#but she did keep dangerous powerful and other dark magic things (the mirror) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Can you do part 2 of chandelier?

Chandelier

This is part to to this imagine, find it here

Pairing | dark!Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary | the suburban life that you have been locked in soon takes a turn whence another being, with radiating power is revealed to be causing such destruction. Perhaps Wanda isn’t the bad guy, or at least, not the worst villain that has you under their thumb. Witches, and their possessiveness!

Warnings | mentions of death, violence, witches, magic, imprisonment, angst, spoilers for Wandavision. I fixed the Ralph Bohner plot because I could

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Time had surpassed, and continuing to live under the restrictions of Wanda hadn’t been so bad. She was your wife, the Maximoff that owned your heart, a red beam of scarlet that floated around in the depths of your head. Her influence left a pressure inside of you, a mark and a reminder to her that you belonged to her.

One thing that you knew for certain, was that you needed to escape these red restrictions, and break free of this place that you were forced to call home. It was tough to slip from the penetrating gaze of the possessive redhead, but to your luck, your nosey neighbour had decided, on this fine evening, to walking into the kitchen, and stir up some gossip with your partner.

Agnes, as she went by. It always seemed like she wanted to be away from that husband Ralph of hers, but you couldn’t blame her, you wanted nothing more than to escape the possessiveness of your wife. She was no longer the same woman that you had met, she was crafted by loss, that tormented her into being a captive. Using the excuse of protecting you to her advantage, claiming that you would not appreciate what lay on the outside of Westview.

Party girls don't get hurt

Can't feel anything, when will I learn?

I push it down, push it down

I'm the one "for a good time call"

But you couldn’t help but feel completed as you reached the borders of the town. It was surreal, you felt ecstatic to leave this little prison, that was in deep disguise to convince all residents that their home was real, and not all an illusion painted by a certain redhead. She saw you as a new canvas, which she kept overlapping with white paint to make blank for another piece of mindful artwork.

Turning once more, to ensure that the woman of your nightmares hadn’t decided to appear behind you, within a second, you lurched forward, pushing your body through her borders, feeling each atom in your atom tug apart and put itself back together, as you fought with just your own body to break through the access and exit point of her false reality.

That’s all this was, an illusion, masked in amounts of power that could possibly kill you. But death by attempted escape was better than remaining here, in this vast plain, that was all meant to occupy the mind, fooling it into thinking that this was a normal life. Instead, you knew how absurd it was, there were tweaks every now and then, until you were transferred into a different time.

Right now, you were in the 2000s, but you needed to get back to 2023, the real time line, the universe outside of these red orbits that stood strong, and pained your skin, pushing a power that you did not know that you could feel beneath your flesh, making your body burn from your withdrawal from its sharp contents.

Phone's blowin' up, ringin' my doorbell

I feel the love, feel the love

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

One. Two. Three. A yell bellowed from your throat as you fell out to the other side, collapsing on the ground, as your fingertips dug into the surface below. For a moment you frowned, before you glanced behind you, seeing the grand gesture of magic in its place, and you out of your own. You picked dirt up with your hands, it felt real, not like molecules that had been wedged together to create the appearance of such a natural substance.

The sound of footsteps had you rolling over, preparing to attack whomever had decided to disturb your peace, crouching on your knees as you glared up. It was a woman, one that you vaguely remembered, before your ever so loving wife had informed you that she had moved away, something about her mother not feeling well. All though, that may have been an illusion too, for all you were aware.

Nobody escaped Westview, until you. There was no route out, you were sure the chase wasn’t over, Wanda would come after you, numbing your mind with her tugging hands, that swirled with her red essence. The woman emitted grave power, and you far well knew that she would use it for when the time came. She would make you her prisoner once more, a dull and empty shell that would be ordered to do nothing more than return her affections with a plastered smile.

“Geraldine?” You asked nervously, realising that the woman appeared far different than the version of her within the Hex. She had portrayed nothing more than a fine friend to the deluded woman, supporting her magic show and coming over for tea in the morning, until she mentioned... Sokovia. Sokovia, her home, that had fallen against the battle with Ultron! You remembered!

Throw 'em back 'til I lose count

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier

From the chandelier

I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist

Like it doesn't exist

“Geraldine doesn’t exist.” She smiled softly, holding out a hand so that she could assist you to your feet. With sly eyes, you took it, untrusting of anyone at the moment. “My name is Monica, I have the intent of stopping your wife, she’s dangerous. She’s expanding these borders, and soon, I have no doubt that she will eat up the whole world, turning it into her playground.”

Playgrounds. They had been another thing that you noticed specked around the town, though there never seemed to be any children to play in them. That gave you some relief, unless they were locked up, stowed away to be kept of the suburban life. Wanda didn’t want children anyway, she wanted you, her baby, her fine darling, her pet. You were nothing more than a decoration within her false realm, a means to keep a smile stretched upon her sinister face, and a stopper to her darting red eyes.

And thus you stood on your own feet, no scarlet shadow behind you, whispering thoughts that were not your own in through your ear. Gulping, you looked Monica up and down, nervously seeing if she were to fade into the air, as many things did when the times changed, as they converted into more modern alternatives. A part of you had wished that you would grow with the changes, become stronger, become a free woman.

“I am not her wife.” You admitted aloud, feeling a heavy weight roll off your chest. There, you had said it, and for the first time, you hoped that the redhead heard you, you could imagine her scowl right now. That, that would be something that was sure as hell real, and not a part of her sketch script, her sitcoms were curtains.

They could be opened or closed, but often of a night, were shut to keep the silhouettes of monsters out. She was the monster, hiding from herself and the reality that she had came from. Though, the woman could not accept that she was the villain here. The creator of the dialysis that was affecting the lives of many, but for what purpose.

I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night

Feel my tears as they dry

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier

From the chandelier

But I'm holding on for dear life

“We have to stop her.” Monica spoke, getting out of the vehicle, you following behind her, as she moved closer to the collateral red veil that reached high up into the sky. Sounds from Jimmy insisted that she remain, and that another way in could be found, but all of you knew that was a long shot. And there was no time to wait around, not as purple grates were seen through the crimson walls of her boundaries, bursting like fireworks against her protection system.

And thus, you, gulping down the sensations of fear prickling at your fingers, followed after Monica, whom walked through the moulded fire, stepping into the plain that digressed your body, pulling it as though it were trying to reform your genes, affecting your DNA. As you succumbed to the sensations, you felt a burst in your chest, an ignition of something greater deep inside you.

But unlike Wanda, you were not going to use it for your own sinful convenience, you were going to stop her. You gasped as you fell out the other side, your limbs feeling like they were aflame, askew with treacherous fire. Turning to Monica, you saw that her eyes had transformed into an ambient blue, piercing your soul.

Won't look down, won't open my eyes

Keep my glass full until morning light

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

Help me, I'm holding on for dear life

Won't look down, won't open my eyes

“Your skin.” She spiked, raising her hand to her own cheek as she looked upon you. It was separated into sections, adjoined by the bone, as neon orange kept it attached, like cracks that had yet to be partitioned. There was no time for idly finding a mirror to squalor through at your own appearance though, no. You had returned to this hell for one reason only, and that was put an end to all this consuming madness.

And so, the pair of you walked through the town, not having to go far until you saw the ongoing battle. Agnes, as you had known her, was in the sky, along with you alleged wife, purple robes floating from her body, her hair crazed and wild, much like her eyes. She was no friendly neighbour, she was a reaper coming out to play, throwing lilac bursts of power towards Wanda, whom returned the favour with her own red energy.

“How do we get to them?” Rambeau asked, frowning as she watched their exchange with worried irises. To answer her question, your body aligned itself to rise, transcending towards the two warriors, your eyes hot and fiery as they flared remarkably at the sight of the bewitched competition.

At your presence, Agnes smirked, and Wanda’s face paled, soaking in the sight of your skin glowing with your own source of power. “If it isn’t your wife, just on time to join us for the main course.” Your nose curled at the sound of her distorted voice, as your head raised itself, glaring upon the scene. “There’s something different about you, I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Keep my glass full until morning light

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight, on for tonight

Sun is up, I'm a mess

Gotta get out now, gotta run from this

Here comes the shame, here comes the shame

To emphasise her point, she emitted a pulse of her magic towards you, it hitting deep in the pit of your chest. Though, it didn’t explode, or send you hurtling back, instead it grew brawlingly in your chest, brewing like a potion, and expanding every human structure that you could feel kept your skeleton upright.

As your head fall, and you remained in your place, Wanda frowned, head tilting as a crown appeared upon her forehead. She could not understand how you had changed so clearly. You were definitely not her wife, you were an image of her enemy, floating alongside her, standing for your cause. That was to end her, and this place she had formatted to become her home; your home.

When she had learnt of your betrayal, escaping whilst she was distracting by this opposer of hers, she had been filled with various emotions. Angry was one definition of how she had felt, but another had been determined. She was determined to get you back, and wash away all thoughts of ever leaving her again. But as she looked upon you, for some reason, she knew that her tricks wouldn’t work.

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

Throw 'em back 'til I lose count

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier

“What are you?” She asked in that distressed accent of hers. What were you? It was unknown, or at least to your own knowledge, you were a vision, a bird set free, no longer trapped behind the bars of a cage. Wanda tried to thrust your to the side with her elegant will, but instead of obeying her technical whim, you tilted your head.

It came as a shock to you as well, having expected to be thrown around by her wishes, but instead, you remained, only absorbing her tainted force, your hair blowing from the sweeping of the stormy wind as you poised the two witches with your amber gaze, keeping your pupils locked on them, as a hurricane rounded through the air, grabbing every form of their power.

The walls of the Hex slowly faded, swirling in the air before coming on command towards you, roping around your limbs before sinking into your flesh, leaving Agatha with a studying from onto her trialed face. She was watching, rather than fighting with you, picking out the little details like she had done with Wanda.

From the chandelier

I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist

Like it doesn't exist

I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night

Feel my tears as they dry

She was the scarlet witch, the most powerful sorceress of all, but you indeed were something else. Monica squinted from below, as she saw a streak of blue oncoming towards her, his willpower transcending through her, as he crumbled mistakenly to the ground.

He was a fake, or was he. As he tripped, Monica caught sight of the flaring purple beads around his neck, and thus, she knelt upon his chest, as she looked at them. This Pietro was being controlled, and she assumed it was through the ancient jewellery, and so, she pulled it from around his neck, scattering the beads upon the street.

As the man looked up, he was astounded. There was a fiery bird igniting in the sky, its wingspan spreading far, as it reigned terror upon all. He was amazed to see the sight once more... she was supposed to be dead. She had sacrificed herself, turned into particles within the universe. But it seemed as though the winged creature, pardoned by great force lived on.

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier

From the chandelier

But I'm holding on for dear life

Won't look down, won't open my eyes

Keep my glass full until morning light

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

Help me, I'm holding on for dear life

“Jean?” He whispered to himself, with a frown, his hand covering his mouth as he thought of his old friend that had facaded into meandering smithereens. Monica sighed at the man, walking closer, as she crossed her arms, looking down upon where he had crashed, and was laying upon the ground.

“Ralph Bohner?” She asked, watching as the stranger frowned at the title that she assumed of hun. With speed, he assisted himself up, brushing his hands on his legs, as he kept blinking up at the apocalyptic sky.

“No, I feel sorry for a dude with that name.” He lightly chuckled, finding the boner joke rather hilarious. “Peter Maximoff is the name, my fine lady.” She shook her head at his efforts but... Maximoff? What about Pietro?

Won't look down, won't open my eyes

Keep my glass full until morning light

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

On for tonight, on for tonight

“She’s the dark Phoenix.” Agatha gulped, her face contorting into one of fear and worry as she looked on at the way your arms spread like an eagle, igniting with their flame like aura. She had heard ancient stories, but they were not from this time. And here you were, facing off against her and the scarlet witch.

They had no chance against you, but Wanda did not know that, and as she readied to face off with you, she found herself being pushed to the ground, by nothing more than your stern gaze. Agatha too was pulled in by your sway, as you forced both to descend, and be grounded.

With a curve of your neck, they found themselves trapped against telephone lines, lines of their own magic pulling at them like strands. They were tied up, like the witches of old, powerless to those that stalked them.

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

Oh, I'm just holding on for tonight

On for tonight, on for tonight

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

All of a sudden, Wanda felt overcome with regret, as she was put in this position. She tried to escape, but Agnes as she had called herself priorly shook her head at the silly girl, understanding that this was the end.

“We are no match for her Wanda. She is not a witch, she is being far more powerful. Fall to her mercy, or you will receive the brunt of it.” Westview had fallen, and thus, Wanda realised that by taking you, you had taken everything right back from her, reciprocating the notion that she had described to be love.

She held on, wanting the night to be over, as she saw Monica, the woman that had tried to help her, behind you. And the man that had posed as her biological brother. There was no hope left for her, no saving her. In the end, she had became the villain. Her and Agatha were not so different after all.

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

Oh, I'm just holding on for tonight

On for tonight, on for tonight

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marvelmusing · 3 years

Text

Making Time

Mobius M Mobius x Reader

Part 2

My Masterlist

“1985, huh?” You say, looking up from the briefing Mobius has just handed you.

“Yeah, maybe we’ll spot a delorian?” He jokes, making a Back to the Future reference. You smile at him, remembering when you’d first mentioned the movie. You hadn’t been at the TVA long, to your knowledge.

You’re sat in one of the cafes, explaining something about the timeline to Casey, and you make an offhand reference to the movie. To which, Casey looks even more confused. You glance at Mobius, who’s been sat next to you, watching your teaching with a smile. You offer them both a small smile, at yet another reminder that you’re from somewhere very different from the rest of them.

“Neither of you have seen it have you?” Mobius shakes his head.

“Not a lot of chances for watching movies when dealing with the timeline. Should we get the chance, I’d love to.” It’s a few days later when you give him the chance.

“Honey, I’m home.” You hear Mobius call out, which brings a smile to your face. Whilst you had your own apartment, you much preferred staying with Mobius, like you did when you first arrived at the TVA. You hear him set down a pile of papers in the kitchen, before making his way into the lounge where you’re sat waiting for him. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s all this?”

“Back to the Future. I went through my file, and managed to find a version that I watched that was uninterrupted. Then I isolated it, and copied it onto one of those cassette reel things, so that it’ll play on your mini projector.” You pause, before adding, “I probably put too much effort into this but, I thought we could have what my time considers a movie night?”

“A movie night?” Your face falls slightly, feeling embarrassed by your suggestion.

“We don’t have to-“ you start. He shrugs off his jacket and settles down next to you.

“Did I not tell you I wanted to watch it, should I get the chance?”

“Well, yeah.” He gestures to the projector.

“Let’s get this show on a roll.” You grin at him, before quickly pressing play on the projector. Mobius leans an arm on the couch and pulls you to his side. “You finally have clearance to access to your file, and you use it to watch Back to the Future?”

“What else was I supposed to do with it?” You joke.

You and Mobius head to the cubicle where you left Loki this morning. You spot him wapping against the desk with a magazine.

“Training going well?” You ask him. He leans back in his chair, attempting to look casual.

“Yeah.”

“Is that my jet ski magazine?” Mobius asks him. “Put it down. Gear up. There's been an attack. Let's go.” He hands Loki the jacket he’s been carrying. You set the briefing down on the desk, and follow Mobius. Loki trails behind you. “Put it on.” Loki shrugs the jacket on, adjusting the collar before posing.

“Nice.” You tell him with a smile.

“Good. Yeah, smart.” Mobius says distractedly. You soon reach the Timedoors, where a small group of hunters have gathered to wait. B-15 opens up the briefing.

“C-20 and her team went dark shortly after they jumped into the 1985 branch. All signs point to another ambush. We've grabbed enough temporal aura to know it's our Loki Variant. But which kind of Loki, remains unknown.”

“They're the lesser kind, to be clear.” Loki specifies. B-15 sighs,

“Let me see the back of that jacket.” Loki does a small turn, showing the group the back of his jacket, where the bright orange letters reading VARIANT stand out. Everyone is the group shares a small smile. You’re glad you don’t have to wear one of those anymore.

“Very subtle. Well done.”

“I don't want anybody out there to forget what you are.”

“Oh, your only hope of capturing a murderer?”

“No. A cosmic mistake.”

“That's enough.” Mobius interrupts.

“Lovely.” You hear Loki murmur.

“Here's the deal.” Mobius begins. “When we get out on the branch, we're not just looking for a Time Criminal. We're looking for a Loki. A variation of this guy. A type we should all be very familiar with, because the TVA has pruned a lotta these guys, almost more than any other Variant.” He skims through a few of the Loki Variants that the TVA have caught before. “And no two are alike. Slight differences in appearances, or not so slight. Different powers, although, powers generally include: shapeshifting, illusion projection, and my favourite-”

“Duplication casting.” Loki interrupts

“Illusion projection.”

“No, they're two completely different powers.”

“How?” You ask him.

“Illusion-projection involves depicting a detailed image from outside oneself, which is perceptible in the external world, whereas duplication-casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance, which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure. But you already knew that.” He explains. You catch a glimpse of Mobius’s smirk before he says,

“Okay, take a breath. Noted. We're gonna break into two teams, including myself and Professor Loki.”

“Why?” A hunter stood beside you asks.

“Because whoever this Variant is, we haven't been able to find him. So let's bring in an expert.” Loki looks around at the group before adding a quiet,

“That's me.”

As the hunters prepare themselves, you hear Loki ask, “Do I get a weapon?” You laugh lightly,

“No chance.”

“Well, I'll have my magic back. Is no one concerned about that?”

“Of what?” Mobius asks.

“Me betraying you.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know that we’ll just catch you again.” You tell him.

“And how's betraying us gonna get you any closer to the Time-Keepers?” Mobius adds. Loki leans forward, his attention fixed on Mobius.

“An audience with the Time-Keepers is on the table?”

“Keep that focus.” Mobius tells him. The three of you follow the hunters through the Timedoor, and out into 1985 Wisconsin. Your group makes their way through the crowd of the Renaissance fair before entering a large tent. It’s dark inside, with only a few lanterns to light your path. You watch as B-15 bends down to grasp examine a helmet left abandoned on the floor.

“So he's taking hostages now?” She says, turning to Mobius.

“The Variant's never taken a hostage before.”

“Maybe he's upping his game.”

“Or he pruned her.” One of the hunters remarks, you frown at his callousness towards his colleague.

“A Loki couldn't have gotten the jump on C-20.”

“I think you underestimate, actually...” Loki begins.

“Fan out and search for her. And hurry up, we're at three units until red line.” B-15 orders. Mobius sets a hand on your arm, and the two of you head to the exit.

“Come on.” He says to Loki.

“Wait. If you leave this tent, you'll end up like them.” Mobius stops beside Loki.

“What do you see?”

“I see a scheme, and in that scheme, I see myself.” Loki begins to ramble about an old Asgardian saying.

“Two units. He is wasting our time.” B-15 interrupts.

“Okay. Come on, Loki, make a long story short.” Mobius encourages.

“We need to look for C-20.”

“That's exactly what the Variant wants you to do. It's a trap. He's waiting for you outside this tent.”

“Should I secure the reset charges?”

“No. He wants me. I'm the key to his plan. He knows that I'm stronger. And he rightly believes that together we can overthrow and rule the TVA. But that's not what I want. I have a new purpose. I'm a servant of the Sacred Timeline. And knowing what I now know about his tactics, I can deliver you the Variant, but I need assurances.” He says, looking to Mobius. You glance up at Mobius, frowning slightly. Surely he isn’t believing what Loki’s saying? His eyes catch yours and there’s a small twinkle in them. You hide your smile. Loki circles around Mobius.

“Yeah?” Mobius offers.

“Assurances that I won't be completely disintegrated the moment the job has been done.”

“Right.” Loki leans forward, before whispering,

“We'll need to speak to the Time-Keepers at once. They're in graver danger than we realized.”

“He's lying. Just playing games. There's no one out there.” Mobius calls out to the group.

“Reset the timeline.” B-15 orders.

“You had me for a second. My ears are sharp too.” He points at Loki’s chest. You follow Mobius out of the tent.

“Well that went well.” You remark, hearing Mobius sigh. He runs his hand over his face.

You’re tucking into your lunch when you spot Mobius. He picks out a drink and a salad before making his way over to you. You give him a small smile,

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“How did it go with Renslayer?” He sighs, leaning his head back, before getting comfortable in his seat.

“Well, our Loki hasn’t been deleted yet.”

“That’s good then?” You offer. He sighs,

“Yeah. Though he’s getting more and more talkative.”

“You did say he loves to talk. Where is he now?”

“I’ve left him with the archives, hopefully he’ll be reading for the next few days. Or at least long enough for me to finish lunch.” He begins to eat his salad. Just then, Loki scampers in looking like a manic puppy.

“I found something.” Mobius shakes his head, keeping his attention on his lunch,

“No, I said don’t bother me until you've read all the files.”

“I have.”

“Every file?”

“Yes.”

“Pertaining to the Variant?”

“The answer isn't in the files, it's on the timeline. He's hiding in apocalypses.”

“Which apocalypse?” You ask.

“Any time in history? There's, like, a million of 'em.” Mobius adds.

“Ragnarok. Are you familiar?”

“Yes. The destruction of Asgard and most of its people. I'm sorry.” Loki pauses looking down.

“Yes, very sad.” He immediately perks up again. “Anyway, it got me thinking. Nexus events happen when someone does something they're not supposed to do, right?”

“Well, it's a little more complicated, but, yeah.”

“Great. And then that thing they're not supposed to do, cascades into a whole range of other things that aren't supposed to happen.”

“And so on and so forth, until eventually, a new timeline branches. Yes?”

“Chaotic alterations of a predetermined outcome.”

“Exactly. So, let's just say...” He picks up the salad bowl from in front of Mobius.

“Mm-hm. What are you doing?”

“...your salad is Asgard in this scenario.” Loki continues.

“It's not Asgard, that's my lunch.” Mobius complains, the pouting clear in his voice. You lean forward, a hand on your chin to hide the smile at Mobius’s reaction.

“It's a metaphor. Just hang in there.”

“I want that salad.”

“And I could go down to Asgard before Ragnarok causes its complete destruction and I could do anything I wanted. I could, let's say, push the Hulk off the Rainbow Bridge.” He picks up a salt shaker and puts a large sprinkling of salt across Mobius’s salad.

“There he goes.” You say, feeling rather invested in this metaphor.

“The salt's Hulk?” Mobius asks, clearly not as enthusiastic as you.

“And I could also... Set fire to the palace.” He picks up a pepper pot and shakes the pepper across the salad.

“No, just stop. Don't set fire to the palace.”

“Okay? I can do whatever I want to do, and it would never matter. It wouldn't go against the dictates of the timeline because...” He sets down the shakers after nearly emptying them both. He heads to the table behind you. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, God!” Mobius sighs.

“You!” Recognising the voice you look up to see Casey looking very confused.

“Nice to see you. I just need this for a second. Thanks.” Loki picks up Casey’s carton of juice, before sitting back down at your table. “Because the apocalypse is coming. Ragnarok, Surtur will destroy Asgard no matter what I do.”

“No, don't do...” Mobius sighs as Loki empties the carton over the remains of the salad.

“There's the apocalypse.” You say with a sigh, offering Mobius your bag of chips.

“That's the apocalypse?” He asks, taking a handful of chips from you with a smile.

“Ragnarok obliterates the salt. Ragnarok. There it is.” Loki gestures to the ruined salad with a proud smile.

“What am I lookin' at?”

“Okay, it was a clumsy metaphor. But you see what I mean. It doesn't matter. It could be any apocalypse. It could be a tidal wave. It could be a meteor. It could be a volcano, a supernova. If everything and everyone around you is destined for imminent destruction, then nothing that I say or do will matter, because the timeline's not gonna branch. Hence, the Variant could be hiding in the apocalypse and do whatever he wants, and we wouldn't know!”

“Not bad.” You offer.

“Take me to a real apocalypse, to Ragnarok, I'll show you.” Mobius chuckles,

“Yeah. So you can run away back to your homeland? No.”

“No, I'm not going home. We can go anywhere.”

“I'm not taking you for a stroll along the promenade, much less an apocalypse.”

“Oh, Mobius, come on! What could possibly go wrong? We gotta properly test this theory.”

“Well, here's a fun theory. You lure me out into the field, and stab me in the back. And that's a theory I don't wanna test.”

“I'd never stab anyone in the back. That's such a boring form of betrayal.” He most definitely would stab someone in the back.

“Loki, I've studied almost every moment of your entire life. You've literally stabbed people in the back, like 50 times.”

“Well, I'd never do it again, because it got old.” You both laugh at this. Mobius looks at you, and you shrug.

“Might as well try it?” You offer. Mobius nods,

“Okay.”

“Okay, look, you don't trust me, you can trust one thing. I love to be right.” Loki adds. That certainly isn’t a lie.

Tagslist: @n0obmaster69 @mackycat11 @wibblywobblyjeremybearimy @boriqs @morganwilliams @greeneyedblondie44

If you’d like to be tagged just ask!!

#mobius m mobius x reader #mobius x reader #agent mobius #mobius #mobius m mobius #mobius loki #loki 2021 #tva loki #time variance authority #marvel au #marvel x reader

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nyx-aira · 3 years

Text

Hold me just a little bit longer (part 7)

Summary: After the revelation that Agatha was a witch your relationship changed. You were closer than ever before but will it stay that way?

A/N: I loved writing this chapter, enjoy :)

Tag list: @escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @king-star @ynscrazylife @booklovinbi @mysticfalls01 @adorkwithaplan @nathaslosttheirshit @agathaharkness-simp @paulawand

After the kiss in the basement your whole relationship changed. You could now see the real Agatha, the witch that craved knowledge above everything but most importantly the woman that would sacrifice the world for you.

It was as if you had fallen in love with her over and over again, discovering something new every day. Agatha didn’t hide her magic from you anymore, purple sparks visible almost all the time, wrapping around her hands, dancing through the air.

You were fascinated by her magic, admiring her as she weaved spells so complicated you couldn't even start to comprehend. You knew she was planning something but you honestly didn't care, glad that you had manage to save your relationship, enjoying your life as you explored you girlfriend's true persona.

You were sitting on the couch, watching TV, when you felt Agatha sit down next to you, the pulsing of her magic still making you shiver, but not in a bad way. It felt like it liked you, accepting you, welcoming you.

You leaned into her side, feeling her hands around your waist in an instant, pulling you closer.

"What are we watching love?"

You shrugged with your shoulders. You hadn't been paying attention to the TV for most of the time anyways.

"What's on your mind angel?"

Laughing as she managed to always know what's going on you looked up at her, pressing a short kiss to her cheek.

"You're planning something Agatha."

The witch looked at you with a fond smile, playing with some strands of your hair, twisting it around her fingers.

"You know I always am darling."

You snuggled closed to her side, resting your chin on her shoulder, playing with her hair that cascaded down her shoulders, content in her arms as you sat by her side, glad that she was a part of your life.

Continuing to watch TV the both of you simply enjoyed the others presence, holding each others hands or pressing a short kiss now and then on your girlfriend's lips. You were happy, the presence of the other calming you. Sometime along the seventh episode of the show you were watching you had changed positions, your head now laying in Agatha’s lap, the witch in question massaging your scalp as she just held you close to her.

You felt safe in her arms, as if nothing could harm you there, purple magic gently swaying around you, the now familiar feeling of the dark energy settling on your skin. You welcomed it as it was a part of Agatha, mirroring her soul, dark, twisted, powerful, beautiful, passionate and always craving more.

It was as if you could see into her soul, touched that she trusted you so much to lay her feelings open, letting you in. No walls to keep you out, no secrets as she showed you what she was planning.

You gasped as she showed you Wanda's true potential, how dangerous she could be. The legendary Scarlet Witch. You understood that she had to figure out what's going on before Wanda would crumble completely, she was dangerous, way more than you thought she was.

But this also brought a small smile to your face. Even though Agatha’s approach to the situation was anything but gentle her motivation wasn't pure evil. She wanted Wanda to have what she didn't had, a mentor.

You still felt sick when you remembered what Agatha showed you down in the lair. How her coven, her own mother, had tried to kill her, simply because she had been more powerful, more dangerous. Yes she had broken the rules but they had refused her the tutoring she had needed.

Your girlfriend wasn't a good person, you knew that, she had hurt many people over the centuries but there wasn't just pure evil in her. There was still this spark, this spark young Agatha had had her whole life and that never faded. Her craving for knowledge, to learn new things, to better herself. She was something else that was for sure but you loved her, loved her unconditionally, until death would do you apart. She was your missing piece, your soulmate. Your one and only. Forever.

You looked up when you heard a sob, shifting so you could look at Agatha. When you turned around you locked eyes. She was crying, a happy smile on her face, her magic happily dancing around you. Her magic. She had heard every one of your thoughts, still conected thanks to her spell.

She pulled you up from where you were laying on her lap, hands around your waist as she looked at you with so much love and adoration.

"Did you mean it?"

Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, emotions staining her voice, a look in her eyes that could only be described as complete devotion. Pure love. You started to tear up a bit as well, unbelieving of the love the woman in front of you held for you.

"Every single word."

At this a big smile started to form on her face, tears making her baby blue eyes look like the stormy sea. She caressed your face and pulled you in for a passionate kiss, full of love and emotions.

You eagerly kissed back, never getting enough of the feeling of her lips on yours. She was everything you could imagine and so much more. Feeling what she was feeling thanks to her magic. It was unbelievable, the love she held for you, the pure joy she felt at seeing your face, the peace she felt when you laid in her arms. You had never experienced something like that before, how someone could love so unconditionally. It was overwhelming, beautiful and you couldn't imagine to ever live without her again. When you broke apart you couldn't help but stare at Agatha, you were mesmerised by her beauty, her mind and you just couldn't stop smiling.

"Marry me."

You were caught of guard by her proposal, looking at her in shock. But you caught yourself rather quickly, tears starting to stream down your face as you pulled her in for another kiss, not caring that tears were streaming down your face or that you were sobbing like crazy. You were just so happy.

You smiled as you came down from the high this kiss gave you, looking at Agatha like she was your whole world.

"So that's a yes?"

You wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her into a bone crushing hug. Overwhelmed with joy and happiness.

"Yes it's always gonna be a yes."

You felt her break out in unbelievable joy, her emotions so intense you could feel them as if they were your own. She was so relieved, relieved that you would choose to spend the rest of your life with her. Forever.

As the credits of the episode rolled neither of the freshly engaged paid the TV any mind, holding each other, kissing, exited for what might come. They didn't care about the obstacles they had to face, about the plan the witch had to complete or the enemies they would make along the way. They had each other and that was enough.

While they were content in the others arms purple magic wrapped around them, bathing the whole room in purple light. A glowing string starting to form, connecting our lovers, binding them to each other. Forever was never precise, it could mean until one would leave this earth or it could mean eternity.

In our case, well let's just say they gave destiny a nudge in the right direction, the dark magic singing to both of them, taking their love and transforming it into something else.

A lovers touch, a myth almost as rare as the Scarlet Witch. When two people were destined for each other, soulmates if you will, sometimes magic would give them something in return. The promise of a life together, their souls merged together, connected for eternity. It was something personal, something intimate and something powerful, powerful and dangerous.

We all knew love could make us stronger, fight for our lover, our other half, do whatever was necessary to protect the one we loved. But what would happen if they weren't just in love, what would happen if they shared a bond, a power that could tear everything apart that threatened to separate them.

As the purple glow faded from the room, only small whisps of purple wrapping around the couple, something started to glow, a coral mist intertwining with the purple sparks.

A lovers touch. A myth that just became reality.

#wandavision #agatha harkness #agnes #kathryn hahn #agatha harkness x reader #agnes x reader #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agnes imagine #kathryn hahn imagine

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reylofanfictionanthology · 3 years

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TO FIND YOUR KISS IS NOW LIVE!

Authors will be revealed next week! For now all fics are anonymous. Treats can be posted through author reveals on 2/21. We will post an updated masterpost at that time.

To Find Your Kiss collection on AO3 | Treats Masterpost

GIFT FIC MASTERPOST

- Reap the Stars for abbytheatre08

The prompt: After Ben's death, Rey goes mad and turns to the dark side. Only Ben's not dead anymore. ----------------------- She is consuming fire, magnificent in her rage. She will burn the galaxy to its foundations, until the ashes rain down and pile high as mountains. She will gather them into bouquets and scatter them like petals upon his grave.

He will be remembered, and they will not.

Call him The Light Bearer and Joy Giver. Call him He Who Loved and Laid Down His Life. Call him Ben.

- we are question marks that hang above the endless unexplained for AlwaysEverlark

The first time she walked into his club, she was looking for a job. Kylo took one look at her—the stubborn pout of her lip, the determined glint in her eyes, the ruddy glow of her face where the sun had kissed it—and swallowed a lump in his throat that was shaped like the words you’re too good for this place.

They needed a singer. Kira Johnson could hold a tune, knew the old standards, and had a knockout pair of tits to boot. A few slinky ballgowns and a touch of lipstick, and she’d more than do the trick of distracting suckers long enough to part them from their money.

