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Fantasy Cosmical Glitch ( ellarose & starboob. )

A crack splits across the sky, resembling the ones that lined Lettie's face as their dream fell to pieces. (Like a flash of lightning, the memory of Juno's parting smile replaces the thought. It's not her that's broken. Their dream isn't broken, either. It's this place. How it gets inside of her, picking at every flaw like a stray thread until she unravels.) The darkness beyond it isn't particularly inviting, nor is the mysterious synth noise that booms from it. Yet the faerie knows that she'll have to travel through it to reach her pirate. She might be exhausted, but there is no distance she wouldn't travel to meet her again. Her phantom wings glow as they flicker and flutter behind her... but she glances hesitantly at the chains locked around her ankles.

"On three, we're gonna open our eyes and let the nightmare take us. If this thing is protecting the heart, we have to break it like we've done with those other nightmares. It's gonna need to be more ridiculous than impromptu concerts, races, and pasta yetis in fur bikinis. Got it?"

They've done it before, they can do it again. One last time. Just one last time before their dreams become a reality. In the water, Lettie can see reflections of herself in the past-- flopping facedown on the floor after various long days. (But she always got back up again. She always got back up.) Scraping together what remains of her strength, Lettie brings herself to stand, glaring at the golden chains that threaten to hold her down. It's time for her to catch up. Before long, the rhythm of Juno's heartbeat rattles the chains, clink, clink, clink, clink-- harder and harder until they shimmer and shatter to pieces. Tiny gems of gold ripple out from her ankles and tumble into the water with a satisfying splash.

Asmodeus's hold on her slips. Lettie doesn't know why she knows that it was him, but she knows. Call it instinct. She's had enough experience by now to know a scheming creep when she smells one. Not to mention the gold chains are his favorite gimmick.The demon's still out there and he's doing whatever he can to shape this world as he sees fit. He studied it with fervor in that lab of his-- a facet of the power he's been chasing this whole time. Of course he would devise a way to use it against her.

Those poisoned flowers, that mental hell Asmodeus trapped her in, and now this...? Stars. It's no wonder she's so fucking tired. To hell with how or why. While it's beyond annoying that the bastard couldn't just stay dead when she killed him the first time, the knowledge that he's still out there is certainly incentive to sharpen her claws and bust out of this place. He's not the only one who can play this game. Anyone can take control if their will is strong enough.

Olette Lyrcoris Radiata is filled with enough spite for that man that she's going to make this world her bitch.

Moreover, Lettie won't let him take anyone else away from her.' Juno, hold on. I'm coming.' A translucent, rainbow string sprawls down from the crack in the sky. Knowing she'll find her wife at the other side (her wife!!) the faerie takes flight, following where it leads, absorbing the colors and magicking herself a new ballgown as she rises, decked out in shimmery butterflies ...What? She's about to make an emotional comeback! She simply wouldn't be herself is she didn't take the opportunity to do so in style. That and there's an undeniable power that comes from being well-dressed. This strategy hasn't failed her yet.

From the outside, the cocoon is aglow with a galaxy of multicolored stars before breaking apart. Lettie twists this way and that as she emerges, her dazzling butterfly skirt swishing with each motion. The faerie narrows her eyes and raises her arms like a goddess of revenge. How dare he touch her wife? Her wings flower out behind her. 'I'm sorry, Juju. I know I've kept you waiting, but I'm here now.'

Lettie shows it by directing thousands of tiny blue butterflies up towards the clouds. Together, they cluster together to create the shape of a high heel shoe. When they disperse, they leave behind a solid, giant replica of the very same style of shoe that the faerie is wearing now. And it hangs directly above Asmodeus. Just as Juno's shield shatters beneath the weight of his attacks, she throws her arms down, directing the shoe to smash the spider demon like... well, like a bug.

Furiously, the faerie directs the shoe to stomp down repeatedly before she twists the heel back and forth, grinding his writhing body into the dirt until he stills. Asmodeus vanishes into a pitiful puff of smoke... but that's not the last they'll see of him. (Unfortunately.)

"He'll be back... Tch. He really should have taken the form of a cockroach. It'd suit him much better." Lettie quips, brushing her hands over her gown with a 'hmph'. (Though she's always been inclined to save spiders from such a fate, she took great pleasure in crushing that one specifically.) She shakes her head, flying to Juno's side, checking her head to toe for injuries. "I'm here. Are you okay?"
 
Juno sinks into the gravel-sand with relief. The arm that had once been holding up a shield falls heavily over her head; the rest of her limbs sprawl out soon after like she’s a starfish. She lets her eye close, listening to the sound of her own heartbeat as it slows back to its normal rhythm. The moments from before play again behind her eyelids. The angry look on Asmodeus’s face each time he brought that sword arm down on her is burned in her mind and a phantom of it shows each time she blinks. She can still feel the reverberations of his blows in her bones. Though she knows this is not over, she hasn’t the motivation to get up just yet. In another fight, that could mean death, but Lettie is here. She’ll protect her while she takes her minute.

When she feels the air stir and settle around her, she opens her eye and looks up at her wife, searching for her freckle and checking the sharpness of her features. It’s her. Without a shadow of a doubt, it’s her. She checks only out of habit. She checks to be safe. She won’t risk their future over one avoidable mistake. “You look like a princess.”

Lethargically, she peels herself from the ground and immediately leans over to rest her head against Lettie’s hip. Rocks plink off her armor and the few patches of skin that are exposed; though it’s what’s beneath that is actually of concern. Juno disguises it well enough, but each movement disturbs her shredded back and sends pulses of radiating icy-hot stings over it. She doesn’t hide this on purpose, it’s only habit. To her, these are only flesh wounds (she’s been through worse) and yet something tells her that Lettie will be cursing under her breath when she takes a look after this is all over. (She just cares so damn much about her pirate. Hopefully this is the last time she’ll ever have to worry about Juno’s safety.) “Mostly fine. Just have some scrapes on my back and arms. I can still fight.”

She finally lifts herself from the ground, using Lettie’s shoulder for support. Just as Lettie had done earlier, she takes in the full sight of her wife, quietly checking her for injuries and relieved when she finds no more than were there before. ‘I wish we could be in bed right now. What happened to that nice cottage from before?’

The nightmare around them reacts to Juno’s wish, unfurling a new landscape over the island. One with soft grass instead of rough gravelly sand. A gentle breeze sifts through Juno’s shaggy waves and she spins around to take in the rest. This is why they fight.

Yet, something begins to gnaw at Juno the longer she stares at the newly transformed landscape. ‘How’d we even get here?’ She hasn’t forgotten that they’re trapped in a nightmare; what she wonders is how that even happened. Usually, the cube fucks up and neglects to tell them that they’re traveling to a fully corrupted world and that’s how they end up stumbling through nightmare worlds and barely making it out alive. This time, there should not have been a world to travel to. They were already on Avangeline and Avangeline is not corrupted (with nightmares). They woke up and had a relatively normal morning and then…

And then they were back at the beginning.

She knows it doesn’t necessarily matter how they got here now that they are here, but something just feels off about that detail. As her mind lingers on this, Abigail strolls out of their little green cottage pushing a baby stroller full of blackened bananas. She whistles a little tune and does a little jig with her hips as she walks down the stone step path. “Howdy, Cap’m! Have you found the Maestro yet?”

Ah. The little bastard. Call it a hunch, but she knows it’s his fault they’re here. (Without proper notice too.) Scraping even further back in her memories, she recalls Abigail mentioning something about finding him and then she exploded into spiders. (Fuck spiders.) But was that even really Abigail? Is this even really Abigail? When she turns to find Missile Launcher chasing Prissy through the marigolds, they seem to be acting themselves but… ‘What’s real? Is anything off about them?’

Not noticeably so. Maybe the skeleton knows something (if it’s her).

“Obviously fuckin’ not, Ab. We’d be on our sugar getaway,” (honeymoon) “if we knew where that little bastard is.”

“Fret narry amore!” Abigail pushes the stroller away, throwing it into a tree that bursts into colorful pebbles that then morph into miniature rock bros. The stroller and bananas puff into white doves that take flight and then explode into fireworks. “Hide and seek is my speciality.”

“Counting clouds is your speciality.”

“I contain multitudes, Cap’m.”

Before the headache can fully bud, the ground groans beneath them and a crack splits right under Juno’s feet. With help from Lettie, she’s able to jump back on solid ground before the newly forming chasm can swallow her whole. It stretches and widens, taking more and more territory for itself—their cottage, the miniature bros, the space cadet, their marigolds and more are inhaled by the ever-widening mouth. From the depths of it, a low rumbling laugh taunts them and when the winds blow, they sound like scraping chains.

Juno reaches for Lettie’s hand and squeezes. “It’s super shit bananas time, princess. If you still need a minute, tell me. Okay? You’re still a fuckin’ badass.” But even if Juno could give her that minute, this world is determined to take it.

Razor sharp teeth burst through the jagged lip of the chasm, forming into a smiling mouth. “We’ve been waiting for you, Olette.” A pink tongue swipes over the chasm lips. “I can almost taste you, sweet fae child. I canno—”

Suddenly, the mouth hiccups a green butterfly (Wings, formerly known as Wormy). Then it belches up two spiders—Daphne and Velma (or whatever their names were; fuck spiders). Juno stares down the chasm, willing more and more of their demon bug army to fly out of the mouth, down to the giant death’s-head hawkmoth. Juno immediately boards it when it swoops near her.

“What—” It doesn’t get another word out as it vomits rainbow sherbet, whip cream, and disgustingly red cherries.

Juno swerves out of the blast zone on her mount, making sure that Lettie doesn’t get in it either. “Bet I can out weird you. Winner gets to pick our sugar getaway itinerary.”
 
Ew, ew, ew! The giant pink tongue slices through their fantasy like a knife, sending chills of disgust cascading down Lettie's spine. There's no way she's letting that thing get anywhere near her. Juno has her back, thank the stars, and smothers the creep's words with her wonderful, creative mind. Although it starts getting gross as insects spill out in hoards, followed by the sticky sweet goo blended by various desserts and cherries. The faerie breathes a little sigh of relief when her wife thoughtfully whisks her out of the magical vomit splash zone-- sparing her (and her outfit) from ruin. Lettie's about to thank her for the save when Juno prompts her with a bet.

"Oh." A familiar glimmer flashes in Lettie's eyes. Her lips twitch into a devious smirk and she twirls a strand of hair around her finger as she contemplates it. This little faerie cannot resist a challenge-- especially when prompted by her wife. Even though she's tired as hell, she's game. "You're on, cupcake." But what the heck is a sugar getaway? Could she mean--? "But I think you actually mean..." Then she rethinks correcting her, shaking her head. Maybe it's a Desdemonia thing. (But then again... it's probably just a Juju thing.) "Y'know what? Never mind. I'm totally gonna be the one who plans our sugar getaway. Just you wait."

Once the chasm mouth coughs up the last of the dessert, Lettie doesn't let it get another word in before she's willing a rainbow mist to come billowing out. A sparkly sea of champagne follows it, dotted with paper sailboats. Cubes in fancy party hats sit atop the little boats. Occasionally they dip mini champagne flutes into the sea and chug them down. (Or are they absorbing the alcohol? Cubes don't have mouthes.) "Ugh..." The mouth only has time to sputter and groan before more champagne comes spilling out, followed by Lady Vengeance herself. The skeleton crew are partying aboard the deck, having a marvelous time, pretending to be drunk (as they do).

Lettie grabs Juno's hand as it sails closer to them, jumping down from the giant death's-head hawkmoth and onto the deck.

"Inez." Lettie summons the skeleton to her side-- already glamouring her bones with the cheetah print she loves so dearly. "Would you be a dear and prepare the canons for us?"

"I cannot be a deer, my dear, but I will gladly fire up the canons for you." Inez admires her make-over and salutes. Then she deviously taps the ends of her fingers together. "Shall I give them the Duchess treatment?"

"Yes. Let's fuck shit up." Lettie replies, eager and unhesitating. She hugs onto Juno's arm while the skeleton saunters off to do her task, tracing her fingertips over her wife's armor and thinking about the skin just beneath it. (Her muscles, yes, but also the scrapes she'd mentioned earlier.) "Do you need some bandages?" Using the world's magic, she summons a box of the cat (or deformed rat, as Juno would say) bandages into her hand. She can't help the concern that bubbles to her surface.

While it's hard to say for sure whether Lettie summoned the real skellies or not, she has confidence that they've got them. As long as she believes they've got them, they'll have their backs. That's how this magic works, isn't it?

"Am I a joke to you? Soon, you will be--" The canons fire off towards the chasm before they can worry about it much longer. A mix of confetti, bomberflies, and bananas in flowing red capes. (Super bananas for super shit bananas time, naturally.) A flurry of explosions rain down over the chasm, giving it even more to contend with. The insect army joins in the barrage, along with a gargantuan Prissy who blasts rainbow swords from the unicorn horn on her head. The blades get stuck in the disgusting pink tongue, chopping it to bits. "--fuck."

The tattered remains of the tongue thrash before falling limply to the ground. Lettie snickers at the ridiculous she's summoned up, grinning up at Juno as if to ask if she can beat that. She stands on her tip-toes and gives her a triumphant peck on the cheek. "That ought to keep him busy for a bit. Now let me see those arms of yours, missy."
 
Juno inhales sharply as they land on the deck. Her clothes and armor brush harshly over the injuries littering her body and, in true Juno fashion, she does not let this stop her. She muscles and breathes through the throbs and stings, focusing her mind on what’s immediately in front of them, because that is all that matters. It might be a war of nonsense right now, and it is still their last fight.

