don’t have to kneel ‘round me, Half Pint. You know this.” He says, softly.

“Everyone else does.” I say.

“You’re not everyone else.”

Sammy decides to let out a wail, drawing Negan’s attention to him. I try to soothe my son, but it’s to no avail. My brother-in-law smiles as he looks down at his nephew. He looks up at me.

“Besides, you’ve got the kids with you.” He says. “You don’t kneel ‘round me. Period. ‘Specially when you’ve got these two little munchkins.”

“Ok, Negan.” I reply.

“Can I hold him?” He gestures to Sammy.

I nod. Negan happily scoops his nephew up in his arms, and cradles him. Sammy quiets down immediately as he nuzzles against the leather of his uncle’s jacket. Negan lets out a chuckle.

“Boss.” Simon says from beside me.

He’s still kneeling, and so is everyone else in the room.

“Shit.” Negan says before bellowing, “As you were!”

Everyone stands up again and the bustle of the kitchen gets back to what it was before Negan walked in. Negan stays beside Simon and I in line. The person in front of me in line turns to look back at the big boss man.

“Sir. You can go ahead of me. If you’d like.” The young man says with a shaky voice.

Negan chuckles. “I know, but I don’t want to.”

The young man’s brow furrows. “Sir?”

“I don’t want to move up in line this mornin’. I’ve got a cute little man in my arms. I want to spend some time with him, so I’m gonna wait.”

The young man smiles. “Yes, sir.”

He turns around. I look up at Negan, grinning and shaking my head. He looks at me, an amused expression on his face.

“What?” He asks, grinning.

I shake my head. “Nothing. You just love your nephew.”

“Damn fuckin’ straight I fuckin’ do!”

“Negan! Language!”

“Shit!”

“Negan!”

He laughs, but looks regretful. “Sorry, Half Pint.”

“Mmhhmm. You’re not really sorry, are you?”

He shrugs. “Kind of? I know you don’t want us cussing ‘round the youngins, and I’ll respect your wishes, but eventually, they’re gonna hear me cuss.”

I laugh. “You’re right. I still accept your apology.”

He grins. “Thanks.”

I smile, shaking my head. He drops his head to look at Sammy. I look down at Rosie and notice that she’s just looking up at me. I see Negan jump slightly as he stands beside me. I look and notice that Alyss has come up behind him and wrapped her arms ‘round him. 

She rests her head against his back.

“Hey, pretty boy.” She says to him.

The smile on his face gets bigger. “Hi, sweetheart.”

She moves to stand in front of him. She smiles as soon as she sees me with Rosie in my arms. She gives me a light hug.

“Hey, kiddo.” She says.

“Hey, bud.” I reply. “Hey. Can you do me a favor?”

She nods. “Of course.”

“Will you hold Rosie for a just a sec?”

Alyss grins and happily takes my daughter. We move up in line. I stretch my arms out, and fix Tim’s flannel. I reach for my daughter, and Alyss pouts, but hands her over. I chuckle. Within a few minutes, we reach the food, and wait for our trays. 

I watch as Negan grabs a tray with one hand and keeps Sammy tucked against his chest with his other hand. I go to grab a tray, but Alyss snags it for me before I can.

“I got you, kid. You just hold onto Rosie.” She says.

I smile. “Thanks, bud.”

She grins and nods as she grabs a tray for herself. Once Simon has a tray, we all go sit at the table in the back corner of the dining area. Negan likes to sit back here so he can keep an eye on things while he eats. Alyss sits beside him, and Simon sits beside me across from my best friend and brother-in-law. 

Negan cradles Sammy with his left arm as he eats with his right hand. He makes it seem like it’s a natural thing for him to do. I struggle a bit at first, but quickly get the hang of eating with one hand and holding my daughter with the other. Alyss finishes eating before I do, and reaches for Rosie.

Negan glances down at his wife as she cradles my daughter, with a cute, dimpled smile on his face. He lifts his gaze and glances at me. I give him a smile in return. I can tell he’s happy. This is as close to having kids as he’s gonna get. I dunno if Alyss has told him, but she can’t have kids. 

I know Negan wants kids of his own, ‘specially after he was gonna once be a father. Since I know what I know ‘bout the two of ‘em, I don’t have an issue letting ‘em get close to my kids. ‘Sides, they’re family. Negan looks above my shoulder and his grin widens.

I jump when I feel two different hands on my shoulders. My first reaction is to bring the fork in my left hand up and go to stab the hand on my right shoulder. Simon stops me before the fork can connect with flesh. I glare at him, but he shakes his head.

“It’s ok, Leigh.” He says.

“Were you ‘bout to stab me, doll?”

Worldbuilding 7 – Keeping Things Classy

Hullo again, Gentle Readers. In this series of articles, I’ve been developing a campaign setting for D&D 5e, which I’ve come to call Beyond the Borderlands. Last time, we explored the first group of Player’s Handbook classes, seeing how the barbarian, bard, cleric, druid, and fighter could inform details about the campaign setting. We extrapolated some valuable data, and I feel that some of the details that came out of that article gave me a better handle on elements of my world such as religion, organizations, and what life is like in the wilderness areas that the Borderlands help guard against. In this article, we’ll look at other batch of classes from the Player’s Handbook: the monk, paladin, ranger, and rogue. 

Monks have always held a strange place in D&D. They’ve been around since the earliest editions, but they’ve always felt a little shoehorned in, like Gary Gygax had a friend who was really into martial arts or something. While 4E gave me a good direction to go (linking monks to psionics allowed me to work in the Far Realm, the Kalashtar, and more, explaining why monks felt so alien), I’m unconvinced I have an easy way to add them to Beyond the Borderlands. 

In the Real World, the Martial Arts that Monks use developed because of tyrannical rulers who outlawed weapons. That doesn’t jibe with a society with weaponsmiths, fighters, and the like. So the next logical choice would be people who voluntarily eschew weapons. This fits with the idea of monasteries…perhaps the first Monks of this variety chose not to use weapons, and it’s only now, later in years, that those monks sometimes use weapons (to reflect that monks get quite a few weapons to be proficient with). This lends itself to an entertaining image, since these monks could resemble classic European monks, with the brown robes, sandals, and such. I will ponder on this, but my jury is still out.

In some ways, the Paladin is the ultimate good-buy of the D&D world. They swear oaths to their gods, devoting their lives to a holy path. Once upon a time, they were all lawful good, but that has been slowly slipping away, and D&D 5e continues this trend. The Paladins of 5e can be any alignment, suggesting there can be paladins of the powers of Chaos that I’ve been setting up as the major antagonists of the campaign. 

At first glance, the section on Paladins doesn’t yield much beyond this. Both the Oath of Devotion and the Oath of Vengeance suggest that paladins are specifically dedicated to knighthood and a code of chivalry. This is one of the reasons that I included a deity of chivalry in my section on clerics. The Oath of the Ancients, however, yields some interesting thoughts. If Barbarians are to Paladins as Druids are to Clerics, then what is the role of the Oath of the Ancients? Perhaps they are there to guide the balance between the natural world and the civilized world? This makes them natural choices to play on the Borderlands.

From almost the moment in Lord of the Rings that we meet Aragorn, we understand that he’s a ranger and that he’s protecting civilization from the enemies that would drag it down. This archetype slipped into D&D early on, and it remains a strong concept of the game.  

The description of rangers is very evocative, portraying them as wanderers at the edge of civilization, which fits perfectly with my concept of the Borderlands. It also suggests that they work closely with Druids, who, according to my earlier thoughts, often live over the border in the Wilderlands. This fits nicely, and it suggests that druids truly straddle the line of civilization and the wild. Oath of the Ancients paladins are in civilization, rangers are just on the edge, of civilization, and barbarians and druids are just over the side of the wild. They might all work together, but it may be a tenuous alliance to hold back chaos. 

In many other editions of D&D, Rangers had to choose a particular monster that they fight against. That makes it tricky for the DM to make sure the ranger’s enemies show up frequently enough for this choice to be relevant. Rangers in 5e choose between being specialized in single big monsters or hordes of small monsters. I think this is a very smart move, since it means so many different monsters will give the ranger a chance to shine. It doesn’t suggest much in the way of story, but it’s a great decision. 