The club solely needed to break even; anything they made on top of the Syndicate’s cut was gravy, and Kylo Ren had been lining his pockets with his own take for long enough that he could see Kira for the lump of clay that she was: rough-hewn, misshapen, but soft and supple and sure to curve under his touch.

- Eighty Bucks Says Sweetheart for Amoreusou

Ben likes puzzles. Rey needs help with a bunch of them. Good thing it's a slow day at the office.

- Seldom Visions for Andrina_Nightshade

After visiting an old Sith temple, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has fallen into a deep sleep when he pricks his finger on the point of a red crystal. Rey become is the first to find him, but his rescuer isn't just any general or pilot, it's the woman he shares a soul with, who haunts his waking hours, who still sees him even in his sleep.

- The Dyad for aneighthdomain

Based of the Prompt: Groundhog Day scenario. Ben and Rey keep getting sent back to the first time they met and no matter what they do, Ben always dies so they stop trying to change events and just live a life time in the year between and couple of weeks and run away together.

- Saudade: The Love That Remains for AnneAnna

- The Delegation for aNerdObsessed

A humanitarian delegation from Naboo arrives at Niima Outpost. Rey is skeptical, to say the least.

- i don't want you like a best friend for anopendoor

It’s not like she hadn’t seen this coming—Rose told her weeks ago that he was invited. It was an inevitability Rey was always going to have to face, she just didn’t think that Rose would be so merciful as to also give every guest a plus one.

But Rey can’t really be upset—and she is totally, unequivocally not upset—that Ben's bringing someone because, well.

She is, too.

- Love is Weakness for bittersnake

“He’s someone I found on my recent trip to Corellia,” Rey replies placidly, her face practiced in its boredom. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Love is weakness,” her grandfather reminds her, the way he has for years. It’s why he doesn’t love her. He will not be weak. It’s why she doesn’t love him, either.

- in sickness and in health (with health being less likely) for BlueButterflyKisses

Deciding to spend the rest of their lives together is the easy part for both Rey and Ben; the trouble is in how to propose.

- Snowed In for Blueyedgurl

Never in her wildest dreams did Rey Johnson think she would ever get to meet her favorite other Kylo Ren. She also would have never entertained the idea of the scenario she found herself in. How did a hike in the woods lead to a snowstorm and taking shelter in a remote cabin in the woods? The idea was so ridiculous but had become reality. Stuck inside with a handsome stranger surrounded by a winter storm, Rey wonders what will happen with no power and only one bed. Will they be polite co-habitants stuck in a strange set of circumstances or is there room for something more?

- Curses, Comforts and Capybaras for Bombastique

Arrogant CEO bites off more than he can chew when he angers a witch... And suddenly finds himself transformed into a capybara. Can kindhearted wildlife rehabber Rey Niima help him break the curse?

- To Heal a Broken Soul for Cat2000

Ben survives the fallout of Exegol, but his connection to the physical world is in danger. Rey tends to him as she searched for a way to heal him.

- holding me like water in your hands for Ceallaigh

After Hux finds out Ben killed Snoke, Hux encases Ben in Carbonite. Rey refuses to let Ben stay frozen forever so she mounts a rescue.

- Like a Thief in the Night for chagrins

Their bond won't let them be alone. At least this time it's the middle of the night and they can't get into a shouting match.

- The Chance for Crysania

When Rey and Ben, long time co-workers who have never been able to admit their feelings to each other, go on a weekend retreat to work on a movie adaptation script together, a Nor’easter leaves them snowed in. On Valentine’s Day.

- Awake for cuddlesome

Something inside him is awake, and something inside her is about to wake up.

An alternate interrogation scene.

- darkness rises, and light to meet it for czechia

After the throne room, Jedi Ben Solo and Kira Ren meet again a year later.

- Not Quite a Fairytale for DarkMage13

Rey lets a stranger use the phone of the café she works at late one night. It changes the whole course of her life.

- You Won't Escape Me ('Cause I Set You Free) for DoorKeeper9

- The Canvas of Your Skin for darlingreadsalot

She was incapable of touching him without drawing blood, it seemed. Lines like vermillion paint streaked where her fingers sketched down the contours of his face, his back, and now his chest.

In which a Force bond is splintered, a resurrection goes wrong, a kiss is forgotten, and two almost-lovers avoid speaking for the better half of a year.

- Fleeing the Storm for driverfever

As the granddaughter of an merciless aristocrat, Rey’s life hangs on a thread at the hands of the French Revolutionaries. When her childhood friend, Ben, offers to platonically marry her in order to take her to his home in England to safety, she has no choice but to accept.

But her suitor and revolutionary Hux won’t give her up so easily. Hounded by revolutionaries and falling in love, Rey and Ben must use all their wits to flee Paris and make it to England.

- Equal Measure for dustoftheancients

When Princess Rey of Coruscant calls upon the cursed Sir Kylo Ren to help her escape her grandfather the emperor’s political machinations, she discovers freedom in the ancient familial magic that binds them together.

- Benimina Solo's Late On-Set Force Ability for Evangel10n

Benimina Solo has never, not even once, had an ounce of Force Sensitivity. She's done a great deal to move on with her life after failing out of her uncle's Jedi training school. So when Rey Palpatine comes into her life and suddenly everything changes, she's not a happy camper.

- Splatter for expendable

“You’re Palpatine’s girl,” he says coldly.

“His chief of staff, yes.” Rey’s eyes narrow. “And you have your hand on my ass, Kylo. Kindly take it off.”

“Or what?”

AKA powerful corporate rivals Kylo and Rey put the hate in love/hate.

- The Haunted Mirror for FangirlintheForest

When Rey travels to UK to attend the reading of his grandfather will, a grandfather she didn't know existed until that very moment, she finds a house, and a old story that will haunt her...

- i'm your secretary for firelord65

Kaydel pressed her lips together in a thin line, passing a pile of datapads over the desk. “I don’t know what that pretentious nerf herder has put into your brain, but these are tales of the key roles women have played in past rebellions.” She stood, tapping the pile. “They’re great reads,” she added, with a pointed raise of her eyebrow.

- and they danced across the sky for flipflop_diva

When he was still a child, he constantly watched the blue butterflies as they danced in the sky.

They seemed to be calling him, aiding him each instance that icy-cold darkness flowed through his very veins. The magnificent creatures saved him from the voices. They drowned out the incessant chatter in his head. Temporarily cleared away all the anger. During those brief respites, watching those blue wings flutter in the sky, Ben felt free.

But that’s another life. Another world. Another time. Another, another, another.

And Kylo's no longer a child.

No. He welcomes the darkness now. Embraces it.

- Finding The Answer for FrenchMartiniPlease

Rey pines for Ben Solo…so why does her soulmate mark always drain of colour whenever she gets close to him?

- Almost Unforgettable for HopeRebel

The woman in the mirror has blood on her clothes, cash in her bag, and a letter from her husband telling her it's better to forget. Well, he got his wish. She forgot everything-- including her name. And she wasn't the only one afflicted.

It'll take the combined efforts of gumshoes, a flatfoot, a washed-up Hollywood starlet, and more to get to the bottom of this bad business. In the end, these things always come back to the beginning.

- The Curl of a Sigh for irridesca

During the last song in Maxine’s set, a song she announces is called “Soul Companion,” Ben heads back out to the lobby to look for Rey. He finds her not with his eyes but with one broad shoulder, when he bumps into her and knocks her gig bag out of her hands and onto the plush carpet.

- and they were roommates for Lady_of_Haven

When Ben loses a bet to his roommate, Rey, he has to eat her out for 30 days.

- torn away from you (my heart is broken) for lakerose

The Force binds more than minds.

- If You Take Me for literallynoonecares

She sighed wistfully as she watched her two friends lean in toward each other as they danced, their lips meeting and melding together as they seemed to become one person instead of two separate beings. She had seen them kiss so many times, but this kiss … it was special.“I just want someone to kiss me like that,” she mused softly to herself, her eyes not leaving her friends.“I could make that happen if you wanted.”

- 3 Days in Vienna for Like_A_Dove

Kylo Ren, trained mercenary Alpha assassin, is on a mission—assassinate Chancellor Palpatine and bring his underground authoritarian regime to an end. It’s what the First Order demands, for the better of society.

It should be an easy task. He’s been getting close to the Chancellor and his cronies for years. So how is it that the unexpected appearance of an Omega, with a seemingly similar mission—and a wholly inconveniencing scent—become a distraction he hadn’t accounted for?

- Confidence and Desire for LittleLostStar

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow.” - Carrie Fisher

- Love brightens even the most monstrous parts of ourselves for LRRH17

No one knows since when the giant, black bear has lived in the forest near Theed. Many stories about the origin of Kylo Ren circulate in the small village. After Rey has run away from Jakku, and arrived in Theed she has heard them all of, but has never actually meet the creature. This changes when her and her friends get attacked by bandits on their way back from Otoh Gunga.

- Your Sweetness Comes With Sugar on the Side for Lutrosis

Rey's daughter loses her mother as she wanders around the Supermarket. Ben finds her and the two connect over both being Type 1 diabetics. They find Rey, and Ben and Rey are instantly smitten. As they date and fall in love they discover that Jade and Ben are connected more than they thought and healing is brought to the Solo/Skywalker clan.

- Allegories, or Allusions to Real Life for maq_moon

“Boys, please stop arguing.” Rose rubbed her temples. “Poe, we get it, you’re childhood best buddies, you’ve got a better grasp on his character than some rando of a rando you met at a party. Finn, for fuck’s sake, we’ve been working with Ben for months. I’m pretty sure if he’s a serial killer or whatever, it would have come out by now.” Finn sat back in his seat, grumbling. “Not how serial killers work.” Rey was going to have a headache if this continued any longer, so she lied through her teeth at the reality of a new player joining their D&D party. "He seems nice." She didn’t trust a single inch of skin on that man. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

- A Mad Man, with a Box for MBlair

Rey and Ben meet, move in together, get engaged, and marry.

- Invite the Wild In for midwinterspring

Kylo Ren, the mysterious senator who appeared from out of the deserts of Jakku and somehow brought them back to life, has spent a long and unproductive session on Hosnian Prime. Now, it's time to go home. After all, there's someone waiting for him and so much for them to do together.

(The ancient Sith had some interesting rituals.)

- Purim Party for MissCoppelia

Rey goes back to visit her foster mother for a Purim celebration. She meets Ben Solo who's visiting his parents, who are friends with her foster mother. They have an attraction to each other right away, but try to play it cool.

- The Banished Heart for misszeldasayre

On Rey of Niima’s nineteenth name day, Jakku gains a new wizard.

Jakku is a withering outpost of the kingdom, and its people hope the new wizard - the mysterious Kylo Ren - will bring them the rains the land needs to heal. Rey is a lonely, clanless girl living in Niima, and she has a secret. One she hopes the wizard will be able to help her with too.

- The Smuggler's Bride for MyJediLife

Miss Rey Nemo is the new mistress of Manor Takodana, left to her by the late Lord Skywalker. When a strange man named Kylo Ren appears on her doorstep, she decides to hire him as her new groundskeeper. As Rey faces sinister threats and secrets are revealed, Kylo Ren may be the only person who can save her.

- Annabel Lee for myownlittleinfinity

Rey keeps finding these ... notes in her locker. She doesn't quite get them. They seem like love notes, but she doesn't know who they could be from. Meanwhile she's paired up with Ben Solo (who hates her despite her gigantic crush on him) for this English assignment. Who knows how THIS will go.

- with my body i thee worship for niennathegrey

- the losing game for no_big_deal

Sith Princess Rey Palpatine is given a peculiar gift for her Life Day: a Jedi. Not only that, one who is boorish, spirited, and stubborn. But, he presents an opportunity: one that could liberate her from a life under the thumb of her grandfather. She has seven weeks to change his heart before all her freedom is taken from her - forever.

- standing right in front of you for notkellymarie

When Senator Solo's engagement is pushed forward, he and his Jedi bodyguard, Rey, travel to Naboo alone for the announcement ball. The pair despise each other, constantly bickering and disagreeing with each other, which makes spending extensive amounts of time alone together all that more difficult. Until of course, one of them breaks...

- the good, the bad, and the smuggling for OccasionallyCreative

Ben Solo is a seasoned smuggler. And he’s not bad at it, either. But when bounty hunter Rey offers him a temporary partnership he can’t refuse, Ben will find himself pushed to the limits of his skill, patience, and resourcefulness on a job that’s dangerous enough to be his last.

It’s like his dad used to say: bounty hunters are nothing but trouble, kid.

- Whatever our souls are made of...his and mine are the same for Padawan_Writer

Ben and Rey meet only after Kylo has defected from the First Order and returned to the Resistance and his mother. Will the dyad still find a way to be?

- They say that only the dead have seen the end of war for politicalpadmé

“He traded his life for mine,” Rey choked, stomping back and forth in front of him so fast he could barely keep track of her. “He died. He died so I didn’t have to—and it’s not—it’s—after everything he’s gone through—it’s not fair.” Tears were running down her cheeks now, and Poe wanted to do nothing more than hug her, but there was nothing he could say—nothing she would want to hear. Poe remembered all the people he’d lost, all the times he had raged and screamed and cried about the unfairness of it all. “Leia sacrificed herself to bring him back,” Rey declared suddenly, ceasing her constant pacing around the fire as she looked straight at him. “And he sacrificed himself for me—and now no one’s going to know. All he’ll be remembered as is Kylo Ren, but he was—he was so much more.” She exhaled with a shudder and whispered, “He was a part of me, and I—I don’t feel whole without him.” ~

A Force Ghost Ben/Rey love story, with a side of rebuilding the galaxy.

- Cicatrix for Priestly

Getting cut up by Rey on Starkiller awakens something in Kylo.

- I Will Always Be With You for Prix

But she wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy for much longer. She was starting to show, and her friends would start asking questions. She would have to give them answers, some of them would not understand, and none of them would accept.

She carried his child. The tiny spark of light woven with darkness, just like her. Just like his father.

—————

The world has gone dark More times than you Or your mother Or your grandmother Can remember. And every hurricane That was meant to be The end of it all Had instead ended In sunshine again.

So believe me When I say; You will survive this And the next one too.

World’s End—Nikita Gill

- all my daydreams are disasters for QueenOfCarrotFlowers

During her search for the infamous Luke Skywalker — the man who predicted a devastating earthquake in New Madrid, Missouri — Rey finds herself entangled in Luke’s family history and with his brooding nephew, Ben Solo.

- on what ground I was founded (when I first saw you) for redbelles

Kylo dreams of Rey after the Battle of Crait. And the yearning is mutual...

Some Force Bond dream smut inspired by "Shrike" and "NFWMB" by Hozier.

- Last Summer for Reykenobi68

Rey had started to get used to Ben not living next door anymore by the time the holidays came around. Then he's back for the holidays. Rey is really expecting things to go wrong after the way he left at the end of the summer. ut is it really going to be that bad.

- The Long Way Home for reylotrash711

In the aftermath of Exegol, Ben and Rey are divided by misunderstandings. It will take time and danger for them to work things out.

- Under the moonlight for shariling

I don't know why I followed you here. She wanted to reply. Maybe because you're so tall I couldn't help but notice you. Maybe it's because of your hair or the way you move, or maybe it's because of that kind of melancholic look in your eyes. There is something about you that I find terribly attractive and I don’t know what it is: maybe the moon or the alcohol or the wolf I have met before infected me with some strange parasite and now I am hopelessly attracted to dogs, I do not know. She could have said one of these things, any of them, instead she said: “I've never bitten anyone before, and I want you to be my first.”

- Fallen for shipperofdarkness

Prompt: Devil!Ben and Angel!Rey or Angel!Ben and Devil!Rey. How do these two on completely opposite sides fall in love and defy worlds to be together?

- come away with me for silentfleur

Rey owns a tinker shop, but her life changes when she meets Ben Solo and is cursed by a witch. Not necessarily in that order.

- A Picture of Me Without You for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

"I suppose I'd somehow struggle through / But I'd hate to picture myself without you."

It's impossible not to have a soulmark. It's not a big deal, not in the lax and gin-soaked speakeasies of 1920s Manhattan, but it's still a heavy weight to bear, as Ben Solo and Rey find out side by side.

- Lips Raw With Love for stellardarlings

Their kiss on Exegol wasn't their first kiss...

Nor would it be their last.

- Everyone Makes Divine Mistakes for Takekurabehime

Jedi Knight Ben Solo is sent to Naboo on an errand of mercy (and to visit his grandparents). He arrives in springtime; but will he be able to complete his mission without finding himself distracted and bewildered when love and intrigue waft through the fragrant air?

- Glitter & Gold for TearoomSaloon

Rey is lead singer in an up-and-coming glam metal band. They've finally got steady performances, but that means playing at the same club as the Knights of Ren, whose lead singer definitely isn't interested in any competition.

- To kiss like lovers do for the-reylo-void (Anysia)

Ben and Rey spend their formative years growing up together in Medieval Scotland and it looks like they will end up together. Circumstances intervene and Rey loses her chance to be with him. Devastated, she carries on until the day clan Ren attacks Castle Jakku lead by the notorious killer Kylo Ren.

- Snow Turns To Rain for thehobbem

For a moment, he wanted to ask what she meant, but if he was being completely honest, he already knew. He asked himself that same question over the years, and none more often than tonight, since seeing her again. Was leaving worth it? Was going their separate ways worth leaving each other?

“I’m not sure,” he said finally, shaking his head. “I’m happy...” he said, and she tensed a little, so he continued, “with my work. I’m glad I’m doing what I love, but....”

“But?”

“But it wasn’t the only thing I loved.”

- Change the Dance for theresonatinglight

- Meet Me in the Woods for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)

“What do you mean no one goes in there?” A chuckle. “It’s haunted. People see all sorts of weird things in there and some don’t ever come out. You’re better off living with your curiosity.” Rey wakes in a shadowy forest with no memory of where she came from, only her name. With the help of the resident guardian she takes a journey to figure out her past, and maybe even discover her future.

- permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) for Thursdaygirl

As they continue to work together, two things become clear. One: Ben Solo is an enigma. He’s preppy yet humble, privileged yet introspective. He’s the opposite of lazy; she kicks herself every day for assuming otherwise. And two: Ben Solo will never love her.

- show me the stars. for tmwillson3

“I don’t hate Christmas, I just don’t love it the way you do.” Lifting his head, he pulls a face, loosening up a tangled ornament of a poodle with pink, curly fluff. Rey snatches it from him possessively, tossing it back to the cart. “No one loves it the way you do, to be fair.”

“Now that’s the truth,” says Poe, who Finn invited about half an hour ago to keep him company.

“People have bad taste, I don’t know what to say.” Huffing, Rey scrolls through her phone with more intent. “Neither of you are helping me, anyway.”

“What’s the problem?” says Poe.

“Rey thinks her hot neighbor hates her —”

“He does hate me.”

“ — When really he’s been flirting with her for the past, oh I don’t know, how long have you lived there?”

- I realized that I need you, I wondered if I could come home for VR_Trakowski

Rey is doing exploration work for the Resistance, searching for force sensitive planets so any force sensitives that they find have a place to train.

One day, midflight she finds a slip of paper with the elegant scrawling words of the ones that came before. The ones that she found when Ben still roamed the galaxy.

When she lands on a dark and barren planet she is forced to face the feelings she thought she buried.

- Shadows of the Moon for walkingsaladshooter

The hallways got darker, the corridors grew longer. Shadows stretched across the walls. The ghosts of Breha Manor grew each night.

Rey clutched her necklace. Ben met her gaze.

And every night, there was weeping.

- show the way (the world could be) for writergenie

In the aftermath of the Battle of Crait, Rey struggles to find her place among the Resistance. However, her lingering Force bond with Kylo— Ben— whatever name he calls himself— complicates things, blurring the line between friend and foe.

When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really is a line between light and dark after all.

(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)

- why don't we go (somewhere only we know) for XarisEirene

The bond snaps back into place, even stronger than before. He is here. With Rey, yes, but with Luke - Luke, who is looking at them now with that same dangerous glint in his eye that haunts Ben’s dreams.

- renewed, transfigured, in another pattern for yodalorian

Rey mourns on Tatooine while Ben is stuck in the World Between Worlds. But neither of them are alone, and blue butterflies light a path back to each other.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #rffa writers #to find your kiss #master post #mod post #photo edit

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pjo-whore · 3 years

Text

Percy Jackson At Hogwarts

Chapter 1: Wizards Are What Now?

Look, Percy never wanted to be half-blood.

Being a half-blood – the child of a mortal human and a god – was dangerous. It was scary. Most of the time, on top of having neglectful parents and a dysfunctional and incestuous family that wanted you dead for petty reasons, it got you killed in other painful, nasty ways.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Percy didn’t feel envious of the kids who didn’t have to deal with the mythological world.

Percy Jackson was seventeen years old. Until a month ago, he was fighting a war against a Greek primoradial, the Earth Mother incarnate, Gaea – also known as his great grandmother. Before that, he fought in a war against his grandfather, Kronos, Greek Titan of Time, who wanted to overthrow the Olympian gods and take over the world and the Empire State Building. Somewhere in between he also found time to spend a month in literal Greek hell, Tartarus, who also happened to be his great grandfather, and who also tried to murder him on sight.

Was Percy a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

And right now, he was still trying to clean up the mess from the Second Giant War.

Now that there wasn’t a war looming overhead, the gods’ recent exploits were coming to light, and new demigods were popping up everywhere, everyday. The number of demigods skyrocketed now that they were actively searching and not waiting for them to stumble into Camp on their own.

But that also meant there were new kids to train, more demigods for the gods to claim, and less time to recoup from the recent war.

Less than a month had passed since Gaea’s defeat.

The days were filled with helping each other get back on their feet, rebuilding the camps, and trying to keep the fragile peace in order.

There was still a lot to sort out, and the gods weren’t as hands-on as most would like. There was conflict building up. News spread about how the gods helped the seven demigods of the prophecy fight the giants, because a giant couldn’t be killed by a mortal alone, and this made many jealous and angry. The gods could pop in for a single battle when it was their own ass on the line, but not when a group of their own literal kids needed to rebuild their home that was dedicated to the gods?

Besides Chiron and Dionysus, the only god to physically stay at Camp Half-Blood following the battle against Gaea due to his punishment from Zeus, there were no other adults. The oldest demigods were barely twenty. Despite age, most, if not all, the demigods looked to the prophecy demigods for guidance and leadership.

Annabeth, Jason, Percy, Piper, and Nico.

The brunt of the responsibility fell on the daughter of Athena, and the son of Poseidon. They led their Camp through the Second Titan War, and now they were survivors of another war.

Things weren’t easy for a long time.

The Camp was completely ravaged.

During Gaea’s seize of the Greek demigod Camp, the cabins were burned by the monsters and toppled by Gaea’s massive earthquakes. Not even the Big House – the staple of Camp Half-Blood, the oldest building on the lot – survived the attack.

Camp Jupiter didn’t fare any better, but their buildings had been more structurally sound, thicker and built of material that didn’t burn and crumble. Enough buildings were still standing well enough to inhabit.

Everything had to be rebuilt for Camp Half-Blood.

Nobody could be sent home – to their mortal homes, with mortal parents, and a mortal life, mortal being the slang for “normal” among the mythological world – despite the new lack of residency at Camp Half-Blood. Kids needed to heal. There were nightmares and PTSD. Trauma and concussions. People to be counted, bodies missing, some so mauled they were impossible to identify. Several bodies were unearthed from the ground, sucked in by Gaea’s attack and suffocated beneath the dirt.

Shrouds were made for those who could be identified, the unknown buried in unmarked graves to be remembered. Those who were missing were given honorary shrouds, unknowing if they were in one of the unmarked graves. The Romans were unable to do their traditional funeral rituals, transporting the bodies all the way to Camp Jupiter, and were burned in shrouds alongside the Greeks.

Mortal parents simply couldn’t help.

They couldn’t fathom their children being in a war.

There were fears that demigods would be taken away from Camp Half-Blood by their mortal parents, horrified at what their kids were put through. Chiron especially worried about demigods who would be kept from Camp by parents, forcing them to live alone without any mythological world support, to defend against monsters on their own, without any magic or special weapons.

So, among the remaining able-bodied demigods, Greeks alongside Romans worked together to erect the new Big House. Tents from the Romans’ siege on Camp Half-Blood were gifted to the Greeks to provide residency until the new cabins were built, while the Romans started to march back home.

During all the chaos, Percy didn’t have any time to sit down and process all that happened.

The whole Camp looked up to him as a leader, but Percy didn’t feel very strong or wise.

He only felt bitter.

There were some who walked by and whispered “lucky” and “prophecy.”

Some who stopped talking as soon as he walked into the room.

Those who acted like he wasn’t even human, just some untouchable hero; but they ostracized him.

Percy was aware that he was one of the so-called “lucky” campers; lucky being compared, because at least he walked away with all his limbs intact.

It didn’t feel like he was lucky.

He wasn’t unscathed. He bore many scars, visible and not. His time in Tartarus was an impossible nightmare on bad nights, and a shadow on good days.

Percy was learning that he had triggers.

He was learning Annabeth did, too.

Neither liked using elevators.

Annabeth’s expression went tight when Percy used his powers around her. She turned away, sometimes completely leaving the area.

She got antsy in the dark, a childhood fear resurfaced.

There were other little things; at night when she had nightmares she would toss and turn in bed, sweating through her clothes and sheets, despite the breeze being cold. Sometimes Annabeth would completely avoid Percy, acting snappish, always coming back and apologizing in the end, and they would hold each other like they were hanging over the chasm again.

Annabeth refused to talk about what she saw in her nightmares, and Percy never pushed. He was one of the only people who could understand what she was going through.

Sometimes all they could do was sit and try to drown out the memories of The Pit.

Percy’s triggers were different.

He developed a deep-seated hatred for empousai. The moment he saw one, his body started to shake with adrenaline and nerves, fire flashing before his eyes.

Percy could no longer look at the stars without feeling a deep loss, tears pricking at his eyes.

He prayed to his father, Poseidon, more often, as if trying to re-establish his connection to the sea, to re-establish his connection to the Overworld, as if that could cleanse him of what happened in The Pit. As if he could wash away the touch of The Pit.

Percy’s nightmares were always blurry and violent. He wouldn’t snap awake like others. He didn’t startle or jerk upright. He didn’t make a single noise. He would wake silently, and lay there in bed, eyes open and unseeing, that shattered glass feeling he always dreaded at the bottom of his stomach. After he could never go back to sleep, and he would get up and sit on the tile in his cabin for hours and look in the mirror and wait for the image to change. He would wait for it to reflect what he feared, though it never did.

“Okay, so, how big is the situation? Is it like, ‘Aphrodite lost her hairbrush again’ big? Or is it ‘Gaea has risen again’ big?”

Annabeth frowned. “I don’t know. All Chiron said was that a god needed our help – and I don’t know about you, but I don’t like the sound of that.” She chewed her bottom lip in thought as they headed toward the Big House. They had been asked to attend a private meeting with Chiron, outside of the camp counselor meeting. “He sounded serious, too. Whichever god it is must be an asshole to seek help so soon after the war.”

She wasn’t wrong, Percy thought.

Jason was appointed Pontifex Maximus in Camp Jupiter, and as such he was responsible of advising the praetors, ruling over the Camp Jupiter counsel, and overseeing the work and prayers to the minor gods. His promise to Kymopoleia to bring worship and awareness for all minor gods became his fulltime job, and it was ruled that most gods must go through Jason to request help from either demigod camp.

A god asking for help directly after a full-scale war? Using Chiron as their connection? It was a hit below the belt, and it made Percy frustrated.

A few demigods raised their heads in greeting as Percy and Annabeth passed by the arts and crafts center. Conner and Travis Stoll, who were trying to build bombs with bits and pieces from the forge, took one look at Percy, then at Annabeth, and wiggled their brows suggestively. Percy unsubtly stuck them the bird, and they started to laugh their assess off.

The Big House was smaller now, after being rebuilt.

What could be scavenged from the attic was saved, but most of it was lost. Magical artifacts and ancient texts were burned and crushed. Now the Big House served mostly as the infirmary, aside from the drop-by medicinal tent near the Apollo cabin, where more medical supplies were. The Apollo and Hephaestus cabins had been the first to be rebuilt because they gave needed services.

Aside from the infirmary, the Big House had a commons area for meetings, and housed a kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom.

Checking in the commons area, Chiron was in his wheelchair. Nico was sitting at the beloved ping pong table, which had somehow survived the siege on Camp, and Thalia was sitting backwards on a chair by the new counselor table, which no one ever used.

Percy sat next to Nico and twirled the ping pong paddle between his hands, Annabeth taking her usual seat during counsel meetings.

Chiron looked tense.

“Now, I know that only a month has passed since the end of the Second Giant War, but –”

The air practically sparked with the collective tension that built.

“– a new quest has been issued.”

Annabeth leaned forward in her seat, interested. “Chiron, you can’t have an official quest without a prophecy. And the last time I checked; the Oracle of Delphi wasn’t working right now.”

“Well, it’s a good thing this isn’t a quest from the Greek pantheon, then.”

Percy cocked a brow and shared a look with Annabeth.

“The Roman pantheon doesn’t have an oracle, and their last augur exploded himself, so –”

“It’s a friend of Lady Hecate, the Triple Goddess.”

Dead silence.

“The Triple Goddess?” Percy parroted. “I don’t follow.”

“The Triple Goddess is of the Old Religion, once practiced in Europe hundreds of years ago by the druids and magic users in general. It belonged to Albion, a land of five kingdoms, before it split into the United Kingdom and Ireland.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Nico said.

“All those years ago, in the middle ages, after the golden age of the Greek pantheon, the Old Religion became very popular in Albion. Magic was something that anyone could practice even if they weren’t born with the innate talent, with the proper training. Through the ages, though, the religion declined, and the New Religion rose and became the staple. While the Old Religion relied on the magic of the land, sea, and sky; the New Religion relied on your inner magical core, and so not everyone could do this new magic.”

Chiron shifted in his wheelchair and pulled out a small stack of photos, but when he tossed them onto the ping pong table, the demigods saw that they held moving pictures.

In one photo, it showed a person standing over a boiling cauldron, on the wooden table beside them, old parchment with a quill that moved by itself, writing on the paper. The picture moved slightly, the character stirring the cauldron. Then the animated picture reset and repeated.

In another photo, two persons stood facing each other, holding purposefully shaped wooden sticks, pointing them at each other. Bright lights exploded from the tips of the sticks, and their robes and hair swayed with strong winds.

In the last photo, a person was wearing a uniform of sorts, with a helmet and pads on their knees and elbows. They held an old broomstick between their knees, and metal hinges held on the back close to the bristles, like a hitch for the feet. In the picture, the person grabbed onto the end of the broomstick and shot into the air, like magic. It gave image to the stereotype of witches flying on brooms in the night.

“The Old Religion died out because the land lost its magic. Only select spots held magical creatures and natural magic. Magic was only preserved through the New Religion, and those who practiced the New Religion became witches and wizards. The lot of them went into hiding and created their own society – the wizarding world.”

“In today’s day and age, magic is passed down through genetics. And sometimes, those with magic cores can be born to those with no magic at all. The population of magic users stays stable, and there is balance in the world of magic …” Chiron winced. “Mostly.”

“But these people have lost contact with the Triple Goddess. They no longer worship or prayer to her. They rely solely on their own magic, not what comes naturally from the land, like in the Old Religion. And recently, war has passed for them. The Second Wizarding War ended four months ago. And this has severely depleted their resources and magic. There is a school for the magic users, used as the stronghold during the war, and now the wizarding world’s hero is returning to finish his studies.”

“His moniker is ‘The Boy Who Lived,’ and he’s called Harry Potter. But he was only a child – is only a child. He and his peers are children who have been used to fight a war that they shouldn’t have had to fight.” Chiron looked very grim.

Percy bitterly sank back in his seat.

“We were kids, too.”

Chiron sighed. “This war has thrown the balance of magic out of whack. The natural magic has been depleted for too long, and there are those who are actively tipping the balance to sabotage the magic for their own gain. It’s suspected that the dark forces from the war – Death Eaters – are still operating in the shadows. It is because of this that the Triple Goddess has called upon you as heroes to help restore the wizarding world and save magic.”

“You would only be obligated to attend the school of Hogwarts until you uncovered the source of oppression over magic, so the Death Eaters can be caught and restrained. If you choose to accept, of course.”

Percy eyed him sharply. “You say that as if we have a choice.”

Chiron pursed his lips. “Despite what you think, yes, you do.”

“But this is from a whole other pantheon,” Nico said. “A group of magical people who don’t even believe in the goddess who brought about their magic. Why do we have to fix this?”

More silence.

Chiron looked down on them unapologetically.

Percy shifted uncomfortably, looking over at Annabeth. Chiron seriously expected them to just up and leave Camp for this quest. Barely a month had passed since their own war, and they were getting by as they were. Percy didn’t believe Camp Half-Blood could afford to lose any support or cabin counselors, even for a short period of time.

