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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Stranger In The Crowd

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having recently ended the process of moving, Y/N is rightfully very tired but also very excited for the new chapter of her life. Funnily enough, this new chapter includes a newly formed long distance friendship/crush with a very special person from San Diego.

Requested by @boiled-onionrings Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request and I’m really sorry you’ve had to wait so long for it to be posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

I let out a heavy sigh, relieved to finally be at home after such a long day of standing around in the Georgia heat with only a thin layer of fabric to protect my eyes and head from the scorching sun. Yeah, anyone who says that tent did well at protecting everyone under it today is nothing but a liar. I was in a short, strapless white summer dress, the fabric of which barely had any weight and consistency to provide heat of its own yet I still damn near melted. Ok, I’ll admit, some of the roasting heat probably came from the energy and force I put into singing the songs of my band’s new album ‘Starting At The End’.

The mini concert we held in this large open field was meant as an introduction to the city of Savannah where all the band members - myself included - are actually from but we all moved to the West Coast to pursue our music career. And now that we’ve grown, and the majority of us are married, one of us is a father now as well, we’ve decided to return to our hometown. The decision was so spontaneous and was executed so quickly due to no one objecting to it that it still hasn’t me that I’m no longer in LA. The heat isn’t helping my ‘processing’ process but I’ll get to it eventually. Do I miss LA though? Not sure I do - I think I more miss the people I was closer to while I was there.

Suddenly, as if perfectly timed, my phone dings, notifying me that I’ve received a message. I don’t have to look to know it’s from - there’s only one person I actively text and his name is....

C ~ Your virtual buddy Corpse here, making sure you didn’t die of a heatstroke today. If you did indeed survive, just reply to this message, if not....don’t do anything, I guess.

I can’t help but giggle at the sight of the message. I promised Corpse I’d text him after the concert to let him know I was ok, but the even dragged out for longer than anticipated so I’m guessing he got worried.

How cute.

Me ~ Alive and well, but I do feel like a popped tire of an overloaded truck. Hope that’s a visually appealing description

Corpse and I met on the charity livestream Jacksepticeye organized and invited our band to so we could play Among Us with some of the best gamers and streamers on the internet. It was a huge honor and a ton of fun, definitely an event I’d like to repeat in the near future because I had such a good time and I know all my bandmates did too. We all got acquainted and even became official friends with the gamers that were practically our hosts, Corpse becoming the closest friends I’d earn. That livestream happened months ago and we still text just as consistently.

C ~ Oh I know EXACTLY what you mean. Anyway, as to not exhaust you further to force you into typing, how about you send me pictures to sum up your thoughts and emotions and plans for the evening

This is OUR THING trademark, mine and Corpse’s and no one can take it away from us. It’s a significant element of our friendship that enables us both to understand one another when one of us feels the way I described in my message - a popped tire or a deflated balloon. I’m usually the exhausted one - blame the many shows we do and the many meet-and-greets we organize for our lovely fans. It’s the type of exhaustion none of the band members mind at all, but we definitely need some time to recover from it.

As I go to sit down on my couch, the flower crown I’ve been wearing slips off the top of my head, falling on the floor, creating a soft noise that attracts the attention of one of my many cats - Sasha. She’s the youngest and most curious kitty in the family, always protected by the other four - Luna, Cassie, Silver and Lynn. Those four are far lazier and a lot more disinterested in comparison to Sasha who immediately runs over to see what’s fallen.

I smile to myself, taking the flower crown and undoing it to lessen it by a few stems to make it smaller, all the while being watched by the curious Sasha whose interest is rewarded in the end when I put the now adorably tiny flower crown on her head.

While she still hasn’t shaken the thing off I manage to snap a pic which I send to Corpse who opens it mere seconds after it was delivered.

C ~ Sasha’s pulling off your aesthetic better than you. Sorry, someone had to let you know

I burst out laughing for two reasons - 1.The message itself, damn it! It’s hilarious; 2. Corpse has learnt the name of each one of my cats and never mixes them up - not even Luna and Lynn who look almost identical. That amount of attention to detail is astonishing and very meaningful to me, it genuinely warms my heart and that may or may not be dramatic but it’s definitely not exaggerated.

Me ~ You think I haven’t caught on yet?

C ~ Well, if it makes you feel any better you pull off my aesthetic better than I do

He’s referring to the e-girl look I did for one show the band had in downtown LA one night. I was drunk and looking forward to trying new things so I improvised the hell out of my outfit but I apparently looked presentable enough to leave a good impression on Corpse despite the pic I sent him being a bit blurry and being a mirror selfie in the bathroom of the very bar we were performing in. It goes without saying that the mirror was dirty too - had a bunch of writing on it which Corpse said only added to the aesthetic. Looking back on it now I kinda agree, and luckily so did the fans in the comments of that same photo when I posted it on Instagram.

Me ~ Means a lot actually. Nowhere near enough to aid the burn of having a cat pull off cottagecore better than I do, but still helps XD

As if sensing that we’re talking about her, Sasha hops on the couch, poking her head over my phone to look down at the screen.

Now this is gonna be golden.

I take a selfie with my phone in my lap, the camera capturing both me and Sasha at a rather unflattering angle which has me losing my mind laughing when I send the picture to Corpse who immediately sends back a string of cry-laughing emojis.

C ~ I can’t tell which one of you is cuter

Me ~ If that was a compliment, I gotta say I appreciate it greatly

C ~ Just telling the truth ;)

It’s times like these that the butterflies in my stomach remind me just why I’ve started catching feelings for this man despite all the distance between us and despite barely knowing him - he knows me more than I know him but I don’t mind it, oddly enough.

I’m fond of our connection and though I sometimes dream of something more, I’m also content with what we already have considering that ‘something more’ seems rather unattainable as of now.

My phone dings again, clearing the fog of thoughts and presenting me with a new message from Corpse.

C ~ Oh, by the way, look what I got....

That message is followed up by a picture of a ticket. A plane ticket to Georgia!

While I’m still busy stomaching this and dealing with my quickly rising excitement, he sends another message.

C ~ I hope to catch a The Silver Rays concert while I’m there. Heard they had an adorable frontwoman ;)

My breath catches in my throat as a wide grin spreads across my face. The thought of having Corpse so close to me sends those aforementioned butterflies in my stomach into a raving mood and they practically explode my insides with excitement and joy like I’ve never felt it before. I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that we’re about to go from having an entire country between us, to being just some ways away - him in the audience and me on stage without a single clue of who to look for. That’s part of the excitement though, I guess, part of the guessing game that’s gonna make our meeting all the more interesting.

He’ll be a stranger in the crowd and I’ll be a performer on a stage - seemingly two people who have no relation whatsoever. But damn does it go beyond that: No one has to know how hard I’m falling for that stranger in the crowd.

Me ~ I’ve heard so too, can’t confirm it though

If this is gonna be a guessing game, I’ll flip the tables a bit - I won’t take any guesses. I’ll let the answer come to me. I’ll give the first move over to the stranger in the crowd, let’s see what he does.

C ~ I’ll check and let you know, don’t worry

Not worried whatsoever, Corpsie. I’m not worried at all.

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the-name-is-loser · 3 years

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Genshin Writing: Getting their Vision Broken

————

I was inspired to write this from a discussion I had with @fluffyspookychicken! So here it is: The brain child from my post about what would happen if various characters’ visions were, shall we say, gone.

Warnings: Angst and no comfort, vaguely described violence, First time writing for Genshin Impact so some characters may act... oddly. Spoilers for Kaeya’s story, Death Mention, Blood TW, Bennett is a Very Unlucky Boy(TM)

Characters Featured: Chongyun, Kaeya + Diluc, Bennett, (Beidou is mentioned)

————

Chongyun

His vision was broken. Demolished. Ruined beyond recognition. And it was completely Chongyun’s fault.

He had been in a fight with one of those cursed Cicin Mages. The battle was turning in his favor, so he got a bit...

Careless, one would say.

And so, of course, he hadn’t noticed noticed when they had started charging up Electro power, because of course he hadn’t. He was drunk with adrenaline, thinking that this was going to be finished sooner than expected.

The explosion afterwards proved it wasn’t. Because nothing ever was.

The first thing the exorcist noticed was how his claymore was suddenly... heavier. As if someone had placed a few fifty pounds inside of the Debate Club. His preferred weapons- He knew, of course he knew of such a simple fact- that they were naturally heavier. It helped them pack more of a punch. But this wasn't- Wasn’t normal.

And the lack of of ice flowing through his veins, waiting and begging to be called upon to bring an icy hell upon his enemy was little less than worrying.

But the mage had been stunned, and he had to stop them from hurting his team, he just had to-

And the next thing he knew was that a small glass bottle rested at his feet. Along with the remains of his vision. His gorgeous, beloved vision.

Blood pounded in his ears as the adrenaline wore off. His shoulder, and back- Nay, everything burned. As if someone dropped liquid hot water on him. As if he’d been dropped into a vat of excited electricity.

The shouting of his teammates as they rushed to check on him felt so far away. What had he done?

The lack of icy potential running through him was due to little more than a few grey, dead, shards of his gifted vision.

Because nothing was going to be that easy. Of course it wasn’t.

————

Kaeya & Diluc

The sworn brothers had been so close. Of course, now, that was obviously not the case.

Anyone who could simply see or hear how Diluc addressed Kaeya was enough to show to them that the two previously sworn brothers could barely function if left in the same room together.

And despite everyone dying to know what happened between the two, the only thing anyone needed to know was that Diluc used to own a vision.

Well, he still does- If you counted the hollowed metal attached to his belt a Vision.

The memory ran vividly through the both of them often- Reminding Kaeya of his lies, and Diluc of his betrayal.

Rain was loud, Diluc had found. At least, when you don’t have to think about anything regarding your ex-brother’s origin.

At the time, he’d still been deep in grief- Watching your father die in front of you was little less than horrifying.

He could still smell the iron of his blood, how the deep red liquid swarmed his slowly cooling body.

And Kaeya’s gentle knocks on his bedroom door was a very welcome respite.

He shouldn’t have been too quick to be grateful.

“I... have something to tell you,” Kaeya said, closing the door behind him.

Once he revealed his true nature, of course Diluc was going to be pissed. No, that was too kind-

He was outraged.

The pyro-user was quick to draw his blade, yelling insults at Kaeya. None of which were remembered in light of what happened next.

While Diluc recklessly threw his claymore around, Kaeya was forced to bring out his own weapon.

And with a quick slash, something akin to what little Klee released on the outside world was wrought inside of the small room.

At first the two were stunned. What was at first obvious was how Kaeya’s right eye hurt. Probably. He was too busy staring at the other’s vision. Or lack thereof.

(And isn't it weird how everything looked... wrong? As if everything to his right was coated in a deep red?)

The shards of the now grey vision where scattered through the room, one of which was embedded in his brother’s hand and thigh. His hand slowly leaked blood, though his leg seemed fine. For now, at least.

And despite Kaeya issuing so many apologies, and tried to help Diluc with his wounds...

It was clear that the two weren't going to be very friendly from then on.

————

Bennett

Yeah, this one wasn't that surprising- At least to the severely unlucky adventurer.

He had been sparring with Beidou, trying to find more weak spots and help Beidou overcome them.

(Or maybe she was just having a bad day and disguised it as sparring.)

Either way, when Bennett jumped in with Passion Overload, and Beidou countered with her Tidecaller, something was amiss.

The sound of his vision exploding was covered up by Beidou’s shield expanding to protect it’s user and release vengeance on the wrongdoer.

Which basically meant he was knocked back. From really high up. And fell super far away.

He fell with an ‘Oof!’ and upon attempting to get back up, his already weakened gloves failed him-

All of this to say, not only had he broken his vision, he got a cool hand scar to go along with it.

No amount of Lucky Dog artifacts would heal his curse of horrible, horrible luck.

————

Please let me know if I’ve made any mistakes! And do not repost!

#genshin impact #chongyun #Kaeya #Diluc #Vision #Bennett #writeblr #my writing #genshin headcanons #angst #genshin angst #blood mention #violence tw #loser’s hard work

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yourdeepestfathoms · 5 years

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LIMBO

“Does anyone else smell that?” Anne asked. “Smells kinda...fishy in here.”

“I smell it, too.” Katherine agreed. “That’s weird.” She laughed a little.

“It’s probably nothing,” Aragon dismissed it, and her words were followed by a peal of thunder.

“It’s really coming down out there,” Cleves commented idly, staring out the rain-spattered window in the rehearsal room.

“The forecast did say heavy rainfall all week,” Parr mused, remembering what the weather channel had said.

“Let’s not let the poor weather distract us,” Maud said, “Let’s get started, shall we? And someone please wake up our music director.”

The six queens turned in the direction of Maud’s gaze and found that Joan was asleep under the piano, curled up into a ball with her back to them.

“I didn’t even notice her!” Cleves laughed.

“She’s been like that since I got here,” Maud chuckled as Jane walked over to wake up Joan.

“Hey, sweetheart,” The queen gently shook Joan’s shoulder, causing her to look up blearily. Jane smiled warmly. “Rise and shine, sweetie. It’s time to practice.”

Joan stared at her queen for a moment before closing her eyes and promptly curling up back. She buried her face into the jacket she was using as a makeshift pillow.

“Go away.” She mumbled, her voice hoarse and slightly muffled, “I’ve been here since six this morning. Give me a moment to rest my eyes.”

“It’s almost 10:30 right now,” Maud points out, “That would mean you’ve been sleeping for around four hours.”

“Incorrect.” Joan said, not raising her head or even rolling over to speak, “I spent the first two hours working on the sike because, APPARENTLY, that's the music director's job. You know, if they're gonna make me do extra work that doesn't apply to being a music director, then I should get paid more.” She sniffed, clearly miffed. It was quite amusing. “Anyway, then I took out all the instruments, only to put them back because Bessie, Maggie, and Mars don't have to come in today. After that I was going to practice on the piano, but I'm tired and just decided to rest my eyes for a moment. That was at 9:30. SO, it's only been around half an hour.”

Laughter followed her explanation, even a few scattered claps.

“Thank you for that, Joan.” Maud said.

“You're welcome.” Joan replied, “And goodnight.”

Chuckling and shaking her head, Maud decides to let the girl rest for a little while longer. She turns to the queens and began giving directions.

Around thirty minutes pass. The rain starts to fall harder.

“Wonderful, ladies,” Maud said as the queens finish a run-through of Six, “Okay, so, as you all know, we have a tonight show performance coming up. We're going to be combining EX-Wives and Six for it.”

“If it ever gets written,” Anne tittered, side-glancing at Joan.

“I heard that.” Grumbled the music director from under the piano.

“You weren’t even sleeping.” Aragon said.

“I am TRYING to.” Joan retorted. “You gotta remember that I am an insomniac. Getting to sleep is not easy all the time. Especially after being woken up...”

“So you've been awake this whole time?” Parr asked.

“Partially,” Joan answered, “Listen, if you want music, then bring me my keyboard. I'll play it on the floor."

“Just rest, Joan.” Maud said.

“Gladly.” Joan mumbled, digging her face further into the jacket.

Ten minutes pass. Rain pelts down with even more force. Thunder crashes loudly, loud enough to startle Joan awake.

Joan yelped both in fright from the sudden noise and pain when her head slams into the bottom of the piano. Laughter filled the room as she crawled out to where her upper body was sticking out. She sets her chin on the cold floor, grumbling in annoyance.

“Maybe that was a sign,” Katherine giggled.

“Fuck the sign.” Joan grumbled.

She laid there for a moment before pushing herself up completely.

“Finally ready?” Parr asked.

“I'm grabbing a blanket first.”

Joan trudged out and towards the costume room. She rubbed her eyes with a loose fist, still grumbling to herself. When she opens the door to step inside and start searching, a horrible sound reverberates through the air, so loud that it felt as if the entire building had been ripped in half by a simple noise. Joan stumbled and something crashes against her head.

Blackness.

Joan awakes with a groan. She pries open her heavy eyelids, hearing her own shallow breathing and heartbeat in her ears. She pushed herself up, but topples back over onto her face almost immediately. She has to wipe rubble and debris from her face, along with blood.

When she puts it all together, she realizes a piece of the ceiling had fallen onto her head.

She doesn’t know what to do. She can’t just sit there forever, so she waits for the majority of the dizziness to go away before crawling for the exit. She regains mobility, eventually, but still has to use the wall for support. She’s preparing to probably get Jane, as the queen’s gentle touch always took her pain away, but she was halted by a wall of flames when she was about to enter the rehearsal room.

Fire. The entire room was on fire. Just how long was she out, then? Was it the lightning? How could she not hear their screams? Because all of the queens and even Maud were still inside. She could see their charred bodies. Jane even looked like she was still squirming.

Joan staggered backwards. Thunder crashes. Tears staff to fall like the heavy rain outside. Pain radiates through her skull. The fire starts to spread to the ceiling. Crackling from above. Joan doesn't have time to react.