She hopes, at least. ‘Goddess, stars, whoever might be out there listening…’ All she wants is a soft life with an even softer place to rest her weary head. She’s done clawing for her survival and trading her morals for her life; and she will wrest this future for herself and her wife if she must. After this, she won’t use her body as a weapon or a shield in order to protect what she has to love. (And what she has to love grows by the day.) ‘Please, let this be the last time.’

It’s a rare, sincere prayer. Juno isn’t even convinced that anyone might be listening. But then again, she already has a goddess with her. The goddess of revenge is right by her side.

As she peers over the edge of the ship to witness the chaos her wife has created with that genius mind of hers, a small smile tugs at her lips. They’ve got this. The smell of champagne hits Juno and though she’s never had it, she can’t help herself when she asks, “Can we have champagne at our wedding?”

However, her smile and that whim soon disappears when Lettie turns on her and summons a box of those feral rat bandages. ‘Shit.’ In place of her smile is the wide eye of a guilty child who has been caught in a lie—not that she lied on purpose, but faced with her wife’s obvious concern, she realizes that her injuries might be a little, tiny bit more than just “some scrapes and bruises.” Especially when she considers that her arms and thighs are still aching and vibrating from Asmodeus’s strikes. Juno stands stock still, the stupidly tall pirate capitulating before the tiny faerie. “Um, yeah… Okay.”

When she makes the armor disappear she knows in an instant that it’s far worse than she made it sound—Lettie’s eyes are shocked wide and that expression soon morphs into cheek puffs that not even Juno can de-puff. (And she has every right to be upset. The pirate looks like someone’s taken a cheesegrater to her skin.) “It was Asmodeus’s fault,” Juno quickly reminds her, rubbing the back of her neck, in hopes that might divert some of her wife’s ire. Not that she gets the sense Lettie is upset with her, but it does occur to her that they can use this anger to inspire the goddess of revenge within her. “Fucker threw me around and shit.”

Yet before Lettie can so much as mutter a single swear under her breath, the pirate’s armor is layering back over her body. Her features become hardset in an instant. She wraps her arms around her wife and throws them both on the deck just as a wave of champagne leaps up from the pools below. As it collides with Lady, it morphs into a hand then grips the ship, pulling her down to the ground. Metal scrapes and crunches as Lady is dragged towards the vicious gnashing mouth.

Juno, archer quick, collects Lettie from the heap they’ve become and sets her on her feet as they race, hand in hand, to safety. Juno calls for her moth mount while Lettie takes to the skies on her own. The champagne hand lets go of Lady and whips around, stretching out towards the duo. The pair of them zigzag, twist, and dive to avoid its reach, but in a nightmare that doesn't matter.

It's sudden. Juno doesn't realize what's happened until she tries to gasp and sucks in a mouthful of champagne, flooding her with the urge to cough. Her lungs burn and she refuses them. 'Relax, kid.' Eliza's voice echoes in her mind loud enough that it gives her the pause she needs to regain control. The champagne fist holding Juno glitches, flickering rapidly between champagne and bubbles, ultimately giving over to suds. They cradle the pirate and gently set her down.

She coughs up champagne, gasps, wipes the shit from her eyes all while running away from the bubbles that had once been her ally, feeling herself lose control over them as they begin to steam. “Fuck! Shit, fuck—” She mutters a string of curses under her breath, pumping her legs faster as a wall of boiling steam rises behind her. She turns once, glaring at the wall as it comes for her. It falls into a shower of glittery pink and blue sparkles, yet the nightmare magic persists. As quick as Juno is to take control, the nightmare yanks it back, turning the shower of sparkles into a shower of glass almost immediately. Juno ducks, covers her head and then forms a helmet for protection. ‘Fuck—do better, Juju. You’re supposed to be going all out.’

With a sweep of her arm, she throws the glass to the side and changes her outfit into a fluffy pink bunny onesie. (One that is not too dissimilar from the one a baby Lettie once wore.) She completes the look with a set of butterfly wings and some spikes shooting out from her shoulders. (For the Juno touch.) The discarded glass shivers and bounces over the ground, coiling into a tight vortex. Juno digs her heel into the dirt and the glass tornado turns into whirlwind of flowers. Their centers open into vicious mouths so Juno has them belch bikinis with literal spaghetti straps.

But the nightmare is relentless in its efforts, thwarting each of the pirate’s attempts for control, forcing her to push the limits of her own ridiculousness. It doesn’t matter if she turns the grass into a field of yodeling pickles. Those just turn into goblins that turn into rude gnomes. (They won’t stop pulling down their pants to moon everyone.)

“Lette,” Juno grits her teeth together. She’s slipping. A vertical split rips open in the air and a bubbling sea of molten gold pushes through the tear. As the gold starts to leak through and widen the opening, hands, faces, feet press against the surface, trying to escape. (Juno refuses to look, knowing it'll be torment.) "What do you got?"
 
The champagne fist might as well be holding Lettie's heart hostage when she realizes Juno's been clutched within it. And before the faerie can fly to her wife's side, golden chains are shot at her from every conceivable angle at her in the sky. Ugh. As if she's going to let that bastard put her in chains a-freaking-gain. No way in hell! With a scowl twisted on her red lips, she turns a graceful pirouette in the sky. Her princess gown swishes around her legs, billowing out like dreamy clouds of glitter and unleashes a hazy mist that effectively conceals her from view. Whenever the chains enter the foggy domain she's created, they move in slow motion.

With rhythmic flicks of her finger, Lettie leisurely transforms them one by one as they come at her. Daisy chain, pearl necklace, barbed wire, french fries, hair extensions, a flock of enraged chickens, confetti, a laundry line of lace lingerie, bathroom ghosts, seashells with wings. She sends them all flying in reverse, getting them tangled up with whatever force it was that sent them for her in the first place. It's about damned time she wrestled her way out of her flop era and show these bastards who's in charge. The mischievous little faerie snickers at the chaos of it all, coyly twisting a lock of hair around her finger. Maybe she's starting to enjoy this... or maybe she would enjoy it better if the memory of Juno's injuries weren't still so new and vivid in her mind. 'Juju, where--'

"Eek!" Lettie shrieks, scandalized when she looks over just in time to catch one of the gnomes dropping his pants. She sucks in a sharp breath that says 'yikes', hiding her blushing face in her hands. After a beat, she peeks through the space between her forefinger and middle finger. They won't stop unless she does something about it. "No. No sir." She waggles her fingers in their general direction with the utmost urgency and the gnomes turn into pastel squirrels in tuxedos. Now they behave like only the gentlest of gentlemen. (Except for one among them that insists on acting out, wearing a bikini and heart shades, breakdancing and making monkey noises.) That's much better. "Whew."

However, this isn't the only situation that begs for Lettie's touch. Her opal eyes bug out she finally spots Juno. What the fuck...

"Juju! Who did that to you!?" Lettie gasps. She might be referring to whoever it was who pushed her to the point of exhaustion-- but knowing her, it's also in part because of the outfit she's wearing. Subjecting her badass pirate captain wife to a bunny onesie! Unforgivable. Nothing's going to stop her from fixing this. Not even that horrible tear in the sky, overflowing and threatening to drag them towards it. Nuh uh.

First thing's first. Let's stop these shenanigans. The faerie raises her arm in the air and forms a finger gun that she aims at the tear in the sky. From her fingertips, she shoots a vibrant beam of electric blue and pink raver hearts. Everything they touch moves in slow motion. The glowing hearts fall all around, whimsical and lively like lights at a club. They enlarge and stretch outward, spanning across the entire world. Time moves slower and slower until it draws to a full stop at her command. Once that's taken care of, she smirks and blows the sparkly smoke from the tips of her manicured nails.

"It's my world now, bitch." Lettie sighs with the exasperation of an inconvenienced goddess, pulling out her nail file like the fucking faerie she is. She glares in warning at the clouds, where she assumes their enemies like to think they're towering over them. "And I don't think I want you living in it." With the flick of her fingers, she turns her nail file into a butterfly knife. She slips it into the pocket of her gown before drifting down from the clouds to stand beside her wife.

"Juno, are you okay?" Lettie asks, her legendary levels of sass shifting to the purest concern in a matter of seconds. She purses her lips, running her finger along her arm. It's teddy-bear soft. "Stars, you're adorable. I know you must hate that." She shakes her head in sympathy. While her wife does look impossibly cute-- and while that's not exactly a bad thing-- she knows it'd boost morale if she were fighting in something she felt her best in. (Like, just look at what miracles her princess dress has worked for her!) "Let me-- ngh."

Lettie collapses down to her knees and then over her thighs until her forehead's pressed to the ground. Coughing blood that stains her lips a deeper red, she holds the sides of her head as a cacophony of senseless static and white noise pounds in her ears. Her vision blurs and doubles when she notices the red spittle that dots her skirt. Fuck. It's bombs exploding in her brain, a noose drawing tight around her throat, and her wings torn in half all at once. Her blood's being lit on fire. It hurts. She gasps out, her heart pounding frantically as tears bead at the corners of her eyes. It's too much. They're focusing everything they have on bringing her down, on taking the power back into their own hands. Chains scrape against the ground as they come slithering towards her at every angle like vipers and she screams out like a wounded animal. It's like she can feel their desire to control her blooming from within, wrapping around her insides like thorns that threaten to rip her open.

Through all of it, Lettie's somehow able to find Juno's hand through this madness. Once she finds her, she holds on tight. 'Juno, it hurts so much.' They're only coming at her this hard because they're feeling threatened. Because they're getting so fucking close to that future they've been fighting for. Unfortunately, holding time still isn't nearly as simple as holding her wife's hand. The sky is trembles and burns gold-red, as if it's about to unleash hell itself. Lettie can feel the world rebelling against her, Asmodeus and the Reaper working in tandem to steal it back from her. (Fuck them both.) '...But I got this. I can still fight. Let's end this together.' With a grunt, she digs inside of herself until she reaches the fury at the heart of her. It doesn't take long at all to reach it. Warmed by the pain she's in, she feeds her hungry fire with memories.

The chains, metaphorical and real, that held her prisoner. All the fumes she was forced to inhale, making her pliant and docile as they hurt her at their leisure, preventing her from fighting back with the sharp claws and teeth she knows she possesses. Don't think she's forgotten the haunting torture chamber of a world they'd created especially for her. (It doesn't escape her that they're resorting to the same tactics now-- focusing most of their energy on Juno in attempt to break her. Cruelly targeting the ones she loves the most, just as they'd done with Lina.) There are the godawful injuries her wife now possesses thanks to them. Stars-- Asmodeus let her think she killed her own mother, all while keeping her for his own pleasure for years and years. Oh, and how about all of the faeries whose lives he and the Reaper have destroyed?

Lettie's is just one horror story among thousands. How many tragic, fairytales gone wrong have these two been the villains of? It's dizzying. The thought makes her sick. It's fine time they slay this ugly, greedy, two-headed beast. 'I'm going to bury you.' She grits her teeth, her fingers tingling with warmth. 'I'm going to take so much fucking pleasure in burying you both.'

Honestly, the bunny onesie is just the cherry on top of a massive shit banana sundae. (...And to think she has no idea it was Juno who gave herself that outfit.)

Majestic as a goddess rising up to bless her people, the faerie climbs to her feet. (Picking herself back up for the very last time. Because they're never knocking her down again. She swears this is the last time.) A soft flower petal breeze sweeps up the messes around them. It bleaches her bloodstained dress, eases the storm in her mind, and transforms Juno's bunny onesie into a suit of armor that mimics Lettie's gown impeccably in design. The knight that matches her princess knight. Because, of course, she feels the need to polish her own outfit with an ornate breastplate and gilded gloves. For protection-- yes-- but also for fashion, bay-bee! With all the opal accents, it almost looks like they're appropriately dressed for another wedding. It only serves to remind her of everything she has to fight for here and now.

'For our future.' Behind them, Lettie summons three titanic gods. One is made up of silken ribbons and reaches out towards the tear in the sky, expertly lacing and tying it up in a pretty pink bow. That ought to hold it for a little while longer. The second is a shimmery being of mist, settling over the champagne sea to calm it before drying it out entirely in a hiss of smoke. The last is a massive knight, which stands ready with a sword and shield to defend them against anything that might come for them next.

'Juju, on the count of three, let's make a cube magnet.' Lettie reaches out to Juno, offering her an encouraging smile. They're gonna turn this around, damn it! Abby keeps asking them where the cube is. Although the skeleton is the sweetest little weirdo, while she rarely makes any sense whatsoever, the faerie has a hunch that listening to her just this once just might save their asses. 'A disaster magnet. I think we need that little bastard here if we're going to end this. End it just like we started it. Together.'
 
Fear trickles in and the pirate is powerless to stop it. It drips down the length of her spine, seeps into her skin and spreads until it has her in its grip. Sweat coats her palms as she stares at the impossibility of this nightmare with the grim recognition that neither of them are strong enough to tear it in two. ‘How are we going to heal the corruption if we can’t even get to the damn heart?’

Her wife squeezes her hand hard enough that it hurts. Yet Juno’s features remain frozen, never once reflecting that Lettie is hurting her—it’s nothing compared to the helplessness of knowing she can do nothing to alleviate the torture this magic is putting her wife through. (Even goddesses have been brought down before.) No face is present for her to punch. No chains exist for her to break. Nothing can be done. Her heart hikes up into her throat, bobbing as she swallows, her eye searching her wife’s features in hope for an answer that will never come. All she can do is endure, knowing that Lettie is tough as nails. She’s a survivor just as much as Juno is. She is the goddess of revenge.