“So, let me get this straight,” Percy said. “Basically – if I just ignore the little prologue, you gave there – you want us to go to this magical school, on orders of a goddess that’s almost faded, stalk a kid, and watch out for people who like to try to rob the world of magic – magic, which they use themselves.”

Chiron looked pained. “No, I don’t believe they’re purposefully robbing the world of magic.”

“Oh, well that clears everything up.” Percy threw his hands in the air.

“Regardless, you understand what’s being asked. This is a quest, technically coming from Hecate, as a favour for the Triple Goddess. It’s valid as a hero’s quest. It was decided it would be best that you go undercover as transfer students and secretly watch over Harry Potter, the target for most Death Eaters. Your goal is to prevent trouble before it gets serious, though I doubt that will be hard, as trouble always manages to find you –”

“Wait, hold on,” Percy said, still hung-up on the quest. “How are we supposed to fit in at a school for the magically gifted? None of us are wizards.”

“Oh, that is something that can easily be fixed,” Chiron said, dismissing the problem.

“Excuse me?!” Thalia said.

“Hecate considered this quest from the Triple Goddess for a long time before coming to me.”

Percy rolled his eyes. Out of everyone in the room, he had the least faith in the gods. They never gave him anything to have faith in.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at the camp director. “And how exactly does Hecate plan on ‘fixing’ the problem? I don’t see any obvious solutions. We’re demigods, not wizards.”

Chiron shifted awkwardly. “She has not shared that with me. I have only gotten the request that you undertake this quest for the Old Religion, and that she will visit to prepare you.”

Percy felt like grinding his teeth. “Oh, so she just expected us to accept the quest. She never considered us refusing? Why can’t the wizards fix their own problem?” Chiron said nothing. “Camp is still in shambles – we don’t even have all the cabins rebuilt yet! We can’t leave, not now. There’s still too much work to do here, and too many new demigods to watch over and protect. And have you even considered that maybe we don’t want to go on this quest? That maybe we want a break? My entire childhood was prophecy after prophecy, quest after quest, serving the gods. We’re under no obligation to do this. You can tell Hecate that she can stick her magic wands up –”

He didn’t get the chance to finish because Annabeth had already taken a ping pong paddle and smashed a ping pong ball in his direction, the mutual action used to keep order in camp counselor meetings.

“BALL!” Annabeth yelled, slamming her paddle across the table.

Percy scowled and took his seat again.

“Now, Percy,” she said sweetly, leaning over the table. “Where did you say Hecate could put those wands?”

“Nowhere,” he muttered.

Annabeth acquiesced and put the paddle down.

“Where is this school anyway?” Nico asked. He frowned. “And Hogwarts? What kind of name is that?”

“It resides in Scotland, its exact location unknown and hidden by powerful magic. Outside of the school, which is an ancient and famous monument for the wizarding world, there are other magical establishments. One place you will be required to visit is Diagon Alley, a wizarding market. That’s where you’ll collect your resources for going undercover at school.”

“Again, you’re saying all this like we’ve agreed to go,” Percy mumbled.

He was ignored. Thalia raised her hand, her features etched with confusion. “Okay, I hate to be the one to say it – but how are we supposed to blend in with wizards and witches? We can’t use magic, and we know nothing about their world.”

Chiron admitted he didn’t know how Hecate would find ways around the problems. “She has informed me that, only once the quest is accepted, will she come and discuss the details. In fact, she should be arriving any moment –”

What happened next could not have been anymore dramatic.

There was a blinding flash of light – the glow filling the entire room – and it forced the demigods to cover their eyes lest they go blind from laying eyes upon a god’s true form.

All eyes landed on the goddess, technically titaness.

Hecate appeared as a tall, thin woman. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a kekryphalos, the shining coil twisting and adorned with intricate gems and metals. Loose strands of hair framed her sickly pale face, which held sharp chartreuse yellow eyes. She wore a dark chiton robe that draped over her thin figure, and it seemed to ripple like a heat hallucination, like ink spilling off to the ground.

At her feet, she was accompanied by a black Labrador retriever and a polecat.

The demigods all stood as one and politely bowed, as was common for all gods. Percy glared up through his bow as he followed reluctantly.

“Rise, my young heroes.” The goddess’ voice was smooth and rich. She sounded monotone. “You have done more than enough to prove your worth to me, and for that, I know that I can trust you. I have called you four here on special request from the Triple Goddess, who has observed your acts of heroics. She believes you can save the wizarding world, her beloved kin, and magics.”

“You will use the ways of the Old Religion to learn magics and go undercover. As demigods, you already have magical cores. They just need to be trained; refined.”

Percy scowled.

“And will the oh-so-gracious Triple Goddess be visiting us herself?”

Annabeth shot him a scathing look.

“Percy!” She hissed.

Hecate eyed Percy again, as if reappraising him. “No,” she said, after a tense silence. “You will be sent to get your wands from one who still practices the Old Religion and can pair you with an appropriate wand. Your cover stories are fabricated and with the wandmaker. The Triple Goddess does not appear without dire need.”

“Her entire world being in trouble seems pretty dire to me,” Percy muttered under his breath.

Annabeth elbowed him harshly.

Hecate narrowed her eyes.

“This,” she said, pulling a laminated piece of paper out of thin air, “is called a portkey. It is an enchanted item; when touched by the intended people, or random persons, it can magically teleport you to a predetermined location.”

She held it out to demigods.

On it, in fancy letters, it read: Littletree Farms, Dorchester, Boston, Massachusetts.

“Touch this, all at once, and you will have accepted the quest.”

Chiron gave them an encouraging nod. The demigods all shared exchanged looks.

“Our responsibilities …” Thalia started, subconsciously reaching up to grab at her lieutenant circlet, from the Hunters of Artemis.

“Will be forgiven for the time while on quest,” Hecate assured. “The Triple Goddess does not ask favours lightly. This has the potential to spill into the real world; to affect our pantheon. The Old Religion is younger than the Greek pantheon, but its reach goes far and wide. The Triple Goddess is powerful; no harm will befall your precious little Camp while you are away.”

Nico hesitated, but was the first to reach for the paper. “If this is really that important … why ask for us specifically? A larger group, organized and planned, could do better.”

“The Triple Goddess has observed you, and believes you are the right heroes to help save magic.”

“But right now? This instant? Can’t we have time?”

“You will come back to your little Camp before you leave for Europe.”

Annabeth pursed her lips, then also reached for it. “Okay.”

Percy looked at her, askance. “Okay? Just like that?”

Annabeth shrugged. “A quest is a quest, and someone needs help. We are in peace right now and have no threats. I don’t see why not.”

“Fine,” Percy said, tone short. He looked over at the laminated paper. “So, this will take us where? What’s in Boston that could be so magical?”

“A wand wood farm,” Hecate said, smiling thinly. “And your quest starts now.”

Percy’s eyes snapped to the paper, where Hecate had pushed it into their collective hands unwillingly. Then the world began to spin, and there was a sharp tug in his gut, yanking him out of time and space.

#pjo #hp #percy jackson #harry potter #pjo x hp #crossover #percy #annabeth #nico #thalia #part 1 #magic percy

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beautifulterriblequeen · 3 years

Note

I keep thinking about Silmarillion, and I was wondering : what do you think of Fëanor ?

I don’t know exactly how it should be seen...

Ooh, Fëanor. Gosh, okay, let me change the channel in my brain.

Fëanor is, at heart, a Capitalist Inventor. He's Dark Tony Stark. He creates endless things for the world to use, but what truly drives him is the bone-deep belief that he and his chosen ones deserve his most prized possessions more than anyone else. And he's willing to kill anyone on both sides to get them back. He swears an oath to fight until he gets what he wants, and thus seals the doom of untold thousands he'll never even meet.

That's an antagonist. Which is not the same thing as a villain. But Fëanor is very much an experience to be survived - or not - rather than any kind of ally. Much of what he does in the Silmarillion is imbalanced, driven by emotions he doesn't seem willing or able to control. And because he's an elf among elves, and they all live a very very long time, the effects of his choices carry forward for thousands of years. This one dude got a lot of people killed, directly and indirectly, including his whole family. For an elf was supposed to love the stars, he wasn't very stellar. Our Man in Valinor was way more into fire.

The part that bothers me about his character - and this is a modern take looking back at JRR Tolkien and his world in the last millennium - is that Fëanor is born this way. He is flawed from birth, and he's just Like That, forever. No chance to change, no encouragement to be different, to be softer, to be better, to corral his spirit of fire into something more light than heat. He's just dangerous chaos from start to finish. He comes into the world sucking his mother's spirit dry so she dies, he lives his life disagreeing with everyone around him except his sons, and he goes out encouraging those sons to hold to their unholy oath to retrieve the Silmarils or die trying. Which they do - the "die trying" part, anyway.

He's a piece of work.

He was also a brilliant, god-tier craftsman. I guess that's what happens when you study under the Vala Aulë himself, who literally shaped the physical world into existence.

He created the Silmarils, capturing the combined light of the Two Trees into three brilliant gemstones in a way no one ever did before or since.

He crafted the palantíri, which not even Sauron could replicate later.

He invented Tengwar script, which is the swirly elven writing we all associate with Middle-Earth.

He crafted the mysterious Feanorian lamps, which are crystals that emit blue light and cannot be doused.

He was constantly thinking up new ideas and crafting them. Eru only knows what he made that has been lost. You'll notice none of these things he made are swords. Yet he led an attack against the Teleri on his way out of Valinor, and the Teleri defended themselves, so I kind of assume he was also a weaponsmith, trying out new ideas in metal form if nothing else.

Brilliant and misguided, a flawed juggernaut, destined to drag the entire world and countless lives off course. The earlier these characters show up in the timeline, the more destructive chaos they end up causing.

I do not like Fëanor. He's a White Guy, doing as he pleases with no thought for the consequences, to himself, to those of his family he actually likes, or to anyone else. He holds enough privilege and power that people keep following him into disaster, and then he just goes and does it again, without learning a damn thing from his imbalanced approach. He even dies thinking he did nothing wrong ever in his life. Like... Bitch.

Having power is no guarantee that you deserve power, and Fëanor is a prime example of why.

This has nothing to do with the objects he made. Those are just tools, free to be taken and used for good or evil, as the palantíri were, and as every message ever written in Tengwar was. Would the world have been better off without the Silmarils at all, or the palantíri? Would a different language script have somehow altered the world for the better? Since it's fiction, we could just decide that Yes, Yes It Would, or No Actually Not.

What's not fictional is my distaste for presumptuous assholes with a bit of power but no self-awareness, because I've already met too many of them who weren't fictional, either.

You want my unvarnished opinion of Fëanor? He's a billionaire. And I'm glad he got eaten. It wasn't nearly soon enough.

Eat your billionaires before they get all crusty, kids. They taste best fresh and plump. Nom nom.

Still here? Oh, then it's time to compare Fëanor to TDP! Because as much as I despise him, he makes for excellent storytelling angst and conflict, and vicarious conflict is how we learn to avoid it in our real lives - if we're paying attention.

I've said before that I'd like to see some kind of Oath of Fëanor effect in TDP. The absolute horror at seeing good characters get yoinked into bad deeds just because they promised? Ahahaha, horrible, thank you, I'll have some more. If the Moonshadow assassins have something like that behind those creepy binding ribbons, I'm gonna be cackling in between my tears, fam.

But Fëanor himself? Oh, do you see, that's Aaravos! He's even got that craftsman side, since he made the relic staff, and boy is it swirly.

(Does that make Ethari a Celebrimbor type, separating himself from the dark deeds of his forebears yet still massively talented, creating amazing magical devices?)

Aaravos is the main villain of TDP, as far as we've been told. He's crafty, in both senses of the word. Did he have some angsty complex family life with half-siblings and a mother who died because she birthed him? Maybe. Stars can be born from the detritus of other stars that exploded and died, so there's a sciencey metaphor there already.

Of interest: Fëanor had seven sons, and the world of TDP has seven kinds of magic. Aaravos created at least one of them. Did he create primal magics too, from the deep magic that came before? Might there be some kind of oath involved there, with the first elves to wield differentiated magic?

How about those primal stones that look like palantíri? How many of those did Aaravos craft? Can he use one from his library to spy on people who have them or something? That would mean he could already know a ton about Viren even before he came to the Storm Spire and stole the mirror. Woah.

What about a Silmaril equivalent? Are there especially glorious magical gemstones in Xadia? Did Aaravos wear them in his crown and now he's mister Grumpy Glam without them?

Did he create the original runes that diverged into all the elven languages? With his sloppy handwriting? Heh, the other elves must've been very patient.

You know... Aaravos has been called a Promethean figure, gifting humans with knowledge and skill they didn't have. But that gift was the gift of fire. A tool. A tool employed by craftsmen.

Fëanor literally means "Spirit of Fire."

In the end, Fëanor was consumed by his own spirit. He never learned to vibe with it, and it destroyed him and many others. Sounds a lot like dark magic.

Maybe the real Oath of Fëanor in TDP is one you have to speak backwards.

#asks #Fëanor #tdp #tdp speculation #silm #oath of feanor #just fantasy things #aaravos

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walker-journal · 3 years

Text

Hell Can’t Have Us (Adam, Nell, Luce, Bea- POTW)

Characters: Penelope Vural (Spellcaster-Olivia), Lucinda Vural (Spellcaster-Cal), Beatrice Vural (Spellcaster - Finn), Adam Walker (Hunter-Tapir)

Summary: After finding Nell, Adam, Luce, and Bea try to bring her home. But the even best plans aren’t ready for the Tree.

Content Warnings: Gun Use, Allusion to Sibling Death, Allusion to Parental Death

They’d managed to find a way out of the poisoned world. It was the bare minimum Nell and Adam could have asked for, not dying via something they couldn’t even see let alone begin to fight against as their bodies had begun to deteriorate. They’d broken free of the realm, but not without its consequences. Nell’s own darkened veins had begun to spider across her skin before they’d found a way out, and her breaths were still shallow and labored, no doubt some form of lasting damage having been dealt to her lungs. Still— at least they’d found a world who’s predators were easier to avoid, even if the attacks had still been numerous. But she’d been right about the hope Adam’s presence provided, had managed to gain back the beginnings of her magic and heal over some of their more dastardly injuries with it. It was still low, but it was there, and that was far better off than she’d been before. Against all odds the smallest shred of optimism had begun to spring in Nell. She didn’t know how she’d thank Adam for all he’d done, for saving her life, but at least she knew she’d have a better chance of even getting the opportunity now that they were together.

They were walking across a seemingly endless, windless, and strangely soundless plain nestled against the side of a raging and amethyst-colored ocean when she felt it, a familiar tug in her gut. For a moment she’d thought it was her reaction to seeing a flipper the size of a skyscraper jut out from the crystalline waves of the water, but it called to her once more, and she knew she’d been right to recognize it. “Adam-” she breathed in apprehension as she reached a hand out to grip his arm, almost daring to call it excitement. “Adam- they’re doing it. They’re using the sigil- I can feel it.” Her sisters were calling her home, their magic as familiar as their voices would be. As if to confirm her words, Nell's childhood and fireproofed necklace began to shudder against Adam’s chest in its place next to the adder stone, the dolorphage bone he’d brought matching its frequency. In answer a rip began to jut out above the endless abyss of this world, a tear in the universe beginning to form no more than a centimeter wide. “Just a little longer. Just a little longer, alright?” She could practically feel Earth’s sweet air already against her skin.

Bea’s hand was cool in hers, but Luce’s magic was warm enough for the two of them. For the three of them, hopefully. This was the fourth large ritual she’d performed in the last year, but no amount of practice and preparation could ever make her feel truly secure in her understanding of how they worked. She had followed Bea’s instructions, uttered the words necessary to guide Adam home, carefully poured her magic into the ritual. Her flames obeyed her, and she thanked the stars and moon for that. If anything happened, if her magic flickered and dimmed and it cost them Nell? She didn’t know how she could live with that. Sweat was rolling down the side of her face as she kept an iron grip on her magic, controlling the flow of power. She couldn’t overload the spell, she couldn’t flood it with power. More power wouldn’t make this easier, wouldn’t make the magic work better-- she needed control, precision.

As she continued to fuel the ritual, Luce gasped as she felt something shift in the magic. A familiar presence. Nell. She could feel her sister’s magic rippling through the ritual, through the portal that was meant to guide her and Adam home. She could feel her. She could feel them both. “That’s them, that’s got to be them.” She said, breathless from the effort.

Bea, admittedly, tended to do ritual magic alone. Most of her necromantic work was best done with only her own magic supplying it, but that didn’t mean she was unfamiliar with group work. Her magic wove with Luce’s easily, their sisterhood, their bloodbond making this work easier than it would be for others. And while this was easier for them than it was for other’s, it was by no means a walk in the park. Tension held Bea’s jaw tight as she focused on how much of her magic she poured into this, she had seen what happened to her sisters and Winston when they hadn’t been careful enough. Her own gasp mirrored Luce’s as she felt the first thread of Nell’s magic join them. Each Vural had a different texture to their magic, each a distinct flavor and color. Bea knew her sisters’ magics, even at its weakest. “He’s with her then,” After all their preparation, Adam had made it to her. They would get her back.

The eldest Vural dared to look up for a moment, staring at the car that was parked just at the edge of her vision. Nisa sat within there, waiting for her daughter to come tumbling through a portal, waiting to help them again. Bea wished they didn’t need her here. She would have to learn the art of healing to keep them safe. They might have come to an agreement of sorts here but Bea hated having to go back to her in need.

Adam reached up to clasp a hand over Nell’s. Trekking through dimension after dimension would have killed him already if not for coming in prepared with talismans from the Vurals, the best equipment his own family could provide, and cheating with mutant physiology. But wounds, toxins, and exhaustion were making him feel dangerously featherlight as nerves died and fuzzy blurs seemed to crawl across his eyes. Desperation and hope had kept him going past where his body should’ve given out, but borrowed time was running out.

He’d promised Luce he would get Nell to Earth. Adam tried to focus on that instead of the chill slithering through his veins.

Adam tried to swallow but there was no moisture beyond the sickly taste of his own throat bleeding. “Yeah, just a little bit longer,” he affirmed in a soft rap.

They were close. They were so close, as they stood there waiting for the rift to widen, to just give them a large enough gap to slide through. Nell waited none too patiently, a disbelieving laugh of relief finding it’s way past her lips while she shot Adam a weak and shaky smile. They were gonna make it. Against all the odds in the universe- in the multiple universes they’d trekked through they were going to escape, to be free of this literally hellish existence.

The tear grew longer, stretched far enough that Nell was certain her lithe arm could fit through it. Faster. Faster, it needed to go faster so that they could return to Earth, and Nell could tote herself and Adam straight to her mother’s front door, both of them in desperate need of healing. Leading Adam by the hand she stepped closer to the portal, heart in her throat as a familiar picture came into view on the other side of it. Bea. Luce. Her sisters.

“Adam- I can see them!” The wave of Nell’s relief bubbled into a near desperate cry, the hitch in her breath having nothing to do with her straining lungs this time around. “We did it,” she breathed, and her eyes would have glazed over if her body’d had any water to spare. “You did it,” she turned back towards her hunter, the man who’d earned the title of hero a million times over only to prove once more that she’d been right to fight alongside him since the beginning. He’d deserved to be saved just as he’d saved countless others, to realize in his own time that his life was his to have, not something to be thrown under the knife for humankind or anything else unless he and he alone was making the choice.

But it wouldn’t have been a hellscape if all hell didn’t break loose, and just was Nell was taking her first step through the portal towards the rest of her home with Adam’s hand in her’s, towards her sisters, a crack brok over the plain, the dusty ground splitting into two halves where the portal had touched down. “That’s alright- that’s okay-” Nell began, refusing to let something so little steal this moment from them. “We’ll just-” Her words were eaten by the inhuman screams of something crawling it’s way out of the fissure at their feet, and suddenly the slaugh she’d thought herself free of was appearing over her shoulder.

Luce could practically feel each exhausted, weary step that Nell was taking towards them. But, as she grew closer, she could feel the energy of her little sister’s magic growing stronger and stronger. She was coming home. They were bringing her home. Adam had found her, he was bringing her back. Luce spared a glance through the rift they had created and her blood ran cold. Nell was… dragging Adam. Leading him. Not the other way around. Was something wrong? Had something happened? Maybe it was that brief lapse in focus, maybe it was just the world roiling back against the unnatural state of being connected another dimension. Whatever it was, screams ripped through the air and something dark and cursed slithered from the portal.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Luce shouted. She wanted to let loose the flames and let them burn the portal clean. To purge it of the horrors that lay within. But she couldn’t. She had to hold steady. She had to keep her head and heart clear, to let the magic work. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to lash out at the things that tried to keep her sister from her. But, if she did… the portal could collapse. She couldn’t put them in danger. She couldn’t risk Nell, she couldn’t risk Bea. She couldn’t risk it. “Adam, Nell, get out of there!”

Adam drew the gore-caked remains of once state-of-the-art tactical knives that’d been eroded into rusty shadows of their former selves by the atmosphere and acids of distant worlds. The Hunter slashed out at the Slaugh that’d winked into existence beside Nell, the realization settling in like lead that the only reason why they could see the cadaverous spirits of rotting sinews was the swift approach of death.

They were so close. The vertiginous flicker of hope was almost as painful as the ache of his fading body.

The ground yawned open with a sound like an oil tanker being beached on a reef. The inside of the earth wasn’t soil. Adam looked down into a widening chasm of flesh, complete with oozing subcutaneous layers, cysts of pus, and meaty strands that slithered from one side of the opening of the other. Things stirred into the fissure and began long climbs up its sides, pouring out from hollows in the organic depths like maggots dislodged from a corpse.

At the bottom of the bleeding crevice Adam mistook a pale outcropping with precisely set holes for an enormous skull until he squinted to see a keyhole of bone.

The coral key grew uncomfortably hot against his skin.

Terror crept up Bea’s arms, burrowing her chest before she even had a chance to breathe in. She did not have to reach out with her magic to know what was with Nell and Adam was involved with death. She felt it, as goosebumps broke across her skin, and felt its connection to death. For a moment, she was sure she could control it, if she hadn’t been tethered to the portal. Her eyes darted back to the car and pride threatened to suffocate her, it’s greedy fingers going to drag down the words she needed to say. Bea swallowed and took a deep breath. “Nisa!” They would need her. They needed her. No matter where they were, what they were doing, it seemed that they would always need their mother.

“Mom!” She cried, hoping that the car door would open, praying that her voice carried enough. Death was creeping upon Nell again, Nisa wouldn’t let it take hold, Bea knew this. She wouldn’t let her daughters be taken again.

Nisa could feel the waves of magic coming from her daughters before she heard her eldest’s voice, and despite herself she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride. Her daughters were powerful, a force to be reckoned just as most Vural and Akçam women had been in their primes. There was no doubt about that as they ripped the world apart to save their baby sister. The proud feeling in her chest was accompanied by a spark of happiness to see her daughters working together, restoring themselves to three just as they were always meant to be, but the two positive emotions were stolen from her as she heard Bea’s voice ring out. Something was wrong.

Her car door was ripping open in the blink of an eye, and she strode towards the spell-site, the spitting picture of Beatrice Vural approaching the magic give or take the thirty years that had formed an older and more mature picture of her oldest daughter. Wordlessly, she joined her magic with Lucinda’s and Beatrice’s, sliding in as effortlessly as a puzzle piece slotting into its proper place. “I’m here, sweetie.” She could see Penelope through the portal, could also make out the picture of the man who’d gone into hell for her daughter. Adam Walker. It must be. She’d only ever spoken to him online, but he had the build of a hunter, and the look of one as well despite his ravaged state. The two of them were nearly spent, and with the eye of an experienced healer she didn’t need a slaugh to tell her as much. Their lives were flickering like candles in the wind, leaving her to wonder whether this next gust of air would be the one to blow them out. “Get out, and we’ll deal with whatever comes with you!” she commanded, as if her determination alone could pull them from certain death. She couldn’t heal them until they were here. She’d let Beatrice die while she’d been away, had missed the shattering of her daughter’s life and she wouldn’t be witness to another. She wouldn’t let the Walker boy slip through her hands, either. Not when she hadn’t even gotten to invite him for dinner as of yet.

“Come on! Come we gotta- we gotta go through!” Nell urged desperately while the slaugh hissed away from Adam’s knife, regrouping now that its surprise attack had been foiled. “We can kill it over there! I’ll close the portal and-” And they’d be safe. They’d be sound on the other side, and finally free of this place, finally free to simply exist with each other rather than be forced to fight for their lives. They were so close.

An enormous and spider-like leg clawed its way from the break in the ground, stabbing out in an attempt to impale the couple. It’s aim was true, forcing Nell to separate herself from Adam so that she might make a faulty dodge of the attack. Her bad leg gave out with the move, sending her sprawling to the ground as she scrambled to recover. It wasn’t the practiced and careful movements of the Ring fighter or bounty hunter, but the death throes of a girl desperate to live. Her movements had brought her closer to the portal, with almost a clear shot out...but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave after all the times Adam had refused to leave her. Wouldn’t have wanted to when he was as close to being her everything as she’d let a person get. “Please-” And so began the first of her begging. She couldn’t recall a time she’d ever pleaded, having never done it before when it came to her own life, not even as Montgomery had lowered his blade for the kill, but she was more than willing to beg for Adam’s.

Adam carved his way through the giant spider leg but more hungry things scrambled up over the ridge, forcing the Hunter to retreat a few spaces back as he tried to fend off the growing river of chimeric predators separating him from Nell.

A searing heat against his chest made Adam reach beneath the tattered rags of what’d once been his shirt and pulled out a key made of veiny red coral. It was shining so intensely that Adam couldn’t look at it directly. As soon as Adam’s skin had brushed the living coral, the Hunter simply knew that it was responding to the keyhole down there. It wasn't an idea he came up with, but rather an exterior certainty that seemingly dropped into his brain from the key itself.

Adam’s bloodshot brown eyes looked down into the abyss crawling with roiling hordes of demons and then back up to the portal.

Adam had promised to bring Nell back home.

Just a moment longer and this waking nightmare could finally be over. The physical therapy he’d need to recover from slogging through these Hells might take years, but Adam’d retire his blades longer than that if it meant he could just live and love with Nell.

But Adam had also sworn to protect White Crest, to keep Earth safe from the Hellmouths and the hungry things of the void. There was no way they could get this deep into the Hells a second time. Could Adam really pass this by and just let the rifts tear White Crest’s apart?

Adam glanced to the sky where storms of coruscating energy raged with nameless colors that didn’t exist on Earth. Prismatic lightning continuously arched down from the eternal storm. Each blast of primal magic warped the landscape into new bizarre terraforms, raising up mountain ranges of crystal in an instant, blinking gelatinous oceans into being, sowing tropical forests of neon webbing, and even more otherworldly forms of terrain as the entire dimension boiled in a constant state of primordial flux.

Soul deep exhaustion throbbed rawly in Adam’s bones as he longed to scream Fuck You to this final tug of duty, a last command to charge into the valley of death for the sake of people who’d never even know his name.

There was a dark thought that slithered into the back of Adam’s head unbidden. Maybe all the people who’d talked down to him as a delusional zealot and monster might have to finally get their myopic asses off the soapbox when the ravenous hordes of the abyss showed up in their backyard?

Adam snorted at the clumsy attempt at telepathic influence. He spun around and sank both knives deep into a dragonfly-winged nautilus covered in multi-tongued mouths that’d apparently thought Adam was in low enough place to just let his homeworld get invaded out of petulance. “Yeah fuck off nice try,” the Hunter spat before tearing both blades outward in a waterfall of gory purple ichor.

Everyone back home deserved to be safe from this, even if they never knew they’d ever been in danger. That’s what made a true Hunter different, they didn’t make the hard choices so they could get praised in the headlines. A Hunter's reward was newspapers blissfully complaining about trivial things and “just another day” with no idea of how close everything had come to ruin.

Everything in Adam wanted to reject the call to be a Hunter one last time, but how could he live in peace with Nell after denying that safety to everyone else?

“Nell,” Adam said as he lifted up the incandescent key on its string like a lantern, its ruby light answered by a similar glow from the bottom of the swarming demon pit. “I ...have to help close the Rifts in town,” he said slowly, eyes beseeching her understanding as he asked for yet another unfair demand.

“I’m sorry.”

Adam had warned Nell that this day would come. Had made sure the witch had known it well the moment she’d chastised him for being reckless and shoving his arm down the maw of a lamia. So she’d known there was no avoiding it. But even an end that was inevitable was one that could seldom be prepared for. Just because she’d known that his duty might one day claim his life, it didn’t mean facing that day was any easier. This was what she’d agreed to all those months ago. Maybe she’d told herself that they had time to put it off, time to figure out how to prevent this before Adam had to make the choice to forfeit his own life for the ones in White Crest or more. A part of her had always been well aware that it was a silly thought. Adam didn’t solely save people because it was his duty, he did it because it was the right thing to do, because he didn’t know how to turn his back on the people that needed him. She knew it— had known it from the day he’d helped free the tortured souls in the Ring despite half of them being what he’d considered to be monsters. He wouldn’t have been the man she’d grown to love if he’d done anything else as he readied the key.

Nell looked from the glow of the key to the matching light in the depths of the fissure, and things began to click into place. Today was the day. They were out of time. Her bottom lip quivered despite her desire to stay strong, to not make this any harder for Adam than it needed to be, unable to fully muster her iron-clad determination when the hellscape had nearly stripped her of it. “It’s okay, Adam,” she barely managed to say, wondering if he could even hear the words over the whipping winds of the portal and gnashing of the hell-creature’s teeth. “But I’m going with you. I’m not- I can’t let you do it alone.” She knew what it was to lose someone, had learned it intimately when Bea had died, and if there was any single thing she could do to prevent another death she wouldn’t hesitate to take the chance. “Just let me- I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

So she fought her way back to the side of the drop off, one last surge of adrenaline barely managing to get her to the edge of the crevasse as she hacked through prying tentacles and claws. It looked hungry. That was all she could think as she reached for the fragile magic she’d managed to recharge. Taking his hand in hers she couldn’t help but remember the last time they’d done magic together, sitting under the full moon and wondering what their future would hold after they’d been bitten by the wolf with gold eyes. She used the very tip of her knife to spill what little was left of their precious blood, letting their life run together for another time as she poured pure love and her desperate desire to still have Adam into her spell— letting herself feel the feeble energy of his life- the life that’d been the brighter part of her last year and a half before letting it go.

A glowing thread appeared between their chests, no wider than a hair but refusing to give way as she gave it a hearty tug. “That’ll hold you.” She would hold him as he dived into the depths. There was no more time. The creatures were still tripping over one another in an attempt to have whatever part of delicious human flesh they could manage to get a hold of. Again she found herself saying the words like a prayer, not knowing how to say an actual goodbye. “I love you, Adam.” She was speaking them for only a second time, and even her first declaration of them hadn’t been given in joy so much as desperation, though both utterings of the three words were just as sincere as if they’d been said to him while he was walking through the door after a successful hunt with Nell greeting him back into a home they shared, a dream Nell hadn’t even let herself hope for all that often, but hoped for nonetheless.

She wouldn’t ask him to come back. Not this time.

“No matter what happens,” Adam promised as she wove the binding magic. “I will always love you Nell.” He drew Nell close, drinking the last comfort of her human touch before the predators bearing down forced them to part or get impaled.

Two rusted knives and two pistols with very little ammo left. Adam grimaced at the irony of having first entered the Hells loaded with enough equipment to fight a guerilla war, only to be caught poorly prepared in the final stretch that could’ve used overwhelming firepower the most. World by world, Adam’s state of the art rifles, armor, explosives, and alloyed blades had been eroded and been spent in the toxic alien environments. Until now he was looking down into a chasm full of writhing masses of hungry with armaments he wouldn't even trust on graveyard patrol.

Well, thems the breaks.

Adam looked back at Nell one last time, bruised and bloody face breaking to a sunshine grin as if they were simply flirting across the college commons, just letting her fill his vision and thoughts for every second that Hell allowed.

Time ran out. Adam reloaded his pistols, gripped the lucent key and sprinted towards the great chasm’s edge, launching himself down into the hell pit.

Adam plummeted down into the horde of maws and tendrils like a thunderbolt of bullets and blades, the key’s scarlet brilliance evoking a red comet hurling into a dark sea.

That bright red star seemed to cut a swath through the hungry ocean of oily aberrant things, growing steadily smaller as Adam descended ever deeper into the canyon whose fleshy walls quavered with rasping breaths and bled black ichor. Soon that spotlight of red had become just a distant pinpoint as Adam carved and shot his way too far down into the abyssal murk for sight to follow.

But the tide of otherworldly predators just kept crawling and squirming out of the canyon like a corpse disgorging worms from its rotting meat. The masses slithering over each other in a ravenous frenzy toward the siren call of a mortal soul. The pinprick of ruby light at the canyon’s nadir began to flicker as living tidal waves of eldritch things broke against the perimeter of Adam’s circle of death.