It’s hard not to love the Rogue. Like the Barbarian, one can see their origins in fantasy literature characters like Conan, (who was often a thief), Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser, and the denizens of the Thieves’ World stories, especially Shadowspawn. From their origins as the Thief back in the old days, they’ve evolved as the paragon of skill users, doing things that most characters can only dream of. They’ve always walked a thin line with the concepts of law, and they’ve stolen their way into the hearts of many players. 

Two fairly generic paths pop up with the Rogue – Assassination and Thievery. Thievery is fairly straight-forward – you are a criminal, or, at least, someone who has run afoul of the law. I love criminals who are now working for the forces of good. I think it’s a very evocative idea. Even more so, I love a note mentioned in the Assassination section that suggests that some who follow this path do so to rid the world of evil. I love this idea immensely. It makes me think of a dark avenger concept. The Arcane Trickster archetype, however, makes it feel like this could be a particular order. Maybe this is what the tieflings have brought to the party (vs. the dragonborn giving us the Eldritch Knight, as mentioned in the last article).

I love thief guild concepts, so I suspect there will be some of this in my setting, at least in the largest cities. More so, however, I like the idea of an organization of assassins dedicated to destroying evil. I jot down the name Shadow Angels and think that it might have an origin story similar to Inigo Montoya from The Princess Bride. I think also of the Faceless Men from A Song of Ice and Fire and their philosophical attitude towards killing people. I think this could add a lot of flavor to my setting. 

Again, we have elements of our setting coming from the classes of the game. Although we have hints of other classes in the offing, such as warlocks, sorcerers, warlords, and the like, we can’t yet speak to them. Perhaps when we can, we’ll be able to add more details to Beyond the Borderlands, but we’ve certainly added more to what we had thanks to the classes of the game. Next article, we’ll look at the role of the spellcasters of the game, including some that have been offered in Unearthed Arcana articles.

I know it's a lot! But all of the 65 questions you aren't used to!! I love getting to know the blogs I follow!

Okay love! The last one was a freebie so I guess I’ll just leave that one out haha.

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

Na, usually it’s the opposite for me. I don’t feel important enough to be real.

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

Maybe a 3? I don’t mind the dark as long as my imagination isn’t getting the best of me, which it usually is. I always have my little touch-activated lamp in my room left on at the dimmest setting at night.

3. The person you would never want to meet?

Donald Trump.

4. What is your favorite word?

Drumonios. It’s an Ancient Greek epithet of Artemis, and it means “haunting the woods.” (hey, no one said English word)

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

*in Monty Python voice* THE LARCH

No, but in all seriousness, I’d be a willow. So gentle and comforting, like the tree leaning over to hug you and give you shade.

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

Yikes.

7. What shirt are you wearing?

A black shirt with images of moon phases that says “to the moon and back”

8. What do you label yourself as?

Is this a gender/sexual identity question??? Cuz if not I could label myself as anything. But genderwise I’m a cis female and orientation-wise I’m lesbian, biromantic, possibly somewhere on the ace spectrum?

9. Bright room or dark room?

Dark room. Or mostly dark. Dim with a yellowish lamp because I hate white lights.

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Talking to my gf on the phone.

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

tbh this year, 19. My anxiety’s been better than it ever was. I haven’t been actively suicidal at all this year. I’m just in a better place all around.

12. Who told you they loved you last?

Probably my mom?

13. Your worst enemy?

Myself

14. What is your current desktop picture?

15. Do you like someone?

Romantically? My girlfriend. In general? Everyone who hasn’t crossed me.

16. The last song you listened to?

Right now I’m listening to LA Devotee by Panic! At The Disco :)

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Donald Trump, while he’s in a cabinet meeting so it blows up everyone else there too

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Donald Trump or my ex

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

I don’t really want a slave? Kinda against the whole idea? But ig Thomas Jefferson bc he needs to know what it feels like (Hamilton pettiness coming out oops)

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

My eyes! Idk if I have a picture that shows them really well? But you can check my selfies tag. They’re deep hazel green with gold flecks.

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

I would look like historical Alexander Hamilton and I would hang out in history museums freaking people out.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

Wouldn’t be a secret if I told you. ;) But seriously, I’m not very private about my talents because I’m proud of them. I write, read, make up codes, solve puzzles, sing, do calligraphy. Sometimes my eyeshadow looks decent.

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

Most of the unique things are PTSD triggers. The rest of my fears are just normal.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

Grilled mac and cheese sandwich.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Put it towards saving up for a Switch so I can get the new Pokemon game when it comes out this fall.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

The British Isles, where I will do historical tours and live in the Highlands for a year.

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

I don’t drink, I’m pretty against it in part because my uncle’s a recovering alcoholic, but I’d say strawberry daquiris? Idk brands, man.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

Socialism and if you’re gonna mess up the process and turn it into communism then you’re off the island.

29. What is your favorite expletive?

Fuckweasel. Thanks, Raven Cycle.

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

My phone I guess?

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Nothing. As much as I hate what I’ve been through (assault by my ex, manipulation by my dad) it’s taught me so much strength and made me who I am. I know red flags. I came out of my shell. I know how to say no, how to cut out toxic family.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

Scotland.

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

FDR. We have a polio vaccine and he was my favorite president.

34. What was your last dream about?

I was doing a crossword puzzle but, like, it never ended. And the clues kept changing every time I started to write the answer. It sucked.

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

Nothing was inserted haha so yes. I am a good.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

Twice. Once as a baby for my open heart surgery, and once when I was 4 for severe dehydration from the flu.

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

Yes but it’s been like 13 years.

38. What is the color of your socks?

Light blue and white stripes.

39. What type of music do you like?

Pop, rock, folk, Celtic, classical, old country, like, Woodie Guthrie, and some new country like Kelsea Ballerini.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

SUNSETS

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

Cherry!

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

Um, I guess the OSU Buckeyes cuz that’s where I live and I hate pro football.

43. Do you have any scars?

I have a huge scar down my chest from my heart surgery, a few self harm scars left, and quite a few from old cat scratches. Also my left knee is covered with scars from being a clumsy child. And I have small birthmarks which correlate to past life injuries which is fun

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

A librarian/history or English teacher

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

My weight.

46. Are you reliable?

Sometimes I flake on plans bc of mental illness, but yes. I am a strong shoulder to lean on, and I will always be there for you.

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

Am I trying for the right things?

48. Do you hold grudges?

Not consciously. But there are certain things I haven’t been able to forgive just yet.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

Sloth dragon. Sloth with little back scales and wings who flies very slowly and breathes fire when threatened.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

My mom and I have the funniest conversations. I couldn’t pick one. Every day between us is just hysterical.

51. Are you a good liar?

Yes. But I don’t lie anymore except when I have to.

52. How long could you go without talking?

Probably forever as long as I could write or text.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

When I was 9 I decided to get a shoulder length bob. My hair did not approve. Constant white-fro. I don’t have a picture of it full glory, but this is after having it styled, at age 11, as flat as it would go.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

Noooo I suck at baking. I’ve made cookies though.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

British, I guess? I do a good Hermione.

56. What do you like on your toast?

Butter lmao I’m classic

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

Uhhh I sketched a flower on my church bulletin last week? Nothing fancy. I don’t draw.

58. What would be you dream car?

‘67 Impala baby.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I, uh give political speeches to the showerhead? It’s the Hamilton mood.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

I definitely believe we can’t live in a universe infinitely big all by ourselves.

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

I don’t read my actual horoscope, but I look at those zodiac posts a lot, and I know my full birth chart.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

A and S.

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Both. Dinsoaurs could have been dragons, we don’t know.

64. What do you think about babies?

They’re okay til they cry or poop or throw up lmao.

Thanks bb!

To help with my lack of motivation!!!

I’ve decided to start writing for my OC characters here! I did have a side blog, BUT it’s just... a LOT of work to try to write for both blogs when I can just merge the two together!

So! I will be posting snippets of my OCs and their lives! If y’all are interested, please feel free to IM or even send in an ask! I’ll answer any questions if there are any!