More importantly, she’s the fucking faerie. And when she pushes herself back up to her feet, Juno is rising with her, her arms ready to support her if she needs someone to lean on. But she banishes whatever force had been coming down over her without any help from the pirate and Juno knows she’s ready when the floral wind swirls around them and magics their outfits. (This could only ever be Lettie’s doing.) She never corrects her wife’s belief that the nightmare is the one responsible for that onesie, because if it fuels the Inferno in her spirit, then Juno sees no reason to correct it. Not just yet anyway. They need anger to protect what they love.

Besides, staring at her wife in armor short circuits most of her mental faculties anyway. She barely notices the titans on their side and absently nods when Lettie suggests making a disaster magnet. It’s only when the ground shakes that the rest of her jolts back to her body and she whirls around, one arm held out protectively in front of her wife. (Not that she needs it. She’s the fucking faerie and she’s got this.)

Though, to be perfectly honest, Juno has no idea what Lettie means by creating a cube magnet and it doesn’t even seem like that’s going to matter. The mouth that has split open on the ground curls into a smile that continues to twist and twist, pulling everything towards its center. It winds the nightmare up like a piece of fabric and sucks it down its gullet into the unknown. The massive knight raises its sword to strike, but as the point comes down on the spiralling whirlpool, it flakes away and, soon, the knight is gone as well as the mists, the ribbons, the tear, everything.

The second Juno recognizes what’s happening, she turns on her heel to run, calling for the moth mount once more but not even taking to the skies can save them. The gravitational pull demands they follow. All Juno can do is leap from her mount to capture her faerie in her arms, ensuring they won’t be separated. (Nothing good ever comes when they’re apart.) Her arms squeeze Lettie tightly, burying her nose into the nape of her neck as they’re swallowed.

Her heart pinballs against her ribs as they plummet into the depths of the mouth. Pieces of the old world fall with them—fragments of their cottage; the skeletons having a tea party in midair, unbothered; Phillip practicing his pirouettes in the tutu Lettie requested for him.

If only it were all nonsense.

Along the column of the throat (she assumes), nightmarish scenes play out like threats. Her stomach lurches as one shows herself strapped down as her skin is shorn from the rest of her flesh. Worlds burn, complemented by the overwhelming smell of charred flesh and anguished screams that grate against her ears and wire guilt into her nerves. Visions of their family skewered on stakes rapidly pass by them. Their entrails spill from their bellies or are the very binding trapping them on the stake. Others show Lettie surrounded by demons. Juno closes her eyes before she can see more, covering Lettie’s just in case.

Her gut roils, blood burning through the overwhelming desire to surrender. That’s what they want and the joke is on them if they believe these cheap mind tricks will get either of them to balk, because these are the images of everyone’s fate if they fail. It’s every reason they ought to fight.

So when they finally reach the pit at the bottom, she does not let this slow her, even if all of her shaking with the force of earthquakes. She gathers them both from their landing, teetering on her legs like a newborn fawn. Her breath fogs out in front of her. A biting chill almost immediately seeps down to her bones. Juno reaches for the Major’s lighter on her supply belt and flicks it on, encouraging the flame to jump into her hand. Once in her palm, it races up one arm and down the other, lighting her arms on fire and providing the only source of heat and light. Along the walls, contorting, anguished faces slide down at a slow, torturous trickle. Then there's a...

B-dm. B-dm.

It’s faint. Juno almost misses it over her crackling flames, but when she catches it, it’s unmistakable. B-dm. B-dm. B-dm. She turns towards the heartbeat, squinting out into the dark depths of this pit and when she finally makes out the only other silhouette, a spotlight opens over it. Juno jerks backwards, bumping into Lettie as she does so—

In front of them is a mass of mutilated flesh and dark shadows. It takes no discernable shape (for now). Beneath the flesh portions, bugs, like centipedes, writhe and crawl under the skin. The thing groans lowly as the flesh bubbles, then a hand shoots out from the mess, slamming down and pushing it up. All of it shivers and ripples as it attempts to take form. Another hand, this one made of shadows, shoots out from the opposing side to join the first in supporting the creature as it rises. Then two legs appear as the rest of the body takes shape, a blend of Asmodeus and the Reaper both. The shadows solidify against his broken body, sticky and inky. At the center of the amalgam's chest is a narrow slit where Lettie once stuck a sword through. The tear widens as a purple heart pushes through, like it's trying to escape. More than that, the cube, of all bastards, is stuck on top of the heart with inky tendrils latching it into place. Occasionally, the cube will shake, breaking some of the bindings, but he seems powerless to do much more than that. (And that he’s not making some snarky quip about their timing says everything: Shit bananas.)

The Reaper’s inkblot form covers half of Asmodeus’s face, lending its scythe grin to the demon who should be dead. When they speak, their voice is layered. “Olette,” they greet. Their tongue swipes around their mouth and long strings of saliva drip down their chin. “Your frivolities will neither save you or your human. You do understand how fragile those creatures are, right? Or shall I demonstrate?”

They don’t just taunt. The contorting faces sliding down the walls glitch into Juno’s face in various states of distress and mutilation. Then the monster’s inky arm shoots out for the pirate and rather than run or step to the side, Juno shifts her foot back to brace. She throws up both arms, shooting torrents of orange at them. Some of the ink burns, but they’re largely unbothered, forcing Juno to draw her weapon before the hand can grab her. Her bone whip does nothing more than slap the appendage to the side and leaves her on the defensive.

She shifts the whip into a thick bone blade, meeting the arm as it tries to slash through her torso, knocking it back. Though for all her efforts, the sword only slides and skims over the whipping appendage. And it’s not the only arm attacking Juno. More tendrils sprout along Asmodeus’s spine, half diving towards the pirate and the other towards the faerie, purposefully dividing the duo.

Juno wills tendrils of her own flames to combat the inky ones. Each time her flares collide with the Reaper's, the pit brightens. She tries to make her way back towards her wife, and each time she does, the Reaper reacts with an onslaught that forces her away. She twists and slashes through the arms. One cuts across her cheek. Another gets her neck, right over Cathy's bite mark scar. It's not that the Reaper is getting faster, Juno is getting slower as her arms grow heavy and tired; as blood sweat starts to drip down from her hairline. Are they strong enough?

Regardless of fact, they'll have to be. In a last ditch effort to buy herself some reprieve, she throws out a handful of bone shards. When they hit the ground, some sprout into stakes that pierce through the tendrils and others form into gargantuan arms that wrestle with them. "Lette... You still got bomberflies to spare?"
 
They're together again... and then they're not.

Her frivolities. That's all the monstrous amalgamation of Lettie's worst fears have to say about her after she gathered the strength to resist and rise above their torturous methods again. (By now, she understands that's all they're ever going to say. Until she believes it as much as they do. Until she gives up.) Unfortunately for them, that ain't gonna happen. If they haven't learned their damned lesson by now, they're a lost fucking cause. And she's going to make sure that underestimating her will be the gravest mistake they ever make. She'll strangle them with lace, crush them under her high-heeled shoes, and see how they like her frivolities then! But first... bomberflies.

"I don't know." Lettie flies in hurried zigzags and cartwheels, narrowly avoiding the tendrils that come chasing after her. It's a constant effort to dodge them, leaving her little room to retaliate. "I think the Reaper... ate most of them. I don't know." In worlds where strange magic runs rampant, she struggles to keep track of her magic and what constitutes as nightmare magic. "I'll try to conserve whatever I have left for our finishing move." (...And here's to hoping that it doesn't finish her. But it's not like they haven't survived close calls before.)

"My, my. You're going to tire yourself out flying around like that." The voices taunt in unison, reverberations crawling under Lettie's skin like those freaky centipedes. The sound laps hungrily at her resolve. Her wings flutter furiously to keep her afloat and she starts to droop sleepily mid-flight. "Why don't you stay still for once?" One of the tendrils snares around her ankle. The others below writhe in eager anticipation, preparing to take full advantage of the situation to snare around her waist and wrists. Shit. "Your role in our grand plan is so simple, Olette. All you have to do go to sleep."

"And your grand plan is... what exactly? To be as disgusting as humanely possible?" Lettie snaps, flailing wildly in attempt to wake and free herself. (Not the sickest burn she's ever given, but give her a break. She's fighting for her life here!) Thinking fast, the faerie morphs the heel of her shoe into a knife and drives it into the the tendril, hacking her way through with a series of kicks. As soon as she's freed, she flies even higher to avoid the rest of them. "I already destroyed that horrid ritual you prepared. The faeries' souls have been freed. There's nothing left for you here... all you're doing now is throwing a tantrum 'cause you didn't get your way."

Lettie takes her butterfly knife from her pocket, using the world's magic to levitate it out in front of her. She wills it to multiply, until there are thirteen of them, and commands them to point towards the various tendrils. When she's certain about her aim, she sends them flying. They do hit their intended marks... but with a gross sluuuurp they're all absorbed into the amalgamation's body. Nothing else happens. Damn it.

"Oh, Olette. Foolish little fae child. We have the relic now." The monstrosity says with an obnoxious sniff, as if this explains everything. The cube tangled up in all their gunk starts to shiver and shimmer in response. A laugh rumbles from the creature's throat, sending a tremor over the ground. The darkness crumbles away piece by piece and a blinding and distinctive, cube-like light pierces through it. "The original. And look at all of this data you've collected for us."

Rapidly, their surroundings phase through worlds they've visited. The snowy plains where a candy house burns, burning brighter until the scene melts away into the obsidian world of floating volcanoes, minuscule villages and centipede women. (Dominos?) The candy currency world appears next, where a pack of children ride tricycles on the sidewalk. (Their clothes lack the distinctive, creative flair they had that night Lettie and Juno visited. Now is not the time to be thinking about that.) The sky falls like a tidal wave and drops them into the world of flying aquatic animals. The rest flash by at such a dizzying speed that Lettie can scarcely recognize them anymore.

It's everything at once... and then everything stops. They're plunged into a darkness so deep that Lettie can't even see the outline of her hand in front of her face. Once again, Juno's flames are the only source of light. (This, at least, comes as a small comfort to her.) Aside from that, there's nothing but the faint and ominous pounding of the heart. B-dm. B-dm. B-dm.

"The sources of all of these worlds..." The horrific amalgamation says, inhaling deeply. The Reaper's eerie eyes blink open, overflowing with the cube's light. It beams out towards them, burning with the intensity of a thousand suns. Glyphs of various shapes and sizes float around from within. "Right at our fingertips."

The world rebuilds itself again, like thousands of magic scales changing their colors. While grass is beginning to grow and the sky looks bluer than ever before, it's visually apparent from the formations of rock standing before them that they're in Desdemonia. They're seeing the entrance of what was once the entrance of the goddess's tomb.

"We can slay gods, goddesses..." Lettie doesn't even have to look at the bastard to know they're smirking, thinking of undoing all the hard work they've done to save the worlds. (Is this a trap? Is this the nightmare magic at work? Or... have they actually been transported to Desdemonia? Ugh. She has the worst headache.) "We will rise above the Elders themselves and do what no other has... we will reign over every universe beneath the stars."

The monster unsettlingly jerks back and forth as it rises onto its gnarled legs. It's tongue snaps out like a frog's, curling around Lettie and slinging her towards it, sticking her against it's slimy body near the cube. "Gro--" A tendril wraps around her mouth before she can finish. She bites down, sinking her fangs in deep and shaking her head like an angry dog... but it makes very little difference. The creepy Reapodeus proceeds to crawl towards the opening of the tomb.

"Can you can keep up with us, human?" They mock with a gravelly laugh. "Or do you intend to watch your world fall to ruin... again?"

That's when a murky cloud appears directly above Juno. It shivers for a moment... and then the absorbed butterfly knives from before fall over her like a deadly rain!
 
They’re taking her away.

They’re taking her away. Time moves in slow motion as the monstrosity takes a step forward. She doesn’t register Desdemonia around her. She only registers that home is under threat.

Shades of red fog of her vision. Everywhere is inescapable red. Everything is a fair target. Heat swallows her whole, to the point that flames come out with each heavy breath. The veins against her neck bulge and throb. Her fists curl into the gravel and the heat coming off her palms causes the rocks to glow a searing pale yellow. Whatever is in her veins is no longer her own blood, but liquid fire kept hot by her flaring temper.

Tremors roll over the pirate’s crouched form. She might break the worlds with the rage she harbors. It crawls up the column of her throat and explodes from her mouth in a guttural roar. Her vision colors in orange. The heat of her own fire burns her cheeks and whips her hair from her eye, but for all that, Juno isn’t bothered. And neither is the creature. As bright and hot as she burns, none of her flames come close to touching the monstrosity and they slip through the entrance, unscathed.

Time speeds up again and the first knife ricochets off her armor and lands in the gravel. Juno notices. Somewhat. She rolls her shoulders back and the flames undulating along her back reach upwards, capture the remaining twelve knives, and hurl them off to the side. Tch.

She cracks her neck, growling through her teeth.

The necromancer trudges forward, leaving a path of flames with each earth shattering step. Her fingers brushes over her belt, pulling off a vial of faerie blood she collected last night. She rips the cork off with her teeth, spitting it out on the Desdemonian ground and downing the contents in one thoughtless swallow. The flames along her back and arms brighten like a solar flare or a star itself the instant that the blood hits her lips. Along the insides of her wrists and the sides of her neck, her veins glow neon red with the raver magic coursing through them. Her eyes even adopt a slight glow.