Joan doesn't feel the pain. Not really. And that may sound a little weird because she’s being impaled through the stomach like a shish-kabob by pieces of smoldering wood, but it was true. She could feel the heat from the fire and the blood flooding from her mouth, but not the debris itself. Her nerves were still functioning, apparently (remember the plank had to have cut through, or at least, cut by, her spine), and her hands shot to the object jutting out of her midsection before finally going limp. She gurgles on the red filling her mouth for a moment until her head droops. A crimson haze flares across her vision. The last thing Joan sees clearly is Jane’s scorched corpse, and then she’s standing in a burning field.

Joan gasped and looked around wildly. A distorted, shadowy figure stood a few yards away, crouched on all fours. Its body was still, but it seems to be flickering and glitching out, and its head was twitching around wildly. Red glowing eyes seemed to stare directly into Joan’s soul.

“Where...where am I?” The girl croaked.

No answer.

“Am...am I dead?”

No answer.

The creature slowly stepped forward. It extended one of its hands, fingers widespread and tipped with hooked claws. A talon was pressed to Joan’s chest and pain overtook her once again.

“Your time is not now.”

———

Claw away the darkness.

Joan tries. She really does. She’s weaker. It’s harder to fight.

Animal instincts. That’s what Joan sometimes she feels she has and she isn’t too sure why.

Never trust anyone.

Her claws chip and darkness overtakes her.

Joan is pulled back into a freezing black ocean. Waves batter against her. Salt water stings in her open wounds. Red bubbles explode from her lips and, in return, bloody mouthfuls of sea foam rush down her esophagus.

“...Does anyone else smell that? Smells kinda...fishy in here.”

Over Poseidon’s wrath, she thinks she hears a voice. It’s familiar and the only thing she’s got. She tries to cling to it.

“...I smell it, too! That’s weird.”

Never trust anyone.

“...It’s probably nothing.”

“...It’s really coming down out there.”

“...The forecast did say heavy rain all week.”

But that doesn’t make sense- None is these voices make sense because she saw the owner of the voices-

More sound. More talking. What sounded like twenty thousand voices babble at once and Joan is slipping again. She scrabbles and grips and tries to stay on but she’s falling, falling, falling.

“...Let’s not let the poor weather distract us.”

Coral scrapes her back raw as the riptide captures her. Red mist filled the water and she convulsively swallowed, choking harder as her lungs fill up with the wrong element. The tang of salt and blood swishes in her mouth.

“...Let’s get started, shall we? And someone please wake up our music director.”

It feels like a harpoon has just stabbed her through the stomach and she’s wrenched upwards.

Joan breaches the surface.

She gasped and shot upwards, slamming her skull into something hard. Fresh pain bursts to life in her forehead.

“Looks like she did that for us.”

That sounded like Anne, but that was impossible...

Joan was having a sensory overload. Everything was too bright, too loud, too much. Talking shreds her eardrums and the smells are overwhelming. Eyes are drilling into her and she doesn’t blame them; she probably looks like she’s having a panic attack. Maybe she is.

But wait- This is the rehearsal room. And she’s under the piano. Why is she- Wasn’t this place-

Okay, wait a minute. Was that flash of blonde hair-

Oh dear god it is.

Jane Seymour herself is standing a few feet away, eyes alit with maternal worry. All the other queens and Maud are there, too, not a single burn on them.

When her senses somewhat gather, Joan jumped back further and screamed, startling Maud and the queens. Her eyes are practically bulging out of their sockets and she looks like she’s on the verge of having some kind of episode as she blubbers and stutters on her words.

“What has gotten into you?” Aragon asked, and her voice sounds too real.

This doesn’t make sense. Catherine of Aragon is dead. Jane Seymour is dead. Anna of Cleves is dead- they’re all dead! Joan saw them die! How could they be... How could she be...

She died. She remembered dying- she was dead!

It’s-

It’s just a dream. This has to be a dream, the final projections of the brain during death; it’s the only logical explanation to any of this. What else would it be?

“Joan, sweetheart, are you okay?” Maud asked.

Joan doesn’t answer. She’s too busy trying to wrap her head around what was going on.

She was back in the rehearsal room, right before she was woken up by Jane for practice to start. Then...

What if this was a mockery of her life? What if she died in that fire and, instead of going to heaven or hell or purgatory, she’s reliving her downfall? Is this limbo? This is a fate worse than death if you ask her.

“Oh my god...” She finally spoke up in a hoarse voice.

But what if it wasn’t? What if she was weirdly reincarnated back to her former self an hour before the fire? Or maybe it really was all a dream.

Maybe the fire was the dream.

Joan looks up and all of their eyes are alive. They don’t look dead at all.

“You’re alive!”

Emotions were rushing through her. She nearly knocked Jane over when she hugged her. This shocks the queen, as she hadn’t been expecting the sudden embrace, and the girl in her arms was babbling about a fire, which was even more worrying.

Before Jane had the chance to comfort her, Joan pulled back, but it was like she touched fire. She ripped away and stared at her hands like they were drenched in blood then back up at Jane again. The emotion in her eyes was unreadable, but her fear was so obvious. She took off running.

Joan slams the bathroom door shut. She’s breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath, but it feels like air can’t satisfy her lungs anymore. She braces herself over the sink and paws cold water onto her face.

Nothing makes sense.

Nothing makes sense and that scares her even more.

She looks up and yelped loudly, backing up into one of the stall doors. That shadowy figure she had seen was staring back at her from the mirror. It tilts its head slowly, blinking its ruby eyes once, twice.

“Who are you...?”

No answer.

“What’s going on?”

No answer, but only for a moment.

A garbled voice comes from somewhere.

“̶̧̳̟̱̼̗̳͕͍̦̇̈́͂́͑̾͊̅̔̅͂̓̊͗̌̄̎̕��Y̴̨̛̹͍̩̯͈͎̽͊̒̎́̓̃̈́͊̇͌͗̒̑̔̿͐̕͝͝͝ͅo̴̬͖͍̓̀̿̂̒̈̋̀͋̑̔̄̃͊́̈́͘͝U̸̢̪̟̣͗̓̍̑̿́̍̃̓͋͘͝.̸̨̢̻̗̰̺͔̩̫̜̜̯̮̦͎̈͂̔̅̈͝ ̶̛͕̖̣̟̬͈̤̇̀̅̂̔̀͂̍ͅͅT̷̯͕͎̖̎̈̊̂̒̽̃̕͝r̴̭̲̒̿̍̒͂̕ÿ̷̢̨͕̥͓̳̟̝̦̞͕̭̱̮̗̥͓͜͝.̸̨̢̛͚̫͍̺͎̯͖͖̟̱̱̮̳͚̦̪̀́͌̑́̄̋̇́̒̈́̚͠ͅ ̸̧̥͉͖͙̞͙̱̱̗̙̙̮̤̹͉̈̔Ą̶̛͇͕̩̺̼̮̯̯̯̪̥̬̟̘̗̞̘̜͕͕͔̖̍̓͂͛̋͆̏͐̂̋̚ͅĢ̸̞͎̫̼̱̭͎͉̪̣̣̭̲̜͚̦̺̯̅͗̀͒̿͜͠a̷̧̡̢̭̲̥̳̬͔͚̞̦̝̥̰͍̙͉͎͓̹̹̱̹̠̜͖̔̌̄̿͛̌͛͗͛̓̏̇̆̃̓̒̌͘͘͝͝͝͝i̶̛̝͙͉͌̿́̀͊̍͌̒̋̿͐̃̔̈́̾͑̀̅͊n̴̛͔̻̤͍̬̳̜̲̘̣̖͔͒͑͆̊̂̍͛̎͛̍̋̎̇͊͑͗̊́͐͗̚̕͝͠ͅ.̷̨̡̛͒̈́̔́̋̈́́̇͐͜͝

A shiver runs down Joan’s spine. The voice coils up around her neck and directly into her ears. It sounds like this thing has never learned proper English or dialect, as it speaks in broken sentences.

“What are you talking about?”

The creature tilts its head slowly in the other direction.

“̸̢̡͔̜̝̦͚͇̤̙̂̈́̇̿͐͂̕͠Y̵̢̧̧̢͎͕͖̱͇̦͈̬̲̝̼̜̫̳̎̊o̸̡̲̭͔̭̝̬̙͎̙͖̼͖̹̊̅͆̋̑͒̿̿̊̀͗̿̊̓͆̄̕̕̕̚͝u̸̧̨̨̨̠͓̼̦̰̙̲̩͔͎̪͚̠̝͎͆̔͐̈́̋̂̇͐͗͗̏̽͆̕̕͝ͅ.̶̢̨̡̛̝͙͇̙̼̩͇͇̪̪̭̗̳̪͓̝̱̥̫͉͇͑̾̔͒̆́̈́̎͂̏͒̏̀͆́̆̃̾́̄͒͑̕͜͜͠ͅ ̵̧̡̢̛̪̲̮̼̺̞͖̺̠̤͕͗͛̌̒̍̿̍̃̏̈́̈́̒̃̿̚͜͝ͅC̵̡̛̲̦̹̳̲͔̪̮͖̯̲͈͔͕̭̪̺̦͉̺̙̒̍̎̾͑͒̑̃͒h̶̡̢̢̨̤̙̩̗͚͖͖̦͈̗̗̱̳̳̎̽́͛̅ͅA̶͔̜͂̀́̔̇̓̇̋̀́͋̂͊̏̈̓̓̿͂͗͘͘͠͠n̶͉̤̘̰̒̒̒́̾͑̿͋̎͛͗͂̂̈́̃̈́̚͠g̵̟͚̎̿ȩ̴̢̧̛͖̭̘͉̹͚͈̪̯̠̩̰̟̳̮͇̥̱̞̩̖̾̓̀͂͝.̷̧̢̨̢̬͖͎̝̞̹̪͕̰͎͖͙̪̣̞̙̘̖́̾̈̿̾͜ͅͅͅ ̷̧̧̢̛̛͍̪̥̯̤͓̜̪͉̲͔̩̪̥̥̹͕͂͊̎̎̋̓͂̆̎̑͘Ṫ̷̡̧̜̲̰͕͉͖̪̪̦̤̦̬̝͇̻̙̰̲̮͎̥̻̪̣͛͐̋̽̇̅́̔̽͐̎͊̈́̇͐̎̾̋̌͊̕͝͠ḯ̷̛̖̤͍̙̯̖̹̩̫̰̼̜͖͓̳̥̮̟͙̯̟̬̗̏͗̕̕͜͜m̸̧̡̧̧̢̛͇͎̗̞̰͎͇̪͖̗̻̦̜̃̄͛́̽̈̏̿͘͝ͅͅë̶̜̘͍̗̩̳̤͎̲͚̯͔͉̠̞̦́̽̽ͅ.̸̨̧̡̡̛̦͎̙̳̥͔͍̤̩͕͔̺̥̳̦̗̹̻͍͎̳̫̂̏̊̈́̎”̷̧̙͕̳̣̫̯̣̖̪̼̟̺̟͈͔̭̀̀̌̿̌̈́̀̂͛͗̃̈͐͘̚̚͝͝

Change time? Does that mean Joan was getting a second chance at life? Again? More reincarnation? To fix the fire?

The bathroom door suddenly swung open and Joan yelped loudly. A sharp pain spirals from her chest and the world around her seemed to become black and white. Jane and Maud are coming in, but their strides are slow. Then, they’re going backwards and the door shuts itself.

Joan gasped as she’s released from whatever-that-was. The air had gotten so thick, like it was encasing her in an invisible full-body cast. A heartbeat seemed to pulsate through the atmosphere, beating loudly in her brain. She had absolutely no idea what that was.

“̷̢̨̮̩͖͉̲̤̲͔̳͔̰̫͉̳̙̼̝̘̩͋͂̈́͂͜͜͜ͅỸ̵̠̞͇̬̂́̀̈́ó̴̧̢̤̭̪̘͕̥̺͙̘̯͕̖̜̹͂̀͑̃́͛͜͠͝͝ͅư̶̡̧̛͕̖̯̙̦̗̩̼̮͉̓̆̒̈́̊̓̌̂̀̈́̑̈̎͋͆͐̒̅̾͘͘͝͝͝ͅ.̸̧̢͙͓̹͖͍̩͈͙̬̮͇̬̱͙̩̗̫́́͑̈́̅̈́́́͋́̄͑̾̑̈́͘̕͠͝͝͝͝ͅ ̵̧̫̯̝̠̪͖̹̟̮̤͍̹̰̫̖̲͉̦̭̰͉̻͕̈́́́͋́͝͝ͅͅͅR̵̦͈̰̰̜̭͉̘̙̠͓͖̠͉̞̗̈͐̇̋̀͗́͝ë̸̥̦͍̗̠̠̩͜v̴͈̮̪̦̞̳̳͍̝̦̖͉̫̝̄̽͋̑͂Ȩ̶̞̻̦̙̪̬͙͓͚͒͂͌̎́̒̅͑̏̒͗̄͘̚͘̕͝͝͝ͅr̶̡̛͖̮̟̲̽̈̈̽̅̍́͊̓͛̓̇̂̄̓̽̌͛̄̄̈́̕̕͝͝ͅs̵̡̢̡̬͙̖͍̻̀̎̏͋̅͐̆͛̍̽͌̔͛̄̌̇̈̈́̒̇̕͘͘ͅĕ̴̳̤͔͍͉̯̣̞̩͍̺̖̺͍̾͋̀̑̋̅̊̀̕͘.̴̧̨̧̨̳̯̼͉̗͙̗͇̮͕͕̝̼̔̄͊͒̅̊̏̄͌̾͂̆̓̀͌̀͆̎̔̿̈̈̓͒̕͘̕ͅ ̴̡̨̡̧̣̯͔͔̲͚̬̳̝̘͕̥̺̤͕̻̰͆T̸̡̨̫̣̯͉̼͙͖̤̳̥̬͍̣͈̰̎́͌̽̋̇͋̿̋̌͜͝i̵̢͍͕̹̫͛͊̓̇͘m̶͍̋̃͐́̏́ȩ̷̬̘͕̠̘͙͚̩̟̜̠̞̱͖̠̥̥̱̞̰̝͔̲̍̓̅̾͗̅̑̆̾̊̿̀͂͊͐͜͝͠ͅ.̵̢͈̼̝̯̥̤͛̑̃͋͑͐̀͆̆̈́̋́̾̏̇̒̊̈́́͌̈́̅̓͆͂”̵̡̧͍̬̭̮͉̺̣͕̠̩̳͇̣̹̝̤͉̫̫̰̜̋̀̀̊͜

Joan swallowed hard. That’s what she did? She reversed fucking time?

She remembered the pain she had felt and pulled down the collar of her shirt a little bit. Right above her cleavage was a thin slot carved in her skin. It was around three inches in length and about half an inch in width. The inside was completely blackened, but it seemed to give off a blue glow.

“What...the...fuck...?”

Joan looked up and the creature was gone from the mirror. The bathroom door swung open and Jane and Maud walked in.

“Joan?” Jane called out with her worried mother voice, “Honey, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Joan considered telling the truth, but it’s not like anyone would believe her. They would think she’s a total nutcase, and that’s not what she wanted.

“Uhh...sorry.” She said sheepishly, still a little shaken up, “I just... Bad dream.”

“We could tell, hun,” Maud said, “Are you okay? Do you need to talk about it?”

“No, I’m okay,” Joan assured her, “Let’s just...get to practice!”

The way the forty minutes that went by seemed so eerily familiar. So far, things were going just fine. It came around the time that Joan left to go get the blanket, but she didn’t this time, even when she started to shiver. She had to stay put and save everyone.

Or, that’s what she likes to tell herself.

While idly playing Heart of Stone on the piano, Joan caught a strong scent of what she thought was fish. Her nose twitches as she looks around in utter confusion. What was that? Hadn’t Anne brought that up earlier?

Joan decided not to let it bother her. It was probably nothing. She got back to focusing on playing.

Then, the outlet near Jane and Aragon crackled and flames spewed out everywhere. Bright embers caught on the back of Jane’s dress; the queen was on fire. Red and gold engulfed her at a terrifying rate and it would probably only be a few minutes until she was dead. Aragon was burning, too, now, along with Maud and Cleves, and only then does Joan realize she had smelled burning plastic, which gave off a fishy aroma. She could have stopped this. She could have saved Jane. She could have...

She could.

Almost like it knew, Joan’s new ability triggered. The world becomes grey, except for the fire, which is strangely still in color. The burning victims start to flail in reverse until they’re calm again and the flames are pulled off of their bodies by an invisible force. Strings of marigold and orange retract into the electrical socket, becoming perfectly normal once more.

Joan is left gasping after the rewind ends, but she’s far from done. She jumps into action, hurrying over to the group. Even though her mind was set on saving Jane specifically, she had to try and get the other queens and Maud away, too.