The reason I’ll be doing this: Because this blog is mainly Haikyuu, yeah? Which is great! I love Haikyuu! And so do you all! BUT I also like other things! I like my OCs (which are not Haikyuu related at all)!!! 

I think this addition will make me much happier... and even help my writing skill grow! 

Obviously, this doesn’t mean I’m going to STOP writing for HQ altogether! I still have a GREAT number of requests in the box! And I’m working on them a little everyday! But I also like writing for my OCs! So I’ll be just adding that onto the content you all.... rarely see on this blog anyway lmao

Anyway! My OCs and general info about them is below!

Kiara: Goddess of War (Fuck Athena lmao) Mayan Native, generally an even attitude, though a short temper/little time for nonsense, doesn’t like the gods/doesn’t trust them. Rough Childhood - like traumatic - Thousands of years old, looks about 28 at most. Hispanic Hottie ;d - dark hair that she grows and cuts at random - dark red eyes - tribal/fire tattoos that fade almost completely into her already tanned skin - pretty short? About 5′4″-5′5″ - Curvy figure! By curves I mean moderate bust and butt, but she’s got a tone body from her constant training! She can control fire/lava and can pretty much make herself a super nova in desperate situations.

Ikal/Joshua: Kiara’s son! God of Mischief (Fuck Loki lmao) Mayan Native, Happy go lucky! Super optimistic! Can befriend literally anyone! Very patient and kind, gentle but able. He’s got his mama’s temper tho! Pretty rough childhood... not as bad as his mothers, but still bad. Thousands of years old, looks 26 at most. Hispanic Cutie :3 - dark short hair - wide dark brown eyes - tribal/runic tattoos that fade almost completely into his already tanned skin - P tol! About 5′10-5′11! Lean and tone, a hunter’s body! Really good with bow and arrow attacks, he can create illusions of himself/what people see - really good at mind games!

Aidan: God of Darkness. Caucasian American, born and raised in NY as a trust fund baby! Womanizer/dickhead - Arrogant and Rude/Demanding - Had traveled the World a dozen times and slept with women from every single country/state/region within! A new God - Cocky about his powers, though he genuinely doesn’t like them, can control shadows. About 29 years old when he was made into an immortal. Black short hair - hard gray eyes that always seem to be judging/analyzing - white boi! - V tol! About 6′0-6′1! Takes care of his body to impress the ladies ;D In between Built and Lean! Works as CEO of a huge company his parents made from the ground up after they pass in a tragic accident.

Markus: God of Destruction. Tanned Spaniard. Very distant in anything he does due to his power - with a single touch he can completely crumble anything regardless of it’s makeup. Gets pretty defensive pretty easily - but very vindictive when pushed too far. Dislikes Kiara bc she pushed him into the immortal life, though he wouldn’t give it up if he was asked. Loves Joshua like his own son/brother! Pretty even childhood, horribly disrupted when he turned 25 and almost died from an attack in his city. Thousands of years old - younger than both Kiara and Joshua - looks about 24. Spanish hottie ;d - slightly shaggy dark brown hair, doesn’t go past the tips of his ears, likes to push his hair back from his face in a slicked back style - green/blue eyes - P tol! About 5′11-6′0! a bit more built than Joshua but less so than Aidan. He’s a drifter, only finding fixed homes when he’s located Kiara to mess up her living in that area.

- Different Universe w/o Gods -

Caine: Asshole. Twin brother of Sam. Caucasian American, born and raised in San Francisco, CA. Hot-headed, Cruel, Aggressive and Rude - doesn’t give a single fuck about anything, very abrasive/harsh. Distrusting of everyone - due to how he was ‘raised’. A thief for a living - steals from the rich for him and his brother to live comfortable. A complete criminal, always carries a gun/knife on him somewhere. Moved to Los Angeles, CA with his brother for College - Getting a degree in (literally can not remember... I’ll insert it when I’m reminded of it!). Dirty Blond, slightly messy, hair - Emerald/Jade green eyes that change shade with his moods - White Boi! With a Californian Tan - P tol! About 5′11-6′0! In between lean and built. Has tons of scars on his body from a horribly traumatic childhood. Surfer boi! Ocean helps clear his head. Great at hand to hand combat, but a nasty drunk when he hits his super lows. Hates Sam in the worst of times, tolerates him in the best.

Samuel “Sam”: Sweetheart! Twin brother of Caine. Caucasian American, born and raised in San Francisco, CA. Kind and sweet - gives a lot of fucks for everyone around him, even if they’re complete strangers. Very gentle/generous. Not gullible, but very trusting of other people. Compassionate for his brother’s upbringing. The tech of the ‘team’ - disables the cameras and security systems for Caine when they go on their ‘runs’. Doesn’t like to carry around weapons, but knows not only how to use one, but also how to disarm and disassemble weapons of any kind in a split second. Moved to Los Angeles, CA with his brother for college - Getting a degree in Law - in case he and Caine ever get caught. Dirty Blond, slightly messy, hair - Sky/Ocean blue eyes that change shade with his moods - White Boi! With a Californian Tan - P tol! About 5′11-6′0! In between lean and built! Only has 1-2 scars from childhood accidents/defending his brother. Good at defending himself in any combat, usually has to hold back his brother from going and killing a bitch. Adores his brother and will do anything to protect him from further neglect.

Annnnnddd that’s about it! Like I said above, if you wanna know more (or even ask them questions) just shoot something into the ask box! 

And please expect some pieces from their lives to be posted on here every now and then!

-Admin Satori <3

Hiraeth

@gabriel-monthly-challenge  @lauqueluster @archangel-with-a-shotgun @revwinchester

Summary: Gabriel remembers everything about his family, the good, the bad, and the things he wishes he could forget. After all, these are the memories that led him to this point, to this battle, to this trick.

Word Count: 1,174

Prompt:  Hiraeth - A Welsh word that is quite difficult to translate into English. Homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, or for a home which may have never been; an intense form of longing or nostalgia, wistfulness; the grief for the lost places of your past.

Warnings: A ridiculous amount of angst (Idk what happened, guys...)

Author’s Note: So, this is my first Supernatural fanfic and I hope you all enjoy it! If you do, feel free to shoot me an ask with prompts of your own that you’d like me to write and have a look at these prompts or these prompts or even these prompts! I’d love to write some for y’all!

Enjoy!

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

Archangels, Heaven's most powerful weapon, a force strong enough to level entire cities with the snap of their fingers. He was one of them, or he had been, perhaps a lifetime ago, a time before he adopted the guise of Loki, a time before he fled Heaven.

The whispers, the ever-present Angel Radio kept him informed, it had erupted when Lucifer was released. It was then that he buried himself deeper and deeper into the Pagan world, distancing himself from his brothers. Until he couldn't. Until he caught wind of Kali's conference and their intended guests of honor: Sam and Dean Winchester.

They brought it on themselves, they let Lucifer out, let them deal with him.

He had brushed aside any notion of assisting them, forcing the twisted sense of responsibility back into the depths from which it crept. He couldn't escape who he was, try as he might, he couldn't snap away his role as an archangel, but he could forget.

He could forget the war with Amara, Lucifer's fall, the agony in Michael's eyes when Chuck banished their second oldest brother to the cage. Gabriel didn't want to remember Raphael's reluctance, his quiet, yet commanding nature, the way he supported Michael at every turn, the way he stepped back and let the eldest dictate the way Heaven was run.

He left Heaven to escape it all, Chuck's abandonment, Lucifer's fall, Michael's control and Raphael's submission. Yes, yes, they were family, but what good had family ever done him?

He found a home amongst the Pagans, the role of Loki suited him. He did as he pleased, avoided angelic interference and served "just desserts", he was satisfied. He should have known it wouldn't--couldn't last, not when it came to his family. Not when Lucifer had finally escaped the Cage, not when his big brother was hell-bent on re-making the world in his image and certainly not when Michael was out for blood.

Why couldn't things go back to way they were? Brothers watching over humanity, no wars, no angel versus angel battles, just peace. How he longed for it to be over, for the battle to pass as nothing more than a fleeting thought instead of a full blown war.