She lifts her arm and a column of fire erupts from her palm, aimed straight for the monstrosity. (It won’t hurt Lettie. These are all of Lettie’s stars, after all.)

‘Oh, shit.’ Juno staggers as the first torrent fades into smoke, unused to wielding such power. It’s exhilarating. It’s dangerous, and she needs dangerous right now. She needs to be dangerous right now. ‘Fuck, that’s good.’ She swipes her tongue over her lip, whetting her appetite for more. It’s better than carb, dust, and alcohol all combined. She could be a god if she tapped into a little more. The vials are heavy on her hip now. Her fingers twitch.

But the creature whips around before she can follow that urge. Despite the diamond bright flames that consumed the creature, they remain unbothered. Untouched. Mostly. They raise their palm and stamp out the small fire on their shoulder, huffing a cloud of smoke as they consider the human. Their eyes bore into her.

The cube stuck to their chest twitches.

Asmodeus raises his remaining flesh hand, bringing his middle finger to his thumb. With a snap, a thick bolt of lightning zigzags down from the crystal skies, striking right over Juno. Her silhouette vanishes and when the light clears, a smoldering black dot is all that marks where the human last stood. The creature smirks, turning back towards the goddess’s tomb—

Their head snaps to the side, knocking out their vision for one brief and brilliant moment. The world spins around them as they collapse onto their side, barely registering the explosion of pain across their jaw. “Human!” They snarl, whipping their head around to find the necromancer standing over them.

From behind Juno’s burning figure, a boulder rises over her head, casting a shadow over the monstrosity. “I have a name, you know.” She shrugs, however, and never bothers to properly introduce herself. Rather, she just snaps her fingers and releases the boulder over the abomination’s head. It lands with a heavy thud that masks the wet splat of the crushed pest. The body goes limp.

It does not last.

As she reaches for her wife, the cube beside her shakes furiously, flashing like strobe lights. The abomination glitches through the boulder and launches into Juno in one fluid motion, giving her no time to react. She’s knocked clean of her feet, flying backwards and helpless to stop it while the abomination has a grip on her. Their arms are wrapped firmly around her torso as they crash through the solid stone walls that makes up the crypt turned temple.

When the necromancer is released, she's hurled into the foot of a titanic throne. Her back explodes into a thousand aches and throbs as she lands in a useless heap. The chamber is sideways, it spins, and it takes her a moment to register that the room is sideways because she is on her side. When she remembers to push herself up, she does, slowly, laboredly, on a shaking arm. As her vision refocuses, she first notices the abomination at the center of the temple standing under the single stream of light that filters through the open circle in the ceiling. She second notices the panicked scuffling of new worshippers, while hooded figures materialize around the chamber, raising complex constructs to defend the goddess and her patrons. She doesn’t at first recognize any of them, until she finds Ainsley’s unmistakable phantom arm. It morphs into the shape of beast that rivals the Reaper and Asmodeus in monstrosity. Then she recognizes one of Thad’s six armed constructs rushing the monstrosity.

The Reaper half of the monstrosity ripples, never once turning to face the construct, and bats it away with an inky tendril. The same happens to Ainsley’s twisting limb—though hers lasts a bit longer, managing to dodge the Reaper’s tendrils for at least a minute before her phantom limb is torn apart and the necromancer is forced to retreat to give the limb time to recover. More constructs come for them and each meets the same fate. Worse are the temple guardians who are hoisted into the air and ripped in half, their mangled bodies tossed carelessly to the side. Then the monster goes after the fleeing patrons.

By that point, Juno is on her feet, creating flames around her fists and firing off fireballs to protect the goddamn children. (Scrawny little things, like she was once.) “Thaddeus!” she barks. The geek immediately turns to face the pirate, somewhat surprised by the duo's sudden arrival. Then again, nothing has ever made since the cube first whisked him away. He adjusts quickly, holding his questions to listen to the captain's orders. “Evacuate the citizens—protect them. Then stay the fuck away from here.”

“But—”

“Do it.” Juno doesn’t get to find out whether Thaddeus listens to her or not. She collides with the Reaper and Asmodeus, wrapping them in tendrils of flames hotter than hell; hotter than stars. The creature struggles in her hold, then their eyes flash with the cube's light, breaking free in an explosive flex that knocks the pirate up into the air.

Juno's arms flail about, reaching for the death that is so thick in the air, she could choke on it. Once she grasps it, a net construct weaves itself to catch her just before she can hit the ground. She doesn't get the chance to recover. The creature is on top of her in a second and their fist soon collides with her face, their knuckles sinking into her nose with a gnarly crunch. Juno manages to sink into the earth before the second strike can land—a good thing too, since this second hit leaves a crater in the ground—and she sprouts right behind them in a crouched position. With her hands still on the ground, she reaches for the earth once more and sinks the creatures legs into the ground, careful to make sure Lettie is kept above ground. (But she's not confident that will hold. Not when they have the cube and her wife.)

"I don't know how we're going to do this, Lette." Juno chews on the inside of her lip, waves of uncertainty crashing over her. It doesn't matter that raver magic is flowing through her, she can't do this on her own. "I'm not strong enough." And she doesn't know how to free her. (And she's tired as hell.) For now, she focuses on crushing the amalgamations legs because she can do that and it staves off the creeping feeling that they aren't going to make it.
 
Useless, useless, useless.

Lettie battles that mindset all while Juno fights the real battle against the abhorrent monster. The faerie hangs there, (useless) exhausted, tangled up a fly in its sticky web of ick. If she's not careful, she's going to drown in it. They're pulling her towards their body, hellbent on holding her captive inside its chest. Somehow, she understands intrinsically what they're trying to do. They've caught a whiff of her blood and now they're hungry. Once she's inside, they'll treat her more or less like a bomberfly. Take aim and use her just as they've been using the cube, wielding them like weapons against the goddess.

Her phantom wings thump frantically behind her in effort to keep herself from sinking any deeper. Lettie struggles in vain, panting softly for breath. (She's not even in the fight and it's a damned struggle. But she's reached within herself so many times and picked herself up again... how many times does she have to achieve the impossible before it's enough?) How are they going to do this? How many times have they had to ask themselves-- and each other-- that question?

Juno's cried her heart out, fought like hell and set herself on fire over the prospect of losing Lettie to this bullshit. They've brought hell. They've brought the stars. It all has to have been worth something. This can't be how their story ends. (But it might be.) Ugh. Where's all that sparkly bravado she exuded before she got nabbed? Is it flimsy because it's fake? (Fake bitch.) It fluctuates. It rises and falls like waves, like deep breaths. They continually snap it away from her and hold it over her head, laughing at how small she is beneath them. They laugh at her for trying.

It's like they forget she has wings. In the cold darkness of the shadows they cast, sometimes she forgets she has them, too. She has an awful habit of seeing her own reflection in the worst light when there's none to be found.

'I'm not strong enough.' Juno's thoughts echo her own. Immediately, Lettie thinks 'that's bullshit'. Juno is the strongest person she knows.

Lettie knows Juno would unhesitatingly say the same about her. (That knowledge is a light in the darkness, a guiding star for her to follow in the monster's belly underground.) Even though she's a little faerie, she looks at her like she's the fucking faerie. Like she puts the stars in the sky. Like she is a star herself. There's nothing fake about the way Juno looks at her. Though she may be missing an eye, her gaze misses none of its softness, devotion or love when she looks at her.

"...It's okay, Juju. I'm not, either." Lettie's eyes snap open with a newly determined set to them. She bats her wings even harder than before, wading through molasses as she endeavors to reach for the cube. (Maybe if she could just touch it, like she did when all of this began.) "But we are. Together." She's not out of this fucking fight yet. No way she's leaving Juno to fend for herself. "Look at this fool... look at what they've become just to stand a chance against a human and a frivolous little faerie. I'm telling you. The smell of desperation is fuckin' thick from here, Juno." She sweats as she works herself harder. It's an agonizing, slow process... but she's getting closer. She stretches her hand out, fingertips just missing one of the cube's four corners. The faerie can feel sparks of its energy like pins and needles on her skin, she's so close it physically hurts. "It's as thick as they're gonna feel when we turn the tables on them again. Don't you dare lose hope. We still got this."

Lettie reaches again. Another miss. Still, she's getting closer. Don't. Give. Up. As long as Juno holds the monster's legs still, they won't be able to stop her. Still, she empathizes with just how much it's taking out of her wife to pull this off.

"They want to eat me." Lettie informs Juno as she inches herself closer, working her wings harder behind her. Salivating, flicking that disgusting tongue all over the place, commenting on her taste. It's obvious. So, if she's smart about this... if she plays her cards just right... "Drink another vial of my blood and keep them down. I'm going for the cube." The circumstances are far too dire for her to think about how that sentence almost makes it sound like she's living in one of Ravan's favorite vampire movies. However, the mental image of Juno with fangs, gently biting at her neck... that's sexy. Nope! Not now, missy. If they make it out, there will be time for gay shenanigans later. (All the more incentive to see this through, isn't it?)

Fortunately, while the remaining temple guardians and patrons evacuate the area, the relics under the goddess's care arrive. They form a cube-shaped structure covered in glowing glyphs to protect the goddess's main chamber from harm. Though cubey is the OG and outranks all of them, it still manages to buy them some more time. The goddess herself must have sensed this was coming and prepared appropriately for it. Once more, it's a reminder that they're not alone in this.

Lettie and Juno are stronger together... and they have the goddess they resurrected on their side. They're not the only ones fighting this. It's them and all the other worlds that don't want to be corrupted again.

"Hmmm. I smell faerie blood." The monsters voice rumbles as they sniff loudly at the air. A tendril slithers free from the earth at its side, looping around Lettie's waist and peeling her away from its body. "It seems we cannot wait any longer. Farewell, Olette. When you're reborn, you will finally be what we need you to be." As it moves her, she makes one last desperate lunge for the cube. While the faerie isn't able to grab hold of it, she does manage to poke the surface of it. The raw energy of it nearly burns her fingerprint away, buzzing through her body as the monster raises her above it's open, waiting mouth.

Lettie isn't scared, but she pretends to be. It's all part of her plan. (Of course she knew all along that they wouldn't be able to resist another wave of faerie blood in the air. They're a selfish, hungry bastard.) She sneaks one of her wicked little smirks in Juno's direction to ensure that she doesn't give her wife a full on heart attack.

The undeniably gross part of the plan is that Lettie is going to have to be eaten. Chills of disgust trickle alongside the electricity on her skin as warm breath ghosts over her. "Trust me, Juno. I'll be back soon." The tendril around her waist unfurls with a snap and drops her down Reapodeus's throat. They swallow her whole and snap their sharp teeth shut behind her. (She's had nightmares like this before, where it was her instead of Lina being devoured by the Reaper. She hates them all over again for every individual evil they've committed.) Though it's dark in here, the trembling faerie finds comfort when she's reunited with the bomberflies she lost before. She opens her hands to them and they reignite one by one. They flit affectionately towards her, dipping back into their home inside her chest. She smiles softly as they recharge her. Good. (When they destroy this fucker, she'll be good and ready.)

It's within the nightmare beast's nightmare body where the remaining traces of nightmare magic is the strongest. Which means that she can manipulate it from here. (It was their plan to reshape the faerie with it. When she gave up the fight, her hopelessness would make her pliable, like a mound of clay for them to reshape to their liking. It was her plan to allow this to happen... without giving up her resolve. To let them think they've won just long enough to steal her power back from their greedy hands. Tendrils. Whatever it is they have now.) They keep drawing her into these worlds of their design... but little do they know, an expert mechanic is gonna take over the whole operation.

Lettie finally brings her disaster magnet idea to life. A shiny, silver orb forms in front of her chest-- she clasps her hands together tightly as she channels all of her wishes for the future inside of it. Come on, Cubey. Let's rock this bitch.

Cubey shoots through the monster's heart like a bullet towards Lettie, leaving them with an abysmal cube-shaped hole in their chest.

"What the fuck." The cube vibrates when it reaches her, visibly disturbed by everything he just went through. Soon enough, though, his piss poor attitude kicks back into high gear. "Took you long e--"

"Stuff it, square." Lettie puffs her cheeks. Geez! Just look at the thanks she gets. She and Juno are due for a long, peaceful retirement after all of the absolute shit they've had to put up with. "Teleport me out of here. Let's burn this motherfucker to a crisp... like old times."

"Gladly." The cube tilts into a nod, agreeable given the circumstances. It shines, bright and familiar, and-- blip.

From the outside, a fiercely glowing smoke streams out of the cube-shaped hole in the amalgamation's chest. "Is this supposed to--" The monster's two identities struggle to comprehend this development. "Blip." It burps-- though the sound is rather mechanical. Then it coughs up smoke-- distinctly pastel, glittery smoke. Then Reapodeus roars out in pain as their body bursts into pink and blue flames that erupt and devour the horrendous mess of it. The fire climbs as high as it can within the temple, the ends swirling whimsically. Some of them look like little hearts, distinctly resembling the way Lettie dots her i's... it has the fucking faerie written all over it.