Inch by deadly inch that that red radiance was eclipsed by roiling shadows as the sheer weight of bodies bore down.

The depths darkened as that light snuffed out. There was only the sound of the walls breathing and prismatic cracking overhead.

Minutes dragged until there was a mechanical whisper that was soft, but yet drowned out of the storm with the sound of a key turning in a lock.

The ground shuddered and groaned in tectonic agony as if some colossal machinery had been set in motion. A choir of unearthly shrieks wailed from the pit as a wellspring of vermilion light erupted from the depths. The nameless colors of the storm paled and were downed out in a red dawn that bloomed like a wildfire across the sky.

Nell’s own smile had no choice but to answer Adam’s, doing her best to pretend like he wasn’t diving to his nearly assured death, like they were simply parting for an evening or so, and that she’d see that smile again when he rose from the depths of this final mission. Because after years of fighting for their lives, of fighting to be together, they at least deserved a split moment of pretending like they’d win those fights. That all of this had been for something, and they’d be granted the peace they needed. She held him until the world forced them apart, hell and its compatriots caring little for something as inconsequential and mundanely human as borrowed time. He leapt into the abyss, and a part of Nell went with him, already knowing she’d never get the piece of her that Adam held back. It was hers to give, and his to keep.

Nell saw the flash of red grow so bright that she could barely stand to look at it any longer, but she forced her burning eyes to watch Adam as far as her gaze would go, too afraid to look away, to accept what a part of her already knew was coming. Then it disappeared altogether. There was no seeing him anymore unless she too launched herself into the darkness below, and he was going where she couldn’t follow.

The red broke over the horizon, and the hellbeasts scattered. Nell didn’t see the slaugh anymore. Her lips began to whisper the second half of her spell of their own accord, reeling the line that connected her to Adam in like a fishing wire, wondering if the bait on the end of it had been taken or if…

He came back over the edge with a revolting thump, his body sliding across the dirt like a ragdoll while Nell’s breaths threatened to overtake her, coming fast and shallow. She’d done her best to be brave, done all she could to take this in stride, and she couldn’t lose it now. They still needed to get back to Earth. Adam had to make good one his promise to bring Nell back, too.

In a move that was sickeningly familiar she used her limited magic to bring a blanket into existence before rolling Adam onto it, knowing there was no hope of carrying him. Nell didn’t have enough magic to carry him back. She hadn’t been able to carry Bea, either. But she remembered the way Nic had switched Bea’s tarp for a blanket, something warm and soft and as a last gift. Adam deserved a blanket, too. More than that he’d deserved to live.

The journey to the portal was made of nothing but sheer determination, Nell’s grunts and gasps of pain the soundtrack to their homecoming, Adam’s labored and barely there breathing providing the downbeat. She stumbled through the tear in the world, her back turned on her family as she dragged him along. Familiar arms reached around her, and for a quick moment she thought about pushing them off, some strange part of her thinking that Adam’s last embrace would be erased by this new one, as if it would wash away her last pieces of him.

Nisa’s voice broke through the silence, and with it chaos began anew. “I’ve got you, baby,” the matriarch grunted as she tugged her daughter from the hells, and Nell tugged Adam, and Adam made it all possible by saving Nell in the first place, by saving them all. She laid them alongside one another, her hands already bursting with magic as she hovered over the pair of them, knowing there was only so much she could do.

Nell’s begging began anew, too. She’d tried to convince herself that she was ready for Adam to go, that she was in control of this choice as he was. But no human could ever be truly ready for death. “Please- please mom-” her broken and childlike cries made her shoulders shake. “Please save him, mommy- please.”

Nisa’s hands began work on her daughter, selfishly beginning on Nell’s more fatal injuries as she ignored her daughter’s pleas. “I can’t honey- I can’t- I’m sorry.” Her own voice broke, wondering if this was how Bea had looked when she’d been dying. She wouldn’t let another daughter die. Nell was certain it was one of the only times she’d heard her mother apologize, and she refused to accept it. “No!” she yelled, shifting to place her own hands on Adam’s body that was more blood than flesh. “I’ll do it- I’ll fix it.” She poured her magic into him, knowing too late that she couldn’t do this, couldn’t face the loss of another. The witch pushed past the point of her meager magic reservoir, pouring what little was left of her own life into the hunter.

“Penelope!” Nisa jerked her daughter out of the magic, already knowing how this would pan out if she was allowed to have her way. “You can’t, darling. You can’t save him. He’s gone, honey- there’s not enough life in you or me to save him.” She’d seen it countless times before as a healer, the one’s whose lives were already lost despite the breath they still held.

Nell’s hands came up to cradle her hunter’s face, pressing her forehead to his as she reminded herself that she’d been strong for Adam, that she wanted to make this as painless as possible, let his last moments be the peace he wouldn’t get. “I love him,” she told her mom, told the universe as if she were hoping it might hear her words and take pity. “I love him- I love you.” The world closed in on just her and Adam as the portal faded from existence, as all the portals in town did. “You saved me. You closed the portals- you did it. You can rest. You can rest now, alright?”

The spark of transferred life opened Adam’s eyes. His gaze was unfocused as dark spots and flares of light swam in his vision. They drifted over the Vural family and the familiar signs of Earth. Amongst them were other faces. Whether the dearly departed were merely hallucinations evocative as neural currents ceased or spirits who’d become visible as he teetered at the veil’s edge, Adam was well beyond the point worrying about. His bloodstained lips broke into a smile for Bea, Luce, Winn, James, Celeste, and Nisa.

Everyone was here, Nell assured him. Safe. Finally.

He tried to thank Bea and Luce for everything they'd done, for treating him like family with their love and power, knowing how much those bonds meant to them. But only a soft sigh could leave his lips and a nod was all Adam could manage to the women who made this final mercy possible.

A tawny-haired man with a killer’s scarred muscularity but gentle brown eyes stepped unseen from among those gathered. He seemed suffused with the pure radiance of the hallowed dead, a single dog-tag hanging from his neck. Uri Walker took a knee beside Nell and his son.

Adam clung to Nell with what feeble strength remained in his shredded body, but pain was giving way to numbness. The agony of anything he’d suffered in the abyss yielded to a sepulchral peace that was worse than the suffering. Adam felt featherlight and his fingers lost the strength to grasp Nell’s hand. All Adam wanted was to stay here with Nell just a little while longer, but the undertow of quietus seemed to be ripping him away from her.

At last Adam looked up into father’s face and mouthed a question to empty air.

Uri’s answering grin was like a sunset, a moment of radiance that beckoned toward darkness. He nodded. “You did good kid,” he affirmed gently, “mission’s over, everybody’s home.”

Adam nodded to no one and looked back into Nell’s eyes. He drew close with that last flicker of strength in him to whisper in her ear.

They were private words Adam wished he had a lifetime to show Nell day by day, but a moment was all they had.

The departed Hunter placed a firm hand on Adam’s bloody shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Time to go, son.”

Adam grasped his father’s hand and let himself get pulled up to his feet and into Uri’s embrace.

Adam Walker’s eyes closed.

While Bea was connected to death, she had never seen it up close like this. Experiencing her own had not been as intense in the moment. It had finished in a moment, a glint of metal before she was gone. This was longer, if only by a few moments. Adam had done so much for her and her family in the last year. He had helped her defeat the Fext, yes, but his actions past that were far more impactful. It didn’t take a genius to look at her sister and know she had experienced love. That this man before her would do whatever he could to grant Nell happiness. He had done whatever he did for her sister. Adam Walker in so many ways was an honorable man, but here in this moment, he was the best man she had ever met. He had become something of a younger sibling to her. She looked forward to his messages, as random and strange as they could be. There would be no more messages.

Grief she had found, with herself, was as if someone sold the house they had always lived in and moved away. You could pass by that house everyday, but it would never be the same. You could have memorized every corner and hidden spot in that house, but that did not mean you could access them any longer. All you had were memories of who lived there and a wish that they were back. How would Nell survive that? She had too many people who lost their lives in front of her.

“Mom, Luce, take Nell.” Her voice cracked. “I’ll take care of Adam.” She would make sure he went home. Just like Nell had with her.

The portals had closed, Adam and Nell had returned to the world-- if life was a fairytale, it would have ended there. The monsters having been defeated and portals having been shut, would have thrown in the towel. Her sister would not be clinging to the lifeless body of the young man who had given everything to this undeserving town. Luce would not be watching the light fade from his eyes and his bloodied, weary limbs go limp into that final slumber. If life was a storybook, Adam and Nell would cheat death. They would defy the odds. They would get a cliche happily ever after.

But life in White Crest was no fairytale. And there was no cheating death this time.

Luce sank to her knees next to her sister, joining Nisa at Nell’s side. What could she possibly say? What could she possibly do? If she could have turned back time, if she could have strengthened the enchantments, if she could have created more wards-- If. If. If. But the reality of the world lay in front of her. And there was nothing any of them could do about it. Adam was gone. Adam was dead. The stupid, jock-y frat boy who had done nothing but serve the town, who had done nothing but save the undeserving people of this fucking town, was dead. She put a hand gently on Nell’s shoulder, hoping to provide some… tiny amount of comfort. A reminder that she wasn’t alone. “Nellie, we need to get you healed up. Bea, she’ll take care of him. She’ll be here with him.” She said quietly, her voice as even as she could make it. “I’m sorry, Nell. I’m so sorry.” Her voice broke and she shook her head.

The glowing thread of magic still connecting Nell to the man she loved faded from sight, and with it went Adam. She felt his life wink from existence as their blood magic died, felt whatever soul or spirit that had been inhabiting his body go with it, and she was left with only a body. Adam was gone, and it meant that she didn’t have to hold herself together anymore, she didn’t have to pretend like death was peaceful and beautiful and that the living weren’t left to pick up their broken pieces. “No,” she managed to croak in response to her sisters, the word beginning to turn into a sob. She wouldn’t leave him, couldn’t leave him even when he was no longer here. “It should be me- I want to-” Let her take care of him, let taking care of his loved ones be the last gift she gave to Adam, the last action of love she could make.

“I have to- I’m going to help.” With another ricochet of pain making its way through her chest she realized there was nothing left to fix, nothing to distract her from her new reality. After losing Bea, after getting her back...it had taken Nell more than a year to learn that some things couldn’t be fixed. Some things would always be cracked and broken and surprise you with anger or tears when you least expected it. This would be one of those things. And though the holes the departed left couldn’t be filled, they could at least be managed, and their darkness didn’t diminish the thousand shining lights of the happier memories. “I don’t want to leave him- I can’t.”

Nell wasn’t sure the words were actually discernible through the wetness on her cheeks, the blackness that was also beginning to close in on her own vision. Her mother laid a hand over her eyes, shushing her with quiet words that she couldn’t make out as the blanket of Nisa’s magic wrapped around her, putting her into a sleep that was long overdue. The last thing she saw before the darkness enveloped her was the smile Adam had shot her before he’d dived to his death, blurring into the one he’d given her as they joked and memed outside her greenhouse about semi-satanic rituals, readying to finish the amulet that would be the keystone of their first mission together— the blueprint to everything that would come after.

And so the hero and prodigal son had returned her home, and then gone on to his own.

#nellraiser #divineluce #beatrice-blaze #bea #luce #adam #nell #sibling death tw #parental death tw #gun use tw #Portal Combat #POTW

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geekgirles · 3 years

Text

Your Heart

Chapter 3 -- Introductions

READ ON AO3

Word Count: 8831

Sleep. Ah, blissful sleep. The Holy Grail Danny had spent his entire high school life looking for, and that still eluded him from time to time. That wonderful feeling when he just collided on his bed after a long day of balancing his secret identity and his civilian one, of ruling over a race whose reputation had earned him the contempt of many, of fighting rebellious spirits...To just let the tiredness wash over and slumber take him was pure bliss.

Could there be anything more amazing?

At this point Danny’s perfect day had evolved from the amazing activities normal people looked forward to ーgoing to the beach with friends, binge-watching an entire season-worth of episodes in a day, ice skating…ーto the simple joys in life, such as getting a full night’s sleep (maybe even sleeping in, if he was lucky), going to the Nasty Burger with Tucker, and just having a normal day.

But, as an aggravating sound would remind him, those days were far and in between.

Twisting around in bed, eyes tightly shut and his face forming a grimace in annoyance, the halfa did everything in his power to ignore that damned noise. Trying hard as he might, there was no turning off the volume of that obnoxious beeping. Giving up, he reached out a hand from under his covers to tap the snooze button.The fucking alarm clock; his worst enemy after Plasmius. And the second most annoyingーthat title belonged to the Box Ghost.

Stifling a yawn with his hand, he got out of bed. Half-heartedly rummaging through his closet, he picked the first thing he could find and went inside his bathroom, having no choice but to start a new day. Once inside, he locked the door and took one look at himself in the mirror, well, as good as a look through sleepy, half-lidded eyes could be. He was greeted by the sight of his ghost form’s nuclear white hair and glowing green eyes. Seeing his reflection, Danny jumped back in surprise, until he remembered the previous day’s events.

After officially meeting the Witch Queen he decided to crash in his lair in the Ghost Zone, too exhausted to return home.

He attributed not realising it sooner to his chambers’ appearance. Soon after he became the Ghost King, he was instructed to create a lair of his own; to cement his current position as ruler among his subjects, and to have a place where they could go in case they needed his help that wasn’t Fenton Works. Clockwork helpfully pointed out that keeping his secret identity from his parents and the citizens of Amity Park would be considerably more difficult if the ghosts had to look for him around town whenever they needed him.

It was also Clockwork who gave him the idea of designing his lair taking himself as inspiration. “Try creating something both familiar and completely foreign; such as your own condition.” the Ghost of Time advised wisely, “Combine things that remind you of your human halfーtry not to make it very obvious, while you’re at itー with the sort of elements typical of the Ghost Zone.”

And hence, he created his lair.

On the outside it looked like a house belonging to the neighbourhoods he and Tucker grew up in, but on the inside he drew inspiration from Pariah Dark’s castle. Only it wasn’t nearly as frightening, just lavish enough to give the impression that someone powerful resided there. But his favourite room was, without a doubt, his own. An almost exact replica of the one at FentonWorksーthe main difference being that this one had its own bathroom and a few large one-way windows he used to oversee his realmー Danny could feel at ease. And, again, it explained why he hadn’t noticed he wasn’t back on Earth. That, and the sleepiness, of course.

Shrugging, he summoned the twin circles of light to surround his body, the familiar, chilly sensation running down his spine. Once he was Danny Fenton again, he stripped off the clothes he’d worn the previous day, got into the shower, and got the water running.

As he showered, his mind raced back to the previous day. In particular, to his meeting with the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park. She was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. Even with his alter egos, both of his identities were fairly well-known in the public eye. Danny Fenton was the son of Amity Park’s most notorious ghosthunters, not necessarily for their skill or captured ghosts, but his parents had certainly always been very present around town. With their ghost conferences and pep talks, their field trips searching for ghosts around town, that one time they felt like dressing up like back in the 80’s and embarrassed him and Jazz in the middle of the Nasty Burger just because he’d forgotten his wallet…

Between his parents, puberty, and his new-found ghost powers, his teenage years sure were a blast...

And speaking of ghost powers, there was Danny Phantom. The ghost boy that one day appeared out of the blue, first seen fighting a giant meat monster. The public menace who once attacked the mayor. The spectral intruder who trashed Axion Labs, got one of its employees fired, and was responsible for the rise of the Red Huntress...who also happened to be his sorta-kinda-maybe-it-was-complicated ex-girlfriend. The young hero who valiantly fought against the terrifying, tyrannical Ghost King and defeated him, saving both worlds in the process...only to be then crowned King of the Ghost Zone himself and ignite the ire and distrust of the town whose respect he had just won not even a week prior.

The very same Ghost King who was still doing his best, day after day, to protect everyone from the most malicious ghosts who still challenged his rule. But did anyone care? Well, aside from a, thankfully, ever-growing fan club, if the burn he’d received the other day courtesy of none other than Valerie Gray was any indication...Nope.

Summing up, Danny was fairly well-known.

But the Witch Queen, on the other hand… The only reason he even knew of her existence or where to find her was because he’d found a few pages of Sojourn’s legendary journal flying around the Ghost Zone while he investigated the cause for the numerous portals opening. According to the wandering ghost’s notes, although there were several covens scattered throughout the globe, one in particular had settled in Amity Park after years of travelling around the colonies, fleeing from an event they called ‘The Great Burning’. Although Danny had no idea what that was, even if it did sound bad, what caught his attention was both their abilities, therefore his idea to ask them for help, and the last place Sojourn saw them before continuing on with his own search. He remembered his own eyes widening at the location. A location he knew from personal experience.

The fact that his messenger actually delivered the letter was pure luck, though. For all the halfa knew, the witches could’ve left Amity Park in the centuries between Sojourn’s disappearance and his accident.

Reaching his hand to the faucet, he turned off the water. He grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his lower half while he used a smaller one to dry his hair off. Then he grabbed his clothes from the floor where he put them and got dressed. Combing his unruly hair with a hand, since he had long given up on doing anything with it, he stared at his, now, fully-dressed human reflection.

He looked the same as his fourteen-year-old self, except for the more defined physique that came with daily ghost fights. At least there were some perks to getting your ass handed to you on a regular basis. The only other thing that changed was his wardrobe. It was still casual, he wasn’t going to start wearing Giorgio Armani suits anytime soon (it’d make him look like Vlad), but more grown-up, too. In his sleep-induced blindness he managed to pick up some decent clothing: a baby blue shirt over a long-sleeved, white undershirt, dark blue jeans, and beat-up red sneakers. Not bad.

He left the bathroom after brushing his teeth in the sink. Walking down the corridors on his way to the kitchen, his mind went back to his encounter with Lady Arcana. When he became king, Frostbite served as a tutor of sorts. The leader of the Far Frozen made sure he knew everything he would need about the Ghost Zone and its history to be an effective leader. It was because of his lessons that he even knew who Sojourn was! But, most importantly, it was thanks to them that he learned of the existence of witches.

And what he’d learned about them and what they’d done...it was so horrifying he couldn’t blame the ghosts for having a grudge against them that kept them apart for centuries. Thanks to what he’d read and was told about them, Danny knew what to expect from the spellbinding group of women.

Witches were scheming, often fooling people into making a deal with the devil (figuratively speaking, that is) in exchange for things their clients would never be able to afford. They were selfish: the Witch Queen herself only cared about what happened to her people, never mind two entire dimensions! Much like Vlad, they only showed interest in a confrontation or making a deal if they had the upper hand.

Frostbite had every right to be wary of his decision to ask them for help. After all, not only were the witches malicious, they were dangerous. Even if they lacked the standard ghost abilities such as flight, invisibility, and intangibility; their knowledge of magic was enough to give any ghost a hard time. And it was said that the Queen was the most dangerous of them all…

Danny could definitely attest to that. Although he hadn't seen her in action per se, he could feel an inner strength radiating from her the moment they locked eyes. And the way she fiercely fought for her people's safety only proved that. Even if he really found it selfish that she only cared for her people’s sake, Danny had to admit, it made sense, it even made her a good ruler. The only reason he cared about both worlds was because he lived in both worlds. Had he been fully human or fully ghost, deep down he’d only have cared about whatever dimension he belonged to.

Despite all the red flags and warning signs, there was this part of him who truly believed Lady Arcana (what an odd name) was his only hope. He just hoped that part of him had some kind of clairvoyance and wasn’t just indigestion or something.

“Your Majesty, you’re awake!” A high-pitched voice broke him out of his musings. Looking around, he realised he was in the kitchen and the voice belonged to Dora, his maid. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like to eat, so I made everything I could think of.”

When his eyes landed on the food served on the table, he almost had to do a double-take. She sure went all out… Before him lay a carton of milk, eggs cooked in all ways imaginable (fried, scrambled, boiled, Benedict eggs…), over a dozen toasts, a few jars of different jams, bacon, pancakes, around three boxes of cereal, and an arrangement of fruit and juice.

Mouth watering and eyes as big as the saucers set down on the table, he turned to the ghost maiden, “When did you have time to do all this? Did you even sleep?”

The green-skinned spirit raised a hand to politely cover her mouth, chuckling in amusement. “My Lord, you forget we ghosts don’t sleep. So of course I had time to do this.” She smiled at his flushing face, embarrassment for having forgotten about that apparent on his features. “But, please, don’t trouble yourself with such things, your Majesty. Just sit down and eat.”

He did as he was told before reaching out for a few toasts and strawberry jam. He actually hated toast, but then again, that was probably because the Fenton Toaster always made them way too dry. As Dora poured some coffee on his glass, he spoke up, ignoring he was speaking with his mouth full. “I thought I told you to just call me ‘Danny’”, he swallowed, “We’re friends, Dora, remember? You are under no obligation to treat me as anything but that.”

Princess Dorothea, or Dora, was a ghost he met back in freshman year of high school. The first time they met her magical amulet got him in trouble, since it transformed his former crush into a dragon whenever she got angry. The next time they met, though, was when her asshole of a brother was looking for a bride but, being too out of the loop to try online dating, he forced her to organise a beauty pageant with him as the judge. When he defeated Aragon and freed his kingdom, he also freed Dora, who swore to be his ally after that. And the moment he rose as king, she offered to be his maid.

“I know, but what can I say? My brother kept our kingdom in the Dark Ages for 1600 years. Old habits die hard, I suppose.” She defended.

“But you have no trouble keeping up with the current time’s peech pattern.” He pointed out.

Dorothea just shrugged in response.

They stayed in silence for a while after that. While Danny ate his breakfast, Dora cleaned the kitchen. It was usually like that when he stayed in the Ghost Zone long enough to need the kitchen running. Looking at his cellphone, Danny almost spat his food. In an instant, Dora was by his side, making sure he didn’t choke. “Shit! I’m gonna be late!”

With that, he quickly finished his plate with a quick “See ya!” thrown at Dora and transformed, flying around the Ghost Zone until he could make out the Fenton Ghost Portal in the distance. It was still a little early for his parents to be up and running around the lab, so he didn’t have to turn invisible once he reached the lab. Phasing through the ceiling, he was about to make it to the door when the sound of footsteps startled him.

“Danny? Is that you?” came his mother’s voice.

Panicking slightly, he dropped the transformation. By the time his parents came down the stairs, he was nervously waiting for them at the door, fully human. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” He waved at them with a nervous smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Son.” Jack patted his son, who almost reached his 6’1 height, being 5’9 now, on the back. “Did you sleep well?”

“Um, yeah. Fully rested. And you guys?”

“Oh, you bet, Danno!” the Fenton patriarch exclaimed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I dreamed I had that putrid, ectoplasmic apparition of a monarch right where I wanted him; with an ecto-blaster aimed right at his forehead!” Jack boasted, completely ignoring how his son suddenly lost some colour in his face.

Sipping at her own mug of coffee, Maddie chimed in, “We didn’t hear you last night. Did you come too late from college, sweetie? Did you need anything?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Although he’d got much better at lying to his parents over the years (a fact he hated), that didn’t mean he felt comfortable doing it. “Yeah, sorry. It was late when I was done studying at the university’s library, but before I could get into my dorm I realised I didn’t have the keys with me.” He explained, hating the way the lie naturally rolled off his tongue. “I came here thinking I must’ve forgotten them the last time I came to visit, but no such luck. Anyway, it was too late to return so I decided to crash. Hope that’s okay with you guys.”

His mother went over to place a kiss on his forehead, mug still in hand. “Don’t be silly, honey. This is your home! You’ll always be welcomed here.”

Jack came to stand beside his wife, a hand resting on her shoulder. “That’s right, Son. We were just a little confused. We didn't hear you coming in, that’s all.”

“Care for some toast?” Maddie offered.

“No, thanks. I already ate, besides, I’m gonna be late for class.”

“Then don’t let us keep you! See you later, Danno!” Jack said with a wave of his hand at the same time as Maddie said, “Bye, sweetie! Come back soon!” After closing the door behind him, he swiftly hid behind a nearby car to transform before leaping into the air and speeding up towards APU (Amity Park University). He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to be late.

Besides, he’d promised Tucker he would meet up with him and someone he was dying to introduce him to today.

...............................

When her alarm clock blared, Sam lazily reached a hand out from her covers to hit the snooze bottom. As the weariness wore off, she arched her back in an attempt to stretch and barely managed to cover her mouth as a yawn came to her. Yanking her red comforter aside, she got up from bed and walked towards her vanity, getting ready to start a new day.

Flopping down her chair, she hazardly opened her eyes to stare at her reflection. An over-sized Humpty Dumpty t-shirt she used to sleep hanging low from one of her shoulders; her disheveled black hair sticking out in disarray; a clammy, pale face contrasting greatly with the dark circles under her eyes… “Aren’t you a sex symbol, Sam.” She drawled sarcastically.

Well, things could only get better from there. Walking over her closet, she picked out the clothes she’d be wearing for the day and then got into the shower. Once she was out and dry, she sat back down her vanity chair and picked up her brush. People always said handling straight hair was easier, but they were wrong. Oh, they were so wrong. Untangling her onix mane was a challenge fit of Hercules himself, with all the tugging it required; case on point, whenever Paulina or Star had to work on her hair, they always marveled she wasn’t already bald.

With her hair taken care of, Sam slipped on her favourite tank top, a black one with a purple circle in its centre. Then came her pants; a pair of black shorts that were ripped at the sides she complemented with a white belt sporting a skull-shaped belt buckle. After that she slipped on a pair of thigh-length purple socks and her favourite steel toe combat boots; black with a row of three buckles on each side. When it came to accessorizing, Sam opted for her trademark black choker and bracelets and a purple opera glove on her left arm; Star recommended it, saying, “there’s just something so fashionable about asymmetry.”

Last but not least would be her make-up. Sam went for her usual style; not too over-the-top, but not too bland either. And so, she carefully applied a heavy coat of eyeliner and mascara on her eyelids and lashes, respectively; and her trademark violet lipstick. Now, the only thing left to do was the spell.

After listening intently and making sure no one was coming, Sam conjured in hushed tones, “Mutatio speciei.” With that, a swirly mist enveloped her head and, where once were her back-length inky locks framing her face, was now a different hairstyle. While the right side of her face remained the same, her left side was shaved with purple undertones, a tiny green ponytail in a purple scrunchie sticking out. Her lavender eyes had been replaced by a pair of hazel ones, and due to her hairdo, the two orbital piercings decorating her lower lobe were visible.

Satisfied with her look, she stood up from her chair, closed the door behind her, and descended the stairs to her kitchen. Yes, her kitchen. Not the one at the clan’s manor. While the large mansion located at 917 Maple Street, which the citizens of Amity Park believed to be an abandoned townsend place that could be rented for Halloween (they had to get funds from somewhere), served as her coven’s headquarters, training grounds, and shelter, the relatively lavish home in the upper class part of town was when she was raised.

In fact, every single witch had a house outside of the manor, for it was crucial to keep their identities hidden. Since having purple eyes and ebony hair was a huge giveaway of her real identity, Sam had to perform that one simple shapeshifting spell to make sure nobody ever recognised her. And now that Danny Phantom had seen her face, even if he didn’t know her real identity, all the more reason to be careful.

After her talk with the king of the Ghost Zone, Sam was almost tempted to think he was someone she could trust. Almost. Even with the explanation of their worlds depending on each other to exist, the Witch Queen still didn’t cross out the possibility of having been lied to. Phantom was known for being capable of anything if it saved the day. And lying to the leader of a tribe of magic users was sure to be nothing for him.

Even if he’d seen a lot less arrogant than he gave the impression of whenever he battled a rogue ghost, with all those puns and the constant taunting, he acted rather...humble towards her. He didn’t even show signs of animosity until she tested the waters and sneered at his kind. But that didn’t mean she was going to let her guard down around him anytime soon. If there was one thing dating that lying, good-for-nothing, Hungarian wannabe had taught her, it was that when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was.

After setting a carton of soy milk, a bowl with cereal and an apple down on the kitchen table, she sat down on her chair. Her dad, Jeremy Manson, read the newspaper with a steaming mug of black coffee beside him. Registering movement from the corner of his eyes, he lowered the paper. “Good morning, Sammy. Did you sleep well?”

Sam sent her dad a small smile. “Yes, Dad. How ‘bout you?”

Jeremy lifted a shoulder up, a nonchalant expression on his face. “Oh, you know… Same all, same all. It’s a bit harder to sleep when your mother’s away, planning events. But that’s how it is, isn’t it? While I oversee the company, she takes care of the social gatherings. We’re a great team like that.” He stated proudly.

“Yeah. You sure are…” Sam commented despondently. She didn’t have the heart to see what being married to a witch meant for her dad. Even though Jeremy was a true Manson, being Ida’s only child, the fact that he was a man meant he had little to no affinity to magic, and therefore, he could never be a part of their clan. The closest he got was marrying Pamela, a witch from a lesser family he somehow fell in love with. Neither Sam nor her Grandma put it past her that she’d been purposely hunting him down, since not only was he the Queen’s son, but Ida’s own father had been a successful and wealthy inventor.

Her Grandma often told her the main reason she accepted her mother was because she, somehow, made her dad happy and she’d given her the most wonderful granddaughter anyone could ask for.

Grandma Ida, on her part, always did her best to show her son how much she loved him, but their circumstances made it very difficult for them to spend time together; especially because Jeremy didn’t even know his mother was a witch. And neither did any other man involved with a woman from their clan, for that matter.

Being part of a secret, women-only tradition made it very difficult for them to have normal lives. It was imperative that the coven never died, which meant they needed children. There were only two ways of doing so: either a witch went downtown in search of a one-night-stand during her fertile days, or she used her civilian identity to start a family. The latter alternative also meant she’d have to protect herself and her children from a possible betrayal, hence, there was a special spell designed to keep their husbands in the dark when it came to their wives and daughters’ activities. In the worst case scenario, that is to say, that they’d been caught doing something suspicious or even performing magic, their partner was bound to forget all about it.

That was the reason why her dad thought Pamela was out planning social events for the sake of the company when, half of the time, she was actually in the manor. It was also the reason why he never commented on the way his daughter’s appearance would constantly change in ways it shouldn’t.

“I like what you’ve done to your hair.” He suddenly said, before taking a gulp of his coffee. “Did you use that new eco-friendly shampoo you wanted to try?”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at the way his father, who was incapable of remembering or realising certain things due to a spell, never failed to realise others. Especially if it concerned her. “Yeah. It’s got passion fruit, blackberries, and I don’t know what else.”

“Well, I like it!”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Jeremy started, giving his daughter his full attention with a soft smile on his face, “since your mother said she’d be busy next Saturday, what do you say we go check out that new vegetarian restaurant you wanted to try out, um?”

Sam’s entire face lit up at that. “Are you serious?”

The blond man chuckled at his daughter’s child-like excitement; it’d been too long since the last time he saw it, “Yes, why not? I’m free that day and you’re always saying how much you want to go. So, what do you say? Do you have any extracurricular activities planned?”

‘Extracurricular activities.’ That was what she and her mother said whenever they talked about her role as the Witch Queen around the house. “I think I’m free, too. Sounds great, Dad.” The young woman smiled at her father warmly.

It was ironic, she couldn’t help but think. Due to all her responsibilities now and growing up, Sam never got to spend much time with her father; she was always near Pamela or her grandma. And yet, she was much closer to him, who actually made an effort to understand and encourage her interests ーespecially if Pamela wasn’t aroundー, than her mother. Then again, perhaps it was precisely because they weren’t together often that she was closer to him. Maybe she’d feel as suffocated around him otherwise.

After all, wasn’t that what people always said? ‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder’?

“Got any plans for today, Sammy?”

“Oh, you know, same as always. Go to class, pay attention in class, go to the library, my...extracurricular activities,” she coughed nervously at that, “come back home, and repeat.” Taking a bite of her apple, her eyes suddenly widened as she remembered something important. “Shit, I almost forgot! Today I agreed to meet up with a friend and someone he wants to introduce me to!”

Sam facepalmed herself. How could she have forgotten about that?!

“First of all, language.” Jeremy admonished her lightly. “And second, then I guess your day won’t be the ‘same as always’ after all.”

The raven-haired girl snorted at her dad’s sense of humour. Dad jokes. They weren’t her cup of tea, preferring witty remarks and dark humour, but they did the trick. Sometimes. “I guess not, Dad.”

“And who’re you meeting up with, kiddo?”

“Oh, my friend Tucker. I don’t think you know him because we mostly hang out at campus. Last week he came to me to ask me for a favour.”

“What sort of favour?” The blond middle-aged man raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

“He wants to introduce me to a friend of his. Apparently, he’s writing a paper on a subject I know quite a lot of.” She was just surprised there were classes teaching her subject of expertise that she wasn’t already a member of.

“His friend’s writing a paper on environmental law? Then you probably know them already!” Jeremy stated, setting his newspaper down.

“Dad, I’m in college, not high school, remember?” She sent him an amused look. “Even in regular classes there’s tons of people I don’t even know the names of.” Sam was tempted to tell him Tucker’s friend was probably not writing about environmental law, either, but she held her tongue. Better play along.