“You guys have to move!” She yelled.

Too bad she don’t have time to come up with a believable explanation. That socket was going to pop at any second.

“Joan, what’s gotten into you this time?” Cleves asked, humoring her.

“Guys, please just listen to me. Can’t you just stand somewhere else? Trust me, please.”

The queens exchanged looks, but Maud obliged and waved them to a different section of the room. Joan breathed a sigh of relief just as the socket exploded into flames.

This time, instead of screams of pain, there were screams of terror. Joan hissed when a few flying embers landed on her arm and she clawed to get them off. She stumbled backwards, scratching at her burn to try and soothe the pain. When she turns her head, Joan gives her a shocked look.

“We have to get out of here!” Aragon yelled, and Anne and Katherine were already out the door.

“Cover your mouth with your hand or shirt, just don’t breathe in the smoke!” Parr shouted.

The fire was spreading fast. Queens were running in every direction. Sworn to serve her mistress, even in this life, Joan grabbed Jane’s hand so they wouldn’t get separated. Thick black smog was quickly filling up the rooms.

Even with her collar pulled up in front of her nose and mouth, Joan could still taste the acrid aroma. Her eyes start to water from the smoke, so she has to squint, but she manages to shove her way out of the building safely. The rain felt amazing on her heated skin.

“How...how did you do that?” Aragon asked from a few feet away after taking a few gulps of clean air.

“Do what?” Joan glanced at her, rubbing her burned arm.

“Know that there was going to be a fire. That’s why you told us to move!” The first queen looked a little suspicious.

“The smell,” Joan said cooly, “Melted plastic kinda smells like fish. That meant there could have been a possible electrical fire. I didn’t know it was actually going to happen, though. I just had to play it safe.”

Jane was the first to thank Joan and the embrace the girl earned was warm and sweet, even with the freezing rain.

The firefighters showed up quickly and were able to tame the flames with the help of the storm. Bessie, Maggie, and Maria came, too, and the first thing they did was hug Joan tightly and make sure she was okay. For the first time all day, in their arms, Joan felt safe.

—

Time travel was a huge feat, even if it didn’t make sense or even feel real. Once she was at home, Joan spent at least an hour in her bedroom just testing out her new ability. She would drop something on the ground and then reverse time, putting the object back in its place. It was truly incredible!

While dropping a bunch of journals, Joan yelped when she looked up to see that monster thing in her mirror again.

“You have got to stop doing that!” She snapped like it was a dog or something.

She steps forward and leans on the dresser below the mirror, inspecting the creature closely.

“So, what are you doing here? Have you come to tell me more about my cool new ability? Thanks, by the way. It’s awesome!”

The creature growled lowly and Joan furrowed her eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?”

For a moment, it does nothing. Then, it’s gone, vanishing into tendrils of black smoke in the glass. Joan was about to shrug it off before she heard the squeak of her mattress bending under weight and turned to see the monster in the room with her.

“Oh my god!” She yelled in surprise.

This thing had to be at least seven, maybe eight feet feet tall. It’s crouched on all fours, razor sharp claws gripping into her blankets. The only facial feature Joan can see are its eyes.

“What...what are you...?” Joan asked in a hoarse whisper.

She was suddenly very uncomfortable and intimidated with this thing being face-to-face with her.

Its head continues to twitch around wildly for a moment before stopping. It looks down and raises one arm. The black haze its body seems to give off is gone around the area below the hand, revealing leathery, flesh-colored hide with a rusty tint from something smeared across it. Similar to Joan, there’s spotted burns on its wrist. It looks back up. Joan does, too.

“What are you?” Joan asked again, this time louder.

Her vision was flickering all of a sudden. She could see writing on the walls, the same word over and over and over again.

JEANNE

The weird vision ended and the creature slowly cranes its head down to look at the girl.

“̶͇͚̳̝̤̼̰͉͕̹̝̠̾̚͜ͅḬ̷̣̥̎̈́͆̎͆̆͆.̶͓̯̩͕̖̪͚͊̈̑͝ ̸̨͉͓̻̘̳̑͑̅͑͜Á̶̛͓̮̱̲͔̜͉̭̄͐͗̽̓̽̋̈́̓̽͆́͑͜͜ͅm̶̼͖͙͈̱͇̺̘̰͋͆̌̑.̵̜̳̯̙͓̥̘̟̠͚̞͉́̈́̍̂͗̔̔̎̎͆͝͠ ̷̜̫͉̼̜̥͉̖̰̂͛̍̾̅͆̇̾̈́̇͌̔̾̇ͅỴ̸̨̰̩̭͈̆̔̾̈́́̀́͜o̷͙̰̤͕̬̗͈͎ư̵̲̲̓̇͑͌̋͗͂̅̇͋̚͝.̸̢͙̔̎̅̌͒̈́͑͋̒̏̽̍̄̕

————

Jeanne [name]

Pronunciation- /dʒoʊn/

Gender- Female

Word- French

Meaning- The Lord is merciful

Related names- Jean, João, Ivana, Jovan, Jovana, Jovanka, Ioan, Ioana, Jan, Jann, Yanne, Jouan, Ivan, Siobhán, J̵̨̘̝̣̲̬̖͙̲̟̠̲̽̊̅̈́ ̸̲̪̰̣͚̎̐́̈́̋̉͑̊́̂̈́̕͝o̸͚͋̂̅͜ ̸̜̀̇͌̆̈̾͆̽͋͆a̶̧̮͓̙̘̙̔͂̾̋͆̈́ ̷̨̗̲̰̣͓̒̀̽̈́̕ṉ̶̘̬͊̑͆̇͛̽̂́̑͋͝

#new AU ;)#have fun with this one :))#it's confusing #as it should be :)#it's supposed to be like that #six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #joan on the keys #jane seymour #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #katherine howard #catherine parr #maud #time travel au

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hexalt · 5 years

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oh my god i think i like you

- you're pretty & smart & ignoring me so obviously you're my type. - i won't forget, i won't regret this beautiful, heart stopping, breathtaking, life-changing... - hey. you're the love of my life. you know that, right?

a rebecca bunch x greg serrano mega mix from season 1 to season 4, so there's A LOT OF MOODS. prepare to laugh, cry, and dance. cover completely inspired by cordeliafoxxy's mix fanmix challenge - ix. fictional relationships (groups, family, friendship, otp, etc.)

[ spotify | 8tracks (incomplete) ]

falling for the first time - barenaked ladies I'm so cool, too bad I'm a loser / I'm so smart, too bad I can't get anything figured out / I'm so sane, it's drivin' me crazy / It's so strange, I can't believe it feels just like I'm falling for the first time

i’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance - black kids I'm not gonna teach him how to dance / The second I do, I know we're gonna be through / I'm not gonna teach him how to dance with you / He don't suspect a thing / I wish he'd get a clue / I'm not gonna teach him how to dance to with you

bartender - regina spektor Come on, bartender / You have got to kick me back out / Into the cold and nasty weather / And maybe if I sober up / I will stop / Pretending that love is forever / Come on, bartender / Love will be the death of me / Love is so fickle / It starts with a flood and it ends with a trickle

closing time - semisonic Closing time / One last call for alcohol so finish your whiskey or beer / Closing time / You don't have to go home but you can't stay here / I know who I want to take me home

settle for me - santino fontana Yes, Josh is a dream, but I’m right here / In flesh and blood and self-hate / Settle for me / In a sad way, darling, it’s fate

settle for me (reprise) - rachel bloom Why not just settle for him? / He's a nice, smart guy / And he and I / Do get along... / Well, kind of.

i really want you to hate me - meg myers I really want you to hate me / I really want you to find / That I am bitter and angry / That I'm the ugliest girl / And I will never be a bride / There's no love for the wicked / There's no love and / I wanna die

self esteem - the offspring I wrote her off for the tenth time today / And practiced all the things I would say / But she came over / I lost my nerve / I took her back and made her dessert / Now I know I'm being used / That's okay because I like the abuse / I know she's playing with me / That's okay 'cause I've got no self-esteem

feels like we only go backwards - tame impala I've got my hopes up again, oh no, not again / It feels like we only go backwards, darlin' / The seed of all this indecision isn't me / 'Cause I decided long ago / But that's the way it seems to go / When trying so hard to get to something real

shadowboxer - fiona apple I was on to every play / I just wanted you / But oh, it's so evil, my love, the way you've no / Reverence to my concern / So I'll be sure to stay wary of you, love / To save the pain of once my flame and twice my burn

happier - a fine frenzy Quick kid quick, so harsh and cynical / It's not the words that make it final / You've said such things before to rival them / But it's how you say 'em now that's changed / Cold but sympathetic all the same / Lie to convince me that I'll be better off / Oh, you go on and I'll be happier

tired - adele I'm tired of trying / Your teasing ain't enough / Fed up of biding your time / When I don't get nothing back / I get closer, you obviously prefer him

it’s you - zayn She got / Her own reasons / For talking to me / And she don't, she don't, she don't / Give a fuck about what I need / And I can't tell you why / Because my brain can't equate it / Tell me your lies / Because I just can't face it

the writing’s on the wall - ok go It seems like forever / Since we had a good day / The writing's on the wall / But I just want to get you high tonight / I just want to see some pleasure in your eyes / And I go too high, and you go too cold then we both fall apart / Then you bring your mind, to rest against mine / But the mind has no say on affairs of the heart

tear you apart - she wants revenge Either way he wanted her and this was bad / He wanted to do things to her it was making him crazy / Now a little crush turned into a like / And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her, / "I want to hold you close / Soft breasts, beating heart / As I whisper in your ear / I want to fucking tear you apart"

i gave you a uti - santino fontana One night with me is pure ecstasy / 'Cause I know just what you like / But you should know for a week or so / You won't be able to ride a bike / I gave you a UTI

oh my god i think i like you - rachel bloom I say, "No no no! This is just about sex!" / And "No no no! Don't be such a girl, Becks!" / But then I feel the oxytocin creeping back to my brain / And all I can do is sing it again / Oh my god, I think I like you

everything is embarrassing - sky ferreira Maybe if you let me be your lover / Maybe if you tried, then I would not bother / I've been hating everything, everything that could have been / Could have been my anything, now everything's embarrassing

like a friend - pulp I had one, two, three / Four shots of happiness, I look like a big man / But I've only got a little soul / I wish I could be an example / Wish I could say I stood up for you / And fought for what was right / But I never did / I did what was wrong though I knew what was right / I've got no wisdom that I want to pass on

slow disco - st. vincent There's blood in my ears / And a fool in the mirror / And the pain of mistakes couldn't get any clearer / Am I thinking what everybody's thinkin'? / I'm so glad I came, but I can't wait to leave / Slip my hand from your hand / Leave you dancin' with a ghost

about a girl - the academy is... Last night I knew what to say / But you weren't there to hear it / These lines so well rehearsed / Tongue-tied and overloaded / You never noticed / I'm not in love / This is not my heart / I'm not gonna waste these words / About a girl

twice - little dragon Twice I turn my back on you / I fell flat on my face but didn't lose / Tell me what led you on, I'd love to know / Was it both men / Thought I had an answer once / But your random ways swept me along

knife - grizzly bear I want you to know / When I look in your eyes / With every blow / Comes another lie / You think it's alright / Can't you feel the knife?

still - foo fighters Bring some change up to the bridge / Bring some alcohol / There we'll make a final wish / Just before the fall / Promise I will be forever yours / Promise not to say another word

false alarm - the head and the heart Visions of you dance through my head / Dark heroine of the books I have read / Pages torn out, I made up my own world / Deep in the dream, it's all built to last / You'll pull the plug, drain me down fast / So many stones, stuck in my shoes / And I know if there's enough / It could make up a road / That could lead me far from this town

georgia - vance joy She is something to behold / Elegant and bold / She is electricity / Running to my soul / And I could easily lose my mind / The way you kiss me will work each time / Calling me to come back to bed / Singing Georgia on my mind

anyone who knows what love is (will understand) - irma thomas You can blame me / Try to shame me / And still I'll care for you / You can run around / Even put me down / Still I'll be there for you / The world / May think I'm foolish / They can't see you / Like I can / Oh but anyone / Who knows what love is / Will understand

i wanna get better - bleachers I didn’t know I was lonely 'til I saw your face / I wanna get better / I didn't know I was broken 'til i wanted to change / I wanna get better

it was a shit show - santino fontana We can't undo, can't make amends / Dysfunction is our lingua franca / When you say that I should stay / That's exactly when I should split / Though I won't forget, I won't regret / This beautiful, heart stopping / Breathtaking, life-changing...!

vertigo - anya marina The song you sing is sentimental / The song you sing is making me well / I like it, like it, outta control / The song you sing gives me vertigo / I was singing to myself / Pretending you were there

santa monica dream - angus & julia stone I'm singing songs about the future / Wondering where you are / I could call you on the telephone / But do I really want to know? / You're making love now to the lady down the road / No I don't, I don't want to know / I'm somewhere, you're somewhere / I'm nowhere, you're nowhere / You're somewhere, you're somewhere / I could go there but I don't

weary blues - madeleine peyroux Lord knows it died the day you left / My dream world fell apart / Weary blues from waitin' / Lord, I've been waitin' so long / These blues have got me cryin' / Oh, sweet daddy please come home

love is a losing game - amy winehouse Love is losing game / One I wished, I never played / Oh, what a mess we made / And now the final frame

hello, nice to meet you - rachel bloom & skyler astin Pleased to make your acquaintance, stranger / I've spent many years processing my anger / Wouldn't know what to say to the person I knew / But it's nice to meet you

enchanted - taylor swift All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you / This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go / I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

505 - arctic monkeys I'm going back to 505 / If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive / In my imagination you're waiting, lying on your side / With your hands between your thighs / But I crumble completely when you cry / It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye

forget forgive - someone Bad thoughts pushing at the neck / Puts pressure on the chest / Calm sorrow / Forget / Forgive

warning sign - coldplay I’ve gotta tell you what a state I’m in / I’ve gotta tell you in my loudest tones / That I started looking for a warning sign / When the truth is, I miss you

fine with me - rizzle kicks Spit out the bitter when life isn't sweet, yeah / That's fine with me, fine with me / Just for today, if nothing goes my way, well / That's fine with me, fine with me / 'Cause I'm in the place / Where nothing could happen / To the smile on my face

warm body - cafune Give me all your heartaches and I'll push them down the drain / There's no need for voices that aren't singing this refrain / Say all you want, just stay / You just need a warm body / I'll be your install, I just need your warm body / Everybody knows, they just need to talk about it / Stay this way, hit replay

stop desire - tegan and sara I can't deny I'm begging for attention / Dropping hints, hoping for some tension / Getting tired of making all this racket / Waiting on you to get your ass in gear / I didn't wanna be so invested / I played it cool and then I overdressed it / Get me, feel me, want me / Like me, love me, need me

she’s so high - tal bachman First class and fancy-free, she's high society / She's got the best of everything / What could a guy like me ever really offer? / She's perfect as she can be, why should I even bother? / 'Cause, she's so high, high above me / She's so lovely

i really like you - carly rae jepsen I need to tell you something / I really, really, really, really, really, really like you / And I want you, do you want me, do you want me too?

sweet - little dragon Sweet, that feeling when you know you're hooked and you can't get enough / Sweet, that feeling when you're skating down the avenue of love / Sweet, I was checking on your phone because this sweetness is drugs / Sweet, can't get enough, not giving up

i hate everything but you - skyler astin I hate the phrase "Love conquers all," and I hate that it's true / 'Cause I want to not hate things when I'm with you / You love so many things and you have so much fun / It makes me wish my hating days were done

love natural - crystal fighters It's almost midnight, the time is coming up / The time is getting closer, the time is almost here / Life is upon us and the time for love is here and now / When I look at you, oh I feel my heart / Oh, I feel your love deep inside

do it again - santino fontana My lips just ache to have you take the kiss that's waiting for you / You know if you do, you won't regret it, come and get it / Do it again, please do it again

the sword & the pen - regina spektor Don't let me out of this kiss / Don't let me say what I say / The things that scare us today / What if they happen someday / Don't let me out of your arms / For now / I don't want to live without you

sea of love - cat power Do you remember / When we met / That's the day / I knew you were my pet / I wanna tell you / How much / I love you

#crazy ex girlfriend #greg serrano #rebecca bunch #cxg #cxgf #grebecca #playlist #greg x rebecca #fanmix #music #fanmix challenge #mine #*

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annerbhp · 5 years

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So, quite a long time ago, I had a WIP. It was called Down Here Among the Wreckage, an SG-1 Sam/Jack darkfic angst-overload story that I always had every intention of finishing, but am very sure now I never will. So I am liberating the partial, but nearly finished next part of the story as I promised I would to some people over on twitter. Very un-beta’d, very unfinished, and probably not the shippy resolution you were hoping for, but maybe some small smidges. There was to be a fifth part, but that is pretty much just a couple of sentences and one final ending scene. So maybe I’ll come back and post that too. For you, my wormhos and Jomantha fans. ;) As always, my inbox is open if people have specific questions about this fic or any of my fics. Yes, even the SG-1 ones.