Like the butterfly knives the monster absorbed and repurposed before, a pink cloud appears and ejects a faerie robot over Juno's head. (Or, rather, a faerie inside a robot that's also faerie shaped.) The robot navigates herself so she lands behind the pirate instead-- towering over her by a couple of feet. "Juju, do you want to be the legs again?" Lettie giggles from inside. (Juno looks so small and cute from up here... she could just scoop her up in the palms of the robot's hands. Unfortunately, there's no time for that. The bastard's not dead yet. (And there's no time to explain how she pulled this off. To put it briefly, she realized that her magicked princess dress didn't vanish after they teleported. So, she reshaped her disaster magnet into the shape of this swanky robot and voilà!) A little door hisses open in the robot's leg. "I'm just teasing. I've got the wings-- you've got dibs on the whole body. We'll be stronger that way. You remember how this works, don't you?"
 
Black spots open in Juno’s vision. Beads of sweat pour down the bridge of her nose and splat into the small mud puddle just below her. Her muscles strain the longer she holds the amalgamation still. They twist and fight against the earth, trying and failing to pull themselves up and out—each time they gain an inch, Juno sinks them down another two.

The veins just beneath the surface of her skin shine like glittery beacons now, another vial downed and discarded and the only reason she can even contend with a monstrosity made of demonic magic and sundered faeries. It’s more raver magic than her own energy that keeps her upright. And it hurts.

(It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. The remaining two vials are screaming from her hip and begging her to drink them in one fell swallow. She’s a hair away from abandoning the creature to listen, because drowning in faerie blood is sure to release her from this Hell.)

Her mouth waters, eyes flickering from the mud puddle to her hip. Her heart squeezes with something like need. (Or is it a warning? Because already those two doses have her heart in a frenzy as it tries to keep up with the pulse of raver magic.) A soft groan flees from her throat, more from the act of resisting than trying to hold the creature down. Another vial won’t kill her. (It’ll just damn her.)

It’s Lettie’s thoughts cutting through her own that anchors her back down, reminding her of why she took the vials in the first place. Shame burns in the pit of her stomach as she rises back to her feet, absently watching the flames of her wife’s creation. (Her wife. Not fodder. Not fuel. Not a fucking battery.) She’s not like them. She’s not.

‘Aren’t I?’ It’s a hollow question and it still rings loud in her head as she climbs into the robot. The flames rolling off her shoulders recede without prompting, leaving only the smallest flicker on one shoulder. She rubs her palm over her chest, as if that might work the raver magic from her system, squeezing the flesh before she slips her arm into one of the control sockets. ‘Shut the fuck up. You’re stronger than this.’

Even as she summons her willpower, it’s not as though the hunger for more disappears. It takes white knuckles for her to resist; it takes nearly splitting her knuckles open to keep herself from ripping open her remaining two vials. ‘Focus, damnit. You don’t need any more power. Lette is here.’ All her focus goes into settling into the suit, fixating on the mechanical hissing and the neon lights that flash in front of her; on testing out the machine’s responsiveness to her movements in the main chamber. Gradually, as Juno establishes herself, the robot’s faerie exterior reacts to its necromancer pilot and shifts, giving the faerie a bone looking arm and black armor with veins of white like marble. Flames unfurl along its forearms, calves, and wings without doing damage to the vessel itself. Then a holographic screen glitches open in front of Juno, allowing her to see through the robot’s eyes. A damage readout appears on the left side of the screen while scrolling text at the bottom identifies features in their surroundings, not too dissimilar from her wife’s nightmare goggles.

Persistent as her desires are, occupying herself with the robot quiets her urges. She touches her chest, brushing her fingertips over her locket. (The robot pantomimes this.) She has her wife; she doesn't need more power.

“Yeah, I remember how this works.” She nods. (The robot mimics her movement again.) Despite her words, even in thought, her tone is exhausted. (It is mostly the faerie blood keeping her upright.) “I… I’m here.” She wants to admit that the raver magic is getting to be too much for her, but the flailing creature captures her attention first and she knows better than to let her enemies recover.

The robot’s eyes flash bright red as Juno unhesitatingly launches forward, clasping one fist around the amalgam’s head, instantly stamping out the whorls of pink and blue fire. With one swift tug, the monstrosity comes up like a weed; in the same motion, never losing momentum, she catapults Reapodeus through the hole in the ceiling. The duo leap, wings beating to follow. “Let’s keep them in the sky. Away from the ground.”

Away from the Desdemonians. The teens. Eliza. The company. Thad (she guesses).

Reapodeus somersaults through the clouds, blasting a hole clean through the coverage. Their limbs and tendrils flail helplessly against the wind, unable to grasp onto anything for leverage; unable to reshape their twisted body into something suited for flight.

Juno’s eyes are locked on them. She reaches out to catch a handful of tendrils, crushing her fist around them to a chorus of layered howls. Tendrils slap the machine, attaching themselves to the steel plates for stability while the ends stretch into thin vines and work themselves between the plates. Juno is unconcerned. She jerks, swings her fist of tendrils behind her, then twists her torso as her and Lettie work in tandem to spin the robot around, dragging Reapodeus along with them. The clouds and sky blur into gray the faster they go. With each movement, more of the raver magic is expelled from her system, lending the pirate more clarity as they tangle with all of their worst nightmares.

When she finally releases Reapodeus, she punts them across the cloud tops then speeds after them. They glitch forward, building momentum. The tips of the robot's blunted fingers sharpen into claws as they close in on their target and as they pass Reapodeus, Juno slashes into their body, aiming for what remains of Asmodeus’s flesh. They wheel backwards, turn around, and Lettie glitches them forward. Again, as they pass the creature, Juno rips into them and they repeat this process, going in zigzags over Reapodeus while they free fall. The Reaper’s inky molasses-like form patches over the wounds as they’re made, though Asmodeus’s blood still oozes from beneath the patches as the Reaper struggles to keep up with the assault.

As they near a mountain peak, Juno wraps her legs around Reapodeus’s torso, lights her fists on fire, and turns their face into a punching bag. Left hook, then right; left, right, left, right, then right, right, right, followed by one hard left hook that lands with a satisfying crack that coincides with their crash landing against the mountain. Juno jams her knee into their ribs and pins them down with her foot on their chest. She lifts both arms into the air, violently bringing them down in a column of fire that consumes Reapodeus, delightful screams echoing across the world.
 
"Hell yeah! That was fucking sick!" Lettie remarks, because how can she not after that display of pure badassery? For now, all that remains beneath their robot is a smoking crater in the ground. Burnt tendrils coil up, joints crack, and the monstrosity is naught but a withered pile of yuck. She gives it the bird, realizing she’s not in control of the robot’s arms, and telepathically asks her wife if she can do that for her. When the robot gives Reapodeus the finger a moment later, the faerie sashays from side to side and cackles gleefully. "Suck my sparkly disco tits!"

…What. Lettie touches down on her motion pad, effectively landing the robot. That's when her legs tremble and give out beneath her. Now that this phase of the fight is over, the exhaustion she'd been trying to shove down is back with a vengeance, slamming into each of her sore muscles individually. Like a hammer. This isn’t the time to get comfortable, nor is it the time to be throwing victory confetti. While that should have been the end of it-- it also should have been the end of Asmodeus when she fucking stabbed him. They'll be back. Those bastards.

‘Course, this doesn't stop the skeletons from partying as soon as the opportunity presents itself. Wait, the skellies? When Lettie glances at her screen, she can see them below as they wave their arms up at the robot and cheer. (For some reason the score board is there, too.) Considering she and Juno put as much distance as they could between them and the goddess’s temple, they’ve found a deserted location. The cube must have brought the crew here for backup, for moral support, or maybe he figured they’d want an audience. How is she to know how that little square’s mind works? If she looks carefully enough, she can just nearly see the outlines of the Lady Vengeance sparkling into view, edge by edge.

That’s when Fred pops the special champagne Lettie had been saving. (It'd tickled her when Juno asked if they could have some at their wedding, knowing she set aside some to share with her when all of this was finally over. And now...) "Fucking Fred." She loves their crew and their fake drunkness. However, it pains her to see her precious champagne trickling through Fred’s ribcage and onto the ground as he chugs it right from the bottle— much to the chagrin of the other skellies. The faerie rolls her eyes, pressing a blue button on the panel in front of her. A radio pops out of a nearby panel. “Marjorie? You there?” She licks her lips contemplatively, flicking her gaze back to the monstrosity’s remains. “Don’t let them get too comfortable yet. It’s not over yet… we need to be ready for anything.” She nods. “Tell them we’ll throw our biggest rager yet if we make it through this one.”

It’s not a false promise, either. So long as things on Avangeline are fine, they can officially party with the other faeries. While she's on that thought, she can’t help wondering who can party harder— the faeries, or the skeletons? It’s a question to ponder later.

Lettie gets caught up in observing as Marjorie tries to relay this message to the others, the motherly way she gesticulates when she talks. They might be weird, a little bit off the walls… boneheads, as Juno would put it. But they’ve been their family on this big, chaotic adventure. Remembering all too well how it felt to lose them once, she squares her shoulders, puts on a serious expression and turns to face the remains of Reapodeus. Their ashes are shaking. When Juno tries to stomp down on them, a forcefield knocks their robot backward a few paces. Oh stars. Here they fucking go.

“You good, Juju?” Lettie checks in while they still have a second, remembering the ways she’d paused when speaking to her before. It could be attributed to tiredness, but her instincts are a-buzzing with the need to check on her pirate even so. “I think we’re in for another round.”

With a low rumble, tiny stones on the ground below begin to rattle and bounce. Abigail bounces along with them and motions to the others to follow her lead. (Her efforts are for the most part ignored. Fred and Inez are tug-of-warring for the champagne.) The sound of pins and needles over tin fizzles in Lettie's ears. She doesn't have to tell Juno to brace herself— she already knows, ‘cause her baby’s got that fight in her bones. (They just need to make sure this fight is the last one.) When the pirate has their robot take a defensive stance, the faerie does the same— fluttering her wings so they glide every so slightly, prepared to dodge anything that might come their way.

“We’ve got this. We won’t let them separate us again.” Lettie immediately regrets putting that out into the universe—knowing her reputation for jinxing this shit. “And even if they do, we’ll find our way back home. I love you.”

The crater beneath the ashes cracks, burrowing and deepening into a void reminiscent of the Reaper’s pit. Lettie’s heart starts to drop. Gritting her teeth, she steels herself before she can lose her nerve. While their robot stands unaffected for now, dirt is sucked inside it like a vacuum. When a few of the skeletons lose their heads to the powerful gust, the others hold onto their skulls to keep them secure. The champagne bottle gets picked up, dragging Fred and Inez both behind it. (Neither of them think to let go for a second.) One by one, the crew gets whisked off by this strong wind and pulled into the abyss— all except for Abigail, strangely, who continues to bounce up and down.

Lettie follows her lead, flying them up and down. While she doesn’t understand what the fuck is happening, she figures this might be their safest bet. (Abigail did give them a vital hint before. She can’t deny that.) Anyway, the skeletons aren’t doomed, they’re just… it’s going to be fine. It’s going to be fine.

Phillip tries in vain to catch his comrades. Eventually, the wind gets to be too much for him as well, pulling him into the abyss. The faerie's heart nearly breaks. No. Not again. Not again-- Don't let this be like... no. This isn't like what happened before. History isn't repeating itself. It's going to be fine. They'll save the crew. It's going to be fine.

Reapodeus rises from the darkness. The monstrosity looms larger than ever— to the point that their two heads disappear in the clouds. (Geez. There’s tall and then there’s obnoxiously tall.) They have transparent tubes criss-crossing along the side of their body and over the heart— the skeletons float around inside of them. (What's happening to them?) There’s no time to seethe on behalf of the crew when Desdemonia itself bends in towards the monster’s mouth as they unleash a horrible screech. Lettie presses her hands over her ears.

Then, what can only be described as a massive tornado of baby nightmares comes hurtling towards them. Individually they may be small and weak— but clustered together, they writhe, scream, and draw on each other’s energy. If that wasn’t bad enough, even more tornadoes of the same freakish nature come spinning towards them from every conceivable angle, until they’re completely surrounded by them.

“Fire works against the babies, right?” Lettie says, vaugely recalling the first time Juno saved her from a nightmare. “Then we just gotta set these suckers ablaze! It'll be cake.” She laughs, though her pitch is a little wobbly-- a little nervous. And the world proceeds to play a cruel trick as it transforms the nightmares to resemble scared, sickly people. (...Perhaps the same people Juno is so guilty for having burned all those years ago.) "R-remember what you told me. We need to keep our eyes closed. It's not real."
 
“Goddess in Hell.” Juno tilts her head back to take in the enormity of the bastard’s newest form. (“The smell of desperation is fuckin' thick from here, Juno.”) Yeah, it sure fucking is. And of all the guardians and divinities they have felled before, this is only another they have to get through. What they’re facing isn’t even divine nor a guardian. Just some fucked up power hungry loser. And once this is over, it’s over. Juno holds onto this, briefly closing her eyes as she pictures their cottage, the rustling grasses, and crisp air. Her fists close at her sides, squeezing tightly until crescents have formed on her palms. She wipes the sweat from her brow and places one fist over her chest, calming her racing heart. The glow in her veins has lessened, lending more clarity to the pirate with the raver magic now half-cleared from her system. When her eyes open again, she’s ready.

“Yeah. Just need to flambé their asses.” Her fists burst into flames as the nightmarish tornadoes come in close. The tricks they try to pull to protect themselves don’t work on Juno—these nightmares are part of what home used to be to the Desdemonian. She knows better than anyone else they aren’t real. Unfeelingly, she holds up her palm and incinerates the first wave of them. The nightmares writhe as orange devours them until they are nothing more than wisps and then nothing completely. Eagerly, the flames jump over to neighboring nightmares and spread across the army encroaching on the pair.