“Well, have a nice day anyway, honey.” He pointed at the clock hanging from the wall with a knowing smirk. “You should hurry up, too.”

Following the direction his thumb pointed at, Sam barely held herself back from cursing again. Eating the remaining food in a couple of large bites, she lunged herself out of the house the moment she grabbed her purple, spider-shaped backpack from a nearby chair. Once outside, she slid her arms through the straps before adjusting them. And with that, she ran to the nearest bus stop.

She couldn’t be late.

...................

“Did you have fun last night?”

The bespectacled young man watched as his best friend all but threw himself face-first at his bed on the other side of their room. A groan was all he received as a response. With a sigh, he set his tablet down on the table, directing his full attention to the exhausted half-ghost in front of him. “Could you please repeat that? My Groan-ish is a bit rusty.”

With great effort, Danny rose his head from his pillow, shooting a tired glare at Tucker. “Not in the mood, Tuck.”

“I’m gonna take that as a ‘no’”. He said before getting up from his chair to grab a mug and pour Danny some coffee. An intense espresso with no milk or sugar. Just like the dolt was addicted to.

Their room was an average one. Two beds, each on either side of the room; a kitchenette as you opened the door to step inside whose only appliances they used were the fridge and the microwave, both college students being way too dangerous to be trusted with their daily food. Each of them had a little, wooden desk on their respective side to work on projects and study, and in the middle of the room was a modest table where they ate.

When they first stepped foot in, he and Danny knew the room would undergo some major changesーor as big as the campus’ rules would allow. As time went by, though, only Tucker’s side looked almost identical to his own room back home. But since Danny often ended up crashing in his lair in the Ghost Zone or back at Fenton Works, that was to be expected. Case on point, while Tucker’s side was filled to the brim with screens, computer parts, wires, and the occasional top secret ghost-hunting project; Danny’s only way of telling there’d been some kind of change since they first got the room were his clothes in his drawers, and the occasional space and rock band poster on the wall. Other than that, it couldn’t be any more impersonal.

When he offered the mug to him, Danny snatched it from his hands like a dehydrated man in the middle of the desert would snatch a water bottle. “Correction: I’m gonna take that as ‘rough night doesn’t even begin to cover it.’”

“You have no idea…” Danny said in between gulps of caffeinated goodness. “Remind me again why I thought organising a meeting with the Witch Queen on a Sunday, knowing full well I had several killer classes the next day, was a good idea?”

“Probably because the rest of your week was booked anyway.” Tucker replied offhandedly as he grabbed his chair and got it closer to Danny’s bed. Spinning it around so its back was facing his best friend, he flopped down, a smirk on his face. “Speaking of, how was it? Was the Witch Queen as much of an old troll as we suspected?”

Turning around on his back, Danny rolled his eyes. “I’d wiー” he stopped himself short; one never knew when Desiree was lurking. Clearing his throat, he went on, “I mean, if only. That would’ve made talking to her easier. But, no! She had to be a purple-eyed, hottie brunette!”

Tucker perked up at that. “Wait, she was hot?” A nod from Danny. “Dude, that’s awesome! Wait a minute. Are we talking about Paulina-from-high-school hot, or regular hot?”

“Believe me, there was nothing regular about her.”

“So she was Paulina-from-high-school hot.”

“No, they’re completely different. Lady Arcana ーyeah, that’s her name. Don’t give me that look; I’m not the one who came up with it!ー has the kind of looks that come with a warning sign: ‘you can look, but if you so much as lay a finger on me, you’re dead.’”

“Okay,” Tucker drawled, “So, again, she’s basically Paulina-from-high-school hot.”

Danny shook his head. Tucker wasn’t there, so of course he wouldn’t get it. “No. If you got on her bad side, Paulina would throw the football team at you. Lady Arcana looked like she could kill you with her bare hands.”

The technophiliac tapped his finger against his chin pensively, registering the new information. “I see, so she was drop-dead gorgeous, but in a literal sense.”

“Are her looks all you’re going to fixate on?” Danny asked flatly, before conceding, “But yes, that is a more accurate way to describe her.”

Seeing as his friend was having none of it, Tucker limited himself to raising his palms up in a placating manner. “Sorry, dude. Just trying to dissipate some of the tension coming off of you. Serious talk, now, though. How did it go?”

The blue-eyed young man ran a hand through his jet-black hair, groaning. “Fine, I guess?”

The techno geek frowned. “Fine, you guess? What’s that supposed to mean? Did she or did she not agree to help you?”

“She did.” Danny nodded, but the uneasy expression didn’t leave his face.

Now it was Tucker who wasn’t having none of it. “So? Come on, man! Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?”

“I don’t know. Frostbite has warned me several times now that asking the witches for help might bite me in the ass...Not with those exact words, of course, but you get the idea.” He elaborated as he repositioned himself on the bed until he was seated on it and facing Tucker.

“So you’re afraid that might happen now.” Tucker guessed.

Danny nodded. “But that’s not all. I have the feeling I might have brought this on myself.” Before Tucker could get a word in, the halfa stopped him with a raise of his hand. “I mean, I already knew I’d be risking a potential betrayal the moment I sent that letter butー.”

“Letters,” Tucker scoffed in disbelief. “In the 21st century. Only for that I already have a feeling I would never get along with one of them.” When he noticed Danny’s withering glare directed at him for interrupting him, the teal-eyed young man smiled sheepishly at him. “Uh, sorry.”

With a roll of his eyes, Danny went on. “As I was saying, I already knew what was on the line when I wrote to her, but I had a plan, you know? If she refused, I’d just have to look for an alternative. But if she didn’t, then I would keep my guard up. But something happened.”

He took Tucker’s silence and his raised eyebrows as a sign to continue. “She agreed to come to the Ghost Zone, she and two other witches came to the Ghost Zoneー.”

“Only two?”

“That’s what I said. Anyways, as I was trying to explain the problem, she basically made it clear that the issue with the portals was none of her business and made her way to the door.”

“None of her business?” Tucker echoed in disbelief. “But of course it’s her business. If there’s a problem in the Ghost Zone, that means the Earth’s next! How could she act like she wants nothing to do with the matter?”

“But that’s just the thing!” Danny pressed. “At first glance, it looked like she didn’t know. After I explained things to her, she seemed far more willing to associate herself with me, albeit very reluctantly.”

What was it with his best friend and never making sense? “Okay, so she accepted. She’s going to help you out. Care to enlighten me in regards to what the problem seems to be?” The techno geek crossed his arms, not following.

“I was getting there!” Danny defended. “The problem is that I was supposed to go on with my life if she said no. Well, she said no, and I practically begged her to help us!”

Okay, that sounded more serious, and not only because it must’ve been a huge blow to Danny’s ego. “Why’d you do that, dude? She’d just given you your ticket out of your,” he paused, thinking better of what he was going to say, “of your second death sentence.”

The halfa just shook his head, groaning. “I don’t know, Tuck. It’s just...One second she was making her leave, and the next there was this voice in my head that panicked. There was this...this...feeling that only she could be of help. So, against all common sense, I stopped her and tried reasoning with her. And now I’m stuck working with a woman who will not hesitate to stab me in the back with her magic wand.”

“Whoa. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was fate and you two are destined to be together.” At Danny’s murderous glare, Tucker burst out laughing. “I..I’m sorry...m-man! It...it’s j-just...t-too good!” He said in between wheezes.

Danny huffed. “As if! Lady Arcana might be pretty, but she is so not my type. Too brooding, with too many trust issues, and far too willing to kill me for real. The less I have to interact with her, the better.”

Sometime during his rant, he closed his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his wall, maybe to drive the point home. When he opened them, though, he found Tucker’s smirking face. The sight unnerved him; that was not what he was expecting to see. “What?”

“Are you sure she’s not your type?” The bespectacled young man asked in a teasing tone. “‘Cause you just described Valerie, and, unless my memory fails me, she was so your type back in high school.”

His smirk only widened at his blue-eyed best friend’s dark scowl. “Shut up, Tuck.”

Tucker threw his arms up in surrender, the teasing grin never leaving his face. “I’m just saying, man. Valerie has been hellbent on vaporising you with her ecto-guns for years and that didn’t stop you from crushing on her and giving her lovesick puppy looks even after she ‘broke up’ with you for the remainder of high school.”

Danny rolled his eyes at the reminder. “Trust me, Tuck. Falling for the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park would be like falling for Vlad.”

They both shuddered at the thought.

Finally, Tucker decided to let the issue go with a shrug of his shoulders. “Whatever you say. Just don’t forget we’re meeting up with Sam in an hour.”

That took Danny aback. “With whom?”

Exasperated, Tucker rolled his eyes. “Sam.” He repeated. “You know, that friend of mine I met last year in the library? When you told me you might be working with witches to solve the portal problem I arranged for us to hang out together.”

“Okay, now I remember. What I don’t remember, though, is how this ‘Sam’ is going to be of any help.”

“Dude! Sam knows a helluva lot of stuff about the occult! Probably because she’s a Goth…” He added then, as an afterthought. “Trust me, if there’s someone who can help you take whatever the Witch Queen throws at you, that’s her.”

Danny sighed in defeat. It wouldn’t hurt to try. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to be on time for once, would it?”

“No, what would hurt is making Sam wait.”

Suddenly, Danny wasn’t so sure this was a good idea.

..........................

The You Mocha Me Crazy was one of Amity Park University’s hidden treasures. While most people gathered at the several Starbucks Coffee establishments spread throughout campus, only a few students knew of the Mocha’s existence or gave the quaint café the time of day.

A small store in the outskirts of campus, near the Law building, the café had more than enough to be the perfect place to relax, or hang out with friends. On the right corner of the store was the counter where people asked for their coffees, with a stand dedicated to displaying the day’s assortment of cakes, sweets, and sandwiches. On the left corner, in contrast, lay a small stage, surrounded by several tables and chairs, that was usually used for the café’s weekly Open Mic nights every Friday. On Open Mic night customers could do basically anything; read their poetry aloud, organise gigs for their bands, try some stand-up comedy… Anything, really. There weren’t organised events for each different artistic approach because the shop was well aware of its obscure status; they didn’t want to attract too much attention.

Summing up, the You Mocha Me Crazy screamed individuality and integrity, which was why Sam was hopelessly in love with the place. The fact that it also had a varied, high quality vegan menu didn’t hurt, either.

“Hi, Sam! Same as usual?” Robert, the barista that was usually manning the counter when Sam went to the café, asked her once it was her turn to order.

“Actually, I’ll start with just a macchiato with soy milk. I’m actually introducing this place to someone and I wouldn’t like to have already ordered without them here.” Sam corrected gently, smiling at him.

“You’re meeting up with someone?” The barista’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he hit the code into the cashier. “Have you found yourself a boyfriend this past week I haven’t seen you around?” He teased her goodnaturedly.

The hazel-eyed witch shook her head slowly with a small smile on her face. “Nah, I’ve been way too busy.” That wasn’t a lie. “Besides, you already know dating is the last thing on my mind at the moment.” That wasn’t a lie, either. “A friend of a friend of mine needs help writing a paper, so we’re going to meet up.”

“Yeah, that makes more sense. I mean, you made it pretty clear that you weren’t looking for a boyfriend when you turned me down.” Robert pouted. For a moment, Sam was worried he might still be hurt over it, but his teasing wink soon put her mind at ease.

She felt comfortable enough to joke around a bit herself. “Oh, please! You say the craziest things, Robert. As if I could ever choose somebody else over you; where would I get free coffee then?”

With an amused expression, the young man set her order down on the counter. “Here you go, Sam. Enjoy!”

Taking her drink, she threw him a quick, “I will, thanks!” and a generous tip as she made her way to a three chair table. Sitting down, she brought her laptop out of her backpack to work on her latest assignment to kill some time as she waited for Tucker and his friend to arrive, taking gulps of her drink now and then.

Her friendship with Tucker was an odd one. And by odd she meant they couldn’t be more different, they couldn’t have met in any weirder circumstances, and they couldn’t get along any better.

Sam met Tucker the previous year, during finals. She was busy studying at the library for her Law and Policy of Climate Change exam when this guy approached her.

He was an African American man around her age. Though he wasn’t what most people would identify as an Adonis, he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either, just...not necessarily Sam’s type. He wore thick-framed glasses, a white dress shirt under a mustard vest, fern green pants, black dress shoes, and a worn-off, red beret.

What truly was odd about their first meeting was that Tucker had tried to hit on her, and Sam didn’t even try to break his arm! When she told Paulina and Star about it the next day, the Latina was crying tears of joy while her blonde counterpart made sure their queen didn’t have a fever.

She had to stop him in his tracks the moment he tried setting up a date with her in a nearby grill. At the mere mention of her being ultra-recyclo-vegetarian, he immediately lost all interest. Despite everything, though, they started talking and, even if they couldn’t be more different ーTucker was majoring in engineering with a minor in computer science, Sam studied environmental law; Tucker was a bigger carnivore than a Tyrannosaurus Rex, Sam didn’t eat anything with a face; Tucker believed in progress through technology, Sam was all about an ecological agenda…ーthey hit it off just fine. After that day, they often texted each other or hung out around campus.

Today, however, was the first time she’d be meeting his famous best friend and roommate; Danny.

Sam was woken up from her reverie by the chime of the door’s bell. Looking up, she noticed Tucker, who happened to be wearing the very same outfit from the day they met, and a guy who happened to tower over him. Oh, great! She was going to be surrounded by giants!

Once they stepped foot inside the café Sam had told him to go to, which had to be on the edge separating Earth from the Ghost Zone, judging by how far from the dorms it was; Tucker looked around until he spotted a purple, gloved hand waving at him. There she was. Nudging at Danny with his shoulder, he pointed at the table where Sam was at before waving at her himself and making their way over.

Taking a good look at who she guessed was Danny, Sam had to admit, he looked kinda cute. With his unkempt jet-black hair that was either natural or a product of countless hours styling it in front of the mirror; the defined lines of his body, the awkwards yet somewhat assured way he carried himself…

The moment they made it to her table she got up. “Took you guys long enough. Did you have trouble finding the place?” She said as she pulled Tucker in for a hug. Normally she wasn’t one for physical affection, but she hadn’t seen him in over a month, so it wouldn’t kill her to be a bit more affectionate for once.

“Well, we would’ve arrived sooner if you’d told us this place exists in its own place of existence.” Tucker rolled his eyes as he broke the hug, his hands resting on her forearms. “I think coming here should qualify as physical exercise; my high school gym teacher would be so proud!” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye in mock nostalgia.

While Sam rolled her eyes with a knowing smile on her face, she noticed Tucker’s friend chuckling beside him. “Please, Tuck...Knowing Tetslaff, she wouldn’t be proud unless you came here riding a monocycle at the same time as you juggle snakes.”

“Sad but true.”

“You must be Danny,” Sam addressed him for the first time since they entered the café. She held out her hand for him to shake, “Tucker has told me a lot about you.”

“Should I be worried?” Danny joked with a small grin as he took her hand.

The moment their hands touched, however, a familiar sensation ran through their spines. There was something familiar about the, seemingly, natural cold radiating from Danny’s body; and an unexplainable wave of heat coursed through his body the moment he touched Sam’s skin.

Now that he took a closer look, there was something familiar about her as a whole. As if they’d already met. Which was strange, because he was sure he’d never be able to forget a girl with a look as unique as Sam’s.

Before he could ask her, however, Sam beat him to it. “Have I met you before? ‘Cause you look really familiar…”

Somehow, that made more sense. With an uneasy smile, Danny tried to will the embarrassed blush creeping up on his face in line. “My name’s Danny Fenton. The Fentons, the ghost-hunters, are my parents. They...appear on TV often.” Although, in their case, it’s never something to brag about, he thought to himself.

Understanding seemed to dawn on her, for she exclaimed. “Oh, that must be it! Well, Danny, I’m Sam. Sam Manson.”

“As in Samantha?” Danny was immediately confused when Sam’s lazy grin morphed itself into a nasty frown.

“Yes. But call me anything other than Sam and I will bury you six feet under.” Something about the way she said it made him understand she would keep good on her threat. Why was he only meeting dangerous girls lately?

Looking down at their still intertwined hands, an impish grin on his face, Tucker thought it was the perfect time to intervene. “If you guys are done memorising each other’s footprints through physical contact, I’m starving.” He turned to wait in line. “Come on, Sam. You promised this place had food that’s not necessarily green and leafy.”

Looking down themselves and realising they were still shaking hands, the two young adults snatched them away, as if they’d been burned, muttering awkward apologies to each other.

“Yeah, come on...Let me show you what they have.”

As the three waited in line, Danny cleared his throat to get Sam’s attention in an effort to alleviate the sudden tension Tucker’s comment had caused. “Just so you know, I’m not here because I wanted Tucker’s help at picking up girls; I really need your help writing this paper. The topic is a bit hard to find in a school library and Tucker said you really know your stuff, so…”

Sam could only snort at his awkwardness. There was something endearing about his dorkiness, not like she’d ever admit it, though. She meant it when she said she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. Besides, cute dork or not, Danny was too...normal, for her taste. “Oh, relax. I know that already. I wasn’t suspecting you of having ulterior motives; don’t worry.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I mean, do you seriously expect me to believe anyone would ask Tucker for help when it comes to picking up girls?” Putting a hand on her hip, she couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Please, I’m more popular with the ladies than he is.”

“You don’t say.” A devilish grin made its way to Danny’s face, who was looking at Tucker with what could only be described as endless mischief.

Having heard Sam’s uncalled for comment and sensing Danny’s unforgiving eyes burning a hole on his head, Tucker huffed, crossing his arms indignantly. “Okay, okay! That one cute girl did give you her number instead of me. But I’m not going to complain about not being dating material to a cute lesbian; that’s pitiful.”

“Actually...she was bi.” Sam corrected him, almost doubling over in laughter at the sight of Tucker’s eyes comically snapping open. By her side, Danny was doing a poor job trying to stifle his own snickers. “She just wasn’t into you.”

Under Tucker’s withering glare, Danny cleared his throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant. Once he got his laughter under control, he turned to Sam. “Oh, you’re comfortable enough to make jokes at Tucker’s expense! Either you two are good friends...or you two literally just met.”

Turning away from them in an indignant huff, Tucker muttered. “Introducing you two to each other has been a terrible mistake.”

Neither could help bursting out laughing at their friend’s comment. Sharing mischievous smiles, eyes twinkling in amusement, Danny and Sam stared at each other. Maybe they weren’t each other’s first choice for company, but something told them something good would come out of that coffee date, even if it wasn’t really a coffee date since, well, they weren’t looking for a partner in each other. But, hey, they both could use a new friend.

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cecilysass · 3 years

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Jackson Van De Kamp’s Not-So-Final Repose (1/3)

Read on AO3 | Next chapter | @today-in-fic

A dream café. A dead old man at a table. A message for Jackson Van de Kamp. Mystery, unconventional MSR, and family feels. It’s the post-revival Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose sequel you never knew you wanted! Act One.

The boy realizes immediately it’s a dream, but of course that doesn’t mean he lets his guard down. One thing he knows for certain about dreams, from experience, is that they aren’t harmless. Even when they are mysterious or playful, they can also be dangerous.

So he is suspicious at first, because he does not recognize the old man.

The man sits at a café table drinking a tall glass of iced tea, smacking his lips in appreciation. He waves the boy over as though he knows him.

“Well, what?” The boy plops down in the ornate metal chair directly opposite the man.

He sees no reason to waste time on greetings. The old man either has a significant message for him, or he doesn’t. Either way, there is no point in revealing anything more about himself than necessary.

The old man looks at him for a moment, a tiny expression of amusement on his face. “Huh. You’re not what I expected.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“A young asshole, apparently.” The old man takes another sip of his iced tea.

The boy rolls his eyes. “Why did you bring me here? To insult me?”

The old man stares at him, an elven twinkle in his eyes. “I didn’t bring you here, kid. You brought me here.”

“I don’t even know you,” the boy insists, his voice taking on a whiny tone he immediately hates. He rolls his head, angry and frustrated. Nothing ever works the same way twice in his dreams, and it aggravates him. “Okay, fine. Let’s say you’re right. How do you know that? How do you know that I brought you here?”

“No idea.” The old man smiles an enigmatic smile, raises a hand in a ta-da gesture. “I just know. Your father once said I was a psychic.”

“My father,” the boy repeats, tapping his fingers on the table impatiently. “Who do you mean when you say that?”

“Oh,” the old man says. “Well, I guess you know I am not talking about Daddy Van De Kamp.”

“I was told my real father was a man named Spender.”

“Yeah,” the old man gazed off into the distance, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I know. But I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s the actual story.”

The boy doesn’t think so either. It doesn’t fit with what he has been seeing. But he wants to see what this man sees.

“Your dad is that other idiot,” the old man says, at last, as if he is certain. “I know you’re probably relieved, because sure, he’s better looking and seems nice enough, but there are plenty of reasons to be worried about being that FBI guy’s kid, too. I knew the guy.”

“The FBI agent Fox Mulder,” the boy says, trying to mask his rising interest. He finds he wants to hear everything about this now. “He’s the one who told you you were a psychic.”

“Yeah. Your dad ate that sort of shit up,” he tilts his head. “But honestly, he was wrong. I wasn’t a psychic who knew things like this. Like lotto numbers, or who’s the daddy, or what someone is thinking. I was never a fancy mind tricks guy like you. I only had one bullshit skill. I only could see how people died. Worthless.”

He looks down at his drink, takes another greedy gulp.

“So how are you knowing things about me now?” the boy asks.

“I think ... because I am the dead one.”

“You’re dead?”

“Yep,” nods the old man. “Putrefying. Under a field of tulips as we speak.”

Jackson scrutinizes him. A dead man. This has not happened before, to his recollection. If he now has acquired the power to speak to the dead, it is news to him.

He looks around. He wonders if there is a dream waiter who will bring him an iced tea, too. The details of the café around them are unnervingly sketchy, incompletely filled in. There are a few ghostly, half-there people at the other tables. Jackson doesn’t like to look at them. There are some billboards, half finished, on the walls around them, advertising real estate, travel destinations.

He wonders if he is dead, too. Could he have died in his sleep? Been murdered?

Jackson takes a breath. His lungs still work. He decides to start asking questions.

“How do you know Fox Mulder?” the boy asks.

“I don’t know anyone,” the old man says. “I’m dead.”

“Okay,” the boy says, trying to be patient. “How did you know Fox Mulder?”

The old man is staring at his sweating iced tea glass, holding it up to stare at the water droplets closely in the light. “The condensation on this glass,” he says, “actually reminds me of dying.”

Jackson winces a little. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” nods the man.

“Were you, uh, poisoned?”

“No.” The man is still looking at the droplets on the glass, lost in his memory. He looks up at Jackson, smiling fondly. “Your mother was there, you know.”

“My mother was there when you died?”

“She was so lovely,” the old man said, lost in reverie. “Just so lovely in every way. Inside and out.” His eyes land on Jackson, and his soft look hardens. “You take more after your father.”

Jackson can’t hide his confusion. “Who are you?”

There is a train whistle, loud and disconcertingly close, and both the boy and the old man start a little, sit up, and look at one another.

“This is a train station?” the old man asks him, surprised, looking over his shoulders at their surroundings. “It’s a café inside a train station?”

“God, I don’t know.” The boy doesn’t see any trains, but now he can hear the hissing of a train brake on a track somewhere. “I have no idea where we are.”

“Oh, okay,” the old man nods. “Train station. I get it. You’re making this a dream heaven in a train station like in those dumb books and movies you liked so much.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do,” the old man says knowingly. “Your childhood obsession. The kid with the dark hair and the magic powers and the special destiny blah blah blah. The birth mom with the pretty red hair. I guess the attraction for you is obvious. You read them again and again and again like a little psycho.”

“I did not,” lies Jackson primly.

“Have it your way,” the old man says, gesturing indifferently. “Makes no difference to me. I never read them at all. Dead.”

The old man looks around. “It’s just interesting to think why you made things here the way you made them. Like, why am I drinking iced tea?” He holds up the glass. “Not that I am complaining. Very refreshing.”

“You were already dead when the first Harry Potter book came out?”

“Don’t feel bad for me. I doubt I would have read them anyway.”

“That was just a very long time ago,” Jackson remarks.

“Ha,” the old man says. “Only a stupidly young person says things like that. It was five seconds ago.”

“It was before I was born.”

“Well, that much is true,” says the old man. “When I met your parents, they weren’t even thinking about doing the nasty yet.” He pauses. “No. They were definitely thinking about it. They just weren’t doing it yet. At least I don’t think they were. It didn’t seem like it.”

“You can’t see things about them? Only me?”

“I can see some things about them,” muses the old man. “But with you, everything is clear. With them, it’s like when you try to get Cinemax on TV. Lots of squiggly lines keeping you from seeing the good stuff.”

Jackson doesn’t understand the reference. “They were partners back then? At the FBI?”

“Yeah,” agrees the man. “And why do nice ladies like your mom always end up with assholes like your dad?” He sighs. “If I had psychic powers that were useful, I could have warned her. Mr. Handsome will be nothing but heartache.”

“They seem to … love each other,” Jackson points out. “They have a good relationship.” It feels strange defending them, these parents he does not know.

The old man rolls his eyes. “Ain’t love grand.”

“How did you know my parents? Did they investigate you? I know they investigate, like, supernatural cases.”

“They didn’t really investigate me,” the man sighed. “Like I said, I wasn’t that interesting. I helped with a murder case, told them how people died. Then I died in bed, began to putrefy, end of story. Good times.”

“Can you still see people’s deaths?” Jackson asks. “Can you see mine? How do I die?”

The old man coughs a little, politely. “When people ask you that directly, you have only a few options. Option one: tell them the truth. They either won’t believe you or it will mess them up thinking about it. No good. Option two: lie. You can either lie in a mean way, or you can lie in a nice way, depending on how you feel about the person. Option three: evade the question. It’s really the best option.”

“You’re trying to go with option three right now,” says Jackson, understanding, a reluctant sigh.

“Bingo.”

“Did my parents ask you?”

The old man shrugs.

“What did you tell them?”

“Option two with both of them,” the old man says. “Well, I didn’t really lie to your dad. I just strongly implied he died in an undignified way.” The old man smiled to himself. “He was very agitated. The man really wanted to impress your mom. I had to get my kicks somehow.”

“How do they really die?” It is fascinating to Jackson that this man could see, way back then, his parents’ ends in a time that has not yet come.

The old man folds his hands in front of him and looks at the boy, his eyes serious. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“It’s not my death.”

“It will mess with your head.”

Jackson looks at him in disbelief. “I barely know them,” he says.

“You will,” the old man says. “You will know them. And it will bother you. You gotta trust me. I am that kind of psychic now that I am dead. Very wise.”

Staring at the iced tea glass, Jackson considers the idea of having a different, closer relationship with the FBI agent parents. It is a strange but not unpleasant idea. He thinks about Agent Scully’s heartfelt speech to his dead body, her broken voice, her tears. He thinks about Harry Potter seeing his dead red-headed mother standing behind him in the Mirror of Erised.

“You can see everything about me? Even my future?”

“Mostly, I think.”

“Am I … happy, eventually?”

“Way, way too hard of a question,” the old man says. “What am I, your shrink? You seem like you will be … pretty happy? You have sex a lot. You fall in love. That seems good to me.”

The boy nods, gravely, finding this more comforting than he thinks he probably should.

“You have sex with girls and guys,” the old man adds, mystified. “Is that just a regular thing people do now, or what?”

Jackson smiles. “I guess. Some people. I think people always did, though.”

“I had sex with basically no one,” says the old man sadly.

“I’m sorry,” the boy says, and finds that he means it. He is starting to like the old guy, despite himself.

“You fall in love just like your idiot dad. All heart, no brain.” The old man sips his tea.

“Yeah,” says the boy ruefully, who has had some experience with love already, and with it being unrequited.

“And the sister,” the old man says. “That seems nice for you. You’re crazy about the sister, your whole life. She’s around after your parents are gone.”

“I don’t have a sister,” the boy says.

“Did I tell you I was psychic or what?”

Jackson has been seeing some things, lately, from his mother’s mind, that could imply his mother was having another baby. He didn’t know whether they were real, or metaphor, or references to the past, or what. But it seems impossible. Isn’t Agent Scully too old?

“All of her babies are impossible,” the old man answers his thoughts directly, shrugging.

Like many children who have not known a biological family, Jackson is somewhat taken by the idea of a sibling, a sister, who might grow up to physically resemble him and speak and think and feel like him. Would she be able to do his tricks? Would she have his same faults? Could he help her avoid his mistakes? She would grow up with the FBI agents as her parents, Jackson realizes, in the life he might have had, perhaps should have had, and that makes him sad. In some part of him that isn’t numb to this old desire already, he feels envious.

“Is she, uh, in danger?” Jackson asks suddenly. “The baby? I am not sure my parents know about ... everything.”

“She’s not if you help protect her,” the old man says.

“You’re saying I should go back to talk to them again. The FBI agents.”

“Listen, I don’t tell you to do things,” the old man says, an offended tone. “Don’t get confused. I’m not God. I am just some dead guy.”

“Do you miss being alive?” Jackson has no idea where this question comes from.

The old man considers his answer. “Not … mostly,” he says. “I miss Hydrox cookies.”

Jackson has never heard of Hydrox cookies, and imagines they must be something from 20th century pre-Jackson existence.

“You find it difficult to talk to your parents,” comments the old man.

“Yeah,” Jackson says, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s complicated. Painful.”

“Sure, it’s complicated,” the man says. “But it’s not like you’re the first kid your age who finds it hard to talk to his goddamned parents.”

“What are you saying, exactly?”

“Well,” the man gestures around him. “Not every kid has a magic dream heaven and a bunch of hocus pocus powers. Seems like you have a lot more options than the rest of us did.”

“What are you suggesting I do?” Jackson says.

“Hell if I know.”

Jackson makes an exasperated sound. “Then what good is this?”

“For someone who is so hell bent on running away on his own, you sure seem desperate for someone to tell you what to do,” the old man says.

He tilts his head to one side, looking at something past Jackson’s head. “Well. How about that.”

“What?” Jackson turns his head around, urgently. “What do you see?”

“Nothing,” the old man smiles a little. “I just thought the pattern on the back of these café chairs looked kind of funny. Like a brain.”

Jackson looks at the chair the man is staring at, but to him, it looks like an abstract pattern -- swirls of metal fused together, not especially brain-like. He turns around and fixes the man with a bemused stare.

“Well?” the old man says, sipping the iced tea. “What do you say?”

“I have an idea, maybe,” Jackson says, looking over the man’s face carefully. “But I may need you, sort of.”

"I had a feeling," shrugs the old man. "Life is just like I remember it. A pain in the ass."

“That’s been my experience as well,” sighs Jackson.

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#x-files fanfic #the x files #fox mulder #dana scully #jackson van de kamp #clyde bruckman's final repose #todayinfic #msr #I don't know how to use tumblr #i'm trying though

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bimboamyrose · 3 years

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On The Scarlett Sea - Part 1 / 2

A ~Pirate~ Metamy Fanfic - [Link to Part 2] - [AO3 Link]

Synopsis When the world learns of a secret pirate treasure plundered from the Knuckles Clan’s ancient ruins over 300 years ago, Knuckles enlists the help of his friends, Amy and Tails, to retrieve and hide its most powerful artifact- a mysterious mirror that allows the user to become their most desired self. He isn’t the only one after the treasure, however; As Metal Sonic discovers the existence of the mirror, he forms his own crew of “pirates” to take it for himself. Along the way, he separates Amy from her friends and convinces her to help him make his greatest dream a reality- but what is that, really?

In collaboration with @mmm-asbestos & their pirate Metamy AU Merry Xmas / Happy holidays and stay well~

Part 1

There were few things Knuckles regretted more in life than meeting the self-proclaimed “World's Greatest Thief,” Rouge. As such, Amy knew she was in for a rant the minute she answered his call at the crack of dawn and heard him utter the bat’s name.

“Rouge is in the news!” he yelled into the receiver.

“Wha…” Amy rubbed her eyes. It was still dark out.

“Haven’t you seen the papers this morning?”

“You get newspapers on Angel Island?” she yawned.

“Turn on the news! This is important!”

“Alright, calm down...” Amy slid out of bed sleepily, still yawning as she flipped her living room TV on and threw herself onto the couch groggily. A news channel was running a segment on an archeological discovery that seemed to be making waves. Amy turned it up so Knuckles could hear on the other end.

“The centuries-old hiding place was found by none other than world-famous treasure hunter, Rouge the Bat. The former jewel thief was hired for her skills-”

“Former jewel thief?! Where are they getting their sources?”

“Quiet, I can’t hear!” Amy raised the volume further to drown out his yelling.

“- the discovery of a lifetime! We had an exclusive interview with the mastermind who helped find this historical treasure. Here’s what she had to say:”

Footage of Rouge sitting in a lavish armchair next to a roaring fireplace followed. “Well, you’ll be interested to hear that this isn’t the famed Captain Scarlett's treasure. It was a personal stash of journals and letters her wife left behind.