Down Here Among the Wreckage – Part 4 – Aftermath

Kiras is going to die.

He sees the truth of it in every face he passes on his journey three levels up and two sectors over. People who would normally never give way to him seem to melt out of his path in deference, and to anyone ignorant of the situation, this might seem like a mark of Kiras’ status, that he is a fierce fighter no one would dare to waylay for even a moment. That couldn’t be further from the truth, Kiras thinks with the sort of wryness only a dead man walking can muster. To block his way would be to risk associating oneself with the taint of the doomed, or worse, open up the possibility of the death mark being passed off to them. Not that Kiras has the cards to play, the clout to work with to make that even a possibility. There is a reason, after all, that this task has fallen to him. But debts and bloodpacts have a way of appearing from the place least expected, and the others respect that enough to step out his way, to give him that one honor.

There isn’t a point in wishing things different, so Kiras just walks with whatever dignity he has and tries to pretend the message in his hand is anything other than what it is—a death sentence.

As he nears the upper chambers, the hallways rapidly depopulate until there are only two guards at the entrance doors. They don’t look at Kiras or the message in his hand, but merely open the door, their eyes carefully riveted to the ceiling.

Kiras summons whatever small cache of courage he has and enters the room.

Netan is not alone, twelve of his most powerful lieutenants sitting with an arrogant sort of ease around a heavily laden table as Kiras enters. They are smug in their conviction that Kiras will pay for their sins. Which he surely will.

Kiras doesn’t bother hating them. What was the point?

“Read it,” Netan commands.

It takes Kiras a few tries to start, to get the words out, the numbers of casualties, ships lost, the mere pittance that returned from the doomed run against Anubis.

Netan’s face darkens as Kiras reads, the lines of his face impossibly hard, but he does not bellow or rage. Like maybe he already knew the numbers. Perhaps the point is not the numbers, but what Netan will do to Kiras because of them. An example.

There are worse things to be.

“An explanation?” Netan asks.

The lieutenants rumble self-importantly about the Tau’ri and the Valedin, playing lip service to Netan’s prejudices until he lifts his hand for them to stop.

Netan holds out his cup to Kiras. “Would you hold this for me?” he asks, voice almost…gentle.

Kiras feels a shudder of revulsion travel down his spine, even as he reaches for the cup. “Yes, sir.”

There will probably be a little money. No large sum, but some form of payment to his family back on Yartan for his loss. It is the way of children traded to the Lucian. (He has long since learned not to use the word ‘stolen’, even in the privacy of his mind. Mind-words too easily become tongue-words, and death comes readily enough without thoughtless speech.)

With his hands now free, Netan reaches for his weapon.

Kiras squeezes his eyes shut.

There is a rapid succession of blasts, and Kiras only has enough thought to be thankful that death doesn’t hurt as much as he imagined it would. It’s only when he cracks one eye open in the succeeding silence that he realizes there were twelve shots.

Netan stands nearby, rubbing casually at his hands with a cloth, dabbing away the oil his blaster left on his skin, the burn of ozone still heavy in the air. After nearly a minute of careful, methodical grooming, he turns to Kiras and holds out a hand.

It takes Kiras a moment to realize what he wants, nearly stumbling with haste to hand back the cup.

“You may go,” Netan says.

Kiras nods, bowing almost to the waist like they did to the ancient kings centuries past, not letting his eyes stray towards the table and its damning bloody silence. “Yes, sir.”

Kiras is not the quickest or the smartest, but it occurs to him as he unashamedly flees the room of death that the only reason Netan let him live was for the story to be spread, growing larger and larger with each retelling.

Kiras dutifully complies, stopping to whisper the horrors into every ear he passes, but does not bother to exaggerate.

The original story is horrifying enough as it is.

* * *

Cam stares down at the dubiously smudged glass slammed down on the bar in front of him. The scent emanating from the slosh of liquid that follows makes his eyes water, but at least comforts him that whatever might have been living in that glass before certainly wouldn’t be anymore.

He can only hope the man who served him makes a better informant than he does a barkeep.

"Bottom's up," the scruffy guy says.

Cam glances down at the bar, noticing a distinct lack of a second glass. "None for you?"

The barkeep laughs. "Are you kidding? That crap'll rot you from the inside."

Cam frowns, but doesn't answer as another patron sidles up to the bar and is cheerfully poured a generous serving of the rotgut in question.

Can this really be the guy Reynolds sent him to collect intelligence from? He has the air of a burned out hippy to be completely honest. The only thing that makes Cam think this guy could have anything legitimate to offer are his eyes. They are dark and beady and make Cam think of cockroaches and that old saying about the end of the world. This guy seems like he would land on his feet every damn time.

Deep in his thoughts, Cam accidentally takes a sip of the drink in front of him. He sputters, nearly spitting it out before he remembers he's not supposed to be drawing attention to himself, especially here of all places. With great effort, he swallows it down, his eyes stinging. Hell, he supposes he should just be thankful he hasn't gone instantly blind.

Down at the other end of the bar, cockroach man throws back his head and laughs.

It's nearly dawn by the time the crowd empties out, making it safe for them to talk.

The bartender doesn’t even bother waiting for Cam to ask, just a slides a slim data device towards him. "Rumor has it that Netan finally lost his shit."

Cam raises an eyebrow, trying not to imagine just what the normally self-possessed-to-the-point-of-ice Netan would look like in a temper. The stuff of nightmares really.

The barkeep nods, leaning in as if to share salacious details. “Personally killed all twelve of his lieutenants if the stories can be believed. With a sword.”

Jesus. “Doesn’t like having his ships blown up much, does he,” Cam surmises. Like they hadn’t all equally strolled into a trap. Netan had lost ships, yes, but they were the ones to lose lives.

A lot of lives.

The informant shrugs. “Personally, I would have at least taken the time to interrogate them first,” he says, sounding as if torture is just the logical first step.

“Yeah?” Cam says.

The guy’s eyes narrow. “You understand that you were betrayed, right? How else could Anubis possibly have known?”

How indeed. But that is a worry that is far above Cam’s pay scale. If he were actually still getting paid. He’s got other things to worry about.

“Any final word on just how many ships made it back to the Lucian Alliance?” Cam tries to sound as casual as he can, like it doesn’t really matter. If Netan is losing his shit as much as this guy says, they’d be fools not to assume he will turn on them next. Knowing exactly how many ships he managed to snatch back from the fight with his hidden recall technology is vital.

“Enough that you should worry.”

“Yeah?” Cam asks.

The guy shoves the data device towards him again. “It’s all there.”

Cam palms the device, knowing it’s time to get up and walk away. He picks up the glass again. “Hypothetically, what would happen to someone taken prisoner by the Lucian?”

A bushy eyebrow lifts above a flinty eye. “You mean other than being tortured and killed for information?”

Cam fights back a wince. “Yes. Other than that.”

He shrugs. “Well, you know where most of the wealth driving the Alliance comes from.”

“Naquadah,” Cam says.

He nods. “Someone has to work the mines.”

Cam spins the glass between his palms. “You happen to know any of the locations of those mine?”

He laughs. “Now that is information worth more than both of our lives.”

Cam gets up to leave, the drive disappearing into his pocket.

“Hey.”

Cam turns back. The bartender seems to be struggling with something. “I hear Jack O’Neill is alive. Is that true?”

“You know O’Neill?”

“A couple of lifetimes ago,” he says with a wry grin that almost looks nostalgic. “So…it’s true?”

“It is,” Cam says. “Or it was.” Is being frozen in ice with a brain overloaded by Ancient knowledge more dead or more alive? Cam doesn’t know. “It’s complicated.”

The guy nods. “Things always were with him.”

Somehow, Cam thinks that’s the understatement of the century.

* * *

Jason Reynolds paces his office, the small victory they managed to wrest already fading in the face of the odds shifting against their favor yet again.

The Lucian Alliance aren’t quite the allies dreams are made of. They still need to neutralize Anubis once and for all, if the written ramblings of Jack O’Neill are to be believed, and now they get to look back over their shoulders, always wondering when the Lucian Alliance will make their move.

Earth is vulnerable. Prime for the picking. They need whatever intel they can get their hands on. A job he would dearly love to give to Jack O’Neill, if he weren’t locked away in a block of ice. Instead he sent Cam, whose restless energy since the battle has been only growing. Something about the battle rattled Cam in a way the loss of Earth had not. Or maybe, Reynolds thinks more likely, something was finally the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Netan believes we were betrayed,” Mitchell announces upon his return, sliding a slim data device across the table towards him.

Jason shakes his head. “There are a million ways Anubis could have discovered our plans.” Not to mention that he’s beginning to suspect that Anubis was moving the pieces towards that showdown for a lot longer than any of them realize. Netan can take his paranoia out on whomever he wishes. The past is past. Jason is more concerned with their rather shaky future.

“We need to focus on what Netan is planning next.”

Mitchell’s jaw clenches. “I think you were right. I think we have to assume that Netan knows.”

Jason wishes he could say he was surprised. “You’ll take care of it?”

Mitchell nods. “I can be on Earth in two days.” Jackson isn’t going to like it, but Jason has bigger concerns than the scientist’s pangs of conscience. He’s trying to save an entire race.

“There’s one more thing, sir,” Mitchell says, lingering in front of the desk.

Jason sighs internally, knowing what is coming and really not looking forward to it. He’s indulged Mitchell so far, but it’s time for that to end.

“If there were survivors, your contact seemed to think—”

“If there were survivors, Colonel,” Jason interrupts, voice hard. “That’s a giant if. And we have more pressing certainties ready to bite us in the ass.” None of them can afford to have Mitchell continue to be so distracted, to have his focus split. It’s going to get people killed. “You need to let this go.”

Mitchell stiffens, mouth open and face outraged, ready to push on forever if Jason gives him so much as an inch. So he doesn’t.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Jason barks.

Mitchell looks like he might fight for a moment, his face eventually smoothing to a sort of emotionless mask that may have disturbed Jason under any other circumstances. “No, sir,” he says, voice clipped.

Jason nods. “Then get gone.”

Mitchell turns on his heel and stalks out.

* * *

Daniel shivers, burrowing his face deeper into the furry lapel of his coat. Despite the obscene amount of gas generators they have down here, it is still an ice cave. He warily glances up at the ceiling, his mind calculating the sheer weight of ice and rock above their heads. He’s far too aware of what can happen when the slightest foundation shifts.

Shoving his hands deeper in his pockets, he shifts from foot to foot as the rings in front of him whine into life. Cam materializes out of the light, cursing roundly as he does.

“Goddamn, it’s colder than a—“

“Welcome to Antarctica,” Daniel interrupts what would no doubt be a colorful colloquialism. “You were expecting bikinis and tiny little umbrella drinks?”

“No,” Cam says, “but I also didn’t think I’d have to worry about my balls turning to ice.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “It’s a bit warmer back in the lab,” he says, canting his head.

“Wait,” Cam says, and Daniel feels his stomach clench, having some idea of the sort of thing that would bring Cam all this way.

Cam glances around, canting his head off to the side away from listening ears. “The Lucian are coming.”

Daniel grimaces. He wishes he could say that was a surprise, Netan turning on them. Vala always warned them that this was a terrible idea. But he also knows that Cam would never come all this way just to tell him that. “And?”

“We need Sam.”

Daniels sighs. “Reynolds sent you to get her?” He would wonder why Reynolds sent Cam to collect her, when her own father is already on the planet, except Jacob doesn’t want her going back to Omega. He won’t stop her, but he isn’t going to talk her into it either.

Cam shakes his head. “I need you to take her. I have a few other things to take care of.”

Daniel’s eyes narrow. “Other things?”

Cam’s face isn’t giving anything away, and that is disturbing enough in and of itself. “Don’t worry about it.”

Yeah. Like that is going to happen.

Cam slaps his hands against his thighs, probably trying to knock feeling back into them. “You’ll get her there?”

Daniel frowns, thinking of Sam back in the lab behind him, the way she’s been since they discovered her down here with nothing but a frozen body for company.

“Idun, Daniel,” she snaps, pacing around the small space, her breath bursting out in white puffs. “Where did he go?”

Daniel’s long since given up trying to get her to sit still long enough to get medical to look her over. He steps aside as another tech swarms through the space, taking readings. “Sam, he died. His body failed and he didn’t have the resources to make a new one.”

She looks like he may have well taken a sledgehammer to her, her face paling. “And the other Asgard?”

He shakes his head, refusing to look at the frozen visage of Jack O’Neill behind him. “There are no more Asgard, Sam.”

No more miracles.

Sam turns abruptly away from him, but not before he sees the stark bleakness of her expression.

He finds her later, her hand pressed over the ice covering Jack’s face, her voice low as she speaks. “Is this why? Because you knew I’d never be able to find a way?”

Jack has no answers to share.

“Jackson,” Cam says, his hard voice snapping Daniel back to the present. “Just get her there.”

He turns and walks back to the rings.

Daniel walks back into the main lab, the hastily installed set of heavy duty doors sliding back in place behind him. He lets out a sigh at the relative warmth of the space. Shrugging out of his thick parka, he drapes it over the back of his chair, glancing at the crumpled collection of papers strewn across his desk.

The papers are covered with writing, some much more legible than others, all written in a evolving dialect of Ancient that has kept Daniel struggling for weeks to decipher. Jack’s last words, scribbled on the back of anything he could get his hands on.

The longest piece of writing is a letter. About Anubis. To be honest either Daniel’s Ancient is rusty or Jack was more than a little gone when he wrote it. It’s full of strange phrases like ‘death is not the end’, ‘not human’, and some word Daniel can’t define at all that might have something to do with non-corporeal. Ascension?

He’ll build himself a new body. He always does. Unless you stop him.

Daniel can’t make sense of it.

The only thing that convinces him that they aren’t just the rantings of a delusional man is the careful note in the margin. “Tell Carter, tell her I, just thank her for me. Thank her for saving me in every way that a person can be saved. Take care of her.”

Daniel glances up at Sam on the other side of the lab, currently lying on her back with her head stuck in an Ancient console. He’s doing his best to do what Jack asked him, but Sam has always been like a force of nature.

They limit her to ten-hour shifts, forcing her back up to the orbiting Prometheus for rest and warmth. That still hasn’t stopped her from hacking her way back down here from time to time. Daniel still hasn’t decided what is worse, the listless hopelessness she was mired in at first, or this manic, focusless rush to solve a solution to an unsolvable problem that has obsessed her since. Endless lifelessness or a bright thing threatening to burn out far too fast?

Daniel takes a deep breath and crosses the space. “Sam.”

She’s muttering to herself, what sounds like the basic conjugation of simple Ancient verbs. She’s insisted on Daniel teaching her to read and speak the Ancient language, no matter how slow it is going or how much Sam clearly doesn’t have an aptitude for it.

“Sam,” he tries again. “I need to—”

She pops out, wagging a finger at him. “Ancient.”

Daniel sighs. She only wants him to speak to her in Ancient, even if it makes all of their conversations take ten times as long. They don’t have time for games. “They need you back at Omega.”

Sam seems to consider that for a moment before sticking her head back in the console. “Too bad.”

“Sam,” Daniel says, dragging a hand over his face.

“No, Daniel,” she says. “Do you honestly think anything would make me leave--?” She abruptly swallows the end of the sentence, just enough for Daniel to know there is a lot she isn’t saying.

“Dammit, Sam,” Daniel says. “Don’t you get it? If Netan obliterates us, then none of it meant anything. Not you coming back, not Jack sticking his head in that thing again. It’s all meaningless if we let this happen.”

Maybe it’s a low blow, but she needs to understand what is at stake.

She slides out of the computer, giving him a hard look. Pushing to her feet, she walks away from him.

He paces after her. “You don’t think they’ll take this place from us as well? That he won’t want to get his hands on the weapon that destroyed Anubis?”

She stops in front of her desk, leaning her palms against the surface. He knows she’s processing something, so lets her take the time, trying not to feel a beat of hope that he is finally reaching her.

Eventually she paws through one of the drawers, pulling out a small slip of paper. She holds it out to him. “Can you tell me what this means?”

Daniel sighs. He thought he could get her to understand just how high the stakes are, but she’s too damned wired into this. “Sam,” he says.

She thrusts the paper towards him again.

He takes it. “Unam sumis,” he reads out loud. At this point, he’s used to Sam asking him questions about translating Ancient, but there’s something odd about the phrase. Like maybe it’s a dialect?

Sam’s jaw tightens. “What does that mean?”

Daniel shakes his head. “I’m not sure. I’d really need to see it in context.”

Sam shakes her head, flapping her hand as if telling him to get on with it.