Juno leaps on top of the flaming bodies, hopping across them like she would rocks to cross a river until they’ve reached the heart. For the most part, Juno ignores the tubes lining the bastard’s body, unsure of what to make of the hostages and deciding, instead, to focus on their efforts on the heart. They can do something about the heart. Stopping to try and free the crew could be a drain on their reserves and the necromancer is already running on fumes of fumes.

The bastard tips its head down and opens its maw. Juno zeroes in on the opening, punching two fireballs down its throat. Reapodeus merely swallows them, his face splitting into a wobbly grin. Its shoulders shake as it laughs like thunder, shaking the ground and flattening a portion of the mountain range below. “The same trick won’t work twice, human.”

“Had to try.” She shrugs, shameless and refusing to let the beast get into her head. “Alright. Remember that stone guardian we toppled?” The one that carried a civilization on its back, though Juno elects to not remind Lettie of that particular tragedy. “Let’s try the same tactic here.”

The beast sweeps their hand through the air, attempting to swat the pesky robot from the sky (like some fucking bug), but the duo shift and maneuver until they come up behind the hand. The second arm comes up through the clouds, attempting the same tactic. (Juno has half a mind to call out the hypocrisy, but taunts aren’t really her thing.) As with before, it doesn’t work. They weave past the hand and come out behind the bastard. Juno is ready to lasso them with a rope of fire, but nightmares peel off the body and come at them faster than she expects, forcing her to redirect her flames. “Shit.” While it only takes a touch for the nightmares to ignite and while her flames are eager to devour all that they can as they skip across the small army, it fast becomes clear they won’t be able to get in closer.

Juno calls on them to retreat, diving back down towards the legs where they have the cover of clouds to obfuscate them. “Fuck’s sake,” she grumbles, pivoting away as a hand blindly sweeps for them. “How fast can you wind us around the legs? This fucker isn’t giving us an inch to breathe, baby. We have to be quick.”

Lettie delivers on speed. (A little too well, though Juno withholds her complaints. This is what they need.) They wind around and around the bastard’s legs, tangling them in a rope made of flames while simultaneously weaving through and dodging the nightmares that continue to come for them. On occasion, Juno outright binds the would-be assailants to the bastard, letting them burn along the rope. Once they've gone several rounds around the legs, Juno directs them to jerk backwards and throws all their weight into pulling on the bindings. She grinds her teeth together, clenching her jaw, straining her muscles to keep her hold on the rope. (It's fucking weird that she isn't actually holding onto anything, yet she can feel the tug like she and the robot are one and the same.) "Just... a... little... more!"

With a final heave, the robot thrashes forward. When Reapodeus tries to lift its leg, it trips over the flames and tips forward, crashing into what little remains of the mountain range.
 
"Did... did we get them?" Lettie lowers herself to the ground, making a wobbly landing as stars whirl in her field of vision. Oof. So dizzy. She presses her fingertips over her eyelids. When she releases them, she feels a little better. The resounding crash and tremor of Reapodeus's massive form hitting the mountainside answers her question. Squinting at the screen that lends her a view of the outside, she finds the sight of them draped over the rocks resembles gooey, melted fudge on top of a sundae. Only it's way, way more gross. Like finding a perfectly good dish drenched in sludge.

The faerie notices their arms and tendrils working, pulling the necks of their two heads to the middle of their body so they resemble more of a spider-like creature, looming on the mountainside. Ugh. Why do they insist upon ruining spiders for her? They can't seem to agree where they want their heads to sit, tugging and nitpicking amongst themselves. Hm.

"Deep breaths, Juno. In and out. You holding up okay?" Lettie asks softly. If that stunt had her tripping, then she knows Juno must be feeling it tenfold. "Just a little more, my love. We're almost there." While she's tempted to fall into a daydream that involves naps in the grass, softly swaying tree branches, and Juno's hand wrapped in her own, she instead taps her lower lip as she studies the machine around them. Her eyes take a slightly golden sheen as she considers their options, what they'll be capable of. "I think we should split up for a bit. You take the ground-- burn up as many of the limbs as you can. I'll take the skies to distract them and search for the heart. I'll send you the coordinates once I find it."

Once they agree on the next course of action, the walls inside the robot illuminate with electric blue glyphs. With a mechanical 'chink, chink, chink' their single robot parts in the middle and gracefully becomes two robots. Juno's has a helmet that resembles a skull, Lettie's half keeps the wings. The faerie moves her hands and legs, testing to see how the new robot responds. It follows her movements exactly. Damn. This is the tech of dreams... which, she guesses it technically is. "If either of us gives the code, we'll meet back at the rendezvous point." The code being shit bananas, naturally. It's a classic! Her robot holds Juno's by the hands, soaring overhead. When she finds a safe spot to launch her, she pauses just a second longer before letting go. "Be careful down there. I love you."

Juno goes down like a cannonball wreathed in flames. Though Lettie's going the opposite way, her heart goes down there with her.

"Oh, how the mighty fall. Just look at the sorry state of you two!" Lettie taunts them, riskily flitting between their necks, weaving around their heads to keep their eyes trained on her. Gotta give Juno an opening to deal some serious damage. "You're looking rough Asmodeus. I'm not sure any amount of skincare will help you with those eye bags. Yikes." As she flies, her patterns quick and unpredictable, the freakish amalgam eventually becomes disoriented trying to keep up with her to the point that they smash their foreheads together and curse. One hisses under their breath, calling the other an imbecile. "Trouble in paradise?"

"You little menace." Reapodeus snarls, though Asmodeus's voice is the most recognizable in it. "Your insolence will be--"

"Your insolence will be the death of you. Yeah, yeah. I've heard it all before, gramps!" Lettie mocks, taking that girlish tone she knows he hates. She yawns in an exaggerated manner, snapping back to action when a tendril starts to chase after her. "How long are you gonna waste your breath on those crusty old threats? It's getting to be such a bore." She flies in spirals around the Amosdue's neck-- and as the Reaper chases in a rage, he unintentionally creates a noose around his... his co-monster's... neck. (Um. What are they to each other, exactly? Is there a word for it? Monsters in crime?) Heh. Maybe it's morbid, but the sound of Asmodeus choking is music to her ears. Ah, how poetic this is.

Vindicated by the damage dealt, the rage Lettie has pent up over the years overflows. The tendril starts to unwrap itself from Asmodeus's neck-- but she's not finished with him yet. Unhesitatingly, the faerie turns her robot's hand into a claw and flies at Asmodeus's face, raking them right through his left eye. For Juno. She tears it out, letting it fall with a sickly plop to the earth.

Before Lettie can register it, a giant hand smashes her down into the earth as Asmodeus howls. She bangs her head against the side of the metal as the robot falls faster than she does, taking her vision for the slightest of seconds. The faerie lands in a heap on the motion pad, her head spinning as she tries and fails to pull herself back up onto her feet. Clang, clang. The monster strikes repeatedly, making her slip. Eventually, it starts to dent the robot's chest. Lettie watches with exhausted dismay as her world becomes smaller and smaller. The walls are poised to crush her as the amalgam's fist closes around her robot's middle, the metal creaking and crunching in a way she doesn't like at all. Shit.

Lettie shrinks herself down to give herself more room to breathe, to think. There's no salvaging the robot. Deciding on this, she glitches herself out through the back of the robot. Unnoticed due to her small (smaller) size, she escapes into the sky just as the remains of her robot is reduced to scrap metal. The tendrils dig greedily through the remains, searching for her unconscious body-- or for her dust-- but they're not going to find a thing in there.

Unseen by all, the tiny faerie flies higher and higher into the sky. (If she can just get high enough, close enough to the stars...) "I'm going for my source, Juno. If I can charge myself up, if only just a little..."

'You've protected me again. Thank you.' Surprisingly, it's the goddess's voice that interrupts, echoing in both the faerie and the pirate's ears at once. Gold light emanates from them both as she imbues the couple with drops of her essence. 'You vowed to bring the stars and hell itself to this battle. That is exactly what you must do, if you're to put an end to that abomination.' Her voice takes a dark note as she continues. 'The inferno awaits. Can you feel it's warmth beneath your feet, Captain Juno?'
 
‘Just a little more, my love.’ The smallest version of her wife whispers this like a mantra as the necromancer weaves her way through the mess of tendrils and splattered ink, burning through it with little resistance. One arm transforms itself into the blade of a sword, allowing her to sweep through the inky mess with greater ease and range. The tendrils lap at her feet and ankles, some even make it up to her calves, but few are able to stick with her body on fire. They last seconds before the heat burns them, travels down their arms, and leaps onto their neighbors, spreading fast through the mass while the talking heads are distracted. ‘Just a little more, my love.’

The mountain range, or what remains of it, is alight with fire. Juno heaves within the suit, falling against the interior walls for a moment as she collects herself. Her vision fades in and out, taking a concentrated amount of effort to make out the readouts on the screen. Sweat drips down from the top of her head, down the sides of her face, neck, slipping down her spine and coating her chest. The robot on fire doesn’t exactly help, though Juno isn’t quite ready to extinguish the flames given the protection they offer. When she goes to wipe her brow, the back of her hand comes back faintly pink. She grimaces. ‘Just a little more…’

For a moment, she considers calling shit bananas. Her heart might be her own battery for necromancy, and it’s not like she knows its limits. Lettie wouldn’t want her pushing herself like this either. She wouldn’t want her to risk this.

And then…

A light glows from within her chest, illuminating the rest of the infamous pirate in its golden hue. Suddenly, her limbs aren’t so heavy, her vision isn’t so spotty, and her breaths are no longer ragged. Unlike with whatever magic she took from Lettie’s blood, this is entirely different. It’s power and clarity without the hunger for more. Juno’s voice wavers, unable to find words to acknowledge the goddess or her gift. But she is the goddess and she knows. She doesn’t indicate this in any communicable way, but the Desdemonian is left with the feeling that she has been understood.

The goddess leaves without another word; though her presence is still with them, tangibly so. With the temporary divinity coursing through her veins, Juno disengages from her robot, slides down the ladder steps along the leg, and blasts the exit open.

Her foot touches Desdemonia and the Inferno erupts in her core. The cleansing flames, the flames that torture, consume the necromancer until she is no more than a spirit made of fire. “I know what to do.” Juno’s voice sounds tinny, like she’s coming from a higher place. “I’m going to open the gate. It’s going to take all of my concentration. Can you hold them off?”

It’s not a question. Not really, because Juno knows she can.

Behind them both, the remnants of Reopodeus continue to coalesce together. The inky bits of him leap and slink towards the two heads. The futile attempt at a reconstructed body ripples into a form that is more or less familiar to them. The heads glitch, then fuse into one, while what had been a spider-like body elongates into the imposing form of a hooded figure with a gleaming, toothy grin. A long pointed tongue hangs from the more-Reaper-than-Asmodeus mouth, long strings of saliva dripping from his tongue. When the droplets hit the ground they burst into colorful illusions of the fae he’s consumed over the centuries.

Four pairs of arms split off from the Reaper’s body, an upper and lower set with claws sharper than a faerie’s. The tips glow with familiar kaleidoscope warnings when the amalgam lifts one hand and concentrates a sphere of magic at the tip. He takes aim at the duo and fires, shifting forward as the blast leaves his finger.

The orb comes at them fast, expanding as it approaches. Juno merely summons a curtain of fire that rises up from the depths of Desdemonia. It divides them from the monstrosity, swallows the blast, and gives the duo cover to reposition before the curtain drops.

Juno blows Lettie a kiss before she sinks into the earth. Once she’s beneath the surface, her body passes through the ground as if she is only an apparition rather than something solid. When she glances towards the surface, the goddess’s blessing allows her to peer through the layers of dirt and rocks like she’s looking through water. The amalgam’s large form is easy for her to spot, watching as it hurls blasts of energy and golden fire towards the skies. Though she doesn’t see Lettie, her heart still squeezes, but she knows her role in this. She’s done what she can.

Now it’s time to bring Hell.

When she breaks through the surface, she’s a few yards away from Reapodeus and hiding behind a pile of crushed mountain. The ground shakes and heat fills the air as explosions paint the skies in smoke. Juno clenches her jaw, forcing herself to ignore whatever might be happening just beyond her hiding spot in favor of opening up the Inferno.

Though she’s never done this before, the goddess’s divinity guides her through it, coming to her like instincts. She bunches her fingers together to form points with each hand, then stabs them into the earth. A flow of energy shoots up her arms, causing her to toss her head back as images flood her mind, showing her everything—everything happening on Desdemonia all at once. Strangers, family, Thad, and enemies as they panic, as they go about their lives, as they fight, as they steal—

‘Focus, my child.’ The goddess comes to her before she’s lost to Desdemonia, calming the overwhelm of knowing everything happening at once. It reminds the necromancer of her purpose and helps her sift through the noise as she searches for the gate.

Meanwhile, Reapodeus trudges forward. The lower set of arms come up and grab the sides of the head. “You imbecile!” This is easily Asmodeus speaking. “She took to the skies—quit searching for her on the ground. Give us wings, damnit!”

“But why should she come back down here? I am telling you,” the Reaper insists, “getting her human will get her to show. We just have to find the little brat.” The Reaper gently removes Asmodeus's hands from their face. "We threaten to sup on her bones, the minx will come." With that, the upper set of arms clasps their hands together and, as they pull them apart, a ball of trippy magic forms between their palms, growing the wider they spread their arms. "This ought to cover everything in the vicinity."
 