The camera cut briefly to a reporter sitting across from her. “And we understand that a possible map to the famous pirate’s real treasure was hidden among this?”

“That’s correct. I spent some days analyzing the documents and discovered they contain instructions on how to reach Captain Scarlett’s treasure. There are some hints as to what’s contained at the site as well. I’ll be sailing there with a crew in a few days!”

“Can you give us an idea of what you believe to find there?”

“Untold riches, of course!” Rouge gave a breathy laugh. “And perhaps some old artifacts- I understand she had an interest in ancient cultures,” she waved dismissively. “We’ll find out soon enough- I’m confident it’ll take no time to navigate there.”

“And we’ll be here on land waiting with bated breath for the historical discovery! Now back to-”

Amy muted the TV, her eyes finally adjusting to the dim early morning light. “So she was hired to find some old pirate treasure? Is that what you’re upset about?”

“The treasure she was hired to find happens to contain an ancient Knuckles Clan artifact! You need to get the others and come to Angel Island right away-”

“You’re mad about the possibility that Rouge will find some antique?”

“Antique! Amy-” she could hear him trying to restrain himself. “Listen to me, if this ‘treasure’ falls into the wrong hands, it’s going to be a mess to clean up. Get Sonic and Tails and come here as soon as you can. They’re not answering my calls and we need to speak in person.”

Amy groaned. It was far too early to be thinking about a new dangerous adventure- especially when they’d just stopped one of Eggman’s plots less than a week earlier. “Fine… at least let me have some breakfast first.”

“Make it quick!” he hung up.

“And they say I’m bossy,” Amy grumbled to herself. Before long, the sun’s rays shone brightly throughout her house and sleeping in no longer sounded comfortable. With a sigh, she got ready for the unexpected day ahead.

-----

“I never knew there was a catacomb under the altar…” Amy held a lantern out in front of her as she climbed down the steps.

“That’s ‘cause it’s a secret,” Knuckles responded gruffly. “Come on, I shouldn’t have to tell you to hurry it up!!”

Sonic and Tails trailed behind in a sleep-deprived state. They’d stayed up until morning playing games and were just getting to bed when Amy pounded on the lab door to retrieve them. She still wasn’t sure how Tails managed to land the plane on Angel Island. “Relax, Knux…” Sonic rubbed his eyes as he followed behind Amy.

“I’m gonna fall asleep in here…” Tails yawned.

“No sleeping!” Knuckles sealed the entrance and rushed ahead, leading the way. The rest of the group groaned in unison as they followed.

As they went, Amy noticed a ladybug had hitched a ride on her shoulder. “Aw, wouldn’t want you to get lost down here.” She picked up the small insect on the end of her finger and continued after Knuckles. After coming down a winding staircase and navigating a series of dark corridors, the team arrived in a small room with walls lined with scrolls and small relics with a hard wooden table in the center. Knuckles lit the torches on the walls and sifted through the contents of a stone shelf.

“I have a flashlight, you know,” Tails remarked.

“No flashlights! You’ll damage the texts.”

Tails mumbled under his breath. “I suppose lighting them on fire is better…”

“Quiet- look at this.” Knuckles brought out a large, yellowed scroll and a wooden box. Spreading the scroll across the table revealed what appeared to be a map of the ocean. “This is a map to that treasure Rouge is after.”

“Wait,” Amy interrupted, “You have one, too?”

Knuckles nodded. “This is Captain Scarlett’s map.”

Sonic leaned over the scroll. “Scarlett? Isn’t that the famous lady-pirate? Why do you have that?”

“Because,” Knuckles continued, “300 years ago, that damned pirate plundered the Mystic Ruins for its treasure. This map was found by an Echidna scholar over a century ago and it’s been here ever since.”

“So, this isn’t the first time someone finds part of Scarlett’s treasure?” Tails asked.

Knuckles scoffed. “Hardly. My people have been after that stash of letters that Rouge found for decades. We’ve been trying to keep the contents of ‘Scarlet’s’ treasure a secret since it was discovered what it contains- The Stone Mirror.” The others stared blankly at him, the object he was referring to having no meaning to them. He looked at each of them irately before continuing. “Really? Argh, fine; The Stone Mirror is a powerful artifact that can turn the user into their ‘most desired self’- whatever that means. Apparently, old Scarlett used it 300 years ago to become the world’s best pirate or something.”

“So… you want us to help you look for a magic mirror in the middle of the ocean?” Sonic asked.

Knuckles’ brow twitched. “Did you not just hear what I said? What if Eggman got a hold of this thing?!”

“What’s the big deal? We should be able to fly there-”

“No flying. This map is meant to be navigated by sea. Besides,” Knuckles opened the small box to reveal a compass and a crystal eyepiece. “This map only goes so far. We’ll need these once you get to this point to guide the rest of the way.”

“Let me see that,” Tails took the compass in his hands and waved it around the room. “Does this thing work? It doesn’t even point north.”

“It points to where it has to point once you get here,” Knuckles poked at a red X on the map.

“That literally makes no sense.”

“It’s what the scholar wrote down when she discovered this map!”

As they bickered, Amy carefully picked up the map and held it to the light. As it passed in front of a lantern, writing could be seen across one side of the scroll. The little ladybug that had ridden in on Amy’s shoulder flew onto its surface and crawled around. “Guys, look! There’s something written here.” The boys went silent as they leaned in to get a closer look at the neat cursive script. Amy read it aloud. “Hand in hand we sailed to the horizon that faithful evening. I looked into her glassy eyes for guidance as the sky above turned, Scarlett.”

Sonic shook his head. “This lady sounds lost.”

“Maybe,” said Knuckles, “But our best hope is to follow this map and figure it out from there. And get that bug off the map, would ya?” Amy allowed the little red insect to crawl back onto her hand before replacing the map on the table.

“Yeah, all I’m hearing is we’re gonna get ourselves stranded in the ocean. Count me out.”

“Are you serious?!”

“No way I’m getting on a boat just to get stuck in the middle of the sea,” Sonic crossed his arms stubbornly. “I’ll stay here and look after the Master Emerald.”

“No fair, why do you get to stay?” Tails complained. “I don’t wanna be on a boat, either!”

“I think it sounds fun,” Amy said, watching as the ladybug crawled around on her palm.

“This isn’t a pleasure cruise!” Knuckles yelled.

Tails’ ears drooped. “I’ll say. Sonic’s right, we’re gonna get lost. Don’t you have that scholar’s notes, Knuckles?”

“No.”

“But you know a little about what she wrote; where are they?”

Knuckles grumbled as he crossed his arms. “There was… a small fire…”

“No kidding,” Tails frowned.

“Bah- Will you help me or not? We need to get on a boat ASAP to beat that bat over there- she has all the same information in those documents she found!”

Rolling his eyes, Tails turned back to the map. “Fine. We can take my boat. But I need to take a better look at this map in some proper lighting.”

“Deal,” said Knuckles. “You in, Ames?”

“You can count on me! I already have our costumes planned out,” Amy giggled.

“Costumes…?” It didn’t feel like much of a deal to Tails, who’d just been roped into steering a boat for the next several days in whatever outlandish outfit Amy would choose for him. He rolled up the scroll begrudgingly and gathered the other trinkets into their box. Knuckles turned out the torches as the team spilled out into the corridor and followed him back up to the surface. They all squinted harshly as the mid-morning sun burned their eyes.

“Here you go,” Amy told the ladybug, placing it on a small flower. “Hope you find your way back home okay.” She watched it crawl around a bit before spreading its wings and buzzing away happily. She smiled as it flew off, pleased that it was able to make it back to the surface with her help. Once it was out of her sight, Amy joined her friends in making their plans to sail off in the next few days.

The shiny little insect flew and flew, ascending far higher and speeding up to a far quicker pace than any ladybug reasonably should. It continued off the edge of Angel Island, floating high above the land, the sea, then the clouds. It didn’t take the ladybug very long to reach its destination, flying into a tiny steel vent and into a cold, metallic fortress. Once aboard the Egg Carrier, it made its way into a small lab where it landed on a steel desk, ready to address its master.

“It is about time you returned…”

The ladybug spread its wings once more, this time flying into the minuscule port on a computer that topped the desk. A video appeared on the screen that took up the wall ahead, displaying a first-person view from the bug’s perspective. It flew toward Amy Rose, landing on her shoulder just as she descended into a secret passage.

A young boy’s voice was heard. “I’m gonna fall asleep in here…”

“No sleeping!” a gruff voice responded.

“Aw, wouldn’t want you to get lost down here,” Amy could be heard saying before the view changed to atop her finger.

“Interesting.” Metal Sonic locked his fingers together, resting his chin over his thumbs as he leaned in to listen closely. “What are our little heroes up to now?”

----

The following morning, Eggman raised a brow as he enjoyed his coffee with the early news. A field reporter was live from a marina where a crime was committed earlier that day. The spot at the docks where a historic pirate ship normally floated was empty.

“They just sailed off in her!” a frantic man said on TV. “We had a wedding planned there for this afternoon! What are we supposed to do now?”

The show cut back to the news anchor. “The historic Royal Fortune, the antique pirate ship that still operates tours and events to this day, was stolen early this morning as the thieves marooned the crew on a nearby sandbar. The criminals are described as armored and wearing black hooded cloaks. If anyone has news regarding her whereabouts-”

“Hmm…” Eggman muted the show as he heard a loud, metallic clanking forming from the corridor. Metal Sonic strode in from outside the floating fortress with two Silver Sonic Prototypes close behind. All were mysteriously clad in black hooded cloaks as the small minions each carried oversized boxes above their heads.

Eggman leaned back in his chair to look out through the open doorway. “Metal, where were you so early?”

The three robots stopped in their tracks as Metal Sonic turned around to address him momentarily. “Out.” He continued forward without another word.

“I gave you the ability to talk so you could use it, you know,” Eggman grumbled. He took another sip as a loud doorway could be heard opening and shutting down the hall. With a sigh, the old man shook his head, wondering what the dark cloaks were about. Why would they hide their identities to steal the stupid ship? What is he even up to? he asked himself before going back to his coffee.

Once in the privacy of Metal Sonic’s lab, boxes were ripped open and long capes were thrown aside. Metal Sonic stood in front of a full-length mirror examining his freshly painted armor, glittering gold accents reflecting the dull fluorescent lighting. Each of the pint-sized prototypes had received chromatic silver paint jobs as well to differentiate them from the dozen or so other identical bots that performed various tasks around the airship. They both sorted through the boxes, throwing various period garments about the room haphazardly.

Clothes were strewn everywhere by the time Metal Sonic noticed the mess they were making. “I told you two to find me something to wear, not wreck my lab!” The identical minions looked at one another blankly. One of them picked a pair of stays up from in front of him and held for his master to observe. Metal snatched the undergarment from the smaller robot’s clamps and threw it aside. “That is not what I meant!” He picked up a nearby book and ripped it open to a page containing an illustration of a pirate captain. “Find me this,” he pointed at the pirate’s jacket gruffly.

His claw made a loud CLANG against his forehead, saluting Metal before stretching an extendable arm across the room to retrieve a navy coat with gold accents that had been tossed aside. Once in his possession, Metal Sonic draped it over his shoulders and examined his reflection once more. “Hmm… A bit restrictive. H3, scissors.” The other lackey robot took the command, fetching a pair of scissors from a drawer and presenting them to his master. Metal proceeded to chop the coat up into little more than an open vest adorned with golden epaulets draped with tassels at each shoulder. He belted the reconstructed jacket around his waist and stared at his reflection. “What do you think? Missing something?”

The two henchmen examined the book’s illustration again. One of them shot up and dove into one of the boxes, returning with a tricorn cap. He extended his arm and placed the hat atop Metal Sonic’s head while the other clapped his bulky claws together.

“I don’t know…” Metal rested his hands on his hips pensively. “What are you two wearing?”

H3 and his counterpart, H4, looked toward one another with a shrug. They dug through the pile, each digging out a solid-colored scarf. H3 wrapped his blue one around his head like a bandana while H4 tied a red one to his waist. They looked each other up and down for a few moments before deciding in unison to switch their color choices, H3 snatching the red bandana from his brother and pulling it over his head while H4 made a belt of the blue one after ripping it from atop the other’s head. They high-fived to commemorate the decision, their little clamped hands rattling together as they made contact.

“Fine, fine…” Metal waved them off, glancing back at the book once more. The captain sported a sword at his waist. At the bottom of one of the boxes rested an antique cutlass that resembled the one in the drawing, but dulled at the edge. “Yes… This will do.” He picked up the weapon and brandished it ahead of his body “If Sonic’s friends are dressing for the occasion, so shall we!” he cackled. “H4, make sure this gets sharpened,” he barked as he thrust the sword into the minion's hands. “H3, clean up this mess. I have work to do.”

With that, each of the minions loudly saluted Metal Sonic before attending to their tasks. Metal leaned over his desk as the video of the heroes reappeared on the large screen ahead. He was disappointed to learn that he wouldn’t be facing his rival, Sonic- the coward had decided to stay on land. Metal looked from one of their faces to another before settling on Amy Rose’s cheerful expression. “Yes… She will do.” Metal concocted his plan, reveling in the knowledge that once he obtained the Stone Mirror, he would manifest into a form that not Sonic nor his friends could hope to stand a chance against.

Metal had spent much of the last year spying on Sonic and his friends, waiting for an opportunity when he could be one step ahead. He had grown to resent Eggman and his half-baked plans over the years, existing only as an obstacle to the heroes who always seemed to be prepared. Eggman understood this, or at least knew that Metal had begun taking his own initiative when it came to plotting against his rival. When he caught the robot surveilling the team, he made the decision to encourage him, wanting to take advantage of the part of Metal that could think just like his rival. Soon, Metal had been outfitted with a lab of his own and two henchmen to command. Eggman had upgraded him with the ability to speak and emote more expressly not long after, which Metal found both vexing and enthralling, now taking every opportunity to put his thoughts into words.

But Metal ultimately resented this as well as he had no desire to lean on his master. What he yearned for most greatly was to have the independence and autonomy to act on his own. Though Metal wasn’t disloyal to him, Eggman’s incompetence ironically prevented him from accomplishing his objective of eliminating Sonic. Since then, Metal took what he’d been offered as if a birthright and accepted nothing more, opting to source his own necessities. Everything from research to obtaining materials was to be accomplished by him personally- a task he did not take lightly. And because this was the first- no- the only time he would need to defeat his foes, it only made sense to do it in style.

Perishing the thought that whatever deep-seated programming compelled him to these theatrics was likely due to Eggman’s own influence, Metal had gotten to work studying the life of pirate legend Captain Scarlett. Metal did a poor job at hiding the excitement that befell him as he read everything he could process that regarded pirating. Perhaps it was the high stakes and endless freedom the seafaring criminals seemed to command- and what a very “Sonic” thing to be attracted to. He laughed to himself about his organic counterpart’s apparent fear of the ocean.

Then again, it was probably just the dramatic aesthetics.

The old pirate captain had a flair for the dramatic herself. Metal’s research showed that she often left secret messages in her documents such as the one discovered by Amy Rose in that map of theirs, as well as the letters that had been uncovered. Many of the “mysteries” uncovered through time appeared to be rudimentary puzzles really, it was bewildering how the treasure had remained hidden for so long. Still, he didn’t have a map of his own, and tailing the heroes would only get him so far. Metal knew from past experience that the bubbly girl was rather sympathetic. A savior complex, he thought as he studied his past interactions with her. She was the perfect pawn to manipulate into leading him right to the Stone Mirror.

The video was paused on a frame of Amy and her sunny smile. He recalled their first meeting when he captured her and how helpless she had been; But the girl had grown strong over the years, impressing even him with her combat technique. Amy decidedly wasn’t one to be taken lightly anymore, and he would have to be cautious. The compassion she showed towards most creatures was her real weakness, one that was easy to take advantage of. He played back a compilation of videos he’s taken of Amy Rose; her beaming complexion, the charismatic giggle in her voice, the tender pleading in her eyes…

None of that matters! He shook the thought from his head. What he really needed to understand were the driving factors behind her empathy. What could he use against her? He fast-forwarded to a scene of her and the rest of the group reminiscing about past adventures.

On-screen, Amy sat between Sonic and Tails in the sand, all enjoying an afternoon together at the beach. Knuckles could be heard off-screen. “Yeah, I still can’t believe Amy convinced that robot to let her go! What was it called again?”

“His name was Gamma. Honestly, he was able to think for himself after we became friends- it didn’t take much to convince him that he could disobey Eggman if he wanted to.” she twirled the front of her spines bashfully.

Sonic laughed. “Well good thing you made friends with him! I nearly turned him to scrap metal.”

“Come on, he did a lot of good before… you know.” There was some sadness in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Sonic agreed. “Hey, maybe you could convince Egg-head to do some good for once, too.”

Metal paused the video as they laughed together. “He did a lot of good.” Yes, Metal knew exactly how to get the sweet girl on his side- he was confident it wouldn’t take much convincing on his part, either.

The lab door was suddenly slammed open. “H4, what have I told you about-” Metal paused, faced not with his lackey but with a very animated Eggman.

“Metal! I just saw H4’s new paint job- excellent work! We should outfit all the prototypes with it,” he bellowed.

Narrowing his eyes, Metal turned back toward the screen to brood silently.

Eggman took a few steps into the room before continuing. “Tell me, though, what’s with all the pirate outfits? You putting on a show?” he feigned ignorance over the stolen ship and nudged the box closest to him with his foot. H3 popped his head out from the pile of clothes within with a clanky salute. “This one too, eh? I like the look.” There was no response from Metal but the quickening hum of his turbine as he grew annoyed at the interruption. “That hat will probably impede your hearing, though…”

He continued taking steps into the room, stopping just behind Metal to join him in looking at the screen ahead. It was still paused on a still of Amy looking cheerful. “Studying our heroes again, are we? You sure seem to like this one... She’s pretty cute.”

Metal whipped around to face him once again, this time with blazing eyes. “What are you-”

“I bet you could kidnap her again easily,” Eggman interrupted with a grin and a snap of his fingers.

“Get out!” Metal roared, rising from his seat.

Eggman laughed heartily. “Alright, alright- tell me if you need anything for your little production!”

As the scientist turned on his heel and made his way back toward the open door, H4 was scuttling in with the now sharpened cutlass held carelessly above him. He came to a skidding halt at the sight of Eggman, bringing his hand up to his forehead and dropping the sword noisily on the steel floor in the process. The man cackled at him, bending down to pick up the weapon and examine it. “Nice sword, not that you need it. Teach your lackeys to be a little more careful with sharp objects, hm?” Eggman tossed the sword to Metal, who caught it effortlessly, rolling his eyes.

“... Fine.” he finally responded before taking his seat again and swiveling back toward the giant monitor. He shut off the program that played back the videos.

“Atta boy.” With that, Eggman made his way out of the room. H4 shot out his arm, slamming his claw against a button that shut the door behind him.

The sword gleamed in the harsh lighting as Metal held it up to inspect. Eggman was correct, of course- Metal didn’t need a weapon- he was one. But the added flourish couldn’t hurt, he thought as he swung it through the air, a small WHIP whispering across the room each time he waved it. Metal wouldn’t admit it even to himself, but his creator had a point about his interest in Amy Rose, as well...

An alert flashed on the screen ahead before he could be forced to think about it. “GPS Tracker Activated”. A map popped up showing a blinking red dot, indicating the location of Tails’ boat.

“Finally…” Metal stood, raising a foot on his chair and brandishing the cutlass proudly. “Prepare the ship- we sail at dawn!”

-----

Amy yawned as she got dressed the following morning. The TV was tuned to the news, where a reporter was commenting on the authorities’ inability to find any leads in the case of the Royal Fortune’s theft. “Weird…” Amy remarked to herself out loud. She was tying a blue ascot around the collar of her dress- a white, long-sleeved piece with blue stripes at the hem and cuffs. She had purchased the sailor suit impulsively with the hopes of going sailing leisurely with her friends, but she supposed a maritime mission was occasion enough.

Hearing the whistle of a boat in the distance, she quickly pinned on her hat and slung her duffel bag over her shoulder. She lived on the beach and the boys had agreed to meet her there before sailing off. The whistle howled once more and she hurried out of her little shack, running toward the shore. “I’m here already! Quit hollering,” she grumbled. A steel ladder was lowered and she tossed her bag for Knuckles to catch before climbing her way up.

The boat was nothing like the pirate ship she’d seen on TV that morning. It was a sleek white vessel with blue chrome accents that glittered in the early sunlight. The small yacht was equipped with every manner of boating technology that Tails could cram onto it. A door beneath the elevated helm opened to reveal a set of stairs leading down to the main quarters. Knuckles lugged Amy’s bag over his shoulder, beckoning her to the opening.

“Wait! Before you put that away…” Amy unzipped the front pocket.

Knuckles grumbled. “Before I put it away?”

“Yes, thank you for that,” she chuckled, pulling out a pair of themed hats- a sailor’s cap similar to her own, and a white service cap with gold accents. “I figured you guys would prefer these to clothes.”

“Hmm,” Knuckles examined the headwear as she unfurled each one and held them up. “I suppose a captain’s hat would be fitting…” he reached out to take it from her when Tails suddenly interrupted.

“Uh, my ship- If anyone’s captain, it’s me.”

With an incredulous look, Knuckles turned his chin up to address him. “My mission, my hat- I’m captain. You’re navigating.”

“Oh and I suppose this boat’s gonna steer itself?” Tails said in a mocking tone.

“You think I don’t know how to drive a boat?” Knuckles was yelling now.

“Like I’d let you even if you could.”

“Alright,” Amy interrupted, “That’s enough- we have to be on this boat together for the next week. You two better get along!”

“Fine,” Knuckles crossed his arms. “Who do you think should be captain?”

“Tails,” she responded without hesitation.

“What?!”

Tails snickered from above. “Do you even have a boating license, Knuckles?”

His expression of rage quickly turned blank. His teammates both watched as the gears seemed to turn in his head. “... No.”

Amy and Tails both broke out into a fit of laughter. Knuckles snatched the sailor’s cap from her hand and stomped down the stairs with the duffel bag, grumbling choice words under his breath. “Here you go,” she tossed the captain’s hat up to Tails.

“Thank you,” he smirked triumphantly. “We’re ready to go- let’s let Sonic know before we sail off.” Amy made her way up and stood by him as Tails made a video call on a tablet. Sonic appeared on it a moment later.

“Yo,” he winked. “Looking good, guys.”

“Thank you,” Amy giggled bashfully.

“We’re about to sail,” Tails interjected before she could start chatting. “Everything good on your end?”

“Yep, just me and the Master Emerald. Pretty boring…”

“Don’t let Knuckles hear you say that.”

The three shared a chuckle before Amy and Tails waved to Sonic and signed off. The boat’s ladder ascended from the sand as Tails made the final preparations to sail. Knuckles reemerged from the doorway below as the vessel began moving, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

“Where’s your uniform, skipper?” Tails chortled, noticing that he hadn’t donned the white and blue cap.

“Watch it,” he threatened, eyes fixed on the horizon.

As the boat slid away from the shore and into the open ocean, Tails and Amy chuckled to themselves, ready for the adventure ahead. Unbeknownst to them, however, they weren’t the only ones tracking their whereabouts.

Back at the Egg Carrier, Metal and his lackeys were getting ready to mobilize.

The three bots snuck out of the lab and through the steel corridors, making sure to fly to keep noise to a minimum. It was dark- Eggman either wasn’t up or was too fixated on his work to notice them anyway. Once they reached the outdoor deck, each landed on the edge for a moment, H3 and H4 awaiting commands. “We will stay off their radar by remaining some distance away, and intercept them at this first meeting spot,” Metal explained. “But we need to catch up. Now, to the ship!”

But before he could lift off, a mechanical squeaking caught Metal’s attention from behind. He turned his vision to the distraction, claws outstretched in case someone was trying to stop him. His gaze was met by that of another Silver Sonic Prototype, who then imitated the awkward saluting motion the other two greeted their masters with. Metal narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously but lowered his guard. “What is the meaning of this?”

The small robot seemed to pull a yellow bandana from out of nowhere and quickly tied it below his muzzle, looking back up at Metal Sonic with his permanent sly grin. Metal scratched his chin pensively. “You wish to join us?” The prototype’s joints squeaked as it bobbed its head quickly and violently, causing Metal to slap his hand atop it like he was hitting a switch. “Enough! You’ll alert the others. Hm… State your serial number.” He lifted his right foot to reveal a string of numbers written on the sole, the last of which were “H1.”

“Ah, the very first…” Metal processed the unexpected interruption for a moment. He didn’t know how the robot had discovered his intentions, but there wasn’t much time to lose. At this point taking the additional support with him would at least keep word from getting to Eggman if H1 made a fuss. Metal supposed he could just deactivate him and toss him overboard, but…

“Very well, you may join me... But your outfit needs work. I’ll brief you on the ship- move!”

H1 threw its hands in the air with excitement, the four of them taking off. Metal Sonic lead the charge to the ship anchored about a mile away as they shot down through the high clouds.

-----

“Are we there yet?” Amy groaned from a lounge seat on the upper deck. The excitement from that morning had slowly turned to a boring exhaustion as the day dragged on. It was impossibly hot- the sun’s rays intensified by the inescapable humidity. The sun would be setting in another hour and they’d all been up since dawn, but Amy was the wariest.

“You know this is gonna take days, right?” Tails yawned. He had joined her on the deck while the boat was on auto-pilot, not intending to change direction for some time.

“I thought this first place was supposed to be close…”

“Yeah, it’s only a 12-hour boat ride,” he shrugged sarcastically. “But who knows how far the actual treasure is?”

“You two need to stop your belly-aching, you’re already getting on my nerves.” Knuckles was seated cross-legged on the roof of the helm. The others were sure he’d bake to death.

“Easy for you to say, all you do all day is sit around!” Amy huffed.

Tails checked his tablet, which he’d equipped with a navigator. “We’re actually pretty close… We’ll be coming up on these coordinates in about 20 minutes.”

Amy stretched her arms in an attempt to liven herself up. “Great! Then we have to figure out this weird puzzle…”

“I’m sure it’ll be obvious once we’re there,” said Knuckles. Tails couldn’t help but think he sounded awfully confident for someone who had no idea how to navigate.

“Hey, what is that…?” Tails hurried to take a pair of binoculars from his equipment and ran to the bow, staring into the horizon. The others listened in, Amy sitting up in the chair and squinting her eyes ahead. “Uh, there’s another boat over there… a big one.” The team all scrambled to the front of the boat, trying to look through the binoculars at once. A bright white ship could be seen in the distance- at least three times the size of Tail’s boat but just as modern. As they inched closer, some of the crew could be seen pacing around the main deck.

“Give me those,” Knuckles snatched away the binoculars for himself, zooming in on the ship’s bow as close as he could get them to focus. “You have got to be kidding me…”

“Rouge.” The woman he considered his arch-rival was sauntering about the bow of her ship, the stitched-together map in hand as she conversed with some crewmates. Two men each lugging a huge camera over their shoulder stood on either side of them. Amy and Tails groaned upon hearing Knuckles utter her name with disdain, knowing the squabbling that would come next. He watched as she squinted in the direction of their boat once they were in view of one another.

Tails brought his vessel in close to her ship, which towered above theirs. Rouge had to lean over the side railing to look down at the team. “Oh my, what is it you want?” she frowned.

Knuckles raised a foot to rest on a railing of his own. “We’re after Scarlett’s treasure, and you’re in our way.”

“I mean, they’re not really in our way,” Tails grumbled. “Can you take your foot down from there?”

“Quiet,” Knuckles held a palm up to him, chin still pointed up at Rouge.

One of the cameramen leaned over next to her, pointing his recording device directly at Knuckles. Rouge continued with a smirk. “It looks like we have some competition- not that they stand a chance at finding it before I do.”

Knuckles squinted. “What’s with the cameras?”

“Cameras?” Amy skipped over next to him and waved up at the ship. “Are you guys making a movie?”

“A documentary,” Rouge nodded. “And you look so cute. What do you think of this?” Rouge batted her wings and flew up to hover just above the railing, the camera following her as she did. She wore a brocade bustier over a lacey flared-sleeve linen blouse and fitted black trousers tucked into leather boots. She looked like a true pirate.

“Oh,” Amy beamed, “Gorgeous!”

Knuckles raised his voice as his vexation grew. “What the hell is happening? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Aesthetic,” she shrugged. “And how did you find this place, anyway? Are you tracking us?”

“I’ll have you know that treasure you’re after contains sacred Knuckles Tribe artifacts, and we have Captain Scarlett’s original map.” Knuckles crossed his arms confidently.

“No kidding?” Rouge pouted. “Well, good luck- we’ve been here for hours and can’t figure out where we’re supposed to go from here.”

“Typical!” Knuckles shot back.

“Hmph- If you’re so knowledgeable, hotshot, let’s see you navigate from here!” Rouge flew off out of sight with the cameraman on her heels.

“Whatever-” Knuckles marched up to the helm where Tails had already begun studying the map. “So... where do we go from here?”

“Beats me…” he shrugged.

“Are you serious?”

Amy joined them, picking up the crystal eyeglass and bringing it to her eye. She expected it to magnify things, but it didn’t appear to be a telescope. “Well, this has to have something to do with it. Hmm…”

“Don’t forget the compass.” Tails brought it up to eye-level. “It’s pointing south by south-west. Weird.”

“What did the map say again?”

Tails held it up to the light, reading aloud. “‘Hand in hand we sailed to the horizon that faithful evening. I looked into her glassy eyes for guidance as the sky above turned, Scarlett.’ Whatever that means…”

“‘Sky above turned’... Like, turned to night?” Amy raised the eyepiece up high. The soft blue sky turned an intense shade of cobalt when viewed through the glass. “Ohhh, how pretty,” she remarked. “Glassy eyes…” Amy turned to tails with a gasp.

“The eyeglass!” they said in unison.

“But do we have to look up at the sky during the nighttime then?” Tails scratched his chin.

“I don’t think we’ll see much at night with this thing- it just turns everything blue.”

Knuckles took it from her, glancing through it with one eye. “What’s this even for?”

“I thought it was a spyglass, but it doesn’t magnify anything. It’s just a blue glass at the end.”

“That’s useless…” The three of them pondered on it as the sun neared the horizon. It would be dark soon- they didn’t want to be stuck there trying to figure it out overnight. Both teams were so deep in contemplation that they hardly noticed a third object approaching on their radar until it could be seen in the distance.

“Is that a pirate ship?” Rouge could be heard from her ship’s deck. She flew up to get a better look through a telescope. “Do you guys have anything to do with this?” she accused.

“Uh, definitely not” Tails answered, glancing through his own binoculars. He zoomed in as far as the lenses allowed. A lanky figure with a spiky head could just barely be made out. “Is that… Sonic?”

“What? Gimme those,” Amy yanked them away from him to look. “Hey- isn’t that the pirate ship that was stolen yesterday?”

“You’re right!” Rouge shouted. “And that does look like Sonic…”

Amy gasped in realization. “That’s not Sonic… That’s Metal Sonic.”

“Oh great, now we gotta deal with Eggman, too?” Knuckles groaned. “What could he want?”

The ship was fast approaching. Rouge shouted orders at her crew, instructing them to ready their weapons. The TV crew scrambled around frantically, trying to catch all the action. Amy and Knuckles looked at Tails expectantly, not having anticipated getting into a battle at sea.

“I got this. Everyone get close!” Amy gathered the map, eyepiece, and compass and held onto them tightly as they scurried together at the helm. Tails entered a set of commands and the boat began to separate in two, bisected vertically to make way for an enormous cannon that rose from beneath the deck. The helm was raised up and back, a shield forming around it like a cockpit. “Knuckles, cannon. Amy, be on the lookout from the starboard and stem. I’ll keep an eye on the port side while I steer.”

“Roger!” they shouted in unison.

Metal Sonic’s ship approached from the south, circling around both vessels as it came close. “Ahoy!” his voice came shouting out of a speaker. He cackled as his opponents all seemed to look to one another with bewilderment.

“Could he always talk?” Tails asked his friends.

Amy shuttered. “Not always…”

Rouge’s voice was amplified by a megaphone as she flew above her ship’s bow to address Metal Sonic. “Tell us what The Doctor is up to!”

“‘The Doctor’ has nothing to do with this. I’m here for her,” he extended a long, spiked claw to point directly at Amy, who jumped at the announcement.

“Wh- Me?”

“Yes, you. Now come, join my crew!” His hand closed into a fist as he made the demand. No one was more dumbfounded than Amy. At a loss for words, she looked incredulously at Metal Sonic. “Well, come on, I haven’t got all night.”

Shaking her head of the confusion, Amy finally answered. “Uh… no thanks?”

Everyone turned their attention back to Metal. He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms behind him authoritatively. “Are you sure?”

All eyes shifted back to Amy. She was red as a tomato at all the attention. “P-positive…”

“Hm, very well.” Metal took some steps back onto the deck of the Royal Fortune, turning away from the others. Rouge held a hand back to her crew, a few of whom stood on the deck behind her with rifles. Tails and Amy glanced at one another while Knuckles held his fighting stance. Then, Metal spoke again. “We’ll do it the hard way, then.”