“Fine,” Daniel says, straightening his glasses. “I think it literally translates as ‘we are united’ or ‘we are one’, but it probably really means something more like, ‘We’re in this together’.”

Sam turns and takes a few steps away from him, the only sign that any of that meant anything to her the slight clenching of her fists by her sides.

“Sam?”

She turns back to him with a nod, looking more determined and focused than he’s ever seen her, not since…before. “If I help…when it’s done I get my own lab and complete access to Idun’s research for as long as I want it. No matter what else comes up.”

She’s bargaining with him. That should hurt except he never thought to see her like this again, eyes sharp and bright, her teeth dug deep into a project that is impossible by any standard of measurement.

“I’ll arrange it with Reynolds.”

“Your word,” she presses.

“I promise.”

Her shoulders lower and he supposes that should make him feel better, that his word still means something to her.

“Okay,” she says. “Then I know what to do.”

* * *

Jacob sighs, dragging a hand over his face. There was a riot in Alpha section today. One Jaffa and one human died, four more seriously wounded. All over an incident involving farm equipment if the reports can at all be believed.

He and Cassie have been trying to run things on Earth the last month. There are surveys to be done, populations to count, resources to be pooled. It will take lifetimes, but Cassie had only lifted her chin and said, “Then I guess we’d better start.”

A month in, it still feels an awful lot like nowhere.

Teal’c looks displeased, arms crossed over his chest. “I do not understand why this is happening.” The Earth survivors have been less than welcoming to the Jaffa, no matter how much they are trying to help, to throw in and create a future together.

Jacob sighs. “They’re afraid, Teal’c. Afraid and angry and looking for anything to blame.”

Teal’c nods. “Perhaps it would be better if we returned to Haktyl.”

“No.”

They turn to look at Cassie.

She looks up at them. “This is what their universe looks like now. Let the Jaffa teach the humans to defend themselves. Let the Tok’ra teach them to salvage their crops. Let every human know one Jaffa or one Tok’ra personally. Let them learn to be grateful for the help. It’s the kindest thing we can do for them.” She walks away, leaning down over the maps. “It’s time to go forward or just…let it all die.”

Jacob looks to Teal’c. He merely inclines his head. “I shall speak to the Jaffa.” He leaves the house.

Jacob comes to stand next to Cassie.

Cassie laughs under her breath, shaking her head.

“What?” Jacob asks.

“Nothing,” she says, waving a hand. “Just thinking about Earth’s future being decided by three aliens.”

Jacob gives her a wry smile. “We’ll let the history books have the last say on that one.”

If there’s anyone left to write it.

After a brisk knock, the two of them look up to see Cam enter.

“Hey, kid,” he says, ruffling Cassie’s hair.

She scowls, shoving him off. “You’re like, what? Two years older than me?”

“More like fifteen,” he says, “but nice try.”

“What’s up?” Jacob asks, surprised to see him back on Earth so soon.

“Vala,” he says.

Jacob’s jaw clenches. It was really only a matter of time. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Have someone watch her ship and the Stargate.”

Cassie sighs. “It’s a mistake.”

Maybe it all is.

* * *

Vala sees him coming, looking up from a few Haktyl women she is trading with.

Cam watches her take in the situation in an instant, her eyes tracking what he assumes are her escape routes, now so carefully cut off thanks to Jacob and a few Jaffa.

“I have to say, I expected you sooner,” she says, eyes defiant under a theatrical pout.

Cam takes her arm. “I’m sure you did.”

He locks her in the back of his ship, not speaking to her again until they are under way.

He tries to resist, but eventually he gets up, walking back into the hold.

“Yes?” she asks.

“The Lucian naquadriah planets,” he says.

Her posture shifts, Vala pulling herself up further. “Yes?” she asks, nearly a purr.

“Do you know any of their locations? The ones any prisoners of war are most likely to be sent to?”

“Are you offering to let me go in exchange for the location? My, my. How you’ve changed.”

Cam gets up to leave.

“I much prefer you this way!”

Cam slams his fist on the controls, the door sliding shut behind him.

* * *

Rodney looks up as the door to his lab opens. Sam strides in, Daniel right on her heels looking a little unsettled.

“Sam?” Rodney says, stepping towards her.

She ignores him, walking straight up to her quilt still hanging on the wall. She reaches out, hand tracing faintly over the stitches before she turns for the boards. She picks up a pen.

“Sam?” Rodney tries again, but she ignores him, Daniel reaching out to stop him from pulling her aware from the board.

“Just let her try,” Daniel says.

For a while it looks like she’s just tugging threads, the whole thing threatening to pull apart. But then it happens.

“Oh my God,” Rodney breathes.

Daniel glances at him. “Genius or gibberish?” he asks.

Rodney rubs at the back of his head. “Genius,” he says, head nodding like it’s on a spring. “Definitely genius.”

Sam builds them a sliver of hope out of nowhere.

“It’ll still take a miracle,” Rodney feels the need to point out.

Daniel smiles. “That’s Sam’s specialty.”

* * *

Now that Sam is on Omega and working, everything has cleared enough in his head that Daniel can finally make sense of Cam and his additional task on Earth.

“Son of a bitch,” he says.

He barges into Reynolds’ office.

“Where is she?”

“I’m sorry, Daniel,” Reynolds says. “This is the way it has to be.”

If he’d accepted that, Earth never would have been freed.

Vala lies in the cell, one hand pressed to her ear as if listening intently to the crystal walls.

“Netan’s turned on us,” Daniel announces.

He tries to see any reaction, but he just can’t read her. Instead she shifts, swinging her feet to the ground.

“I told Jack this was a terrible, terrible idea.” Her hand lifts to the wall, nails dragging down across the crystal.

She doesn’t press for any information, and if she was really playing them, wouldn’t she?

She leans back against the wall, arms folded up behind her head. “Well. If Netan becomes your new overlord, at least your bosses won’t have to decide what to do with me.”

“You’re right,” Daniel says. “They won’t have to make that decision.”

Stepping to the side of the cell, Daniel swipes his card, punching in his code.

Vala pushes to her feet at the sound of the cell unlocking. She looks like she’s waiting for him to assassinate her.

He pulls the door open and steps out of her way.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought that might be obvious. I’m letting you go.”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

He notices that even as she’s clearly wary of his motives, she still steadily heads for the open door. “I don’t,” he says. “But I gave you my word.”

She’s staring back at him as if he’s the most mystifying creature she’s ever met.

Daniel glances at his watch. “You’ve got a fifteen minute window. It was the best I could do.”

That seems to decide her. “It’s all I need.”

“Vala?” he asks as she glances up and down the hall.

She turns back.

“Even if we can protect ourselves, deflect Netan this time…that won’t stop him, will it?” Daniel says.

“No,” Vala says. “It won’t.”

She slips out the door.

* * *

Netan turns as the guards escort his visitor inside his chamber. “Vala. Welcome back.”

He looks for any sign that she resents being here, once again so carefully wrapped up in the world she spent a great deal of energy escaping once upon a time. She would have known the cost though, that day she walked back into his world with two Tau’ri in tow.

Her fingers trail along the edge of the desk. “They tried to lock me away.”

Netan smiles. It was inevitable that the Tau’ri would finally see Vala for what she really is. “And yet, here you are.”

Her lips curve. “Locks can be delicate things.”

Just like people.

“The Tau’ri?”

Her disdain for them is clear in the careless flick of her fingers. “Obsessed with rebuilding Earth.”

He’s long since stopped wondering where her information comes from. It always seems to bleed into her skin, breathing it in like most beings do with oxygen.

“The Ancient weapon they used to defeat Anubis?”

She picks at her nails as if bored. “Depleted.”

“And the rest? Do they know?”

She smiles, a sinuous gesture that sends a thrill of sensation up his spine. She’s truly magnificent. And once again all his.

She settles herself in his lap, looping her arms around his neck. “The poor darlings have no idea what’s coming.”

* * *

Netan’s fleet approaches Omega, their secret little base no longer secret.

“There’s a shield, sir.”

Netan glances at Vala.

She is still lounging sideways on her chair, hands languid and bored. “A pathetic last gasp.”

“She’s right, sir. The energy read out is very weak.”

“Full volley,” Netan orders. It is time the Tau’ri learn their place in the grand order of things. This new galaxy they have birthed together. The secrets of the Asgard will be his.

“Are they returning fire?”

“No. Nor have they launched any ships.”

They are no doubt still protecting fragile little Earth. Strange. But Netan did not come so far by being timid. “Increase power to forward weapons.”

There’s a pulse of light, the moon seeming to shrug, the shield flying outward. At first he thinks this is their feeble protection at last fizzling out, but then the three closest ships crumble in a shatter of light, the shock wave rolling through his own ship, consoles sparking and going dark.

He turns, but Vala is gone. He feels the knife slide into his back the same moment he catches the trace of her scent—spice and mystery, seduction and betrayal.

He should have killed her the first time he ever laid eyes on her.

Her lips are cool against his skin, one last poisoned kiss. “It’s a great, wild, beautiful galaxy out there, Netan,” she whispers like a caress against his cheek. “There’s no more room for tyrants.”

She twists the knife.

* * *

Cam and Daniel board the disabled ship. There is no one there but bodies, the knife still sticking out of Netan’s back.

Cam picks up a small piece of paper left stuck to the main view screen. There is a series of numbers.

Coordinates, he realizes.

Good luck, it says. I hope you find what you’re looking for.

The Lucian prison camp is in disarray, Netan’s death reverberating through the galaxy, and it only takes a small force to overrun the last remaining feeble overlords.

They free the slaves, help them set up a mining operation owned and operated by the slaves, not the Tau’ri.

After a month, Cam finally has to face the truth.

Kate is not here.

“She’d kick my ass if she were here.”

“Who?”

“Kate,” he says. “She’d kick my ass and she’d be right.”

She’s dead. She died doing what she believed in, what they all believed in. And he’s not going to dishonor that by getting himself killed for a ghost.

It’s time to start to rebuild.

* * *

Daniel looks up as the door to the lab opens. He has no idea how she made it in here, how Omega seems to be as porous to her, but he’s long since stopped bothering trying to figure it out. It’s just part of who she is.

“Netan’s dead,” Daniel says like this isn’t something she’s already certainly aware of.

“Is he?” Vala asks, eyes on her fingernails like they are the most fascinating things in the universe. “Did he finally turn his back on the wrong lieutenant?”

Netan was notorious for not allowing any lieutenant with the strength to challenge him to survive. He never would have been so foolish.

“Not likely,” Daniel says. “After all, no one has stepped in to fill the hole. No one strong enough to hold it all together. The Alliance is in chaos.”

She isn’t giving anything away. “I suppose people will have to start making decisions for themselves then. Unless the Tau’ri plan on…” Her eyes lift to his face.

“No,” Daniel says. “We learned this lesson long ago.”

“And yet…your good intentions will always lead you into another catastrophe. It’s your race’s curse.”

Some days he thinks he would do anything to get a straight answer out of her. But the rest of the time he’s smart enough to get that he’s better off not knowing.

“You should know that we aren’t looking for you. That we won’t.”

She smiles, and Daniel realizes it doesn’t actually matter to her, one way or the other. They can come after her or not. It doesn’t mean they would ever catch her. He tries to imagine her as ever defenseless, maybe as a small child, but he thinks even then she must have taken care of herself.

She steps forward up to the glass, looking down to where Sam is working below, the archive of Asgard knowledge she bargained for finally completely open to her.

“It all makes a lot more sense now,” Vala says.

“What does?”

She slides him a look, her head canting towards Sam. “Jack.”

Daniel’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

She considers him for a moment, as if trying to decide if he’s being deliberately obtuse or not. “As long as I’ve known Jack, he’s been searching for something,” she says. “A fix it, a cure, a magic remedy.”

That doesn’t sound like Jack, but then again, the way he used to be is hazier and hazier in Daniel’s mind. His skepticism must show because she tilts her head to one side and gives him a half-smile that makes her look bizarrely vulnerable. That’s not a word he ever thought to associate with her.

“When you’re desperate enough, you’ll take hope anywhere you can.” Her eyes harden. “It’s the reason conmen exist in the first place.”

He knows for a fact that Vala is every type of chameleon, that she isn’t above using every weapon in her arsenal to get what she needs. But he also understands in that moment that the one thing she never does is play people for their hope.

It makes sense now, why she didn’t betray them, not when it mattered most. No one breathes pure, unfounded, struggling hope quite like a Tau’ri. What hadn’t they been prepared to do, just on the merest whisper of hope?

What hadn’t Jack been prepared to do?

“The tattoo,” Daniel says, something clicking into place.

Vala nods, looking back over at Sam, leaning on the railing.

“It looked Maori,” he says, trying to think back and remember the details.

Vala shrugs. “If you say so.”

Something is whispering at the back of his mind that he’s on the right track. “The Maori believe that the human body is sacred, having come from the place of the gods,” Daniel explains. “So sacred, in fact, that a pure body is dangerous to other people, can cause physical and spiritual harm.”

Vala gives no sign that she’s listening.

“The tattoos are about rendering the body less pure, diluting the sacredness, making it benign.”

Vala turns then, looking up at him. “A way of rendering oneself impotent,” she says, and Daniel gets the feeling she knows way more about this than she’s letting on.

“To keep himself from harming anyone around him,” he surmises. The placement on the back of his neck is doubtlessly anything but accidental.

Vala nods, that fragile half-smile on her face again. She looks back over at Sam, watching her for a while. “Has he always loved her?”

It actually takes a moment for Daniel to work out the pronouns, to figure out what Vala is asking him, but then it’s like a ton of bricks dropping on him. “God,” he breathes. He’s never let himself notice it before, but looking back, it’s so damn clear. “I think he has.”

Vala nods. “She won’t give up, will she?”

“No,” he says, and the faith is so damn easy to find for once. Or maybe he never really let himself give up on her. “She’ll figure it out. She always does.”

“You know, Daniel,” Vala says, fingers trailing down his arm. “You’re not half bad.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow at the sincerity in her voice, but her expression shifts so fast he thinks he must have imagined it, her eyes sparkling with that wicked gleam once more. “For a worn-out, cranky Tau’ri that is,” she amends.

He crosses his arms over his chest, giving her a wry glance. “That means a lot coming from a heartless thief.”

Her smile stretches even wider. “It’s almost enough to make me feel bad about the twenty credits I lifted off you the first time we met,” she says, flicking her hair over her shoulder and turning to leave the room. She pauses by the door, throwing a look back at him. “Almost.”

And then she’s gone.

Somehow, Daniel knows she’ll be back.

#sam/jack #annerbfic #sg-1 #down here among the wreckage #unfinished fic folder purge #i believe we used to call this #ficamnesty

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raendown · 7 years

Text

Chapter 69

@6miray6 put in the request for the latest chapter of the Soulmate Collection. Requests are opening up today, at long last. I’ll be taking about 20 in total. Today’s offering is MadaTobi and it’s a rather unique au, credit to Miray for suggesting it!

Under the cut or on AO3!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Soulmate au: The one where every sensor has a soulmate and they will die if their soulmate rejects them

As a toddler Tobirama hadn’t understood why the world was so bright, so overwhelming. He hadn’t understood why no one else seemed affected. By the time he was three he understood that he was a sensor and that this was both a blessing and a curse.

True sensors were rare and the Senju clan were blessed to have one born in their midst. Tobirama had the ability to feel chakra in nearly all living things, differentiate them from each other, and assess the strength of each signature. As he grew older he developed the even rarer ability to sense emotions from those chakra signatures if he concentrated hard enough. He was the strongest sensor ever to be born in Fire Country, able to feel a single individual four days travel away.

On the other hand, sensors were in a way cursed as well. Each true sensor was born with a soulmate, a perfect other half that existed to help them deal with the overwhelming sensations that constantly bombarded them. The touch of one’s soulmate would ground a sensor, help them deal with the overload of information and help them process it to even greater effect than they would be able to achieve on their own. Everything comes with a price, however, and the price of ‘true love’ was that in finding them, a sensor was forever bound. If rejected a sensor’s chakra system had a way of overloading, burning itself out until they passed away in overwhelming agony.

Tobirama had hoped to never find his soulmate. He had gotten very used to the world being too bright around him, used to the headaches and the tension in his shoulders from not being able to stop receiving so much information. He thought it was better just to go on like that rather than surrender his fate in to the hands of someone who may not even want him.

He was lucky to survive twenty-one years without finding out that his soulmate had been in front of him the entire time. Madara had never viewed him as more than Hashirama’s younger brother, the nuisance who faced Izuna on the battlefield whenever their two clans clashed. Tobirama, in return, saw Madara as nothing more than the one who had stolen away his brother’s time and affection only to give back nothing by pain. In short, they didn’t have very high regard for each other. Not even when Madara finally agreed to peace and the building of their dream village did either give any special thought to the other.