The Winchesters certainly weren't going to play their roles, he'd learned that a long time ago. The brothers were borderline suicidal when it came to one another, Sam sacrificing himself for Dean, Dean quite literally going to Hell and back for his little brother. If Gabriel didn't know better, he'd say they reminded him of his own family. Yet, it didn't change the fact that they didn't stand a chance against the Pagans, they needed his help.

This was why he found himself staring down the Devil himself, angel blade in hand, Winchesters and Kali safely outside and fleeing the archangel showdown. It was here that Gabriel recalled their childhood, the time Lucifer had spent teaching him tricks and tactics, gags and games to pass the time. It was here that Gabriel stared into his big brother's eyes and saw reluctance and resentment rather than love and affection.

They traded jabs, remarks intended to distract and, hopefully, disarm the brewing storm behind Lucifer's eyes. After everything they'd been through, Gabriel would give anything to see the warmth in his brother's eyes again, to see the brotherly affection cross his features as he slung an arm around the youngest archangel's shoulder and demonstrated a new trick before his eyes.

He longed to see Lucifer and Michael trade sparring blows, a smile permanently etched into their features as Lucifer tried and failed to gain the upper hand against their eldest brother, Michael's laugh echoing in his ears as he pinned his brother to the ground time after countless time. The eldest would always emerge victorious, and Lucifer wouldn't stand a chance; not then, and certainly, not now. Gabriel could almost see the amused glint in Chuck's eyes as he watched his sons wrestle, Raphael and Gabriel too enthused by the action to notice their Father's gentle smile.

Those times had passed, and Lucifer's fury had carved itself into his features, eyes flashing crimson when Gabriel defended mankind, rejecting the eldest two archangels and their respective crusades. It wasn't until Lucifer's expression softened that Gabriel tightened his grip on the angel blade.

There was a tenderness behind his eyes, an expression laced with remorse and dread, "Brother, don't make me do this."

Defiance flared. "No one makes us do anything."

He was right, Gabriel was right, no one could force their hand, control their actions, or dictate their course. The brothers were alike in that sense: Lucifer rebellion against God's commands, unable to accept the creation of humanity. Gabriel, his rebellion against Heaven, against their strict laws and regulations that prevented them from exercising free will. So alike, yet so different.

It was here that Gabriel found himself staring into his big brother's eyes, warmth replaced with icy detachment, an archangel blade buried hilt-deep in the youngest's torso. He was in tears, betrayal and turmoil in his eyes as honeyed hues met blue, desperation gripping him just as one hand gripped Lucifer's.

"Don't forget, little brother, you learned all your tricks from me."

A twist and a mixture of brilliant blue and white flashed behind his eyes, engulfing the room in a blinding display of loss and betrayal. His body crumpled to the floor, winged imprints splayed on the carpeted floor at the Devil's feet.

It was here that Gabriel watched from the corner of the room, witnessing the loss and agony in his brother's expression as he stood over Gabriel's corpse.

Another trick, just like you taught me, brother.

Lucifer's eyes mirror that of Michael's eons before, when he was banished to the Cage. The suffering evident in the eldest's posture as Raphael laid a comforting hand on his big brother's shoulder. They all knew it had to be done, the fallen archangel was a cancer to humanity, he would corrupt them to no end if he hadn't been stopped.

It was then that their world crumbled, when they all realized that there was no return, no chance of reclaiming their child-like innocence, their inseparable nature. It was then that Lucifer was permanently alienated, it was then that Raphael became completely and utterly loyal to Michael and his vision for Heaven. It was this time, this date that Michael swore to obey his Father's every command, to be the good son, the perfect soldier. And it was then that Gabriel realized he couldn't watch his brothers tear at each others' throats, when he discovered the void they'd never fill again, when he decided that he had to leave.

There was no redemption, no means of repairing the damage done by Lucifer's fall. They had been a family once and he loved them, but they could never return to the home, to the memories they shared.

It was too late for his family, but maybe, just maybe, it wasn't too late for the Winchesters.

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

(This was my first SPN fic, and I suppose it should be included in the taglist now)

Tagging:

SPN: @heaven-hell-imagines

Gabriel folks: @thewhiterabbit42

Genesis

Following is the long awaited, first half of the chapter Genesis from my novel, Be Not Afraid; Memoirs of the Bound. This teaser should speak for itself. Follow the main characters memories of the Heavens and key historical events, but start off with their take of the Early Earth.

I hope you all enjoy! If you’re interested in finding out more, feel free to follow here, or consider becoming a patron on Patreon, where for just $1 (£0.77 or €0.85) a month you can gain access to the FULL first chapter Genesis (four times the length of this excerpt!) and many, many more bonus features. And, as always, thank you all so much!

I remember a time when the Earth was without humans; O what a time that was. 

I remember their beginning, and I remember long before. I remember watching from home through the Asterium, a fancy observatory more or less, at a cloud of celestial debris that one day would be the entire star system I now, albeit reluctantly, name home. There was a time when I could walk across the surface of a planet you would call hellish; when the ground underfoot was burning and a molten ocean of all manner of metal, and when the frigid breeze reeked of brimstone and ammoniac salt. I remember walking along ridges with erupting fire and molten rock, letting the subterranean heat soothe my aching soles as the weak sunlight struggled to heat my back.

The sky was a thick admiral blue like seashells when the noon was high, and deep violet when the sun was setting. Dazzling meteorites broke the atmosphere frequently, it made visiting here pretty funny, I’d see angels without premonition standing right where a meteor was burning up in the atmosphere above, and watch fragmented meteorites pelted down on them. There was a majesty unmatched, however; one has not seen something as magnificent as a meteor breaking the atmosphere and imploding into a million tiny shards, an auburn shadow cast onto the indigo sky. It was a rain of which I was partial to, truly.

This was a planet of which I was very fond. It reminded me of my home when it was not long from its nascency. I’m not too prideful to admit I was disappointed when this burning world was selected for the terraforming process.

 It’s not a short process, you see. It involves a lot of waiting, and very little interference from any observers. To beings who transcended time, not merely looking away for a few instances and seeing the stellar landscape change, but remaining and waiting for the right opportunity, the right moment - now that was a game I was never good at. Time slipped from me, not merely years but millenia gone in just an instance.

An undifferentiated planet like Earth, its breath bitter and its heart full of rage, can be soothed and made gentle - the screaming kindled to a song. As much as I despised the journey, the product is beautiful.

 Where we walk, the world reaches up to meet us. At the feet of seraphim incite flames, at the feet of elim trees spring forth - and it is just that, which was used to cultivate life. The first step meant cleansing the world of all contaminants. When the planet is pure, one of the choirs is selected and a part of them is set to the planet to grow. That way, all life is new, with something alike us at its core. Not long after Earth was chosen, all denizens were commanded to leave it and return home. Few returned more reluctant than I, but I knew better than to risk challenging this of all laws.

We are not to interfere, except to make challenges for life, so only the most suited may succeed. Not just anyone, though, each of us with each set of skills may appeal to orchestrate an obstacle, or are commanded to do so by the council. Laws are set, and set into motion. For billions of years, we controlled it - so many tiny things, pulling the strings of fate. Wasn’t the first, and time draws on ever longer.

I wanted to visit, and watch as the planet become its own, but once terraforming begun, it wasn’t until life was close to us that a being of any Heaven could set foot upon the world.

 I imagine now you would like to know of my home? Since I have spoken so surreally of yours. It is a place of beauty, one that many of your kind aspire to one day witness, and dream of indefinitely; but don’t worry, I dream of it too. Heaven is a vast place, but not a single one, either: there are nine great Halls, nine planets, to which Heaven is composed of. Of all those with memories of Heaven, or scholars who discuss it, very few know of the Halls, and those that do have a great confusion. Shamayim is the first Heaven, at the furthest gate from Earth, though Gnostics think it is closest, this is very false. I know this because I lived there.

You know those days when the clouds are thick, the sun isn’t too bright but the sky is just like a sheet of paper, vast and unbroken white? The sun is a shining white disk that only just breaks through the clouds; and at night, it’s black with patches of great white clouds that make the stars shine so much brighter? That was my sky, my home, back at Shamayim. That will always be my sky.