Without warning, a cannon exploded in the direction of Tails’ boat. The three hit the deck as the cannon fodder made contact and shook the vessel. Rouge’s crew opened fire on Metal Sonic’s ship, making bullet holes in the old wood but leaving the robot unaffected as the ammunition bounced off his body. He gave her a look of boredom.

The sun began to set as it all unfolded, casting a deep ruby light over the environment. Amy struggled to find her balance and retrieve the eyepiece and compass that had rolled around the floor at the collision. The compass slipped out of her grip, too, sliding down the deck just beside the glass. She moved to snatch both pieces up but stopped when she noticed something glowing upon the compass in the light that reflected from the eyepiece. Picking them up carefully, Amy brought the spyglass up to look at the compass through. Drawn across the arrow was another arrow, pointing in the opposite direction. It illuminated as she looked at it through the glass and disappeared otherwise. “‘Sky turned…’ Oh! Scarlett!” The intense red light cast from the sunset had combined with the blue filter on the glass to reveal the otherwise hidden image. Upon turning the compass around, Amy found some text on the back in the same glowing lettering.

“Amy, move!” Knuckles shouted from behind. She didn’t have time to react before she felt a metallic coil snake around her waist and pull her backward. It wasn’t a cannonball that Metal Sonic had fired, it was one of his minions, H3 with his extendable arms. Amy screamed as she suddenly lurched away.

“Hang on-” Tails commanded, turning the cannon sharply and causing the vessel to shutter again. H3 struggled to maintain his balance until Knuckles came up on his side and smashed a fist into his head, sending the bot flying off the side of the boat. He released Amy instinctually, using his arms to latch onto the railing instead.

Amy landed on her feet, the artifacts still in hand. “Tails, the compass! Look!”

“Little busy!” Tails was turning the wheel at the helm frantically, trying to swing the cannon back around to fire back at Metal Sonic.

“We have to hurry before the sun goes down! We need the red light!” She ran back to the safety of the helm, where the shield protected them from the front. The cannon charged as she scrambled to read the inscription aloud in the dimming light. “‘The Mirror’s bloodlust was nothing to me, for I’d have bled myself dry for you.’ Huh? Hey, this mentions the mirror-”

Tails pulled the trigger then, expecting some kickback from the blast. Instead, the entire front of the vessel was launched upward, the shot deflected into the sky; something had come up beneath them, turning the boat up and threatening to sink it. Everyone aboard lost their balance as the boat listed back. Tails managed to hold on by the helm and Knuckles by a side railing, but Amy was sent sliding down, shrieking as she rolled overboard off the stern.

Metal Sonic looked on in a panic as it unfolded. “Nooo!” his eyes blazed down at whatever had emerged from the sea to cause the collision. A huge steel submarine sat with its nose just under the front of the boat. “Aaaaargh!” he roared in realization. The logo plastered on each side of it gave it away- it belonged to Dr. Eggman.

“Attack!” the command could be heard coming from the half-submerged vessel. Two oversized badniks emerged from the water, a crablike robot that crawled up the side of the submarine and began blasting at Rouge’s ship, and another shaped like a torpedo made to resemble a shark which hurdled itself toward Tails’ boat, causing it to shake and list further.

“Amy! Knuckles!” Tails shouted. He was able to kick himself off and fly, taking the map as he looked for his friends.

“Over here,” Knuckles called. He reached up for Tails’ hand. “Where’s Amy?”

As she finally emerged from the water, Amy coughed and waved her arm up frantically. Spotting her, Rouge flew overhead. “I’ve got her!”

“No, you don’t,” Metal Sonic flew into Rouge’s side, kicking her out of the air and into the water with a grunt. He made his way to Amy, lifting her by the arm out of the murky water. She coughed and sputtered, but clutched onto both the compass and spyglass with her other hand. He pulled her up further to hold by the waist at his side as he circled his way around to pick up H3, still dangling off the side of Tails’ boat. He narrowly missed a direct hit from the shark badnik when it leaped out of the water for another hit.

“Be more careful! You are not to hit Metal Sonic!” Eggman’s voice screeched from the submarine.

Metal flew over it on his way back to the ship. “Why are you here?!”

Amy had begun struggling under Metal Sonic’s grip, threatening to hurdle herself back into the ocean. “Let me go! I don’t want to join your weird crew!”

“Stop your squirming! Do you have a death wish?” Just as he finished the statement, Amy wormed her way out from under his arm and fell headfirst toward the water. Thinking fast, Metal chucked H3 toward his ship with a CLANG and dove for her. He was just quick enough to catch the girl before she fell in again, supporting her back and legs against him tightly; she wasn’t going to get out of this one so easily.

“What do you even want with me?” she yelled, trying to push away from him in vain.

Metal looked down at her, forcing eye contact. “... I need you.” He tried to sound sincere.

“What-”

Bullets began raining down on them now that they were directly across from Rouge’s ship. Metal pulled Amy’s body in, deflecting the fire. “Is anyone here sane?!” Amy actually made an effort to cling to him now, drawing her knees as close as she could muster.

“Stop firing, you idiots, he has the girl!” Rouge wailed, finally hovering up and recovering from her run-in with Metal Sonic. “Are you trying to get her killed?!” She landed on the front of the submarine and swung her leg down on the crab robot’s face, splitting it in two. Meanwhile, Knuckles threw his fist into the side of the other badnik and rendered it useless as it flopped back into the water. Tails carried him up to the deck of the ship with Rouge not far behind.

Metal flew into the hole in the side of the ship from which the cannon stuck out, allowing him to take them out of harm’s way faster. He dropped her harshly on her behind once they were inside. “H4, H1, make sure she doesn’t escape,” he commanded before flying up toward the main deck.

“Ouch! Hey, wait- what do you want with me?” Amy got on her feet and was ready to chase after him when a pair of snaky appendages started winding themselves around her. “Not... again!” she wiggled out an arm, summoning her hammer; but another clawed hand shot out and knocked it from her grip, confining her before she could retrieve it. There was no squirming away now. “Metal! Get back down here and tell these things to let me gooo!” she screeched before one of H1’s arms coiled over her mouth like a muffler.

On deck, Metal Sonic hoisted the sails and began navigating away from the battle. Eggman had stuck his head out of the top of the submarine, waving at him. “Great work, Metal! I’ll hold them off.” the old man just barely dodged one of Rouge’s bullets before scurrying back in.

Enraged by The Doctor’s presence, Metal was tempted to disobey and continue fighting out of spite- but he had what he’d come for. Resenting the “help,” he blasted “Stay out of this!” at Eggman as his ship sailed into the darkening horizon.

-----

In the aftermath of the battle, Rouge tramped around the ship shouting orders with cameramen on her heels. Eggman escaped once Metal Sonic had enough of a lead. Now, one of the ship‘s engines was badly damaged and engineers were sent down to make what repairs they could while Tails and Knuckles were given towels to dry off with. They sat in the enclosed cockpit discussing their next steps.

“I can’t believe they sunk my boat…” Tails was sitting with his head in his hands sorrowfully, lamenting the loss of his tech. “All that equipment…”

Knuckles sat with his arms crossed, grumbling. “Yeah, and now we have no chance of getting to the treasure before Rouge…” She marched into the room just then, slamming the door behind her and locking out the camera crew with a huff. Raising a brow, Knuckles addressed her. “Speak of the devil…”

“Don’t start!” she shot back at him. “I just saved your sorry behinds from being stranded at sea. I’m dropping you off at the next port-of-call, so don’t get too comfortable!” Rouge had a towel draped over her shoulders but hadn’t changed out of her wet clothes. She was getting goosebumps in the cool, air-conditioned room.

“We’re stopping? But we need to get to that treasure before Metal Sonic and save Amy!” Tails protested.

She marched up to the helm and pointed at several flashing indicator lights. “We can hardly go anywhere right now. Half the ship is under duress and we need to stop somewhere for repairs. I’m waiting for a tow.” Crossing her arms, she turned away from the pair. “And you are not part of my crew- we’re leaving you ashore.”

“Like hell you are!” Knuckles stomped over to her, placing a gruff hand on her shoulder. She was not amused, slapping it away from her.

“Hands off! Or would you rather we throw you overboard now?”

“And you’re fine with just abandoning Amy, then?”

With a gasp, Rouge whirled around again, hiding the shame on her face. “What do you want me to do? The ship’s barely operational, and I have a crew to think about…”

Knuckles grumbled but didn’t have a response. He hated to admit it, but she was right- they needed a ship to catch up to Metal Sonic, and theirs wouldn’t make it far.

“Can I take a look at the damage, Rouge?” Tails chimed in. They both looked back at him, then at each other.

Rouge shrugged with a slight shiver. “Fine- you probably know better than my best engineer anyway…”

“No doubt,” Knuckles retorted. “Go change, would ya? You look like you’re freezing.”

“Hmph!” she glared at him. Picking up a microphone, she pressed a button that called the engine room. “I’m sending another engineer down, you are to do what he asks.” Once she received confirmation, Rouge slammed her own compass and eyeglass on the counter atop her map. “And figure this out!” With that, she was off, out a side door and into her quarters. The door shut harshly behind her.

“Hm.” Knuckles leaned back on the wall. “Now the question is, where do we go from here?”

“We’ll need a red light to find out. Come on,” Tails snatched up the items she’d left behind and beckoned his friend to join him in the engine room.

“A red-? Huh?”

Ignoring their questions as they went, Tails and Knuckles weaved around the camera crew that still lingered outside the room and headed down into the ship’s depths.

Some miles away, Amy’s muffled yelling could be heard below the deck of Metal Sonic’s ship. He descended the stairs slowly, stopping in front of her. He made a motion as if to clear his throat and addressed the girl. “Apologies for the restraints. I thought you might be liable to tear the ship apart otherwise.” He signaled for H1 to unwrap his arm, allowing her to speak freely.

“I’ll tear you apart first!” she writhed under the metal coils to no avail.

“If you don’t settle down, we will just have to wait for you to tire yourself out,” he shrugged. “And you’ll find there’s nowhere to go at sea but down- so I’d be careful about threatening the captain.”

Amy huffed and puffed but couldn’t get out from under the weight of so many restraints. Panting, she finally relented, raising her intense glare at him. “What do you want?”

Metal let out a mechanical “sigh,” as if exasperated. He stood with his hands at his hips, leaning forward slightly. “I do not wish to harm you…” It wasn’t a lie- not yet, anyway. “I’ll cut to the chase: I am after the Stone Mirror-”

“And why would I help you with that?”

“Silence!” he commanded. Amy scoffed, turning her head away. “Now... Why don’t we speak in private, hm?” With a snap of his metallic fingers, the heavy arms all snaked away from Amy, putting her down on her feet gingerly. She gazed from bot to bot with caution. Metal pointed at the wooden staircase with both arms. “After you.”

“Hmph!” Carefully, Amy made her way past each of Metal Sonic’s minions and then himself. They began up the stairs while he followed her closely. He looked away for a moment to signal something to the others; Amy saw an opening. In an instant, her hammer appeared in her fist as she swung around to smash it into the side of his face, knocking him off the third step and onto the floor.

Metal Sonic shook his head violently as the light in his left eye flickered. Unfortunately for Amy, it didn’t actually impair his vision and he managed to catch up to her in a manner of seconds. H3 was already whipping his arms around and charging at Amy when Metal Sonic came up from behind to restrain her. “H3, stop at once!” The small henchmen dove onto his back at the sudden command, sliding across the deck with his extended arms dangling behind. He crashed into a beam feet-first, causing it to rattle.

Kicking and flailing, Amy was only able to bring her weapon down behind her, repeatedly hammering the top of Metal’s head. “Let! Me! Go!”

“What do you even plan to do once you ‘destroy’ me? I told you, there’s nowhere to go- And stop the incessant hammering!” He pulled one of his arms away from her, seizing her hammer and chucking it overboard. The repeated hits to the head finally took out the LEDs in his left eye as it went out completely. He pushed her away and she turned back to him. To his surprise, the giant mallet was already back in her grip when she did. “What- How? Why?!”

Amy was breathing heavily, holding her hammer to her front defensively. Realistically, she knew he was right- even if she managed to take him and the others out, she’d just be lost at sea. Maybe he really wasn’t trying to hurt her… he had asked that smaller robot to stop attacking, after all. But Amy couldn’t see what good giving him access to the Stone Mirror would do. “What do you want with the mirror, anyway?” she asked, doubting he’d give a straight answer.

Metal Sonic straightened up into a neutral pose, smoothing down his lapel. His glare softened as an eyelid cast down over his functioning eye. “I shall tell you… After you stop dripping all over my deck.” Amy winced, realizing how sopping wet she still was from her dip in the ocean. Saltwater dripped from her quills and dress and had begun to puddle at her feet. “There’s a change of clothes in my quarters. Will you stop being combative and listen?”

Lowering her hammer- but not putting it away- Amy nodded reluctantly. “You first this time.”

“... Very well.” Metal Sonic led the way across the elevated deck to a set of double doors, opening one and motioning for Amy to enter. She hung back suspiciously. Metal rolled the eye he had left and entered first, allowing her to close the door behind them. Once inside, he plopped down on a large armchair, propping his feet up on the wooden table in front of him. “I’ve set something out for you there,” he pointed at an antique screen in the corner of the room. “Try not to take all night.”

Amy’s glare didn’t stray until she was safely behind the screen, when she put away her hammer. There was a frilled white blouse and ankle-length maroon skirt hanging beside some black stockings and red boots. A towel hung over the screen. Is he serious? She hesitated for a moment, wondering how she ever ended up in such a scenario, playing dress-up for one of her worst enemies. But the situation was hopeless if she didn’t comply. She just had to play along and wait for backup for the time being…

After 10 minutes of waiting, Metal grew impatient. “Do you need assistance?” he mocked.

“No!” Amy emerged a moment later, awkwardly shoving the bottom of the shirt into the bell-shaped skirt. She’d slipped the compass and spyglass into each of her sleeves in the absence of pockets. “Thanks for the clothes or whatever, but why this?”

Ignoring her question, Metal stood and approached her. She took a step back. “Hm… Needs accessories.” His heavy steps clopped against the hardwood floor as Metal strode to another box of costumes. He dug out a set of square scarves and made his way back to where she stood, as non-threateningly as possible. Standing silently, Amy crossed her arms over the front of her body; she didn’t know what to expect. “Would you try these on?”

Amy was in disbelief. What did he want with her that required such a costume? She took the large square of fabric from him and examined them, unsure what she was meant to do. “Uh…”

“Allow me.” Metal held out an unassuming arm. The annoyance on Amy’s face was clear as she placed them back in his hand and brought her hands up to her hips impatiently. “Lift your arms.”

“What?”

“These go around your waist. Now, lift your arms.”

She did what he asked with a grumble, gasping as he tightened each of them around her and tied the ends into forceful knots. Metal took a step back and admired her outfit. “Yes, very ‘pirate,’ don’t you think?” He motioned to a floor mirror across the room.

“I guess…” Keeping his reflection in her sights, Amy walked over to it. She was incredibly weirded out by his insistence, but supposed it could have been worse…

Her captor’s reflection grew nearer as he came up next to her, examining his face. “You really did a number on my eye; I’m impressed. But I wonder if it’ll affect…”

“Hrm- I put on your silly outfit, now will you tell me what you want?”

The single burning eye on his face shot at her briefly. Rather than frightened, the girl seemed irritated at the situation. He measured her heart rate- it was consistent with that of a person at rest now. Her behavior was almost admirable. “It is only fair,” he said, taking a seat back at the table. “Sit.”

“Is the word ‘please’ in your vocabulary?” she spat back.

Another eye-roll from Metal. “Please… sit.” Amy complied. She squirmed a bit as she sat, feeling restrained by the many layers around her midsection. She wondered silently if that was part of his plan. “The Stone Mirror. It allows one to become their ‘most desired self,’ is that correct?”

There was no way Metal Sonic should have known that. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

His eye narrowed at her. “Fine- I will be honest. I know this only from spying on you and your friends. I have nothing to hide.”

“Is admitting it supposed to make it better?”

“No… I suppose not.” He leveraged himself against the table to stand. That glowing eye followed Amy as he paced around the perimeter of the table until he stopped at her side. “I know what the mirror is capable of, and I would like your help to retrieve it.” Leaning back on the table, he pointed at the cuffs of her sleeves. “The compass, if you will…”

“You still haven’t told me why you kidnapped me.”

There was a silent pause. Metal locked his gaze with hers and softened his tone. “You are a compassionate person, Amy Rose. I believe you will understand my need to obtain this artifact.”

“Which is?”

He feigned another sigh. “I am growing tired of being under The Doctor’s command. He has given me some freedom, but…” Looking up, he crossed his arms defensively. “What I am most interested in is my autonomy.” His “acting” would have been impeccable if what he was saying was at all a lie. He hadn’t gotten around to his scheme yet.

“Okay…” The frown on her face told him she was listening, but still wary.

“I do not believe I will be able to achieve that in this form, you see.”

“So, what form are you trying to take? Another giant monster?”

“An organic form,” he responded simply.

Amy was taken aback. “A… A what?” Metal’s engine hummed in the quiet air. He began moving again, circling behind Amy, who didn’t take her eyes off him until he stopped on her other side. She wanted to stare at him intensely, to show that she wasn’t letting her guard down, but there was an impossible longing on his face. It was hard to look directly at him.

“It’s simple- I am a robot. I have an advanced AI far beyond that of others like me, but… There is something missing. This body, although immortal and perfect in design, seems to weigh me down.” He knelt down beside her so he was no longer looming, believing it made him appear more humble. “I wish to think for my own… to feel.”

The moment was uncomfortable. Amy recoiled slightly when he’d come down, trying in vain to avoid locking eyes with him. He sounded so sincere. How could it be possible? “Wh- Why didn’t you just take the compass and run? Why did you have to bring me?”

“I took you so your friends wouldn’t attack me directly and spoil my plans.”

“So I’m a shield?”

“Not quite. I could have taken anyone- I chose you because,” he reached a hand out, gently taking hold of one of hers. She snatched it back with a glare. “Hm. I chose you because I believed you would understand my need and if the necessity arose, you could help me convince your team... I suppose I was mistaken,” he pushed himself upright.

“Wait,” Amy felt like she would regret it, but her good nature didn’t allow her to walk away from someone who seemed so desperate to change for the better- especially an enemy. “Can you… really not be free like this? You seem to have your own will…”

The trap was working. Metal found it easier to keep up the charade than he originally thought. “My thoughts and feelings are simulated. Would you feel ‘free’ if someone could reprogram you and take your memories at any moment?”

“Does… does Eggman do that?”

“... He has.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Oh,” Amy breathed. She held onto her wrists tightly, feeling for the compass and spyglass. This could all be a trap, she could be walking to her doom, and yet… “How do I know you’re not just gonna turn around and transform into something horrible?”

“You don’t. But…” he loomed over her chair slightly. “I will get what I want. You can either help me, or be stranded on the first remote island we come across until your friends rescue you. As it stands, you are only added assurance. The choice is yours.”

So he was back to threatening her. Amy thought about it- he really didn’t need her. If he had evil intentions, Metal Sonic could have just as easily taken what he wanted from her and locked her up, or worse. Instead, he asked for her help. It was unprecedented. Then again, Amy thought she could at the very least stall him- pry into his plan and see if she could discern whether he was being truthful... And it was either that or become a castaway.

She turned back to him with resolve on her face. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

The first phase of the plan was officially a success. Now, all Metal needed to do was keep up the act and use her presence to his advantage should her friends catch up to them. Better not to celebrate, yet- he didn’t want to sound too confident. “Thank you, Amy Rose. I knew I could count on you.” He extended his hand once more, this time waiting for her response. She stood up and shook it with a nod.

“Just Amy is fine. And I hope this means you’ll start thinking for yourself instead of blindly coming after us.”

“Cutting words, Amy…” He may have held her in that handshake a bit harder than necessary as she couldn’t hide the slight wince in her eyes. “Now, the compass.”

A sly smile spread on her face. “No ‘please’?”

Cheeky. Perhaps, Metal thought, she would be more interesting to keep as company than he thought. “Please,” he said in a low growl, drawing her in closer with a harsh tug.

“Ugh,” Amy yanked her hand away from him distastefully. “Here, weirdo.” She pulled the compass from her sleeve and tossed it to him.

“Hm. I believe the next words are ‘thank you.’” Metal examined the compass front and back. “Perhaps you think you’ve stumped me without the little spyglass in the sunset, but…” A purplish glow came from his eye as he cast it down on the navigation device. “I am still a robot, after all.”

With a scoff, Amy crossed her arms. She’d hoped to buy herself some time by not sharing the “solution” with him, but of course, he had a sharp eye. If she wasn’t able to trick him, she’d just have to get in his way.

“An inscription and all. So theatrical,” Metal chuckled. “Even back then, one could simply shine a red light upon this and use the glass filter…”

“You’re one to talk about theatrics.” She wasn’t sure if she should nod toward his outfit or the entire ship.

He let out a metallic laugh. “And here I thought you’d be entertained by all this. Come, we can finally navigate.”

With that, Metal Sonic led Amy out onto the main deck. She followed him cautiously, taking note of her surroundings. Each of the little henchmen clinked their clamped hands to their heads as their master passed. They were cute in their strange little way, their wide smiles making them look silly for the most part. Amy couldn’t help cracking a smile at the one who stood under the roof of the helm. She gave him a little wave and he reacted by springing his arms to the side and doing a handstand. “Pfff!” Amy cracked up.

“H1- stop fooling around. The sails need turning,” Metal demanded. H1 kept Amy giggling as he curled into a ball and rolled down the deck. “I will never know why they are such clowns…”

“Aw, lighten up! They’re fun. Well, when they’re not trying to strangle me.”

Metal ignored her, instead using the compass to navigate. “It seems we just have to go in the opposite direction from where this points. The glowing arrow is hardly necessary.”

“I guess,” Amy shrugged. “Looks cool, though.” She appeared much more relaxed after the quick laugh. Supporting herself on a rail, she looked out into the dark waters. “You can’t see anything out there…”

“Well, you can’t.”

“And pretty soon neither will you. Might wanna start getting acclimated.”

The proud attitude Metal took toward his mechanical body was probably best hidden for the time being. He made a note to dial down the cockiness. “I suppose you have a point. We will light some lanterns, then.”

The great vessel turned gradually in the correct direction as the other minions brought out antique lanterns from the ship’s displays. They did little to light the ship’s way, but Amy at least had a way to see where she was going aboard. Metal Sonic gave her free access to its entirety, but she was more interested in watching the stars from under the unspoiled sky. He observed as she cocked her head up and around to capture what she could with what he only assumed was a much narrower ocular scope than his own. Still, her curiosity was interesting as it unfolded before him. Amy had surely seen the night sky before, yet she craned her head to stare up at it so intently. It was… cute. That word seemed to be thrown in her direction a lot.

Grumbling in her stomach caused Amy to turn her attention to her hunger. She worried there wouldn’t be anything to eat on a ship manned entirely by machines. “Hey,” she called out to him from the lower deck, “uh, do you have any food? I haven’t eaten in a while…”

Food. It hadn’t crossed his mind. Of course, organics liked to- no, needed to eat to survive. He scolded himself for the oversight. “We… did not bring any aboard.”

“Seriously?”

Surely, there had to be something on board as the vessel was operating just two days prior. “The galley, perhaps? Follow me.”

Metal descended the steps that led from the helm and beckoned for Amy to join him in the lower guns. He kept the layout of the ship in his vision as they navigated most of the way into its belly, finally reaching the kitchen down below. Luckily, there was a light switch and Amy was able to put down her lantern as she took in the sight of the huge space.

“Woah… That’s no galley…” she stepped inside, admiring the stainless steel countertops and modern, oversized refrigerators and industrial ovens. “This must be the catering kitchen,” she concluded, opening a fridge. It was full of food just waiting to be prepared.

“Ah, yes. I believe there was to be a wedding here until I commandeered the ship…”

“You took someone’s entire wedding venue?” Amy asked in shock. “I thought you were evil before…”

He supposed that was meant to be a quip, but he didn’t find the humor in her words. Metal walked calmly to one of the stovetops and tested the switch, which was working normally. “It appears everything here is operational. I’ll leave you to it.” He turned on his heel and made for the exit, byt stopped. She would need a place to sleep, too. “I suppose you’ll need sleeping quarters, as well- find me when you’re through and I’ll assign you a room.”

“Uh-huh,” Amy answered half-heartedly. She was too busy deciding what to cook for herself and trying to figure out how to split the huge, catering-sized portions for one.

It took some creativity, but she managed to make something that would last her a couple of meals. Amy didn’t feel great about all the stolen food, but beggars can’t be choosers. Once she’d eaten and cleaned up, Amy picked up the precarious lantern and began her way up the many steps to the main deck. There are modern appliances here and they couldn’t be bothered to get me a flashlight? Amy still didn’t understand what the pirate charade was about, but she had to admit how cute she looked in the historical outfit. Pirates were definitely cooler than sailors; she wished she’d thought of it.

She finally reached the floor below the upper deck to find Metal Sonic sitting at a table in the corridor, wiping and inspecting the blade of a sword. It was creepy. “Hey… I’m done eating.” She held up the lantern awkwardly.

“Have you ever used one of these?” he flicked his wrist, brandishing the sword above him.

“Uh… can’t say I really have.”

“Would you like to?”

Amy clicked her tongue impatiently. “I would like to take a shower and know where I’ll be sleeping.”

The tip of the sword found its way quite startlingly into the wooden table-top as Metal stood. “‘Lighten up,’” he mocked her.

“Are you gonna be this good at copying people when your programming disappears?” Amy did her best to look unphased, but her heart jumped when he stuck the sword into the table. It was beating a bit quicker now.

A monocular, dead-pan stare met her eyes. “Will being organic make me as dull as you?”

Even after years of intense battles and struggling bitterly against him, Amy never wanted to wack Metal Sonic harder than she did then. The whole situation was unbelievably annoying- trapped on a ship with a cocky narcissist. A dangerous one- the thought ran through her mind. Amy had to take a step back- once he changed, if he changed, he would be much less of a threat. If she wasn’t staying aboard for him, she hoped, she was at least doing it for the greater good. That at least gave her some comfort. “Just tell me where it is, I’ll go myself.”

Metal leaned an arm on the table with disinterest. “Down two floors and down the hall to your right. It will be hard to miss.”

“Hmph,” Amy took off, trodding back down the stairs. Other than a short temper, he was impossible to read. She had to find a way to learn more about his intentions.

Amy followed his instructions, arriving in a dark corridor. Amy squinted in the dim light, groping for a light switch. Once she found it, she was in awe. Ornate molding lined the ceiling and fine art hung from the walls. It must have been part of the wedding venue.

She admired the paintings leading down the hall until reaching a door with a gold handle. Bridal Suite was printed on a plaque that hung next to it. Entering, Amy found a bright white room furnished with a canopy bed and vanity, among other lavish furniture. Her irritability quickly melted away as she took in the luxurious surroundings. Maybe staying aboard the strange ship wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

-------

Hi yall so I’m taking a break from writing Unfamiliar as I outline the last few chapters. It’ll be back early 2021 ❤️

ALSO I meant to finish this in time for @metamy-ship-week prompt 7 (free day) but it ended up a lot longer than I expected - hope you don’t mind me tagging it!

Part 2 of this should be up in the next few days! Love yall besos

#metamy #metal sonic x amy rose #metal sonic #amy rose #MetamyShipWeek2020 #metamy week #sonic fanfiction #sth #pirates

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flowerflamestars · 3 years

Text

Nesta Under the Mountain: acowar remix

The first thing Nesta hears when she wakes up, is Rhysand.

Who is right by her bedside, waiting, apparently for this exact moment of her eyes opening and coherency on her face to say, with full High Lord gravitas: we would have gone with you.

Cassian, who has given up any pretense, and is literally on the floor between Rhysand’s armchair and Nesta’s bed, kicks him.

They didn’t know what happened to her- couldn’t find any wounds, any marks at all, but Nesta wouldn’t wake up. It’s Amren who insists, who sits perfectly still by her side for an hour and says- she did something. She did something like what I did.

Lucien, poisoned with faebane and stabbed in the heart, was lucky to be alive, in and out of consciousness. He’d been awake in the days that followed for just ten minutes. During which he used the hand Azriel was persistently holding to leverage himself out of bed, fallen, been caught by Azriel, and somehow dragged himself to Nesta’s side before passing out, stitches popped and bleeding.

There’s two beds in the room now.

Cassian doesn’t have the room to process- but he’s noticed, how he’s noticed- that Azriel has spent these days more than not like he is now: Lucien’s hand in both of his.

A frozen elegy, Lucien’s scarred knuckles, pressed to his mouth.

Nesta’s awake, and Azriel hasn’t dropped Luciens hand.

Listen, Cassian hasn’t slept in days. He thought, truly, Nesta was never waking up. That he was going to sit here and watch her slowly die. He’s absolutely not in his right mind. So he thinks: Oh. oh.

All three of them.

It’s not unheard of. And Azriel is, of course, one of the absolute best males that Cassian knows. Honorable. Strong. Beautiful. Of course, they’ve worked this out- Nesta is the most unflinching, brutally honest person of all of them. Lucien she can be loud with- Azriel she can be quiet with- enough love to burn the world, why should she give it to just one person?

(a smaller, quieter, sadder part of him that isn’t zipping through thoughts at the speed of light can admit- if it was going to be an Illyrian, if that was even an option- why couldn’t it be him?

...of course, it would be handsome Azriel over Cassian)

It’s too easy to picture- dark Azriel, vibrant Lucien, moon glow on the blackest night Nesta.

But none of that matters. Because Nesta is sitting up, and glaring at Rhys and looking like a person again. Looking down and finding Cassian, there on the floor, with a tiny, savage smile. A hesitation- a second, that goes on and on, Nesta’s lovely mouth perked up, her eyes steady on his.

Alive, alive, alive. Cassians imagines- thinks he’s only imagining- that he can feel the steady beat of her heart alongside his.

But then of course eventually Nesta twists to sit up properly, already braiding away the rumpled cascade of her hair. (Cassian’s hands ache to help). Turning, to look at Lucien, grey-tinged and too still in bed.

Azriel answered without needing to be asked, looking at Nesta with weary eyes, Lucien’s limp hand pressed to his cheek. (Cassian’s heart is on fire). Explains that the poison is cleansed and now it will only take time, that Lucien had demanded to see her. The first expression on Azriel’s face in four days straight: a quirk of his full mouth, the ghost of a fond smile, telling Nesta Lucien tore his stitches to get to her.

(Cassian feels a little sick)

Stupid asshole, Nesta will grumble right back, but in that tone that says I love you.

But Nesta will turn away, straight to Cassian, to ask: My sisters?

(Cassian is Not Okay. Cassian’s self-esteem issues are literally going to cockblock him and despite not leaving in days for more than a few moments, Cassian is suddenly desperate to get out of this room. The city. His own skin)

Cassian can recognize trust when he sees it. Swallows. Tells her they’ve been here too, Morrigan just dragged them away to eat. They’re downstairs- he can get them- he can-

The youngest Archeron crashes through the door with Nesta’s own cataclysmic sense of timing, and throws herself at her sister. Elain, a step behind, walks around Cassian to curl up on Nesta’s other side, skirts tucked carefully around her.

They want to know what happened- and Rhysand, with his usual grace, choses this moment to interject that he would like to too.

(The Cauldron, downstairs, cannot be moved. Reacts to nothing, unaffected by physical strength or magical inquiry. It is, in the end, creepy as fuck. The sisters like it.)

(Not to mention that Nesta- who has always had presence, even as a mortal- whose mean laugh and beautiful face and tendency to yell at him is absolutely some kind of catnip to Rhysie- Nesta now feels like danger. Not the kind you only have to look hard at her to see, that strength that is who she is. Like a High Lord. Something old. Something powerful.)

So Nesta tells them. The King, the Castle of Bone, the Cauldron, who would be a prisoner no longer. Of the reckless, insane thing she’d done when it seemed like they were doomed- of what the Cauldron gave.

(Cassian is glad he didn’t leave. Cassian might never leave her side again, no matter how much it will hurt. Nesta drowned herself in eternity on purpose.)

She doesn’t allow them to congratulate, to question- though Feyre does joke about Nesta seizing the crown.

Nesta looks past them all, to Rhysand. Tells him what she’d told Cassian, the words he’d been holding behind his teeth like succor: She wasn’t the only sister. Rhysand.

Linnea, Amarantha, Clythia.

Nesta Archeron had been dragged over the Wall to protect her sisters- been transformed against her will into a monster and chosen that life, in the end, to stop war from marching to mortal lands to them.

Amarantha was a monster. Clythia a mistake. Linnea, long locked away, the discarded eldest, would come to sow vengeance against Prythian’s Vengeance. Against Nesta Archeron and whole continent that had borne and made her.

The war was still coming.