It wasn’t until the Uchiha clan finally migrated to Konoha that things changed. The Senju had been living there for quite some time already as their head of clan used his unique jutsu to create homes, offices, playscapes, a school, a hospital, everything imaginable that a village could possibly need. Day by day he grew his dreams from seed to reality. Tobirama watched it happen with a smile on his face which faded only when Madara stood across from him, Hashirama between them with wide, pleading eyes.

“We’re at peace,” his brother insisted. “The two of you need to learn to get along. Madara, Izuna has agreed to be polite with Tobirama, why can’t you do the same?”

“All the times he attempted to take my brother’s life are not so easily forgotten,” Madara huffed, arms crossed. “Izuna has always been more forgiving than I.”

“If you are truly my friend, Madara, you will try to get along with him. For my sake. At the very least you two can pretend to make peace to set an example for others!” Hashirama turned the full dose of his famous puppy eyes on his old friend and Madara gave him a disgusted look. Then he capitulated because even big bad Uchiha’s could not stand against prolonged exposure to Hashirama’s puppy eyes.

The younger Senju brother eyed the hand that was reluctantly held out towards him for a moment, almost considering not taking it. There wouldn’t be many that would blame him for being suspicious of ulterior motives. It wasn’t worth the dramatics of a refusal though so he reached out his own hand and clasped Madara’s.

And the world went quiet.

Tobirama’s eyes went wide and unfocused, breathless at the sudden peace within him. He felt weightless, calm. His mind felt so blissfully clear and sharp that he thought he would have been able to solve any problem handed to him right in that moment.

It took a couple full minutes for him to realize that he had simply been standing there swaying on the spot, his hand crushingly tight around Madara’s. The Uchiha was staring at him with trepidation while his brother called his name, his voice heavy with concern. By the look in Madara’s eye he knew that something had just happened between them, though he didn’t seem to know exactly what. As soon as it registered in Tobirama’s brain what it was, he was filled with dread.

So this is how I die, he thought.

“Brother? What’s wrong?” Hashirama hovered near him, hands out and fluttering as if he wanted to help but wasn’t sure how to.

“Everything went…quiet,” Tobirama said distantly. “I can see. Feel. It’s all…very sharp.” He wasn’t sure he had better words for it at the moment. His brother broke out in to a massive grin that Tobirama wasn’t sure the situation warranted.

“That means Madara is your soulmate! You’ve found your match, brother! That’s incredible!”

Madara didn’t seem to think so. In fact, he looked rather repulsed. He snatched his hand back with obvious intent and Tobirama grunted, doubling over in pain.

“Tobirama!” His brother reached out to steady him while he grit his teeth together. If before he had lived in discomfort then what he felt now was agony. It felt like microscopic knives tearing him open from the inside out.

“I’m fine, shut up,” he gasped out. The last thing he wanted was to look weak, no matter that it was the truth at the moment. Madara watched him but did nothing. Hashirama helped him stand straight again, wincing when he momentarily scrunched his pain at another wave of pain.

“You’re not fine,” his brother refuted him. “You’re…oh. Madara, how could you!”

“How could I what? I’ve done nothing.”

“You’ll kill him!”

Tobirama wanted to tell them both to shut up. If this is what was how he was going to die then he wanted to do so in peace. He could barely keep his eyes open but he managed to see the way Madara was looking at him, like his death wasn’t necessarily considered a bad thing. Then the Uchiha looked over at Hashirama to see how horrified he was, the terror in his face at the prospect of watching his only remaining brother die in his arms.

Madara lived to protect his own little brother, even Tobirama knew that. Perhaps it was seeing himself in Hashirama’s shoes that moved him to mercy or pity or whatever it might have been which inspired him to relent. He made sure to show his reluctance, however, by rolling his eyes and sighing.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, stepping forward to take hold of Tobirama’s wrist.

The pain didn’t exactly go away but it lessoned to the point that he was capable of hiding it. Tobirama smoothed his face and forced his shoulders to lower until he appeared calm and relaxed. He and the older man held each other’s eyes and Tobirama knew without a doubt that Madara had only saved his life for the sake of his brother.

It wasn’t a true acceptance but it wasn’t a true rejection either. Madara accepted that they were soulmates but did not accept him as a partner and it left Tobirama in a strange state of limbo he’d never heard of before. He did not die but he lived in constant pain, even worse than before he had discovered who his supposed ‘perfect other half’ was. He made sure no one knew, not even Hashirama. He presented himself to the world as calmly as he ever had. After all, he had plenty of years of practice holding in the pain.

He existed in this half state for several years, the agony only lessening on the rare occasions Madara deigned to sit close enough that their skin brushed. He was able to mitigate it somewhat by carving chakra suppression seals in to a pair of iron bands that he wore around his wrists. It didn’t stop the pain and he could wear them nowhere but inside the village, but it blocked the copious information from the chakra networks around him and made it easier to bear.

There was one thing about his situation, however, that nothing could make easier to bear. The thing about finding one’s perfect other half was that the knowledge of this was never far from one’s mind. Tobirama’s thoughts were constantly circling back to the possibilities, the what if’s. He paid extra attention to Madara now, almost without meaning to, and he hated that he began to notice things. He hated noticing the pleasing shape of Madara’s eyes, the caring manner in which he spoke of his sibling, the proud way he fought against slander towards his clan. Tobirama hated himself for running his eyes down the other’s long legs or remembering how it had felt to hold his hand.

Most of all, Tobirama hated himself for falling in love. It was all too obvious that Madara did not truly want him and never would, that he had been granted only a slower death instead of a quick one. Chronic pain had a way of wearing on a body and Tobirama was certain that there had never been a pain like his own. If he were anyone else he would have ceased to function.

On the fourth anniversary of Hashirama being named Hokage, Tobirama slipped away from the celebrations and in to the public gardens. It was quiet here, peaceful, yet not quiet enough. Tobirama slid one of his carved arm bands out from the pocket of his yukata, sliding it on to his wrist and closing his eyes as the brilliant star of the gathered villagers sipped away from him. He sighed in relief and slumped on to a nearby bench. He would have gone home hours ago if it weren’t for his brother.

Hashirama had been trying to get him to ‘lighten up’ the entire evening, a difficult task with Madara trailing along at the man’s other side, smug expression firmly settled on his features. Tobirama did his best to avoid his soulmate when possible. Those two were making that impossible to do tonight.

With his senses blocked out he could feel no one approaching. He did not feel the two signatures approaching from the east. And he did not feel the smaller one approaching from the north. He was entirely surprised to open his eyes and find the pale lavender of a Hyuga’s staring up at him from only inches away.

He stiffened, leaning away with a frown to take in the sight of the young girl before him. She wore a brown yukata with a splash of pretty pink flowers across the sleeves. Her long hair was tied back loosely and she was looking back at him with slight confusion.

“You didn’t feel me coming, Senju-sama?” she asked. He lifted his wrist.

“Chakra suppression seals,” he said shortly. “I feel nothing.”

“Oh.” The look in the girl’s eyes was wistful, slightly jealous. “I wish I could feel nothing. I-I wanted to ask you...some advice, Senju-sama.”

He tilted his head. “You’re a sensor,” he surmised. She nodded.

“I am. And the whole village knows you’re a sensor too. Can you…can you help me?”

Without answering right away, Tobirama reached in to his pocket and pulled out the twin to the cuff he wore on his wrist. The girl’s eyes latched on to it greedily and she nearly cried when he slid it on to her wrist.

He watched with a great deal of understanding as she closed her eyes, tension slowly draining out of her as her face when slack with the bliss of silence. He allowed her as long as she needed to recover, to open her eyes and meet his again with a slightly sheepish expression. Then he waved away her profuse thanks.

“Keep it. I can make another. Is that the help you wished for?”

“Actually, I had hoped Senju-sama might provide me with advice?” She looked at him hopefully and Tobirama lifted an eyebrow.

“My advice to you as a sensor would be not to go looking for your soulmate,” he said. She stared and he sighed softly. “Perhaps you would be luckier than I; perhaps your soulmate will want you. But it’s a calculated risk. Are you willing to place your life in to the hands of another? I was not. And I was right to try not to.”

“You mean-?” Dainty little hands flew up in front of a dainty little mouth. “Are you dying Senju-sama!?”

Tobirama shrugged. “My situation is rather unique and it will take me quite a lot longer than it should, but yes. I will die.”

“Does it hurt?” She sounded terrified but Tobirama believed in telling children the truth. He nodded and she was silent for a long while before asking very quietly, “Can I see?”

“See?” How does one see pain, he wondered. Then he understood when she blinked her large, pale eyes. “Ah. We would need to remove these again in order to do that,” he said, tapping at the bracelet he wore.

“Right!” She slipped hers off right away, swaying as information rushed in and flooded her senses again. Tobirama steadied her even as he slipped his own off. It could be quite a disorienting experience the first few times and it never stopped feeling unpleasant. He himself didn’t bother to concentrate on sorting any of the input. There were too many signatures all gathered in one place for him to make out individuals from the harsh bright blur.

When she had collected herself, he sat still as veins bulged out along her temple. She blinked, obviously not very skilled at using her clan’s dōjutsu yet, then gasped as he apparently came in to focus.

“So much pain…Senju-sama I’ve never seen anything like it. I…I don’t want to feel like that. I’m scared!” Her dōjutsu faded as tears gathered and Tobirama slid both of their bracelets back on before reaching out to brush at her hair without thinking. Many might call him cold-hearted but if there one thing he couldn’t abide it was a crying child.

“Hush, you won’t feel this,” he assured her. “As I said, my situation is rather unique. I promise you will not live with this pain. It’s alright.” He dabbed at her eyes with the corners of his sleeves, unprepared for her next words.

“Do you love them?”

“I – what?” He froze, arms extended and palms framing her tiny face.

“Your soulmate. If you’re dying then that means they rejected you. Do you love them?”

Tobirama’s arms fell back in to his lap and he sat there, stunned. No one had ever asked him that before. In four years no one had ever thought to ask him how he felt about the man who had turned him away – no one but a child who feared the same fate.

“I do,” he admitted in an uneven voice. “God help me but I do.”

The girl gave him a sympathetic look, looking a little startled at how shaken he was. For a moment all Tobirama could do was stare back at her helplessly. He did love Madara. And it hurt. It hurt almost as much as the pain that coursed through his veins every moment of every day. And it was just as likely to go on hurting until the day he bowed under the pressure and laid down to his final rest.

“Senju-sama? Are you okay?” His tiny companion poked at his knee, concerned. He shook his head wordlessly.

“Keep the bracelet, little one,” he mumbled. “And good luck.”

With that, he rose and hurried away.

He did not stay long enough to see his companion walk around a wall of tall bushes and nearly run in to the Hokage and his best friend, both standing frozen in place with their jaws hanging somewhere around their knees.

After the headache inducing festival and the whirlwind of emotions kicked up by his encounter with that little girl, Tobirama holed himself up at home for the next few days. He wore his bracelet and shut out the world, locking himself in his lab where he could neither feel nor hear if anyone came knocking. He didn’t really get much done, he never did these days, but puttering away at his experiments was one of the few comforts he had.

On the fifth day he fell asleep at his workbench, face pressed in to a book about the human nervous system. He woke to excruciating pain running down his spine and, thinking himself alone, cried out when he tried to sit up.

“Shit, fuck!” His forehead slammed back down on to the work surface while his hands clenched uselessly where they were wrapped around his head. A pained whine escaped him only for his ears to redden a moment later when he heard someone speak from across the room.

“Tobirama!” That was definitely Hashirama’s voice. “Are you okay?” Footsteps hurried over to him and Tobirama drew in a long breath through his nose, forcing himself under control and slowly sitting up as if his spine weren’t currently shattering itself underneath the skin.

“I’m fine,” he said, grinding out the words. “What are you doing here?”

“We wanted to talk to you but you haven’t been answering your door so I got worried.” Hashirama wring his hands together. “I…uh…I already replaced your door, I promise! You were asleep for a long time.”

Tobirama blinked sluggishly at his brother. “You broke my door?” he asked. Then, “Wait, who is ‘we’?”

Hashirama waved vaguely across the room and he very carefully turned around to see Madara looking rather uncomfortable, making himself as small as possible in a chair across the room and staring determinedly at the floor. He looked back to his brother and gave him a flat stare.

“The village had better be burning down around your ears because if you’ve broken in to my home toting him along behind you for something that isn’t life threatening then I swear, brother or no brother, I will feed you your own teeth. Individually.”

Hashirama stared at him in flabbergasted horror but Tobirama was more interested in the considering look he could see the other man wearing out of the corner of his eye. Strange. He set that aside in his mind and went back to glaring at his only remaining sibling, trying to impress upon him the doom that was about to be unleashed if this intrusion wasn’t for something important.

After a minute Hashirama shook himself and put his hands on his hips, affecting a stern look.

“Life threatening? It is life threatening! It’s threatening your life!” The older man leaned down to get in his face but Tobirama carefully wheeled his chair backwards to get away.

“What are you going on about?” he snapped. “I’m sleeping in my own laboratory. There’s nothing threatening my life right now.”

“You told that little girl you were dying!”

“What!?” Tobirama’s eyes widened. “Were you…you were there. You were listening. You were eavesdropping on my conversation.” He bit off every fragmented sentence like he hated the taste of it – and he did. He hated that his privacy had been violated in such a manner. Hashirama looked a little guilty but nodded.

“We didn’t really mean to. I was looking for you and we found you when that girl startled you. I thought it was really strange that you hadn’t sensed her coming. I thought you would have sensed us coming. And then…”

Tobirama could feel himself shaking, so many repressed emotions threatening to come spilling over the edges. “And then you stood there, hiding from sight, and listened to a private conversation that you were not intended to hear.” It was a hard struggle to keep a lid on himself. He rose from his chair, forcing his spine to straighten to his full height and holding the worktable beside him with a white-knuckled grip. “Get out, both of you. Now.”

“Tobirama! You’re dying!”

“And?” he said, watching the older man’s jaw snap shit in bewilderment at his answer. “What of it? It cannot be changed and therefore is pointless to talk about. I told you to get out, why are you still here?”

“I can’t just sit back and watch you die!”

“Well you’ll have to!” he burst at last. “There is nothing you can do! Nothing I can do! Without a soulmate who accepts them a sensor will die, that is a fact of life! Be grateful you had this much extra time! Now GET OUT!”

He let go of the workbench to reach for something – anything – to throw at his sibling, hoping to chase him away with violence. His body chose that moment to send him a fresh wave of pain, more intense than he had ever felt before. With a startled cry his knees buckled underneath him and he tumbled to the ground, gasping for air. Hashirama fell next to him and Tobirama hung his head in shame, hands fisting on the floor.

“Make him go,” he pleaded quietly. Not quietly enough.

“You want me gone,” Madara’s voice said from much too close. He cracked open his eyes to see the other man’s feet only a meter away. “Tell me something. Are you truly in love with me?”

There was something about the way he spoke that Tobirama could not put his finger on, distracted as he was. He didn’t sound as arrogant or as mocking as he usually would have. Not that Tobirama had the energy for a verbal spar today. All he had in him was a sigh.

“Yes,” he said shortly. That one word felt like surrendering himself to the devil, signing over his soul and giving the Shinigami permission to do as he wanted. Madara knelt down in his peripheral vision, murmuring something to Hashirama that he didn’t bother to listen to.

“Then you are just as stupid as I am.”

A large hand reached out in front of Tobirama’s face and down to lay itself over his balled fist. The sensation that followed afterward was vaguely familiar: he had only experienced it once before in his entire life.

The world went perfectly quiet and the tempest inside his body dissipated to nothing in an instant. Without the pain that had been holding him down for the past four years he felt weightless. A peace the likes of which he had never known settled down around him and, dazed, he began to fall forward. Two sets of arms caught him but one set easily relinquished their hold as the other pulled him back against a solid chest.

Tobirama stared in to the middle distance and blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend the lack of pain. He felt as if something were missing until he felt a tug on his wrist and the chakra suppression band was pulled off of him. Then suddenly the world existed in perfect clarity. He could feel…everything. In perfect, precise detail. Which meant he could feel the chakra signature of the one who held him and how self-consciously hesitant it was.

He looked up in to Madara’s unreadable face with no idea of what to say, at first.

“You hated me,” he said softly. Madara scoffed.

“Even I’m allowed to change my mind on occasion,” he said. Then he shifted awkwardly. “I may not be in love but I find you…interesting. You could have used your pain to cause me guilt. You could have used it to garner sympathy. You could lashed out in anger. You could even have given up and hurried your death to escape to the seemingly inevitable end. You did none of these things. What you did do was show kindness to a child you owed nothing and suffered in silence rather than cause trouble for others.” Madara looked away. “I admire the strength it took to do what you have been doing.” It looked like it cost him a little of his pride to say it and Tobirama wanted to smirk.