Shamayim was not a massively early planet, it was made from the remains of many stars, and as such, was rich with metals and its core was heavy. The surface was littered with crystals, ores and chunks of stone formed naturally. A crystallographer’s dreams would be filled in Shamayim, one could go for a casual stroll and pick up a fist-sized gem of immeasurable value if on Earth. Plantlife on Shamayim was rather hardy, adapted to muted but blinding sunlight, large regions without much water and aggressive predation - many were thick with a brittle and spiked covering, bitter tasting and with interlocking wide-spread roots. Shamayim was much unlike the human envisionment of any Heavenly abode before the Falling… oh, the Falling, I’ll… I will tell you about the Falling later.

 Arguably, as of yet the only important thing you need to know about it is that after, a substance that beforehand was incredibly rare, became suddenly ubiquitous. The only monuments of note made of it were towers, erected in the largest city of each Hall, aside from Shamayim, there were two. They reached as tall as each archangel in full form, up to seventy seven thousand feet from the base. They were unparalleled, a symbol of God, his sons, and their omnipresent power; along with the desire of all angels to join God, in hyperuranion topon, in Moksha, in Nirvana, without separation a part of the Lord God.

Only a decade or so after The Falling, each capital to each Hall was centered with a giant building of some kind, Shamayim’s being the Empyrean - the Seat of God, and at any time eight angels would be left in stewardship of the seat, maintaining the building, and all manners of it.

The abode of the Empyrean was made into more of a city, streets arching outwards paved with the same pearlescent stone, buildings of all manner erected around the monument, smaller towers and the homes of angels too. All angels within the boundaries of the Empyrean Square were to wear garnered robes, white, in remembrance for all who died during the Uprising, with a trim matching each angel's’ wing feathers; it was a distasteful show of conformity, designating us by choir, even from a distance. I guess at the time you don’t always notice these things, it was later that I began to learn.

The Empyrean Square was a sombre place, of devotion purely to our Father, a morose remembrance to the price of rebellion. The buildings were built with gold filigree inset with onyx, hematite and rich tourmalines, with occasional monuments of large rubies and garnets. The streets were paved with blades burning as torches. Despite crystals and pyre upon pyre, the most surreal feature of Shamayim, was the golden water. You seldom saw them, but travelling from the capital, the rich everglade rivers would come into sight, and soon enough, the horizon would be streaked and blonde seas would span across the view.  Not unlike Earth, with blue seas and blue skies, when the blanket clouds parted they revealed the sky hue to be a silky, sweet orange reflecting below.

To me, as I sit on this blue rock, grass staining the fabric of my trousers green, I look up to the sky and see not my sun Shamsi peeking through the firmament, but a foreign yellow star on a canvas of cobalt blue, and it stabs a blade within my ribs to tear at my heart, saying; ‘this is not your home, this will never be your home.’

My home was gold gilded on pearls and burning bright. My heaven was a beautiful, beautiful place.

I miss it every day.

 It must be weird, hearing only of the highest and furthest Heaven, the most far removed from all the things you hold close. Hit the ground running, I guess. In Shamayim, as I said, you wouldn’t find blue skies, you wouldn’t find pumpkin spice lattes, Walmarts or Christmas decorations. Cities would rise to the sky randomly, branching through the air as if there were no ground.

Shamayim had beaches, like Arrad, but no blue sea. The plants weren’t often green, they sprung from the ground bristly as purples and indigos, per Shamsi’s yellow-looking light shining unbridled by archaea. Probably the only place in all of the vast Heavens a human would feel home, would be the Library, home of the raphaim.

Shamayim was the abode of the seraphim mainly, the burning ones, the challengers, the angels of fire. Raquia, the home of water angels, you’d feel at home, the place covered in the Library with its rare surface communities.

I wish I could tell you that we had a perfect, commune-based system in which all were cared for in equal-measure. I can’t. The nine Heavens were ruled unevenly of the nine Aeon, with princes ruling as their fathers substitute when off-planet - but because of this, each Heaven was a kingdom, to a king in stewardship for God. The Aeons were powerful, old and respected. Their progeny rulers in stead, born into wealth and respect; some angels, though, were born without a home, without a great deal of anything at all. In Shamayim this was relatively rare, they were generally taken in and looked after, our adoption and foster systems were stellar; but in Raquia, the abode of the water angels, this wasn’t so much the case.

 Raquia, the second Heaven, I never knew so intimately.

There were times I had visited it, times I saw it before the War, but it was encroaching upon it. Memories of the place dwindle few and far between the ones of Machonon, let alone Shamayim. I, think I’ll have to tell you about those later, unfortunately. Raquia after the War was incomparably different. The ‘monument’ erected in Raquia practically covered it, covered the ground in stone like Earth did with concrete. Raquia erected The Library. Now, don’t get me wrong, The Library was a beautiful place, but when faced with a reality where it was all you could see, you have to love it. Very rarely did anyone venture out of it, very rarely was anyone allowed.

You may think it weird, having a whole world wrapped in books, values in knowledge wrapped up in scrolls; but for many of us it was home.

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The Septagram

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***

Iphigenia took the flashlight out and ambled downhill over the chunks of rocks, earth, plants.  Some parts were fairly dry, but others were drenched or held deep puddles.  The aftermath of hoisting a city park with a reservoir and water tower two thousand feet in the air, then knocking it down.  The wet parts sparkled in the weak electric light and were easily avoided.

Up ahead, she saw a pink light.  A flame licking out of a crack in the ruins.  It cast its faint light up on the unevenly collapsed slabs that constituted the roof of this passage.  She didn’t think much of it until she got closer.  There were six eyes floating in it, circling each other.

“What are you?,” she asked.

“The question,” the fire responded in a woman’s voice, “Is where am I?”

Ippy crumpled her face in anger, then figured it out.  “You’re in my mind.  There aren’t no six eyes floating in a pink fire in front of me.”

“That’s right.  You’re coming to see me, Iphigenia, with violence in your heart.  When we meet, it could be over very quickly.  But before we meet, we can take a little time.  Get to know each other.”

“Eeyeah, I don’t think so.”  She started walking again - toward the weak flame, but intent on stepping right past it.

“Please, my sister.  If you don’t tarry with me, then you will see him, and be overwhelmed with hatred.”

She shook her head.  “What does it matter?”

“It matters to me,” said the woman.

Iphigenia was given a moment of pause.  It reminded her of talking to the cop, Park.  She knew better than to trust a cop, but he seemed quite genuine.  Still, a six-eyed fire had to be less trustworthy than a pig.

Ippy reached a dark filthy pool, and there would be no way past it but wading.  Orange fires sprang up at the corners of the pool, drizzling black smoke into the wreckage above.  She had plenty of room to wade between the little hazards, and did so.

But they began to rotate.  Slow at first but then becoming a spinning wheel of fire around her.  There were eyes in this fire - more than in the last, red like rubies - and a man’s voice.  Abalaam.

“Iphigenia.  I understand you’re coming to kill me.  I told you that you would have your vengeance.  And now it lies ahead of you, simple and pure.”

“So why you holdin’ me up?”  She wagged her hammer at the fire.

“Far be it from me to stand in the way of fate.  But I want you to consider what you’ll find when you come to me.  I am with Queen Bymaan - the architect of all this ruin, of this Hell on Earth.  Between the two of us, how can you stand?”

“You both gonna try to kill me?  Or fuck me?  Because it kinda sounds like you both wanna fuck me.  I’m not really into that, dude.”

“Hahaha, you are magnificent.  But that’s not what I’m after.  I want your fire, hot enough to burn us both to ash.  I don’t mind dying.  It’s been long thousands of years.  But I don’t want to leave the Earth in that bitch’s hands.  Kill us both, Iphigenia!”

“This is some bullshit reverse psychology, because you know I hate you enough I ain’t gonna do what you want.  So I’m just gonna kill you and let her live.  That’s obvious.  But why would you want that?”

“Are you that simple?  You’d let your world burn under the reign of Lucifer’s bitch, just to spite me?”