The medical team arrives to do one more round of treatment for Lucien. Nesta, uninterested now that she can resist in being poked and prodded ever, stumbles off to her actual bedroom, deathgrip on Cassian’s arm she will absolutely not admit is keeping her upright.

She puts herself together. Bathes. Finds clothes. Looks, this time, in the mirror. She looks the same- her face had never changed that much. The subtle glow of immortality, the stupid knifeblade ears. But it’s still her face: her mother’s lathe cheekbones, her father’s plush, lying mouth.

Nesta is a monster, but Nesta is Nesta.

She marches downstairs, and shuts herself in the study with Rhys. Crossed her arms. Stands there, spine straight, feet spread, like she’s going to battle.

Clenches her tattooed hand so hard it hurts.

She tells him, I want to make a deal. You wanted me in your Court, to fight in the war for the Night. I’ll swear fealty. I’ll be your fucking weapon- just me, not Lucien- if you promise that no matter what happens, no matter who comes, you protect my sisters. To the last fucking breath, Rhysand.

Rhys stands up. Brushes a hand over his face like he’s thinking and abruptly, laughs.

Nes, he’ll drawl to the feverpitch of her temper that he definitely has an unhealthy fondness of. You don’t owe me shit. You freed Prythian. You killed Hybern. You tamed the Cauldron.

Is Velaris suddenly not your home? It’s not a trap. Archeron, you’re one of us, whether you wanted it or not. That means they are too.

Nesta: I am a private contractor.

Rhys: You’re so involved you’re basically my Third alongside Mor. We would have gone with you.

And that, in the end, is what does it. Rhys is such a goddamn liar- but that doesn’t mean Nesta hasn’t learned when he’s telling the truth. And he is now.

They would have gone with her- to kill a King. To save her sisters. To enact bloody, reckless violence.

Nesta sits down, steals his teacup, and says: Fine.

The problem is clear at once: Rhysand thought Linnea was dead. Everyone thought Linnea was dead. Information from when she did live is unclear at best- Amarantha’s half-sister, where Clythia and her had been born to the same unfortunate mother.

Half-mad, denied acknowledgment from her father. Clythia and Amarantha were generals, woman who dealt in violence. Linnea, when she’d lived- when she’d been known- was an alchemist.

What the hell is alchemy? Magic that isn’t ours, Rhysand says darkly. Magic that is unnatural, not quite real. Not the power inside you- the power you can steal from the world.

It usually doesn’t work. It usually kills the fae involved eventually.

They need more information- they need Azriel, and no one is about to suggest he move a muscle until Lucien wakes back up.

There’s a family dinner, eaten sprawled around the sickroom. Elain, Nesta learns, has made quick work of befriending Morrigan. Feyre’s recklessness- the mirror of Nesta’s- has ensured, with fearless wonder, that she’s absolutely comfortable here.

(This Rhysand, who knew and was in awe of Nesta first, might like Feyre...but Nesta is his contemporary. The idea that her baby, mortal, youngest sister might also be doesn’t occur to him. Not yet, anyway. There being three Archeron’s at all remains overwhelming.)

Cassian offers to fly Elain and Feyre back to the House.

It’s Feyre, with the sort of straight forward confusion that can’t be feigned, who says, after Cassian has set them down and is walking into the warm halls with them: Aren’t you going back? Oh, is Nesta coming here?

Cassian’s heart: ground zero. Cassian’s brain: just far enough from the explosion to be burning, burning, burning.

Elain, who is a lot more like Nesta now that she isn’t frozen in worry, frowning just a little. Not warning- something worse, abject disappointment: We can get settled on our own. Nesta told me she’s sleeping at the townhouse tonight, in case Lucien wakes.

Feyre, yawning: Oh right, bye Cassian.

And then Cassian is left alone, the doors shut.

Let us return to Nesta: feet propped up on the blankets of Luciens bed, quietly drinking whiskey. Watching, with a pang in her chest she’ll ignore and ignore and ignore, while Azriel- now that it’s just them, Nesta, who Lucien had explained to Azriel like this: I’d die for her. She’s my...Cassian. I’m always going to choose her, and if we do this you can’t hate that. Nesta, who is family- is gently braiding the riot of bloodred hair off Lucien’s face.

She handed over the half-full glass when he was done, and Azriel tossed the whole thing back. Said, eventually, as they sat there watching Lucien breathe together: that’s the first time Cassian has left.

Nesta, leaning even further back in the chair: Oh?

Azriel, with humor, steady in his deep voice: Rhysand had to make him let go so the healers could check you. He’s been in this room for a week.

Nesta, who’s still looking at the braids. Nesta, who’d woke and known that Cassian would have made sure her sisters were okay: Will he ever say anything?

Az: Does he need to?

Nesta, with a scoff: For me, no. For himself, yes. And then, softer. Thank you. For taking care of him.

They both know she isn’t talking about Cassian.

Azriel will just nod. Say, like it’s nothing, the bare truth: He’s all the light, in the entire world.

Nesta hears again Cassian, tearing through words like they hurt to say: you’re the whole world.

Nesta, aloud: And much too stubborn to die.

This, unfortunately, the last two sentences, are all Cassian hears, frozen outside the door.

He walks away.

The next day, Lucien awake, Rhysand will call them all together and divide up what must be done. Lucien and Az: information. Morrigan: the darkbringers. Cassian and Nesta: the Legions.

It’s time for Nesta Archeron to go to Ilyria.

@more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @rhaenystargaryn @morrkrii @just-a-starcrossed-writer @clolikescloquetas @did-you-miss-me221 @caotica-e-quieta

#once again split this up for some semblance of brevity #poor baby self-worth issues Cassian #acting like an adorable tool #Rhys! and Nesta almost friends #very almost #it was always a story about the love between sisters #and it will be #to the bitter #bitter end

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alovesongshewrote · 4 years

Text

Almost A Thousand Years - Battle Royal | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot: You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years. You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years. And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain. But somewhere in that time, things changed. [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count: 2,975

Warnings: (Y/N) is traumatized, but you knew that already

A/N: IT’S B A C K, SHE’S HOME

Taglist: @furblrwurblr @rainningdoom @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458 @sitherin-mxschief @jinxedleo @lawlesshedgehog @einahpetsyarcip @dolphincommander @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05 @justarandomhoman

You were very pleased to finally get a nap.

It took a few minutes of answering questions, and by the end of it you’d basically told Claire and Steve every secret you’d ever had, but it was worth it. You’d answer all of their questions and a million more if it meant you got to take another nap in the corner of Douxie’s room.

Waking up to general panic, however, was not as good.

“Morgana’s alive and coming for us!”

You sat up just in time to see Morgana’s hand reach through a shadow portal, only for Claire to shut the thing before any real damage could be done.

“Well… that’s not good,”

“Douxie, what do we do?”

Your wizard turned to face you, then Claire, then the empty space where the portal had been.

“Merlin?”

You nodded, “Yeah, Merlin,”

It took you less than a minute to wake up from your nap, and five minutes to get to Merlin’s workshop. After that, it only took you an eternity to convince him that Morgana had really returned.

“I swear, Morgana’s not dead!”

“Rubbish,”

“It’s true, master. She saw her in the shadow realm, which is great for saving history,”

“But she’s coming to attack the kingdom any second!”

“Which is less great,”

“We are all in grave danger,”

“And what were you doing in the shadow realm, hmm? Its dark mirrors trick you, sozzle your mind. Morgana is dead, and no magic can change that. I haven’t time to chase ghosts. We have more immediate threats,”

Typical Merlin, unwilling to listen to anyone except Arthur. But something he said struck a chord with you. No magic could bring Morgana back, at least no magic Merlin knew of. You, however, had some experience with a different kind of magic, one that had some alarming potential.

“Morgana is a threat!”

“Listen well, girl, even if she had cheated death, we don’t stand a chance if Gunmar attacks before I finish the amulet,”

Past Douxie kicked down the door. He was talking, they all were, but you were very lost in thought. The Arcane Order had mentioned something about being older than the stars, and that meant they were round now. If their magic could possess you, and create the green knight, then-

“I know you think we’re just a bunch of dumb teens, but we have to defend Camelot from disaster,”

“Hey, guys? What if we’re thinking of the wrong disaster,”

You had Douxie and Claire’s attention, but not Merlin’s. What else is new.

“Think about it. Morgana had to be brought back by extremely powerful magic. Maybe Gandalf over here can’t think of anything that could do that, but I think I have a good idea of we might be facing,”

Your wizard and the sorceress watched you with anticipation, but Merlin had no time for this. With a wave of his hand, half-masks appeared, covering the bottom of your face. The same thing happened to Claire and Douxie.

“Silence!”

“Wizard got your tongues?”

You couldn’t speak, but with the limited knowledge of morse code that you’d picked up in the wars, you told Archie that you would fight him in a Denny’s parking lot whenever the opportunity arose.

“If you truly believe the kingdom’s in danger, then go protect it… outside. I’ve an amulet to finish,”

Green magic surrounded you, lifting you, Douxie, Claire and Archie out the door and away from Merlin.

As much as you hated being silenced, it was kind of fun to watch Douxie struggle to remove the masks. It took a few minutes for the green magic surrounding you and Claire to turn blue, and when it did, you were thankful enough to help your wizard with his gag.

“No sign of Morgana anywhere,”

“Nothing but unwashed plebeians stuffing their faces, eh, Steve?”

If you looked into the crowd, you could see Steve, an unwashed plebeian, stuffing his face.

You turned your attention from the teenager, who was now running towards your small group, to watch Arthur give his little speech. To be honest, you weren’t actually that focused on what the king was saying. In fact, you had zoned right out until he mentioned Bular.

At the king’s command, the troll was brought out into the shadows where the public could see him. The Gumm-Gumm prince roared, and you heard screams echo out through the crowd, one of which came from Steve.

You, on the other hand, didn’t scream. Instead, you took a few steps back, clenching your jaw and your fists. Seeing the face of the troll who had stalked you for a century, gotten you tortured, and tried to kill you and your friends was not something you’d been looking forward to.

Douxie noticed your discomfort and grabbed your hand, “You alright, love?”

“Not really, no,”

Your wizard looked around, forming a plan, “Ok, guys, come this way,”

You followed his lead and found yourself in a shaded alleyway discussing the plan. It wasn’t much, but it was way better than being anywhere near Bular.

“Right, we know Arthur’s the main target. I’ll draw stasis traps around the perimeter, put up defensive wards-” Steve cut him off, not with words, but with food, “I forgot how good these tasted. The ones in the future aren’t the same,”

You may have been viscerally upset by the fact that the Gumm-Gumm prince was anywhere near you, but you weren’t heartless. The sight of your boyfriend enjoying a part of his old home brought a smile to your face. Claire, however, had no time for this.

“Guys, this is Morgana we’re talking about. We can’t just wait for her to slice our throats,”

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, Steve, but I’d rather not die horribly this week,”

“She’ll find a way in, she’s not just powerful,”

Archie flew down, perching on your shoulder in his dragon form, “No sign of any sorceresses, but then again, all you humans do look the same,”

“She is crafty. She’ll try to infiltrate the tournament,” your gang, minus Steve, started to walk down the street, “We have to go on the offensive, root the witch out,”

“You do that. We’ll secure the castle,”

Claire looked between you and the wizard. You gave her a nod, Douxie gave her a high-five, and the three of you ran off, Archie flying behind you.

You wanted to avoid Bular as much as possible, so you followed your wizard, placing your own protective warding around his. It didn’t take too long for your mood to improve greatly. Spending time with your loved ones just kinda does that sometimes.

“And there. The king’s chambers and Merlin’s tower, completely warded. No evil sorceress getting in now, eh?”

“Oh, you’ve done it alright. Overdone it,”

You cringed as a bypasser found himself trapped in one of Douxie’s sigils, and you walked over with him to free the poor dude.

“Well, at least the castle’s safe,”

“As safe as it can be when an evil sorceress is breathing down your neck,” you crossed your arms, looking around at your work, “I really hope we never have to use these,”

Douxie wrapped an arm around your waist and placed a hand on the side of your face, turning you to look at him, “You never know, love, but whatever comes next, I promise I will keep you safe. I won’t let anyone, Arcane Order included, hurt you again,” the emotion in his voice almost surprised you.

You knew that what the Order did to you had caused damage, both physical and mental, but you’d never really realized that had done the same to him. Obviously, you were worse off, but you just now realized just how much guilt Douxie felt over this, and it made you feel a lot worse. You already knew that he would blame himself and that it would just add to the guilt he already felt about messing up time (which was not his fault), but you had miscalculated just how much remorse the man you loved would feel.

You didn’t say anything. How could you say or do anything other than pull him towards you and bury your face in his chest?

“Thank you, Douxie,” you looked up into his hazel eyes, “And uh, just in case you were wondering, I’ve got your back also,”

He smiled, letting out a small laugh, “I know. Thank you, darling,”

“Ay, no need to thank me,” you said, a lazy grin on your face as you kissed your wizard.

Your hands moved from his back to rest on his neck. Maybe it wasn’t the most romantic thought, but you were really glad that you weren’t driven to strangle him. You broke the kiss, still grinning. He turned his face, taking one of your hands and kissing it.

“I love you,” his words were a little muffled by your hand, but that didn’t take away any of the meaning.

If possible, your smile got bigger, “I love you too,”

Externally, everything was quiet and peaceful, but internally, you were screaming and thinking, “Fuckin finally!” over and over again.

This might have been a bad idea for a future you, but screw it. You’d been waiting for this for long enough, and the same went for Douxie. You had been through a lot in the past few decades, and you both deserved a goddamn break, and to spend some time with each other.

But clearly, the universe did not agree.

“OI, the king summons you!” oh wow, and it was Gallahad specifically ruining the moment, which is, what, the second time he’s done that? He grabbed your boyfriend and shook him around a little before continuing, “Come with me at once!”

“What-”

You and Archie shared a glance of mutual confusion before following the knight and the wizard.

“We have reached the time that’s not the beginning, but not the end! A half-time, if you will. Enjoy this match of misfits, my lord!”

“Ugh, I thought the king was in danger, not looking to use my friend as a sideshow,”

“Well, that’s Camelot for you,”

While the crowd watched Archie burn a gnome to a crisp, you watched Bular, who sat looking extremely bored, in his corner. Technically speaking, he hadn’t sent spies after you, ordered your torture, or tried to kill your friends yet, but you knew he would one day, and that was enough to set you on edge.

Douxie slipped a hand into yours, squeezing it reassuringly, and you smiled. You may have been a ball of nerves and edges at that moment, but you still had a heart.

“Now, the formidable Knight of Skulls and his challenger, Sir Clairee of the House of Nuñez!”

Now, you were always down for a good scheme, but this was a little too unexpected. Your jaw dropped as you watched Claire enter the field dressed in her purple armour. Without a second thought, both you and Douxie had thrown yourselves over the stand you’d been in to get closer to the girl.

“What is she doing?”

“I think she’s Mulan-ing it,”

Whatever the hell Claire was doing, she did it with style, fighting with grace and elegance in a swirl of purple and black. She was doing well until her opponent grabbed Steve’s drink and threw it in her face. The girl fell back and the Knight of Skulls raised his axe above her head. With no other option, Claire used her magic to throw the guy against the wall.

“Sorcery? That is forbidden!”

“Yeah, but you have to admit it’s pretty epic,”

Claire didn’t give a shit about what Arthur had to say, something you respected. The girl got straight to business interrogating the fallen knight. You didn’t know why she was doing it, but you assumed she had reasons.

Or you did until she flipped the guy’s helmet off revealing a very confused red-haired dude.

Lancelot and another guard grabbed Claire, removing her helmet and revealing that she was, in fact, a woman. This mattered to no one. What did matter, was that she had used magic.

“The witch is disqualified!”

“You both fight with no honour! Begone!”

“Well, that isn’t the worst thing that could have happened,”

“Hail, Morgana!”

“But that is!”

A man with a green glowing blade appeared behind Arthur, prepared to stab him. Before he had the chance, Claire portaled the assassin out onto the field where he transformed into a troll.

“Oop, changeling,” you muttered, earning a half-smile from Douxie.

The creature laughed as it drew more green knives, one for each of his four hands. Lovely.

“Yep, changeling. Protect the king!” Douxie yelled as said changeling threw two knives. The blades hit their marks, turning two guards to stone.

The situation somehow got worse as the king entered the fray, jumping in front of the creature. The changeling, however, did not attack the king, instead, he elected to make your worst nightmares come true.

“Run free, Gumm-Gumm prince,”

“At last!”

“(Y/N), run,” Douxie said before he, too, threw himself right into danger.

As Bular pounced on the king, Douxie created a shield around himself and Arthur. Upon impact, the sphere-shaped defence rolled away and out of the courtyard. Bular wasted no time going after them, not even giving you a second glance. You supposed you should be relieved, but you could feel the hits Douxie was taking, and suddenly relief was out of the question.

You went to follow the king and your wizard when the kingdom exploded. You braced yourself for a moment before continuing on your course. Bombs or not, you were going to protect your wizard. And also the king. That was probably important.

You made it out of the yard just in time to see Bular jump through the flames and over the now crumbling walls of Camelot to his freedom. Cool, dope, the threat to your life was gone. Now all that was left was the threat to Arthur’s life.

Speaking of, you darted in front of the king, creating a shield just as the changeling attacked. It bounced off the force-field you’d created, giving you enough time to draw your sword. Your friends and Lancelot stood tall, protecting the king, weapons at the ready. It probably looked awesome, but you couldn’t tell. Fortunately for you, I can tell, and it did look awesome.

“Stay back!”

The creature growled, “Fools, I’ve already won!”

Your eyes widened as you watched explosions surround the castle, each one contained in a force-field of its own.

“Merlin’s tower!”

“Good call with the defences, guys!”

“Yeah, but they won’t last long,”

“Oh no, Douxie,” Archie warned, flying towards you.

“What?”

“The other Douxie! With the man-bun, in the tower?”

“fUCK!”

“Ohhhhh fUZZBUCKETS!”

You, Douxie and Claire bolted to the castle, but your speed did not stop your snark, “Still not gonna say it?”

“Be patient, love!”

By the time you got to the castle, green smoke was everywhere. True, it was surrounded by shields, but that didn’t make it any less horrifying.

Douxie was equally horrified, if not more so. This was his home once, and watching it go up in flames was not a pleasant experience. It also put the thought of Claire, or worse, you going up in flames into his head, and that made him feel sick.

“(Y/N), Claire, stay here, help the civilians,”

“Are you kidding!?”

“Douxie, we can help!”

You looked around. The civilians were, in fact, in need of help, and as much as you wanted to help your friends, the people needed you more. But that didn’t mean Claire had to stick with you. She was good in a fight, and you were more of a doctor. It just made sense for them to do this.

“Ok, you guys go, I’ll stay,”

“(Y/N)-”

You cut off Claire’s protests, “Ah, ah, no, we don’t have time for this, just-” you took a second to kiss Douxie, because you did have time for that, “Come back to me, ok?”

They both nodded, and you ran off in separate directions.

Healing calmed you. Sure, you could fight and whatever else, but healing was your passion. You hadn’t studied medicine for centuries for nothing. Taking on your role as a doctor cleared your mind. You were able to direct people to the safest places, protecting them from falling debris and fixing whatever wounds they had.

Then there was another explosion and your mind went fuzzy again. You didn’t feel any pain, so Douxie was probably fine, but you were still concerned. You ran back to where you’d left Steve and the knights, just in time to see the kid get himself knighted.

Everyone was alive, thank god, and they all appeared to be in decent condition, except for past Douxie who was passed out in a barrel.

“Do you have an explanation for that, or should I just assume you’re trying to give your past self head trauma?”

Douxie just laughed, and you hugged him, sticking with the head trauma theory because no other answer had been provided.

You relaxed into his hold, returning the hug, “Hey, can you do me a favour and never run into an exploding building again, please? Thank you,”

“I don’t plan on it, love,”

You smirked a little as you pulled away from his embrace, your hands remaining intertwined, “Good, would be worried if you did,”

Douxie laughed again, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you went to check on Claire and Steve.

It was just then that Merlin finally fucking noticed that his two apprentices were getting along. Even the old wizard had to admit, it was nice seeing you two not trying to murder each other. It really looked like that binding spell paid off.

A win for team Merlin.

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #almost a thousand years #aaty #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux #fluff #angst

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reylofanfictionanthology · 3 years

Photo

TO FIND YOUR KISS - AUTHOR REVEALS!

Here are your authors for this year’s exchange!

To Find Your Kiss collection on AO3 | Treats Masterpost

GIFT FIC MASTERPOST

- Reap the Stars by XarisEirene for abbytheatre08

He will be remembered, and they will not.

Call him The Light Bearer and Joy Giver. Call him He Who Loved and Laid Down His Life. Call him Ben.

- we are question marks that hang above the endless unexplained by LittleLostStar for AlwaysEverlark

- Eighty Bucks Says Sweetheart by strangeallure for Amoreusou

Ben likes puzzles. Rey needs help with a bunch of them. Good thing it's a slow day at the office.

- Seldom Visions by SpaceWaffleHouseTM for Andrina_Nightshade

- The Dyad by Lady_of_Haven for aneighthdomain

- The Delegation by Vivien for aNerdObsessed

A humanitarian delegation from Naboo arrives at Niima Outpost. Rey is skeptical, to say the least.

- Saudade: The Love That Remains by shipperofdarkness for AnneAnna

Saudade (n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains"

In those first few weeks, everything had been muddled in a haze as the Resistance tried to rebuild all that had been lost. Rey had buried herself in the work. It’s what she’d always done. Don’t think of your parents, don’t think of waiting, scavenge and repeat.

But it’s different.

Her parents hadn’t wanted her.

He had.

Her parents hadn’t loved her.

He had.

And in his wake, the wound had split Rey’s soul to the bone, like the scar she’d given him all those moons ago. It's a blessing. And a curse. And all she has left. It’s the love that remains.

- i don't want you like a best friend by irridesca for anopendoor

But Rey can’t really be upset—and she is totally, unequivocally not upset—that Ben's bringing someone because, well.

She is, too.

- Love is Weakness by crossingwinter for bittersnake

“He’s someone I found on my recent trip to Corellia,” Rey replies placidly, her face practiced in its boredom. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Love is weakness,” her grandfather reminds her, the way he has for years. It’s why he doesn’t love her. He will not be weak. It’s why she doesn’t love him, either.

- in sickness and in health (with health being less likely) by thehobbem for BlueButterflyKisses

Deciding to spend the rest of their lives together is the easy part for both Rey and Ben; the trouble is in how to propose.

- Snowed In by darlingreadsalot for Blueyedgurl

- Curses, Comforts and Capybaras by Andrina_Nightshade for Bombastique

Arrogant CEO bites off more than he can chew when he angers a witch... And suddenly finds himself transformed into a capybara. Can kindhearted wildlife rehabber Rey Niima help him break the curse?

- To Heal a Broken Soul by Reykenobi68 for Cat2000

Ben survives the fallout of Exegol, but his connection to the physical world is in danger. Rey tends to him as she searched for a way to heal him.

- holding me like water in your hands by literallynoonecares for Ceallaigh

After Hux finds out Ben killed Snoke, Hux encases Ben in Carbonite. Rey refuses to let Ben stay frozen forever so she mounts a rescue.

- Like a Thief in the Night by firelord65 for chagrins

Their bond won't let them be alone. At least this time it's the middle of the night and they can't get into a shouting match.

- The Chance by darknessvisible for Crysania

- Awake by QueenOfCarrotFlowers for cuddlesome

Something inside him is awake, and something inside her is about to wake up.

An alternate interrogation scene.

- darkness rises, and light to meet it by politicalmamaduck for czechia

After the throne room, Jedi Ben Solo and Kira Ren meet again a year later.

- Not Quite a Fairytale by Crysania for DarkMage13

Rey lets a stranger use the phone of the café she works at late one night. It changes the whole course of her life.

- The Canvas of Your Skin by tearoomsaloon for darlingreadsalot

She was incapable of touching him without drawing blood, it seemed. Lines like vermillion paint streaked where her fingers sketched down the contours of his face, his back, and now his chest.

In which a Force bond is splintered, a resurrection goes wrong, a kiss is forgotten, and two almost-lovers avoid speaking for the better half of a year.

- You Won't Escape Me ('Cause I Set You Free) by DarkMage13for DoorKeeper9

“W-What are you doing?” She would have been more irritated if she wasn’t shivering.

Kylo rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to let hypothermia kill you.”

“S-Stripping me is not going to kill me? That makes n-no sense.”

Rey needs a kyber crystal and Kylo is trying to prevent her from getting into more life-threatening situations. It's definitely not because he cares about her. Nope.

- Fleeing the Storm by Padawan_Writer for driverfever

But her suitor and revolutionary Hux won’t give her up so easily. Hounded by revolutionaries and falling in love, Rey and Ben must use all their wits to flee Paris and make it to England.

- Equal Measure by misszeldasayre for dustoftheancients

- Benimina Solo's Late On-Set Force Ability by MissCoppelia for Evangel10n

- Splatter by DoorKeeper9 for expendable

“You’re Palpatine’s girl,” he says coldly.

“His chief of staff, yes.” Rey’s eyes narrow. “And you have your hand on my ass, Kylo. Kindly take it off.”

“Or what?”

AKA powerful corporate rivals Kylo and Rey put the hate in love/hate.

- The Haunted Mirror by AlwaysEverlark for FangirlintheForest

When Rey travels to UK to attend the reading of his grandfather will, a grandfather she didn't know existed until that very moment, she finds a house, and a old story that will haunt her...

- i'm your secretary by OccasionallyCreative for firelord65

- and they danced across the sky by chagrins for flipflop_diva

When he was still a child, he constantly watched the blue butterflies as they danced in the sky.

But that’s another life. Another world. Another time. Another, another, another.

And Kylo's no longer a child.

No. He welcomes the darkness now. Embraces it.

- Finding The Answer by Cat2000 for FrenchMartiniPlease

Rey pines for Ben Solo…so why does her soulmate mark always drain of colour whenever she gets close to him?

- Almost Unforgettable by maq_moon for HopeRebel

It'll take the combined efforts of gumshoes, a flatfoot, a washed-up Hollywood starlet, and more to get to the bottom of this bad business. In the end, these things always come back to the beginning.

- The Curl of a Sigh by okpianist for irridesca

- and they were roommates by myownlittleinfinity for Lady_of_Haven

When Ben loses a bet to his roommate, Rey, he has to eat her out for 30 days.

- torn away from you (my heart is broken) by bittersnake for lakerose

The Force binds more than minds.

- 3 Days in Vienna by anopendoor for Like_A_Dove

- If You Take Me flipflop_diva by literallynoonecares

Rey sighed wistfully as she watched her two friends lean in toward each other as they danced, their lips meeting and melding together as they seemed to become one person instead of two separate beings. She had seen them kiss so many times, but this kiss … it was special.

“I just want someone to kiss me like that,” she mused softly to herself, her eyes not leaving her friends.

“I could make that happen if you wanted.”

- Confidence and Desire by MBlair for LittleLostStar

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow.” - Carrie Fisher

- Love brightens even the most monstrous parts of ourselves by Lutrosis for LRRH17

- Your Sweetness Comes With Sugar on the Side by AnneAnna for Lutrosis

- Allegories, or Allusions to Real Life by czechia for maq_moon

- We’ve Met Before by PoliticalPadmé (magnetgirl) for MBlair

Rey and Ben meet, move in together, get engaged, and marry.

- Invite the Wild In by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily) for midwinterspring

(The ancient Sith had some interesting rituals.)

- Purim Party by Lorelei713 for MissCoppelia

- The Banished Heart by stellardarlings for misszeldasayre

On Rey of Niima’s nineteenth name day, Jakku gains a new wizard.

- The Smuggler's Bride by tmwillson3 for MyJediLife

- Annabel Lee by driverfever for myownlittleinfinity

- with my body i thee worship by yodalorian for niennathegrey

- the losing game by KoreRosemarinus for no_big_deal

- standing right in front of you by reylotrash711 for notkellymarie

- the good, the bad, and the smuggling by Priestly for OccasionallyCreative

It’s like his dad used to say: bounty hunters are nothing but trouble, kid.

- Whatever our souls are made of...his and mine are the same by writergenie for Padawan_Writer

Ben and Rey meet only after Kylo has defected from the First Order and returned to the Resistance and his mother. Will the dyad still find a way to be?

- You're My Dark Princess by Evangel10n for persimonne

Five years after the defeat of the First Order, Rey is no longer the woman we knew. Having no war to fight, Rey turns to contract killing. Not quite a bounty hunter, no, an assassin is not that honorable. She no longer relies on the Light side to guide her or the Dark, not claiming either side. She is a completely different person, lost, angry, numb. One day she is hired to kill a man she knew intimately, but he doesn’t remember her. What is she going to do? She has two choices here, kill the past or save a man she thought was dead.

- They say that only the dead have seen the end of war by Juulna and Annaelle for politicalpadmé

A Force Ghost Ben/Rey love story, with a side of rebuilding the galaxy.

- Cicatrix by cuddlesome for Priestly

Getting cut up by Rey on Starkiller awakens something in Kylo.

- I Will Always Be With You by Ceallaigh for Prix

She carried his child. The tiny spark of light woven with darkness, just like her. Just like his father.

—————

The world has gone dark More times than you Or your mother Or your grandmother Can remember. And every hurricane That was meant to be The end of it all Had instead ended In sunshine again.

So believe me When I say; You will survive this And the next one too.

World’s End—Nikita Gill

- all my daydreams are disasters by persimonne for QueenOfCarrotFlowers

- on what ground I was founded (when I first saw you) by midwinterspring for redbelles

Kylo dreams of Rey after the Battle of Crait. And the yearning is mutual...

Some Force Bond dream smut inspired by "Shrike" and "NFWMB" by Hozier.

- Last Summer by Abbytheatre08 for Reykenobi68

- The Long Way Home by VR_Trakowski for reylotrash711

In the aftermath of Exegol, Ben and Rey are divided by misunderstandings. It will take time and danger for them to work things out.

- Under the moonlight by Takekurabehime for shariling

- Fallen by Reykenobi68 for shipperofdarkness

Prompt: Devil!Ben and Angel!Rey or Angel!Ben and Devil!Rey. How do these two on completely opposite sides fall in love and defy worlds to be together?

- come away with me by HopeRebel for silentfleur

Rey owns a tinker shop, but her life changes when she meets Ben Solo and is cursed by a witch. Not necessarily in that order.

- A Picture of Me Without You by the-reylo-void (Anysia) for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

"I suppose I'd somehow struggle through / But I'd hate to picture myself without you."

- Lips Raw With Love by MyJediLife for stellardarlings

Their kiss on Exegol wasn't their first kiss...

Nor would it be their last.

- Everyone Makes Divine Mistakes by no_big_deal for Takekurabehime

- Glitter & Gold by aionimica for TearoomSaloon

- To kiss like lovers do by FrenchMartiniPlease for the-reylo-void (Anysia)

- Snow Turns To Rain by aneighthdomain for thehobbem

“I’m not sure,” he said finally, shaking his head. “I’m happy...” he said, and she tensed a little, so he continued, “with my work. I’m glad I’m doing what I love, but....”

“But?”

“But it wasn’t the only thing I loved.”

- Change the Dance by expendable for theresonatinglight

- Meet Me in the Woods by FangirlintheForest for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)

- permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) by theresonatinglight for Thursdaygirl

- show me the stars. by shariling for tmwillson3

“Now that’s the truth,” says Poe, who Finn invited about half an hour ago to keep him company.

“People have bad taste, I don’t know what to say.” Huffing, Rey scrolls through her phone with more intent. “Neither of you are helping me, anyway.”

“What’s the problem?” says Poe.

“Rey thinks her hot neighbor hates her —”

“He does hate me.”

“ — When really he’s been flirting with her for the past, oh I don’t know, how long have you lived there?”

- I realized that I need you, I wondered if I could come home by Blueyedgurl for VR_Trakowski

Rey is doing exploration work for the Resistance, searching for force sensitive planets so any force sensitives that they find have a place to train.

One day, midflight she finds a slip of paper with the elegant scrawling words of the ones that came before. The ones that she found when Ben still roamed the galaxy.

When she lands on a dark and barren planet she is forced to face the feelings she thought she buried.

- Shadows of the Moon by dustoftheancients for walkingsaladshooter

The hallways got darker, the corridors grew longer. Shadows stretched across the walls. The ghosts of Breha Manor grew each night.

Rey clutched her necklace. Ben met her gaze.

And every night, there was weeping.

- show the way (the world could be) by niennathegrey for writergenie

When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really is a line between light and dark after all.

(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)

- why don't we go (somewhere only we know) by LRRH17 for XarisEirene

- renewed, transfigured, in another pattern by midwinterspring for yodalorian

Rey mourns on Tatooine while Ben is stuck in the World Between Worlds. But neither of them are alone, and blue butterflies light a path back to each other.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #rffa writers #reylo fanfic #reylo fic #to find your kiss #master post #mod post #photo edit

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