He would have, too, if he could remember how to make any expression but an awed one. It was an entirely unique experience to feel overwhelmed by nothing but his own emotions and he had no idea how to deal with it. So he simply closed his eyes and breathed, soft inhales in and out. Madara’s scent filled his nostrils and his chakra enveloped Tobirama like a cloak, soothing and strangely calm. The older man might not be in love with him but he accepted him and, for now, that was more than enough.

“Tobirama?” he heard his brother call in a worried voice. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes I’m fine.”

And for the first time in his life he meant it. He felt good.

He opened his eyes again and looked up at Madara once more. The future felt pretty good too.

#soulmate collection #rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction #narut shippuden

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ecotone99 · 4 years

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[SF] Interrogation

No one knew the woman that accompanied Finn Dralor through the dimly lit corridors of the trader’s deck, but everyone knew enough about Dralor to realize that whatever business she was conducting with him, it was sure to be bad.

Dralor was well known to be a slaver, smuggler, pimp ...and worse. If this were anywhere but the pirate-run Salvation Station, he’d have a dozen or more Inter-Sol bounty hunters already taking aim on him. His rakish good looks and unusually tall frame, in addition to his penchant for rich, colorful clothing, made him quite recognizable for those looking to cash in on the sizable reward offered for his capture. Fortunately for him, it was Salvation, the only space station in the entire solar system where the laws of the Inter-Solar Union didn’t hold sway. Those who came here knew that while they might look and listen, they had better keep their mouths firmly shut and mind to their own affairs.

The woman herself was anything but attractive. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, but her scowling face and the fierce glances she cast about made her seem older than her years. One cheek was badly scarred, perhaps from a serious burn, and her left arm, from the elbow down, was a cybernetic replacement, steel and plexicon grafted to living flesh. Her dark hair was cropped short and her clothing, in contrast to Dralor’s rich finery, was made of a course black fabric, sleeveless and unadorned.

Usually, no one would have taken notice of her, save for one glaring detail; she wore no weapon. On Salvation, a lawless bastion of murderers and thieves, everyone was expected to provide their own protection. The fact that the woman in Dralor’s company didn’t feel the need to carry any form of protection led to one of only two possible assumptions. Either she believed that Finn Dralor would keep her safe (which would make her a fool) or, there was much more to this young woman than her appearance suggested.

All eyes watched as the pair made their way to Garl Varo’s shop, The Wicked Way. A run-down, rusted corner of the deck where illicit drugs, synth-whores, and other forms of debased entertainment could be easily purchased. As the sliding steel door of the store closed behind them, the onlookers turned back to their own business, secure in the knowledge that whatever happened inside Varo’s store, the less they knew about it, the better.

Inside, the shop was a cacophony of lights, music, and perversion. The walls were covered with monitrons displaying images of nude synthetic prostitutes, both male and female, dancing and offering their customizable bodies to those that had the currency to buy them. One simply had to select the features and attributes they desired from the touch menu on the screen, pay the required fee, and the synth-whore would be ready and willing in seconds in one of several rooms below the shop.

Directly across from the entrance sat several counters, each with a selection of holographic images showing various wares the store had to offer. Pharmaceuticals, pornographic holovids, and the latest in recreational bio-mods were on sale. The dancing colors coming from the multitude of strobing light emitters, coupled with the sound of Martian jazz, was enough to make a customer brain-dead within minutes from sensory overload, which was probably the intent. The worst salesman in the galaxy could make easy money off a zombie.

At the back of the building sitting on a hover chair was the proprietor, Garl Varo himself. A bloated, greasy lump of pale, pasty flesh, Garl was not someone most people enjoyed being around. A stinking miasma hung in the air around him at all times, a result of his addiction to muru, an extract from the root of the Venusian Orchid that put the user into a state of relaxed euphoria. His bald head and pig-like face were covered in wart-like growths, a side effect of the drug, and his wide mouth resembled nothing so much as two slabs of raw liver, gone bad. His hairless torso was bare, and sweat ran down in rivulets over his sickly-looking skin, even though the room was quite cool. He was the picture of over-indulgence and gluttony. However, anyone who drew their conclusions about Garl from his appearance alone would soon be dismayed by any business dealings they might have with him. His mind was as sharp as a razor, and his greed knew no bounds. Those two traits, along with the selection of wares he chose to sell, made him one of the most ruthless and under-handed traders on the station.

He glanced up as the two entered the shop and his face broke into a wide, stained-tooth grin. Removing his muru pipe from his lips, he beckoned to them.

“Finn, my boy!” He exclaimed throwing his gelatinous arms wide in greeting, “What brings the dirtiest scoundrel in the nine quadrants to my humble little corner of space?” Finn grinned back at the fat blob as he strolled towards him. “Oh, you know,” He said with a casual wave of his hand, “business as usual.” “Oh?” Garl replied, his eyebrows arching. “Well, let’s see if I can help you out then, alright?”

Suddenly, Garl’s hover chair spun around one hundred eighty degrees. From the back a series of panels dropped open and half a dozen tubes extended out. Finn dove to one side as the tubes began discharging ion rounds, all of them aimed squarely for the young woman still standing near the front of the room. The entire store turned into a blaze of screaming energy eruptions, the charges detonating on impact and incinerating anything they came in contact with. After a few seconds, the firing stopped and the chair spun back around.

Garl looked around at the damage to his store. The blackened monitrons filled the air with the stench of burnt ozone, and the music that had been playing was reduced to a quiet garble. The shelves with the built in holographic projectors fizzed and sparked, while puddles of melted plexicon congealed and solidified on the floor. Of the woman, there was no sign. “Well, it looks like you owe me quite a bit of money, Finn,” He said while still surveying the destruction, “I’d say about ten thousand cred’s worth.” He finished smugly. He drew deeply from his pipe as he catalogued everything that would need to be replaced.

“Who was that slut, anyway?” He asked, finally turning to look at Finn, still lying on the floor. “She wasn’t much of a looker, if ya…” Garl’s voice trailed off as he looked at the man on the floor.

Finn Dralor wasn’t paying attention to Garl. His eyes were turned upward, with a look in them that Garl didn’t like at all. Just as he turned to see what had Finn’s attention, he felt a sudden burst of pain as the woman, whom moments before he had assumed vaporized, leaped down from the ceiling she had been clinging to and caught him in the side of his bulbous, warty head with a hard kick that sent him flying from the hover chair and crashing down to the floor next to Finn.

He barely had time to realize he might be in real trouble before a cybernetic hand closed on his throat and yanked him to an almost standing position. Trying to focus his vision, he looked into the eyes of the woman who now held his immense weight up with what appeared to be very little effort on her part.

“That was a really cute trick.” She said calmly, drawing her face closer to his. “Tell me, was it the phrase ‘business as usual’ or the wave of the hand that signaled you?” She asked. “Look, miss, I …” Garl began.

The steel grasp around his throat closed tighter, restricting the flow of oxygen. She held him like that for a few moments, emotionlessly watching him to struggle to breathe. He was almost to the point of passing out when she finally loosened her hold enough for air to pass through to his lungs. His vision fading in and out, Garl heard the woman speak again.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, beyond the answers to my questions.” She stated flatly. “Do you understand?” Garl nodded weakly, his jowls quivering.

Almost contemptuously, the woman tossed him back to the floor to once again lie next to Dralor, who hadn’t moved during their brief conversation. Looking down on both of them, the woman asked, “You deal in the drug, Irellion-9?” It was more of a statement than a question.

Propping himself up on one elbow and massaging his throat, Garl nodded. “It’s an inhibitor class stimulant, used mostly by rift pilots traveling beyond the Plutonian quadrant.” He responded. “It alleviates the symptoms of void sickness while allowing the pilots to stay conscious for months at a time.”

The woman nodded, then asked, “Do you know of anyone other than a freighter pilot who has purchased it from you in the last six months?” Garl glanced over at Finn, his eyes questioning. Finn slowly nodded his head, not saying a word.

The woman kneeled down in front of Garl, her fierce eyes boring into his. “I’m not given to asking questions a second time, Garl.” She intoned.

Garl swallowed hard, his whole body now soaked in a cold sweat. “This is Salvation, miss.“ He explained, “Someone who goes around talking too much about other people’s business don’t last very long here.”

“Oh, is that so?” The woman asked.

Reaching down with the prosthetic appendage, the woman gripped a handful of the fat man’s belly and clenched her fist. Garl began to scream, but the sound was cut short by the woman’s other hand forcing its way into his mouth, and down his throat.

“I know ways to make you suffer for days without dying, Garl.” The woman calmly assured him.

Suddenly a burning, ripping pain exploded in Garl’s chest, crawling through his abdomen and worming through his extremities. The pain grew and expanded until his entire body felt as if it were imploding in on itself. Squirming on the floor, he began wishing he would die, that he would give in to the pain and horror and simply cease to be. It felt like hours passed, all the while Garl could do nothing but suffer and hope for oblivion.

Then, when he was beginning to feel what may have been the first stirrings of death, the pain ceased, and the hand was drawn out of his mouth. Gasping and vomiting, he rolled to one side, fear and dread washing over him. To hell with the code of Salvation, he thought. He had never felt such pain! He would tell this woman whatever she wanted to hear, so long as it would get her out of his shop.

“Now, I hope we have a new understanding of one another, Garl. You’re going to tell me what I want to know, or I’ll begin to get creative. Understand?” The woman said, in that eerie calm voice.

Rolling back over to face her, Garl nodded his head vigorously in answer.

After a moment or two of silence, Garl remembered that she was awaiting an answer to her earlier question. As the woman’s eyebrow raised, a possible sign of impatience, Garl sputtered forth a response.

“There was a woman that came here about four or five weeks ago.” He said, “She purchased a large quantity of I-9.”

“How much is a ‘large quantity’?” The woman asked.

“Three liters.” Garl replied quickly. “She cleared out my entire stock.”

“How do you know she wasn’t a pilot?” The woman asked intently.

“I’ve been in business a long time, miss, and I know the look of a long trek pilot.” He assured her. “They get a real spacy and distant look in their eyes.” He said, partly smiling, as if it were an inside joke between them.

When the woman didn’t smile in return, he hastily continued, “Oh, and she wasn’t armed, just like you.” He added. “Nobody comes to Salvation unarmed.” He looked nervously at her for a moment. “Well, at least, not usually.”

“Describe her.” The woman ordered. “What did she look like?”

Garl licked his quivering lips. He tried to call up the image of the woman in his mind, but he couldn’t remember what she looked like, and that bothered him. He had an unusually good memory. Years of being in the business of selling to people who might come back with buyer’s remorse had sharpened his powers of observation considerably. For him to not be able to remember a customer, especially one as unique as the one in question …it just didn’t add up. After a few moments, he saw the woman’s eyebrow rise again.

“I’m sorry, miss!” He wailed, terrified at what new torment might be forthcoming. “I can’t remember what she looked like!” He began to blubber, “I know it was a woman, but I can’t remember anything about her beyond that.”

The woman seemed to ponder this for a moment, her eyes studying his for any sign of deception. Then she asked, “Do you know where she went, after making her purchase?” Garl was on the verge of telling the woman ‘No’ out of force of habit, when he remembered the pain from only moments ago. It went against the grain to tell someone about someone else’s affairs, but this was no ordinary someone. He had no doubts this woman was being nothing less than truthful when she said she could put him through the most excruciating torture for days before allowing him the luxury of dying. He also had no doubts she would follow through on her word without hesitation if he gave her an unfavorable response.

“Yeah,” He nodded, “Word got back to me that she made straight for the docking ports.” He said. “She got on a transport bound for Xanadu.”

Xanadu was the largest colony on the moon Titan, orbiting Saturn. It would only take a few hours to get there by ship.

“You’re sure it was Xanadu?” The woman pressed him. “Absolutely, miss.” Garl answered. The woman stood up slowly and looked over at Finn Dralor. “We’ll be leaving now.” She said.

Suddenly, the fabric of reality seemed to shift in front of Garl Varo’s eyes. One moment he was lying on the floor of his ruined shop, looking up at the woman who had caused him so much pain and misery. The next, he was seated in his hover chair, looking across the unmarred shop at the woman and Finn Dralor standing just inside the door. He stared in dumbfounded amazement at the displays and monitrons, all undamaged and just as they were before the two had entered his store.

Finally his gaze settled back on the woman, who was looking at him with a hint of veiled amusement. Dralor was standing at her side, a somewhat regretful look on his face. Then, it suddenly came clear. “Bloody shite,” He swore. “You’re a Dah’shia!” The Dah’shia was a sect of assassins known throughout the entire solar system as powerful psionicists, beings able to manipulate the thoughts of others with their minds. Many considered them to be a legend or myth, due to the rarity of survived encounters. It was said a Dah’shia assassin could turn a person’s own mind into a weapon against them. Based upon his recent experience, Garl could personally vouch for it.

“You’ve been very helpful, Garl.” The woman told him in a matter-of-fact manner. “But I’m afraid I can’t leave you alive to tell others about this meeting.”

“Wait …please …I won’t …” Garl stammered, before his consciousness abruptly shut off forever.

Turning to her companion, who was still staring at the twitching corpse floating in the hover chair, the woman spoke. “We will return to your ship now.” She said. “I want to depart for Xanadu as soon as possible.” With that, she moved towards the door.

Finn turned to leave, following the woman, and then glanced back at the body of Garl Varo. They had only stepped inside the store for a few moments, and though Finn had no way of knowing what had passed between the mind-assassin and the smut-peddler, he knew it had to have been horrifying. Exiting the shop, he and the woman, whose name he didn’t even know, made their way back to his ship.

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the-things-i-find-interesting · 4 years

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Silent Hell: Why SH2 Reigns Over All The Others In The Franchise

Background: A thoughtpiece on one of my most fave videogames.

Warning: There are major spoilers for Silent Hill II. You have been warned.

It was the winter of 2012. I was a precocious, ostracized sixth grader, painfully aware of what it meant to be an outcast. As a result, I threw myself into various forms of escapism. One of them was watching gameplay walkthroughs and video game cutscene videos on YouTube as if they were lengthy animated films. Consequently I became knowledgeable about various retro games and could connect them to more modern ones in a developed timeline. It was also at this point in my life where I discovered the existence of Silent Hill II. A random thumbnail off to the right hand side of the screen piqued my interest. I moved my mouse cursor over to it. Click.

The game begins with protagonist James Sunderland, poured over a sink, staring intensely at himself in a mirror and running his fingers in front of his face in self-reflection. The unsaturated colour scheme and the lighting cause his eyes to look like shadowy pits, and the eerie soundtrack in the background immediately sets the severe and sombre mood of the game. He reveals that he has returned to his honeymoon spot of Silent Hill in search of his deceased wife Mary, who had sent him a note asking him to come to the foggy town where she’d be waiting for him “in their special place.” Perplexed that someone dead for three years from a terminal illness would send him such a fervent note, or even any note at all, Sunderland comes to Silent Hill against all common sense and logic.

This all occurs within the first five minutes of gameplay and already I could feel a morbid fascination swirling within me, coupled with tensed dread. When the dead contacts the living, it usually is an indicator that there is unfinished business to attend to. What was the underlying motivation for Sunderland coming to the town? What answers, or validation, was he really looking for? The only thing I knew about Silent Hill at that point was that it was a horror game with zombies. What I didn’t anticipate was that horror was more than just about the visuals. I was in for a psychological hell of a thrill ride.

Granted, Sunderland finds Silent Hill to be filled with zombies, but he also finds various side characters with their own horrific backstories. Angela Orosco is the first, found in a cemetery. In one scene Orosco lies on her side on a floor, languidly staring at a knife she holds in front of her in contemplation before Sunderland can convince her to stop and she hands the weapon over to him. But in a future cutscene she stands in front of a burning staircase, sardonically asking James if she’d care for her and be able to take the pains of her abusive past away from her. His silence causes her to sneer, “I thought so.’ She begins to ascend the staircase, and an exchange of words ensues between them before she jumps into the inferno:

“It’s hot as hell in here.” “You see it too? For me, it’s always like this.”

It was at this moment when I realized that the greatest antagonist in our lives is not necessarily those who antagonize us, but our own minds when they torment our own wellbeing. When our own brains turn against us, there is no escape. It’s like being trapped in personal Hell.

Eddie Dombrowski is the second side character who Sunderland meets in a dingy, crippled, abandoned school building. Though not ugly, Dombrowski’s self esteem is completely shot, his self-perception low due to both being overweight along with the mockery he’d received from his peers because of his mass. When an exasperated Sunderland yells, “There are monsters in this town! How can you just sit there and eat pizza?!” Dombrowski dismisses him, saying he won’t join Sunderland because he’ll just slow him down. Later, when Dombrowski acknowledges the fact that he came to Silent Hill because he murdered his life-long bully, he tells Sunderland, “It doesn’t matter if you’re smart, dumb, ugly, pretty. It’s all the same once yer dead. And a corpse can’t laugh. From now on, if anyone makes fun of me, I’ll kill ‘em,” he pointed the revolver in his hand to his head. “Just like that.”