“You know how hard it is up here?  Most Americans don’t give a fuck about the world.  It’s like, I got mine, fuck you.  Seriously, what did you hope to achieve by this?  Get me riled, hope it’ll put me off my game?”

“You don’t even expect to live through the fight, do you?”

“You’re a fucking genius.”

“Fine.  But don’t listen to her.  She’ll have you in her thrall, believe me.”

“FUCK YOU!  If I get this thing through your skull, I’ll kill myself with a smile.  I’m fuckin’ DONE!”

“Such a waste.”  The fires dissipated.

***

Park walked toward the pink light, wondered what he’d even do when he got there.  He wasn’t a nephilim like Infante or Iphigenia.  He didn’t even have a pointed stick at the moment.  The pink light ahead was so faint, but he was sure it was his goal - his destiny.  He wasn’t going to die before the scene in the throne room after all.

The oracles song was starting to pick up in his head again.  He knew if he resisted it, he’d get a headache, but he figured out how to let it slide by him.  A strange feeling.  He let the sound be, but unfocused his mind, letting him see past it.  Only one thing he needed - that pink fire.

An orange light emerged from the pink, and slipped toward him across the stone, in a serpentine motion.  As it drew closer he could see it was an actual serpent, made of gold.

It was on him before he could think, sliding in circles around his body until it was on his hands like cat’s cradle.  It was thin as a whip, with ruby-red eyes on its face and down its back.

“Detective Park!”  It was Abalaam’s voice.  Or Abraham’s, perhaps.  Less depth.

“Gah!  This is grody, even for you.”

“You don’t like snakes?”  It disappeared in a burst of golden light, and SAC Abraham stood before him, translucent like those ghosts in Star Wars - but with a golden tinge to the light.  “We can do it like this.  It’s all in your head.”

“Yeah, that’s better.  If we hafta do this, we can do it like this.”

“You’re a human being.  Hardly a trace of angelic contamination in your noble blood - the favored race of God in Heaven.”

“What does that matter to you?  Jealous?”

“Yes, in fact.  But the important thing is that you’re so much more sensible than these nephilim.”

“Why do you need sensibility?”

“Iphigenia is still coming, specifically to kill me.”

“That’s fine by me.”

“Fine, but consider this.  Bymaan is far more powerful than I am.  I can even the odds with a little help from some nephilim, but if one stands with her against me, the fight is not so sure.”

“Again..?”

“If I lose and Bymaan wins, you will never be able to defeat her.  If I win, you may yet have a chance to defeat me.  The lesser evil should prevail, if humanity is to prevail in the long run.”

“So I’m supposed to use my sense to convince Iphigenia not to kill you, until the Queen is dead?”

“You’ve got it.”

“Not really convinced, Abe.”

“She isn’t even going to come to you.”

“What does that mean?”  Park resumed walking, and the phantom remained in front of him receding at the same pace he advanced.

“She is in Iphigenia’s mind, and another nephilim as well.  She doesn’t believe you matter - that humanity can make a difference.  I’m coming to you because I believe there is a reason God favors you.  Show your worth, Ji-hyung.”

“Christ, you demons are creepy.”

“You don’t have much longer to decide.  The time is nearly upon you.”

“I know.”

The phantom disintegrated, replaced with a more solid form.  It was a lurching human form that crashed into him, and they fell apart in a tangle of limbs, gasps, and panic.

***

“Jennifer.  You’re awfully happy, considering the current state of your lover.”

Jen shook her head.

“Hey, that’s ticklin’ my nose, kid.”  Jason rode behind her on the unicorn.

“Sorry, the evil Queen is trying to mind control me right now.  Toots, I’ve got things to do.  Gimme a break!”  She kicked the unicorn’s sides gently and it ran at the wall, up to the corner, then sprang away.

Jason hung on for dear life.  There wasn��t a good reason for him to be on the beast’s back yet.  Jen hadn’t found a way out, but was so confident it would happen quickly that she’d convinced him to mount up.  They’d been running up walls and kicking at cracks, by the light of the monster’s horn.

Bymaan was a pink haze in the corners of Jen’s vision.  “I’m not trying to control you.  You saw what happened.  My treacherous servant Abalaam snatched up your Sergio to empower himself.  You’ll see when you get to us.”

“That’s right.  You came to Seattle and thought you could take over, subject us to your laws.  But we’re free!  Anarchy now, baby!”

Jason quibbled, only hearing half the conversation.  “Maybe I should get off this ride, kiddo.  I’m no rabble-rouser.  I just wanna find my girl and get outta the pokey.”

“HYAH!”  Jen rode the unicorn up another wall and bashed through the roof in a shower of small rocks.  Tangled buddy roots roughly brushed over their flesh as they clambered through to the next good stopping place.

The pink haze fell away, but now an orange light crowded the corners of her sight.  They were in a much taller pocket of ruin now, the lambent unicorn’s radiance barely reaching the top crevice where the slabs had crushed together.  The beast tapped its hooves impatiently, feeling out the new environment.

Abalaam’s voice came to Jen.  “You’re coming to find us, to set your man free.”

“Sergio’s his own man, demon voice.”

Jason said, “That’s it, I’m getting down.  Thanks for the ride, unicorn.”

He awkwardly dismounted and staggered to the side.  The unicorn whuffed at him, and went back to its work.

“Jennifer, I will gladly free Sergio, and this other one beside him.  But I need all the power I can muster to throw down the despot that oppresses us both.  Queen Bymaan has taken over your precious city.  I don’t care about The Septagram.  A demon lord reigning in open sight is a target.  Help me defeat her, and I will release these men, then release Seattle itself.”

“Golly, pal.  That sure sounds reasonable.”  She rolled her eyes.

“The only reason I needed Sergio was to defeat my Queen.  If she is gone, I have no need for him.  You’ll see, whether you help me or not.”

“So why tell me about it?”

“Because it will be easier if you join me.  Maybe you’ll see sense when you get here.  She’s too powerful, and has to be stopped.”

“You’re the one that brought the building down.  Who’s too powerful?”

“And after her tower fell, she isn’t dead yet.  What does that tell you?”

“Get out of my head, guy.  I’m gonna do whatever I want.”

“We both know that.  It’s why we’re making our cases.”

“Uh-huh.  Are you done yet?”

The fiery glow dissipated like someone blew out a candle.  She turned the unicorn in place with gentle pushes at his shoulders, pleased how smart he was about following her instruction, and surveyed the chamber.  There was Jason, hands in his pockets, wondering what would come next, but not wanting to get back on the creature.  He flashed a polite smile at her, but looked away, making it clear he was looking for his own way out now.

She rode the unicorn around the uneven mounds of ruin, looking for weak corners or halls that hadn’t been ruined - any kind of way out.  Then again, if the demon bosses had reached her with their minds, they were probably trapped as well.  Should she be trying to escape, or trying to find them?

Jen grew impatient and picked up speed, driving the unicorn around and around the chamber, up and down walls.  I’m the greatest hipster that ever lived.  Nothing can stop me.

***

Maddy figured out she wasn’t being attacked and embraced the strange man.  He was a tall handsome sort, but mostly it was a relief to be around any humans that had lived through that mess.  “Oh, mister!  You’re alive!”

“Uh, yeah, sorry.”  Park pushed her gently out to arm’s length.  “I’m glad to see somebody else alive in here, too.  But I need to find somebody in particular.  Have you seen a big red demon with a wheel on his back?”

She shook her head.  “Yes, but why?  Why go there?”

“My man is his prisoner.”  A moment of reflexive internalized homophobia pushed this out his mouth, “We’re cops.”  That’s right.  He’s your man because he’s under your command.

“There’s no way your man is alive.  That monster...”  She shook her head.  “We need to get out of here!  The demons will kill each other and bring the place down on our heads!  I know it!”  She covered her face with her hands.  “We need to get out of The Septagram.  Out of Seattle.”

“Ma’am, look.  I don’t know if there’s a way out of here until some kind of rescue digs us out.  If you can find some water, do it.  At least there’s a lot of trapped air and not many people sharing it.”

“You’re going to leave me?”  She was miserable again.

“I need to find my man.”