Lettie's heartbeat is rabbit-quick in her chest. Thump, thump, thump. It's like electricity on a sugar-high is speeding through her veins with the velocity of a fucking race car. (Too trippy? Well, it's fair to say she's tripped out with nerves right about now.) It's because she can feel them getting close... they're so close. They're so close and she wants this so damned much. The thought that one misstep could end everything they've fought for at this juncture is unbearable. While the monstrosity prepares their next attack, spanning across the ground, she has to remind herself that Juno's underground. Lit up like a torch, imbued with the goddess's divine energy no less. Still, Lina's face flashes through her mind and her heart pounds even faster.

'Trust that she's got this. Don't let them lure you out.' After all, they make no secret of their intentions to lure the faerie out. They've made a dumb mistake in doing that. Now's not the time for her to start making even dumber mistakes! Unlike Lettie and Juno, these two lack any meaningful connection The air shimmers with warmth and Lettie knows intrinsically that it's Juno, doing her thing. 'Just a little more.'

"Brace yourself, Juno. They're sending a massive attack over the ground." Lettie warns her before diving down, abandoning her plans to reconnect with her source. (For now.) "Might get a bit shaky down there. Watch out for falling rocks." Still small (smaller) and hidden from sight, she glitches and parts into two faeries. Those two faeries part, creating two more, and so forth until there are approximately twenty-two of them encircling the monster below.

The will'o wisp faeries in Lettie's image drift down like an easygoing rain to taunt the monster. Their ghostly silhouettes flit about in zigzags designed to confuse, they impishly wave their fingertips, stick out their tongues, blow raspberries and flash their fangs. One makes a silly puffer-fish face while others make the duck lips that have become so popular in selfies-- much to Asmodeus's annoyance. ('Cause he's that type who hates to see girls having innocent fun.) Hiding in the clouds above them all, Lettie sweats as she dedicates all her concentration to the illusion.

Scrape, scrape, scrape. There's a faint, phantom-light sound of chains on the breeze. Their shape of them appears around the monstrosity's waist in a belt. Several ends dangle down, touching upon the earth. "Are parlor tricks all you have, you simple fae child?" As Reapodeus summons four of them into their clawed hands, they forget their attack entirely as they throw them towards the faeries swirling around them. Since the real fucking faerie isn't in their midst, the chains only manage to dissolve a few of the fakes.

"Guess so!" One of the will'o wisps smirks deviously. "But it looks like my adorable little tricks are making you sweat. Poor thing."

Thanks to her outburst, the faerie is promptly dissolved as a golden chain lassos around her waist. This sacrifice is not in vain, however-- in fact, it encourages the others to chime in. They all do what they can to attract the monstrosity's rage. "Lame!" "Missed me! You been skimping out on target practice?" "Seriously? I've had zits that've given me more trouble than you." One of them yawns exaggeratedly and then splits into seven more faeries, replacing those that have been dissolved.

Hmph. Yeah, there'll be no more cheating for them now that her curse is broken. They won't single Lettie out with a gold tracking wristlet like all those times before.

"Crises averted. I stopped the attack." Lettie contacts Juno again, hoping that she's not disturbing her flow. If anything, the reassurance might help her devote her focus to bringing hell. "Pfft. They have no fucking clue where you are. Those dipshits."

As Lettie fixates her energy down below, she gazes up longingly at the sky. If she could just get a little closer to the stars... maybe she could charge herself up, too. Pfft. Like she's going to be able to fly all the way to space from here. (But she wants to fight. And yeah, she already is... in a way. Technically. Still. She wants to contribute in the same way that Juno is contributing. Even though she's got the stupidly buff muscles for it, she doesn't want to leave the heavy lifting all on her.) She closes her eyes, breathes out a restless sigh, and then...

When Lettie opens her eyes again, she finds herself submerged in a sea of stars. She grasps for her throat, her white eyes nearly bugging out with shock. Wha--? (Stars! She's in motherfucking space!) Her feet dangle in the air and she glances down at them, at the never ending darkness speckled with brilliant lights. It's the same all around her. The battlefield, the monster, Juno... they're all gone. It's just her, alone, a single speck in a perpetual night sky.

'It's all right. Breathe, little one.' The goddess consoles, her voice washing over the faerie's skin like a cool, healing water. 'It's your task to bring the stars, is it not? Connect with your source. Return to us when you are ready.'

"What about my will'o wisps? What about Juno?" Lettie frets. She may have wanted this-- but she also needs to know her pirate will be safe down below. No matter what, she wouldn't abandon her for power. Not for a second.

'I 'got her', as you would say.' The faerie cannot see the goddess, but she can tell that she's smiling a reassuring smile when she says those words. 'Regain your strength. Bring the stars. We'll be waiting for you.'

Lettie deflates with relief, giving a slow nod. We'll be waiting for you. The Reaper told her the very same words in a nightmare once. This time, they bring her comfort. The goddess is watching over Juno-- but she hasn't removed her from the fight. Not at all. They still need her. And she's gonna do whatever it takes-- she'll bring the stars. Any exhaustion that belabored her before has been lifted off her shoulders, to the point that she is entirely weightless. Her source is all around her, whispering for her to reach out for the beautiful connection they shared once before. Their voices whisper lovingly to her, welcoming her back.

"Okay." Lettie closes her eyes. She breathes in deeply and reaches out. From head to toe, the faerie's form is wreathed in white light. Her hair whips out around her, flowing in ethereal rainbow swirls. When she opens her eyes again, the faint violet outline of her irises are completely blown out by the spotlight brightness of them. Her claws and fangs lengthen and sharpen until she's something as deadly as she is beautiful. A ghost with hints of color breathed into her, an otherworldly maiden of the skies. She's just getting started.

'Listen to their wisdom and you'll know what to do, starchild.' Even in this form, Lettie can still hear the smile in the goddess's voice. 'I'll leave you to it.'
 
Far and wide, all of Desdemonia knows a change is coming. It’s in the crisp, still air. It’s in the heat flares that stretch from the epicenter of the crushed mountains to the far corners of this shithole planet. It’s in the reddening skies.

If these last few months had not already primed Desdemonians for this astronomical shift, then the proof is here, now. They have heard whispers of the goddess’s return. They have witnessed the skies clear of their once radioactive hue. They have seen the sprouts of green life pushing their way through the earth, insistent on taking over the wastelands. Sparkling streams have cleared away the poisoned waters, giving the world clear blue veins. Fewer have braved the pilgrimage to see the goddess’s temple, and their tales have lit sparks of hope in their neighbors and loved ones (if they have loved ones). While stewards, warlords, and other parasites have made their attempts to control these new resources, all that they take turns to ash in their sleep. All they build, crumbles. The armies they raise, the fires they try to start, always turn back on them. It’s disaster for the tyrants. It’s hope for the people.

If all that had not been proof, then they become convinced as the world warms. Across the world, Desdemonians steps out of their tin homes, they pause their brawls, their arguments, philosophies, prayer to look up. Thousands of eyes watch the skies change colors. They watch as the clouds reshape themselves and depict motion pictures of the scene at the crushed mountains. Children point, awestruck. Adults twists their mouths, uncertain. Among them Eliza watches, arms folded under her robes. ‘Come back in one piece, kids.’

While Desdemonia admires the changing skies, Juno’s spirit departs from her body. She doesn’t recognize this herself. To her, it’s like she’s tipping forward. Even as that sensation turns to tumbling down, she’s too absorbed in searching for the gate that she remains unaware.

When her eyes open, she doesn’t even question that she can see through both. Everything around her is made of shining light. She squints, making out shapes in the light, traces of ancient energy leaving their stories behind in the layers of rock that make up the world. Visions of Old Desdemonia flash through her mind, reminding her of its past excellence. It gives her a vision of the future to hope for; if they were great once, then they can be great again. Perhaps even she might live long enough to see this shithole turn into something else, something better.

As she swims closer to the core, the energy signatures brighten until brilliance has swallowed her vision and turned everything into a sheet of white. Here, the echoes of the past are the most ferocious and roar with such intensity, her own thoughts are lost among them, as well as any messages coming in from her wife. The voices, the memories, in languages long dead and in tongues she's never learned, etch across her spirit, trying to weave themselves into her own core, trying to absorb her into Desdemonia. It would be so easy to allow them to take her in; it would be so comforting to become part of the world. But there is a star waiting for her. She burns through the voices that touch her, warning them to stay away. And, eventually, the core of the world quiets for the necromancer who has a star she already belongs to.

Her jaw tightens as she looks over her shoulder, above her, down below, and recognizes only a blank canvas with no clear concept of direction. She doesn't know her way back home. Somehow the thought does not scare her. She blinks a few times, then sends a pulse into the core to communicate her request. 'Show me the gate.'

A second passes, then another. Nothing happens until, suddenly, a set of double doors made from ivory bones pushes through the brilliance. A giant skull with seven eye sockets and long, curled tusks carries a ring in its mouth at the center. As Juno reaches for the knocker, a neon red seal stops her before she can touch it, sending shocks of red lightning through her. She jerks her hand back, shaking it out before she sticks her fingers into her mouth to cool the burn. 'Little fucker.'

Before frustration can set in, the goddess presses her cool fingers against the necromancer's temples, flooding her with visions of glyphs—some familiar and distinctly from the worlds they've healed and others are entirely new to her. Just as with the one they've used to open the goddess's tomb, they layer over each other, creating a complex web of indecipherable spells. Juno nods, closes her eyes, and holds her palm to the seal, tracing out the glyphs in her mind.

On the surface where Juno left her body, flames roll off from her shoulders, down her back, and trail over the ground, tracing out the glyphs as they appear in her mind. A wide circle draws itself around the crushed mountains first and captures Reapodeus within its circumference. The monstrosity hardly notices, still squabbling with himself as the two spirits vie for power. He stomps with abandon, creating craters with each heavy step. He flings golden flames and desperate chains into the skies. Ink tendrils stretch from his torso and wriggle over the ground like hound dogs, sniffing out the human's scent. Though they'll never find her, because the human, for all intents and purposes, is not human right now. Even when the tendrils pass over her hidden island, obfuscated by the goddess's blessing, they merely sweep over her and move along while the glyph continues to draw itself in white fire.

By the time the Reaper notices that the ground is on fire and recognizes pieces of a spell, it's too late. Even as he gains control and whirls towards the undisturbed piece of land where the human resides, he isn't even able to lift his leg before a violent torrent of fire shoots up from the massive glyph. The column of it touches the sky and goes beyond to the stars. Lilac lightning arcs around the column, occasionally striking Reapodeus himself.

Across Desdemonia, the residents feel the flare of heat. Some take immediate shelter; those further from the blast are able to withstand the swelter. All eyes are still trained on the now darkened skies, the column of heat the only thing that illuminates the world. They can make out the shadow of some nightmare arched in pain as its burned and can even feel the force of its howl.

Reapodeus howls until his throat is scorched through. His claws and fangs lengthen, glowing with raver magic as he futilely tries to slash his way out from the divine fires. His body twists, trying to wrench himself free. He glitches three times in quick succession, falling flat on his stomach when he finally exits the white hot flames. Smoke wafts from his blistered body, parts of him still on fire. In fact, fiery rings form around his wrists, biceps, waist, thighs, ankles, and neck.

Meanwhile, the column just behind him shrinks down to a thin stream, no wider than a whip. A set of double doors made from ivory bones slide out from it and an unseen force throws them open, revealing a wall of spirits all pressed up against each other. Some of them shriek in horror, while others laugh with joy. All of them reach out for Reapodeus, beckoning him to join. And, at the base of the doorway, Juno stands with her arms spread out, keeping the Inferno open for its newest resident. "I've got Hell."
 
The first time Lettie connected with her source, her soul explored the starry skies like they were a celestial playground. Now she sends her intentions out into the vastness of space and waits for the stars to come to her. "My name is Olette Lyrcoris Radiata. I need your help." All the way out here, it's apparent just how tiny she is. The faerie is littler than a grain of sand, all alone in a universe that carries so many worlds. From up here, her problems-- everyone's problems-- are even smaller than she is. From up here, she can barely see them at all. Yet she doesn't consider abandoning them for a second. Instead of flying among the twinkling lights, she remains still and solemn as she conveys her message to the stars. "On my own I won't be able to face the monster that awaits me down below... I've always known this. But I've made it this far. I've risen above the odds and made it here to all of you."

Lettie would lower herself to her knees if there were a floor beneath her feet. Instead, she settles for humbly bowing her head. To an extent, she's trying to mirror the devotion Juno shows whenever she makes a vow. (It's some classy shit. Hell, she thought the woman was proposing the first time she hit her with one.) This isn't doubt. It's merely an acknowledgement of the truth. How many faeries like her have been devoured unceremoniously by the Reaper? How many have been reduced to dust by petty games on Avangeline? What makes her any different from the rest of her sisters besides the nature of her source?

The stars are symbols of the past, present and future. Fueled by dreams, wishes and possibilities. They're a part of her just as she's a part of them. Lettie implores them to observe journey she's made, hopes with all her heart that they will deem her worthy.

"For some reason, Juno and I were chosen. Neither of us were really the hero type, you know? But the fate of the worlds rests in our hands now... we're fighting not only for our future, but for everyone's future. So, please..." Deep down, Lettie knows the explanation is unnecessary. The stars understand her intrinsically, they scarcely communicate with words. The faerie rambles regardless. What if she's talking to herself out here? (...She's nervous. In her mind, she can hear Juno calling her a nerd.) "Stars, your wisdom is invaluable. Will you share it with me?"