I shuddered. This was around the time of the Sandy Hook school shooting. It occurred to me that the fact that death was truly the only democratic thing to exist could be used inappropriately for school shooters provoked by bullying as justification for their desire for revenge. It was a warped sense of justice, a desperate route for consolation of the soul. For a second I tried to imagine how I would feel if every bully who came into my life would suddenly die. I concluded that I believe in the concept of karma, and death like that would be karmic overload to the point of injustice.

Maria is another character who Sunderland meets in the town, startling him because she looks identical to Mary, and is later shown to even possess her memories. However, her inability to die after being killed in front of James twice is an indicator that she is some sort of supernatural being. There is a scene in which they sit on either side of a jail cell, and it is vague as to who is the one being trapped. Through the bars Maria rests her hands on either side of Sunderland’s cheeks and says, “It doesn’t matter who I am. I’m here for you, James. See? I’m real.”

Though the plots of every Silent Hill game don’t always tailgate one another, every protagonist has to navigate horrific manifestations of the town or places they know in an “Otherworld.” This Otherworld and all the horrors within it are not random, but rather reflections of the ails of the protagonist. For James, his wife’s illness took a toll on their marriage, to the point where one day he kissed her on the forehead before smothering her to death with a pillow. Depending on the actions of the gameplayer, his justification for killing Mary range from not wanting to see her suffer any longer to “wanting his life back.”

Yet even though he had forgotten he’d killed Mary when he came to Silent Hill, the guilt still lingered on him subconsciously. And subconsciously, he desires punishment, which is represented by Maria’s existence persistently reminding him of his crippling marriage, but also of Pyramid Head’s – a zombified character with a man’s body, a gigantic anvil for a head, and a bloody stained white apron clothing an otherwise bare muscled body—role in the plot. It is only after Sunderland remembers killing his wife that he is able to declare redemption when he sees two Pyramid Heads about to kill him. “It’s time to end this,” Sunderland says. The Pyramid Heads impale one another with their immense swords.

What makes Silent Hill terrifying is not the zombie horror. It is of the complexity and intrapersonal and interpersonal conflicts of its characters, and of how these characters are able to handle these conflicts when they’re placed in a setting where there is nowhere to run or hide forever. (I only discuss Silent Hill II because I believe it executes this idea best as all of its characters are developed such that a player is able to have an omni-perspective despite their own biases towards the decisions of the characters.) And even when they make it out alive, their conflicts may be resolved, but it doesn’t necessarily cure or improve any situation. Though fantastical, this lesson from the franchise is what makes reality more terrifying than when this fact is not consciously realized. And that is why Silent Hill II is both a masterpiece, but also a video game that fucked me over (and will continue to fuck me over) for the rest of my existence.

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artsoccupychi · 6 years

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Alkaline Water for Weight Loss

Did you know that there’s a Cookie Diet? Yes, unfortunately, there is, and it’s based on the premise that if you exchange some of your meals for low-fat cookies, you’ll lose weight.

Sounds about as sensible as the latest Ketogenic Diet fad, promoting over-eating fats, or the once-popular Grapefruit and Cabbage Soup diets.

Look up “diets” in Wikipedia, and you’ll find over 90 different diets listed with links to every single one.

And, yet, 7 out of 10 Americans are overweight or obese.1

Though we’re told that people who lose weight rapidly going on diets are the ones that tend to put the weight back on, statistics and studies suggest otherwise. The Lancet reported on a study that found that after 144 weeks, people who lost weight gradually put it back on at the same rate as people who lost weight rapidly.2

When researchers at UCLA analyzed 31 long-term diet studies, they found that a majority of participants regained all the weight, plus more.

Their conclusion? According to Traci Mann, UCLA Associate Professor of Psychology, “Most of them would have been better off not going on the diet at all. Their weight would be pretty much the same, and their bodies would not suffer the wear and tear from losing weight and gaining it all back.”3

This yo-yo dieting has been linked to cardiovascular disease, stroke, diabetes, cancer, and depression.4

At one time, I was just like all those other people, looking for the perfect diet that would allow me to lose weight in record time, dropping 10 pounds only to gain 15 in the months to come.

Then, one transformative day, I decided to leave the diets behind and chose to eat whole foods as nature intended. It was a journey I took with my entire family and prompted by my son who was in and out of hospitals since his birth.

In the process, my son regained his health, and I lost 70 pounds. I have maintained my ideal weight of 135 without “dieting” ever since.

So, what does this story have to do with alkaline water?

Everything.

Alkaline + Water = Health

Some might suggest that alkaline water for weight loss is yet another diet to be listed in Wikipedia. I disagree. Alkaline water for weight loss combines two of the most important ingredients for sustaining and creating health—alkalinity and water.

Let’s take a look at the first topic—alkalinity—and how it relates to our health.

Food and Alkalinity

When my family and I changed our diet to one based on whole foods, guess what happened? We stopped eating the many foods associated with the Standard American Diet that causes acidity in the body, and more of the foods that create an alkaline environment, such as fresh fruits and vegetables.

Did you know that everything you eat leaves a metabolic “ash” in your body? This residue occurs because the body actually burns the food you eat as it extracts the energy or calories it requires in much the same way that wood is burned for fuel in a fire pit–a process called oxidation. And, just as burning wood leaves behind ash, so, too, does food. The ash left behind is either acidic or alkaline.

Foods that leave an acid ash includes all meats, dairy, most grains, eggs, coffee, sodas, alcohol and sugar. Alkaline-producing foods include fruits, vegetables, ancient grains such as quinoa and kamut, beans, and some nuts and seeds.

What is an alkaline environment?

All living things must maintain a certain pH level in order to survive. pH is the measurement of the hydrogen ion concentration and ranges from 0 to 14 with 0 representing very acidic, 7 indicating a neutral environment, and 14 referring to extreme alkaline environments. Humans require a blood pH level within the 7.3 to 7.4 range—a very tight margin that the body goes to extraordinary measures to maintain.

When our bodies are continually bombarded by acid producing factors, from the food we eat, to environmental toxins, to the thoughts we repeatedly think, buffer systems start the process of neutralizing these excessive acids in order to keep us alive.

The three main bodily buffer systems are:

Alkaline Minerals: Sodium, potassium, calcium and magnesium are the alkaline minerals stored in the tissues of the body that bind with acids in order to neutralize them, and eventually eliminate them from the body through the kidneys, lungs, colon, and skin.

If the tissues are lacking these essential nutrients, the body finds them and extracts them from other areas, such as the bones and muscles.

Fun Fact: You would think that a lemon would be classified as an acidic food…yes? However, because it is high in calcium, magnesium and potassium, the metabolic ash it leaves behind is actually alkaline.

Lymphatic System: The lymphatic system removes acid deposits and other toxins from the tissues. Unlike the circulatory system that flows due to the beating of your heart, your lymphatic system’s series of valves requires stimulation like muscle relaxation and contraction in order to do the job of “taking out the garbage.”

If you’re not moving much, or don’t use a dry skin brush regularly, your lymphatic system is stagnant and acids build up.

Fat Buffer System: Low-density lipoproteins, commonly referred to as LDLs, bind with acids found in the blood, lymphatic system, and tissues of the body which are then removed via the urine.

If the body becomes overloaded with acids and the buffering systems are unable to keep up with the load, the body will protect the vital organs by storing these fat-acid combos in areas such as the hips, thighs, and stomach—eventually creating obesity.

If under constant threat of acidosis–a condition in which the body tissues become increasingly acidic–the ability of the body’s buffer systems to maintain an alkaline environment diminishes, and the chances of developing chronic diseases such as metabolic syndrome increases.

This syndrome is linked to acidosis. Symptoms associated with this disease include not only clinical obesity, but also high blood cholesterol, low amounts of HDL (the “good guy” in cholesterol circles), high blood pressure, kidney stones, and high blood sugar. It is also a predictor for cardiovascular disease and type 2 diabetes.

Water, Weight, and Health

We now understand the importance of an alkaline environment, so what does water have to do with it?

Water, as you know, is life sustaining. Without it, we will die in about four days.

Our brain is comprised of more water than any other substance. In fact, almost 75 to 85 percent of it is water and it uses this liquid to create hormones and neurotransmitters.

What else does water do for us? It regulates our temperature, acts as a shock absorber for the brain and spinal cord, lubricates joints, removes waste, helps deliver oxygen to every part of our body, and allows the cells to grow, reproduce and survive.6 Pretty important stuff.

When we don’t drink enough, we suffer from fatigue, dizziness, brain fog, muscle cramps, mood swings, constipation, dry skin, and insomnia.

And yet, it is estimated that 75 percent of Americans suffer from dehydration.7

Not only does lack of water affect our health, it also affects our weight. Think of the camel—with its one to two humps that it uses to store water as it migrates through the dry deserts.

Your body does the same thing—when it does not receive sufficient amounts of water, it stores it…i.e. water retention.

Often, if you are dehydrated, what you feel as hunger is actually your body telling you that you are thirsty. Try drinking a glass of water next time you feel that you need a snack. You may be surprised to find out you weren’t really hungry after all!

You may also be surprised to know how much water is recommended for the human body. According to the Institute of Medicine, men require, on average, 13 cups a day, while 9 cups are suggested for women. If you exercise or live in a hot climate, that amount increases.8

So, now we are back to our original equation: Alkaline + Water = Health.

We now know the benefits of alkaline foods and water. Put them both together and we have alkaline water—a drink containing both vital elements. Alkaline water typically has a pH level of about 8 or 9. It also contains several key minerals such as calcium, potassium, sodium and magnesium.

How Do You Get Alkaline Water?

Drinking this type of water is one of the best things you can do for your health. In fact, you can increase your pH by drinking alkaline water more than any other habit—even adopting a raw vegan diet!

Water sold as “alkaline water” is available at most grocery stores. Besides being inconvenient and expensive, there are several issues with bottled water alkalinity claims that don’t (ahem) hold water–their pH claims are often wildly wrong, because if they are creating alkalized water through ionization, this process doesn’t permanently change the nature of the water–it reverts back within a few hours. Or if they are claiming alkalinity through mineralization, they use synthetic “mineral” additives your body can’t use.

The Life Ionizer water ionization system that I have in my own home.

Another common name for alkaline water is ionized water. The best and most efficient way to get alkaline water is with the use of a water ionizer at home. Not only can you set the pH to a perfect 9.5, the ionization process also creates antioxidants.

Before I bought mine a few years ago, I spent several months researching the many water ionizers and testing the pH level of the water–not just when the water came out of the ionizer, but several hours later, as well.

Ultimately, I chose the Life Ionizer water ionization system for my own home.

And a wonderful side-benefit to increased health? Weight loss.

How Does Alkaline Water Help with Weight Loss?

Diminishes fat cells. Maintaining an alkaline, hydrated environment reduces the body’s need to create more fat cells in which to store excess acid. This benefit results from alkaline water’s ability to detoxify, explained next.

Detoxifies. The accumulation of acid wastes around cells creates a toxic condition called acidosis. In an attempt to control this toxic environment, the body creates fat cells whose mission is to contain the acid waste and keep it away from the body’s organs. Creating an alkaline environment reduces these toxins,and as a side benefit, reduces fat and helps one reach a natural and healthy weight.

A study conducted in 2011 found that participants who drank alkaline water for 2 months excreted 10 toxic heavy metals–one of the most difficult classes of toxins for the body to get rid of.9

Promotes beneficial gut flora. Alkaline water supports the beneficial probiotic microbes in your intestines. This helps maintain a healthy gut flora that converts food into energy instead of fat and toxins.10

Breakdown of fats. Your body converts fat to energy by a process called lipolysis. This process depends on a chemical reaction called hydrolysis—the chemical breakdown of a compound due to its reaction with water.

In order for this system to work, proper hydration is essential. When water is ionized, the size and shape of the water molecules change– they become smaller. Their reduced size makes it easier for them to pass through the cell walls and enable them to hydrate parts of the body that have long been dehydrated.

It’s an amazing, energized feeling you get, when you start drinking this type of water and your body becomes saturated in antioxidant-rich alkaline water!

Neutralizes lactic acid. Alkaline water neutralizes the lactic acid waste that your muscles produce when you work out, helping you exercise longer and avoid sore muscles.

Increases your metabolism. When you are dehydrated, your body slows down your metabolism in order to conserve water.

Resets leptin levels. Leptin is your “stop eating” hormone. It sends a “full” signal to the brain that keeps you from that second helping of your favorite pasta carbonara. Eliminating toxins, creating an alkaline environment, and lowering inflammation all help to reset your leptin levels, allowing for effortless weight loss.

Helps kidneys function. Kidneys can discharge more toxins when your pH is higher. For example, if your urine pH is at 5.5, your kidneys are only able to filter out about 5 percent of the fluoride in your bloodstream. At 7.6 pH, the kidneys can filter out 65 percent of this fluoride.11

Examples of Weight Loss and Longevity

A study conducted on obese people found that those who drank two liters of alkaline water on a daily basis averaged a loss of 12 pounds in two months with no other change in their diet. In addition, they also observed reduced cholesterol and blood pressure levels.9

Researchers at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center had subjects with potential metabolic syndrome drink alkaline water for 8 weeks. All participants demonstrated improvement in the levels of oxidative stress markers including a decrease in “bad” cholesterol and an increase in antioxidant activity.5

Their conclusion? Hydrogen-rich water represents a potentially therapeutic and preventive strategy for metabolic syndrome.

The Okinawa Centenarian Project was a study conducted to determine why Okinawa—a Japanese Island—had more people living to the age of 100 or older than anywhere else on earth. They found that their diet is rich in vegetables and fruits, they exercise daily, practiced mindfulness, and drink an alkaline water rich in healthy minerals.

Conclusions on Alkaline Water for Weight Loss

While you may think alkaline water is out of your financial reach, keep in mind, it is pennies on the dollar compared to buying bottled alkaline water, which, as we’ve explained, usually doesn’t stay alkaline after it’s bottled and until you drink it anyway..

Another remarkable difference is that reverse osmosis and distilled water units remove all the minerals and create a very acidic water–usually somewhere between 4.5 and 5.7.

The bottom line is that adding alkaline water to your diet and daily lifestyle is an excellent and easy way to increase your health and provide your body with the hydration and minerals it requires to help you maintain your ideal body weight.

I did a webinar with an alkaline water expert here, for you to learn more about how alkaline water may serve your health goals, and how to get a system installed under your own sink at wholesale price.

–Robyn Openshaw, MSW, is the bestselling author of The Green Smoothies Diet, 12 Steps to Whole Foods, and 2017’s #1 Amazon Bestseller and USA Today Bestseller, Vibe.

Learn more about how to make the journey painless, from the nutrient-scarce Standard American Diet, to a whole-foods diet, in her free video masterclass 12 Steps to Whole Foods.

Disclosure: This post may contain Affiliate links that help support the GSG mission without costing you extra. I recommend only companies and products that I use myself.

Resources

Ingraham, Christopher. Nearly half of America’s overweight people don’t realize they’re overweight. The Washington Post. 12/2016. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2016/12/01/nearly-half-of-americas-overweight-people-dont-realize-theyre-overweight/?utm_term=.77a06403c764

Purcell, Katrina BSc. The effect of rate of weight loss on long-term weight management: a randomized controlled trial. The Lancet. 10/2014. https://www.thelancet.com/journals/landia/article/PIIS2213-8587(14)70200-1/fulltext#article_upsell

Wolpert, Stuart. Dieting does not work, UCLA researchers report. UCLA Newsroom. 04/2007. http://newsroom.ucla.edu/releases/Dieting-Does-Not-Work-UCLA-Researchers-7832

Voss, Gretchen. When you lose weight—and gain it all back. NBC News. 06/2010.

Nakao, Atsunori et al. Effectiveness of Hydrogen Rich Water on Antioxidant Status of subjects with Potential Metabolic Syndrome—An Open Label Pilot Study. Journal of Biochemical Nutrition. 03/2010. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2831093/

The Water in You. The USGS Water Science School. https://water.usgs.gov/edu/propertyyou.html

Ericson, John. 75% of Americans May Suffer From Chronic Dehydration, According to Doctors. Medical Daily. 07/2013.

How Much Water Should I Drink? WebMD. https://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/how-much-water-to-drink#1

Guy, A.E., et al. The effect of daily consumption of 2 liters of electrolyzed water for 2 months on body composition and several physiological parameters in four obese subjects: a preliminary report. Original Internist. 09/2011. https://www.highbeam.com/doc/1G1-269433201.html

Vorobjeva, N.V. Selective stimulation of the growth of anaerobic microflora in the human intestinal tract by electrolyzed reducing water. Elsevier Medical Hypothesis. ScienceDirect. 2005.

The Ultimate Alkaline Water Cleanse. Life Ionizers. 2015.

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