“Fine, I’ll take you there.  You damned macho bastard.”  Her words faded into grunting silence.  She gestured back the way she came - toward the faint pink light.  Park helped support her so she could stop hopping everywhere.  They went to see the Queen.

Park and Maddy came out behind the camel and carefully maneuvered around it.  Maddy clung to Park all the way up until they were standing right beside the great demons, forming a triangle.  She gestured at the weird scene.  “Queen Bymaan.  Your wheel, your man.  Are you satisfied?”

Park’s gaze was transfixed.  “Infante!  Are you..?”

The broken remains of Abalaam’s wheel provided the stationary track for a wheel of fiery energy, with men for spokes.  They spun endlessly - too fast to see their faces clearly through the flames.  They didn’t speak, but the eyeballs on the wheel track flashed, and focused on Park.

The big demon spoke.  “She doesn’t care about you, Ji-hyung.  Madison.  You’re merely humans.”

Park grunted.  “Like the men in your wheel.  Let them go!”

“These aren’t humans like you, like Madison.  These are nephilim, and my only advantage over the Queen - the only thing keeping her bound to the circle.”

Maddy cried quietly into Park’s shoulder while he spoke with the thing.

“And we’re supposed to believe you’ll let them go when you take her down?”

Abalaam’s voice seemed to come from nowhere, his expression still as he faced off with the Queen.  “It won’t be up to you to decide.  Unless you can influence the will of the other nephilim who are coming to the battle - Jennifer and Iphigenia.”

“Two.  One for each of you.”

“And I have two in my corner already.”

Park thought her heard the woman say “Daddy” and became too distracted to retort.

***

Iphigenia came to a long even slab leading down into darkness.  There was a lot more soil and stone in the mix here - and among it, headstones and coffins.  This must have slid down from the graveyard.  She felt a little bad for the dead, but kept on.

Then orange willowisps trickled out of the rocks and came to rest on two particular coffins.  Skeletons bashed their way out.

“Skeletons, oh no.”  She wasn’t impressed, holding a very useful tool for crushing bone.  She tucked the flashlight into her shirt pocket again and readied the weapon.

The skeletons looked confused for a moment, like they were trying to recover their minds, their identities.  But then an orange light flashed in their eye sockets, and they fell in line.  They leapt to the ground and ran toward her.

She was ready for the attack, but then they broke to the sides, started weaving and dipping like boxers.  She tried to get out from in between them, but they were too deft.

“Fighters, huh?”  She tried a little feint toward one, then came at the other with the hammer.  It rolled out of the way and bashed her in the hip with a crescent kick.  She grunted and didn’t have time to react before the other came at her with a familiar looking step side kick.  She was tossed hard to the rocks.  The other leapt in with a stomp to her gut.

Reflexively she lashed out with the hammer in a great sweeping arc.  They both jumped back in unison, went to the boxing stance.  She groaned and stood, keeping her back to the rocks.  “Alright.  What is this?  Orange light, must be Abalaam.  Didn’t know you had kung fu.”

The skeletons came back at her.  She dove between them and caught more brutal kicks, rolling across the rocks.  When she managed to face them again, she was rewarded with a kick to the face.  It hurt like hell, but a kick from the other one to the side of her head was less bad.

They kept doing all these fancy little moves, spinning and weaving and snapping.  But she realized they had very little strength - no muscle moving these bones, and the magic working in place of that was weaker.  It was only direct hits with the right force behind that did proper damage.

She dropped the hammer and grabbed the leg of the tall one as it kicked at her, rushing forward until she slammed its body into a big rock.  Her body was the weapon, and she crushed the fragile bones.  She’d been cut up in the process, but it was worth it to have one less nuisance.  Then she rolled to the side, to face the shorter one.

Ippy had turned just in time to see it had made itself a lot more dangerous, whacking at her with her own hammer.  She barely dodged, got out of the way, and came up to face the Harryhausen creation.

It held the hammer across its hands, displaying it as if on offer.  Letting her get the advantage back?  A sense of honor?  No, it was just being fancy before launching into a kata where it whirled the hammer all about like nunchaku.

“Damn, Boney Maloney.  You come straight out of a kung fu movie.”  She found herself unconsciously bobbing and weaving like they had done before, hoping to be ready for the attack when it came.

One quick hammer lash.  She flinched out of the way and it was only a glancing blow.  The skeleton seamlessly went back into the kata, the weapon twirling all about, daring her to try a move.

She stepped to the side, paced down to flatter rocks, and back a step.  She had both fists up, one leg forward and one back, but tried to keep her stance as loose as possible.  She needed to be ready for anything.

The skeleton seemed to prefer defensive moves - intercepting attacks and such.  It also stepped back a pace, caught the twirling hammer under its right arm, and gestured to her with the other hand.  Beckoning.

She shook her head.  “Do I look stupid?”

It caught her in the middle of the last syllable, lashing out in the space between her breaths, when she’d be slowest to react.  The hammer came so fast, crashing brutally into her arms where she blocked it, then snapped back to twirl in for another hit.

Ippy took advantage of the wind up and sprang forward with a short leaping kick to the chest.  The skeleton blasted to pieces and her hammer clattered to the ground beside her.

The skeletons had done a number on her.  She was scratched and scraped in so many ways, all of her clothes bloody, save where being pre-soaked with water made it harder for the claret to seep in.  The worst were bone bruises on her arms, ribs, and jaw - and that her jaw was jammed up.  She couldn’t open her mouth far without making the pain worse - and it was already quite bad, radiating from her throat up to her temple on that side.

She slumped to the grass, loosely drawing the hammer toward her lap.

More skeletons and a few withered corpses besides.  No kung fu stances on the rest of them, at least.  She rubbed sweat out of her eyes and tensed her grip on the hammer.

The assault began, orange light in their eyes.  Abalaam knew she was coming for him, first and foremost.  Could she really do this?  Kill a powerful demon, like Infante had?

It was easy to feel powerful bashing apart these less impressive foes, but the demon had admitted the only reason they could be killed was due to Jelly Sue’s influence.  As easy as it had been for him to destroy her, that vampiric power somehow had some power over him.  Once she was out of the picture, Infante’s bullets did nothing.

Even with several corpses attacking her at once now, the fight was much easier.  So much so that her mind was able to drift.  There was an image there in pink light - a piece of paper floating down from above.  More bullshit from the Queen.  While part of Iphigenia’s mind battled the creatures around her, part of it read the page.

“The seventh spirit in order is Bymaan, a great Monarch, and very obedient to Lucifer.  Bymaan is constrained by divine virtue to stand before the conjurer, where they putteth on the likeness of man or woman: they sitteth on a dromedary which is a swift runner, and weareth a glorious crown.  There goeth before them an Host of spirits with trumpets and well sounding cymbals, and all musical instruments.

At first they appeareth with a great cry and roaring, that the conjurer will understand them not.  But when the conjurer hath delivered them the first obligation to observe their desire, they must answer him distinctly and plainly to all questions asked - of all philosophy, wisdom, and science, and of all other secret things.  And if he willeth to know the disposition of the world, and what the Earth is, or what holdeth it up in the water, or any other thing, or what is the Abyss, or where the wind is, or from whence it cometh, they will teach him abundantly.

Consecrations as well as sacrifices may be reckoned.  Bymaan giveth dignities and confirmations - they bindeth them that resist him in chains and subjecteth them to the conjurer.  They prepareth good familiars, can raiseth the dead for a time of seven years, and hath the understanding of all arts.  Note that at the calling up of them, the conjurer must look towards the northwest, because there is their house…”

***

Maddy and Park were knocked to the floor with the force of a shockwave.  A unicorn smashed through the wall and tried to drive its horn into Abalaam’s wheel, but was held at bay by the magic circle below him.  The protective energies clashed with the unicorn’s powers, and threw it back.  It hit the ground and bounced like a heavy sausage.

There was that young white lady from before, no doubt here to rescue Sergio, now fallen from the unicorn and utterly dazed.  A man came up from the tunnel behind her, and beheld the scene in wonderment.

“Daddy?”

Jason cast about in the darkness, the only light sources the aurae of rituals and magical beasts.  Then he saw Maddy, sprawled on the floor, reaching toward him with one hand.  “Maddy!”

Park was very glad to not be ‘Daddy’, but he was occupied trying to understand the new situation - and still had an instinct to try to keep people safe as possible.  He put himself between the lady and the magical fireworks - still sparking around Abalaam.

Abalaam’s voice rumbled, again disembodied.  “Amduscias!  Stay out of this!  It is a family affair.  No concern of yours.”

The unicorn took note of his commands, and got to its feet.  Jen’s glasses were finally wrecked and she took in the scene impressionistically.  “Amduscias?  Is that your name, boy?”

He nodded to her, then turned his attention to the circle, stamping a hoof.  He must not have the power to penetrate the magic circle, Jen reasoned.

She walked along the periphery on the far side from Maddy and Park, while Jason hustled the other direction, rushing to embrace his daughter.  Jen looked at the spinning men hopelessly.  They were a blur in a ring of fire.  “Sergio!”

He couldn’t respond.

Abalaam spoke again.  “You’ve arrived Jennifer.  I did not expect you to bring help.  Strange we can be nearly omniscient and still get broadsided by circumstance.  Have you met my friend Ji-hyung Park?  He’s a detective from Tacoma.”

“That’s great.”

“Not his friend!”  Park was yelling from the other side of the wheel.

“I guessed.”

“Jennifer.  You still have time to decide.  Unlike your new friend, you can pass the circle - try to lay hands upon me in violence.  You won’t be able to harm me yet - perhaps when the second nephilim arrives.  In the meantime, consider my words.”

“Man, why should I believe you?  Maybe I can kill you right now, and you’re just biding time!”

“Hahaha… You’re welcome to try.  Just keep in mind the fair lady in front of me is made of softer stuff - and it would be a far better use of your energies to take her down.”

She regarded the Queen.  What a strange figure she cut, like a statue of the Virgin Mary, crying.  Just to look at her, it was hard to hate her.  But she had to remember the cruelty of the invading army, making Rosemarie get that crappy tattoo, killing those guys.  The cruelty with which they’d jailed her and Sergio in that little cage.  And why was Amduscias trapped with Jason at the bottom of the pit?  Who could do that to a unicorn?

Amduscias spoke, “You’re thinking about it.  Good.”

She shook off the haze.  “Like fuck I am.”  She pointed angrily at Abalaam, who still was not looking at her, except with the eyes of his wheel.  “Let’s do this thing!”

Park felt useless.  He was holding his arms at his sides, as if he’d have to use them somehow to protect Maddy and her Daddy.  Surely neither of them was stupid enough to get into the fight.  And what was the goddamned unicorn going to do?  It was pacing near Abalaam’s back - a lot smaller than the camel in the Queen’s corner, but armed.

Jen charged at the Queen, ran up her fleshy body, did an extremely powerful backflip off her forehead, coming at Abalaam with pointy boot heels to the eyes.  She bounced away and her fall was broken by a big white lap.  It jiggled with her impact.

She felt the Queen’s soothing presence in her mind, like big white hands helping her back to her feet, though the actual hands remained still at her sides.  She looked up at Abalaam, still sitting impassive.  No.  He was smiling now, the prick!

“I’ve had about enough of you,” she said.

“You can feel how soft she is.  Strike her down, and Sergio will be freed.  Officer Infante as well…  Strange, how much love is in this fallen temple tonight.  But can the lovers bring themselves to do what is best for them?”

Jason got Park’s attention with an arm on the shoulder.  Park jumped.  “Sorry, officer, I just… do you know if there’s a way outta here for the civilians?”

“I’m sorry.  I really wish I did.”

“Thank you.”  He stepped back to Maddy and slouched down at the wall beside her.  “Hey Princess, how are you holdin’ up?”

“It’s a miracle!  You’re alive.”

“You and me both, Baby.”

“No, I mean it!  I tried really hard, I prayed so many times.  And you came riding in on a - a unicorn!  It’s Jesus!”

“I think its name is Amduscias, Honey.”

She punched his arm.  “You know what I mean!”

“Uh, yeah, I guess I do.  Well, I wasn’t praying when Jen and Amduscias busted me outta the pit, but you were.  Maybe if we’re both praying now, it’ll help out a lot?”

“I love you, Daddy.”

He held her close and kissed her temple, then quietly said anything holy he could remember.  “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name...”

Jen clambered out of the Queen’s lap and stood between the monsters.  Fallen angels.  Demons.  She could feel the energy between them as they struggled for dominance, and something else too - more subtle.  She felt it in her pelvis and thought of Sergio.  His energy was caught up in this mix too.  She got mad and started stomping and kicking at Abalaam’s annoyingly bulletproof legs.

***

The demons atop the mess had developed a good strategy for finding the Queen.  Shiny Dan - a Satanist with a drafting degree - worked with the tiniest demons they could find and a lot of wire to start mapping the wreckage.  Cariamon - the main demon on the scene - kept the less ruly types out of the way while he processed the intelligence.

The building had been made of a very particular kind of black stone, which was fairly resilient to the kind of damage being done.  While the whole structure had fallen to pieces, large slabs of it had not - some hundreds of feet long.  They were stacked irregularly, like a pile of driftwood that hadn’t been cemented fully by tides yet, leaving pockets of air - caverns, mostly sealed off from each other, but some more connected than others.  The little demons squeezed in the less accessible cracks and crevices to help map out the interior.

Cariamon shoved a monkey-like demon aside with his copper-plated rod of authority, then pointed it at the six inch demon giving his report.  “Be specific.  Was it more of an acute angle, or obtuse?”

Its fish face was panicked.  “What does that mean, boss?”

Shiny Dan said, “Was it steep?  Did you have a hard time standing on it, where it sloped down?”

“Yeah!  Yeah, real steep.”

“Thank you.”  He adjusted the angle of a chunk of polygons in his 3D program.  “Master Cariamon, with a few more hours of this, I really believe we can pinpoint where the temple ended up.”

“Mm, it may have to do, but I wonder if we can hasten the discovery.  She doesn’t need to breathe, but if she’s … in a bad state, Lucifer will be most vexed.”

Shiny Dan pushed his ponytail back from his shoulder again, and looked at the fallen angel with sensitive eyes.  “I will do whatever it takes for my Infernal Lord!”  He contemplated the screen again.  “We can really rule out all of these areas.  These slabs suggest that interior vertical stayed intact after these floors collapsed, which would force it to stay on this side of the wall.  See?”

“I do see.  This technology is remarkable.”

“Vinimus, Terigius, and that one that looked like… a mushroom with a human foot?”

“Grotus.”

“Those guys did some serious rappelling here.  Said it was a fifty foot drop, which for them is mountain climbing.”

“Why do you mention this?”

“The horizontals - the floors and ceilings - crumbled much more thoroughly than the verticals.  If it’s weak enough and you ran some guys down that shaft, they might be able to find the temple.  Unless it ended up in this spot, or this one.  Or if it was smashed completely.”

“You have served Hell well, Shiny Dan.  Keep up this work.  I’m going to get that endeavor underway.”  He turned to another legionnaire.  “Ardigon, keep this lot in line while I’m gone.”

“Aye, Master Centurion.”

Cariamon ascended the ridge grabbing the attention of his subordinates with waves of the scepter, pulling them into his orbit.  At the top he pointed to a small hole in the rubble, only a foot and a half across.  “We need this hole wide enough to send down legionnaires, explore anything you can get past with picks.  The bricks of the pavilion had a wavy cut.  Keep your eyes out for those in particular.”

An elderly man crested the opposite ridge and looked down at them with a hand on his hip.  “Heya.  Heard the Queen ended up inside this mess.”

Cariamon cocked an eyebrow at him.  “Another fake legionnaire?”

“I never fake it.  Anyway, I’d love to meet the lady in charge.  Is this way down a hot ticket?”

“Could be.  Grab a pick, old fellow.”

“Mmm, too slow.”  He slid down the slab he was on, did a little hop, and crashed through the hole - widening it on the way down.  He was out of sight.

Cariamon jabbed a goat boy in the arm with his rod.  “Don’t let that man find her first.  Get in the hole.  All of you!”

***

NEXT

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