Lettie falls silent, listening intently for an answer. They don't make her wait long. The stars hum and her moonbeam limbs sharpen and brighten as their energy flows in towards her, flooding her body with warmth. (It's not too much to bear by any means. It's a bundled up in front of the fireplace, wrapped in Juno's arms kind of warmth. Comfortable and safe.) The magic doesn't overwhelm so much as it reassures her. They see her. How she's survived until now. How she's grieved and worked and fought. And they tell her everything will be all right.

'I've got Hell.'

Everyone's got this. Now it's up to Lettie to deliver the final blow.

"Okey dokie. Let's make like a banana and split." Though Lettie's voice is echoey and mystical, her nerd antics strike again. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath to steel herself. All it takes is a single thought of home before she descends to it. To her.

Lettie glitches down from the skies like a comet. Alongside her, there's a rain of stars that exude a mist of diamond dust. They fall upon Desdemonia's soil, repairing the places where the monstrosity wrecked havoc. The faerie's figure is divine and spritely, a phantom of rainbows and soft, ghostly light. As she nears the flames, the monstrosity, she absorbs the essence of dead faeries that leaks from their mouth and the tips of their claws. It gathers all around her, adding to the vibrancy of her own light as she allows them to take refuge in her heart.

None of those past faeries will ever be able to remember who they were before, their souls destroyed beyond recognition. Even so, Lettie remembers those she knew-- those she had passing encounters with or simply heard about. And all at once, she embodies every faerie that has ever been used. She's Cerise. She's Lina. She's the Reaper's first friend, the one who believed and trusted in him once upon a time.

Lettie floats down to Reapodeus's smoldering form, unfazed by their failed attempts to claw at her. Held back by their shackles, they couldn't even hope to harm her. (They seem to tighten... and somehow, Lettie knows that's Juno's doing.) Though everything around them is on fire, not a single spark touches her. The faerie reaches out, pressing their head between her claws. She tilts her head to the side with curiosity as she peers into their eyes, reflecting the kaleidoscope patterns the Reaper once tortured her with.

"You..." The monster gasps. "You can't be real."

"Don't be afraid. I'm about to grant your wish." Lettie grins, showing her fangs like she's become the creature from a nightmare. Her voice echoes alongside the other faeries she summoned within her memories. The ends of the monstrosity's limbs begin to spirit away into a fine dust, little by little. The dissolved particles of their body sparkle and change shape, gradually covering the mountainside in beautiful flowers. Smatterings of forget-me-nots, lilies, daisies, orchids among others. "This is what you wanted... isn't it?"

"Stop, stop it--! You minx, you bitch!" The Reaper, Asmodeus, whichever one of the two is the most shameless coward starts to beg in the worst possible manner. (Perhaps it's both of them.) Lettie does not particularly care either way. She sinks her claws into their temples, expediting the process. Damn you. Damn you both straight to hell. "This isn't how this was meant to--"

The monster lets out one final scream until the last of their body dissolves into flowers. The Reaper's wailing mouth is the last to go, pink tongue and teeth twisting into a single rose with thorns. Lettie catches it, her claws reshaping into fingers. She observes the way it flames with cold curiosity. To think... once this very sight would have tortured her. In this moment, it's something like poetic justice.

The curtain of flames around Lettie falls to the wayside, creating a doorway for her to peer through. Across the brand new field of flowers, she sees Juno standing at the gates of hell. Just seeing her there, he's so damned close to passing out with relief. Clenching the stem of the rose in her hand, she knows there's one thing left to do to make sure it's over and over for good. The faerie smirks.

"Catch, babe!" With that, Lettie tosses Juno the flaming rose.
 
Never again. Juno’s eyes are two stars set on her face of fire and when they brighten, the shackles around the monstrosity tighten and pull them flat, flush to the ground. They tremor. It’s all they can do to attempt to escape, and the necromancer’s grip is unyielding. She will not let those bastards touch her wife ever again. This is where it ends.

While she holds the gates of Hell open, her eyes stay trained on the amalgam of the Reaper and Asmodeus, only occasionally flickering up to the goddess of revenge herself. Those short glances are everything to the exhausted woman. One look and the strain is relieved from her muscles, remembering all that waits if she gives just a little more and knowing this is the last time she’ll ever have to give just a little more.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do with her hands after this. She doesn’t know if she has anything worthwhile to pursue once her days of fighting are officially over. Life is going to be unrecognizable to the survivalist. It could be boring. It could be so mundane that she’ll go mad.

...That fear only exists for a minute. Another look at her faerie and she’s reminded of everything they’ve ever gotten up to on their rare days (more like hours) off. It won't be boring, and she doesn't know what it will be. As their fingertips just brush the corner of this unknown future, she is reminded that she isn't going to know herself at all after this.

'Not now.' The pirate shakes her head, inhaling sharply to quiet her thoughts before all these questions put cracks in her resolve. She focuses her vision ahead, carefully keeping count of the seconds by way of distraction. Though as flower's blossom around her feet, to the side, and everywhere, all her worries shatter as wonder becomes the crushed mountains; as she witnesses Desdemonia's first spring in centuries. Her eyes follow the field of sprawling flowers to its epicenter, her wife. Pride shines in her eyes and swells in her chest, watching as she creates the final mangled flower; a burning rose.

“Catch, babe!”

Juno would smirk if the last piece of this weren't arcing towards her. The spirits behind her collectively gasp and several of them stretch towards the rose, climbing over each other to create a chain the way ants create bridges. When the burning rose touches the waiting spirits, they curl around it, fighting for a piece of Hell's newest denizen. Flames unfurl from Juno's back, lassoing around the spirits and pulling them back into Hell, where she flings them against the wall. Quickly, they're absorbed back into the Inferno and the last of their nightmare is lost to a sea of screaming, squabbling spirits. Satisfied that Reapodeus cannot escape, the necromancer lets go of the gates and falls onto her hands and knee. Before she allows herself to fully collapse, she glances over her shoulder. The ivory doors slam shut, the knocker's seven eye sockets glow lime green and brighten, forcing the pirate to look away. As the shine fades, so does the door, though not before the knocker spits out a messy gross lump that lands directly next to Juno. She doesn't look. Not immediately anyway.

Instead, she falls forward into her wife’s waiting lap and, soon, both of them are laying in the field of flowers, heaving as the enormity of their accomplishment crashes over them in tidal waves. As their breathing steadies, eventually Juno finds the strength to shimmy from Lettie's lap to her chest, resting her ear over her heart and taking comfort in the steady thrum. The flames that once took over her entire form, burn away into the skies and leave only the black clad pirate behind. Her eyes are heavy. Her body is lead. She sinks further into her wife, tempted to let her guard down and let herself fall asleep under the open Desdemonian skies. Lettie would protect her anyway.

But the smattering of injuries groan and remind her that they're still there, even if nothing in Juno wishes to move. She isn't even convinced that she can. Everything, even breathing, takes an insurmountable amount of effort. "Is... Is it over?" The words fall lazily from her lips, mumbled into Lettie's skin. She can't even open her eyes or lift her head to look at her wife, her goddess. "What the fuck."

Because someone has to say it and it might as well be her. And, in saying it, she laughs. It starts as a breathy chuckle that builds into delirious giggles. She curls herself around her wife, gathering her into her arms and squeezing her even if she knows that no one else is coming to take her precious star away from her. Perhaps because a part of her, a part larger than she'd care to admit, expects Reapodeus to emerge behind them to take one final swing. On the intellectual level she might understand that she no longer has to fight and while she laughs now, her mind is still attuned to danger. It's still preparing for an attack that will never come. It still does not fully accept that they are both free.

For now, she can at least accept that this is temporary reprieve. She is familiar with that.

Her hysterics gradually subside and she sinks back into Lettie. Though she still struggles to keep her eyes open, she can smell the fresh new field of flowers around them. (She imagines all the faeries who are present with them, by virtue of being with the flowers. She can almost hear them and their relieved sobs.) The wind picks up and the green grasses and colorful flowers move like waves that lap at the collapsed duo. “What the fuck do we even do now?”

That question is answered immediately. Beside them, barely audible over the swishing field, is the weak staccato pulse of a heart. When Juno manages the strength to flip her head over, forcing her good eye open, a torn-up bloody pink heart beats next to them. The corners of a broken cube are poking through it, sparking and leaking black fluid. Juno reaches for it, immediately feeling the overwhelm of death in her palm. "One last time?"
 
What the fuck in-fucking-deed.

The finality of everything they've just done still hasn't completely sunken in yet. (Will it ever? It's still too soon to say.) The transformation, the door, the spirits... did they really do all of that? On some level, she's still in a state of stunned disbelief. On another, of course they did. They'd said they were bringing hell and the stars to this fight-- and stubbornly, they dug their claws in, no matter how tough the going got, and did exactly that. When they'd said it before, it's possible they didn't realize the scale or how far they'd actually go with it. Like, Juno actually went underground and fetched hell for them. Lettie was in flipping space. They did that. Them!

Lettie stares up at the sky, her eyes glazed over as she rides the hazy carousel of memories, recalling everything they did. They did that. When she feels the vibration of Juno's laughter against her chest, she blinks until she's present again. With a tiny, understanding smile she caresses the small of her back up to the back of her head, sifting her fingers gently through her short dark waves. 'It's over. We're going to be okay.' To punctuate this reassurance, she presses a kiss to her temple. Juno pulls her in closer, like she never wants to let go. Like even though she's exhausted down to her bones, if the world threatened to end right now she would still get up and fight it off just for her.

Fighting's all she's ever known... but they don't have to fight anymore. They're going to be okay. No longer are those words a chant Lettie's inner cheerleaders have to pep her up with to get by-- because they're the truth. No one in the worlds can deny that they're a couple of badasses. They're badass wives, if you will. (Stars. Are they finally going to get to enjoy it?) Lettie blinks hard against the tears threatening to spill, warmed as she's held protectively against Juno's core.

It's relief, it's the soft voices of her freed sisters whispering around them, the flowers and the overwhelming love the faerie feels for her pirate all bundled into one. Is it true? Or is it too good to be true? Is this moment destined to turn into another nightmare? Thump, thump, thump. Lettie listens to the familiar melody of Juno's heartbeat to anchor herself. Thump, thump, thump. Alongside the sound, she sends a silent plea out into the universe, asking that they don't take this away from her.

The sound of the heartbeat grows louder yet, to the point where Lettie gradually recognizes there's another one in the mix beside her and Juno's. She lifts her head, following the pirate's gaze to see what she's looking at. Ah. Naturally, their work wouldn't be quite over yet. Snuffling softly, she presses the heels of her palms against her eyes and lifts herself to her feet.

"One more time." Lettie agrees with a smile. "Then we have a wedding to plan." She puffs her cheeks, nods determinedly. They'll have many naps and baths to take. Flowers to grow. Games to play. Foods to make. An adorable cottage to decorate! Juno might worry now that without the fight, their schedule will be empty, that their days will be aimless... but Lettie has several ideas to ensure that doesn't happen. If by some chance it does happen, for any reason, then they'll cross that bridge when they get there-- eyes open, without ignoring it or hoping it just goes away. She trusts Juno to tell her. She trusts her. More than that, she believes in her. If the faerie didn't believe the pirate had it in her to live a happy life with her, she wouldn't have expressed the desire to get married in the first place.

Lettie's seen glimpses of the life they could share together, in their rare moments of peace... and she's decided she wants more than just glimpses. The faerie's never been surer of anything else in her whole life. Juno has this way of coaxing her out. The real her, a version of herself that was always there, just hiding. That softest part of her that wanted to be seen and known and chosen for so damned long.

Still, old habits die hard. Lettie summons up her magic circle, reaching inside for her hand mirror and checks her reflection. (For all they know, this new cube may be just as judgmental as the Magistrate.) The faerie's body still emits a soft, phantom-like glow, her irises are barely visible, and her hair continues to sway around her in elegant coils like she's underwater. "Huh. I wonder how long my hair's gonna do this... rainbow floaty thing." It really takes 'having a mind of it's own' to a whole new level. If anything, it's good that she's still in this state. They won't have to worry about her running out of butterflies, or concern themselves over hand-squeezes or shit bananas.

Lettie reapplies her lipstick before tucking her mirror away. What? This gay little faerie's gotta be ready for anything. Especially for romance at the end of the most epic takedown ever! She pops her lips, runs her tongue over her teeth for good measure, and then reaches for Juno's hand.

"C'mere, Juju." Lettie draws a glyph and then tugs her wife into a hug. Drawing on the energy of the flowers around them, the faerie focuses on easing the ache in her love's muscles, on healing her wounds-- enough so that Juno feels rejuvenated for their next task. (So she can see it through without passing the fuck out.) They've been through a lot, broken past their limits hundreds of times by now, and she can tell it took a toll. It's taking everything for the pirate to stay present with her. Lastly, she rises to her tip-toes and presses a kiss to her lips. "Feel better?" She smiles like they're sharing a secret when her wife nods her confirmation. "Good. Let's rock and roll."

With the most important matter of Juno's wellbeing settled, Lettie steps away to give her some space without ever releasing her hand. She strokes her thumb affectionately over her knuckles. Three squeezes has been their signal, but she's confident they won't need it this time around. The rest comes as second nature as they set their intentions towards the heart. Gradually, the heart levitates from the ground. With a wet and painful sound, the cube wriggles free and leaves a gaping wound where it left. Blood drips down like rubies over the flowers... but they won't let it bleed for long.

Lettie glitches out in her usual way, showing glimpses of her ribcage, the butterflies within her chest, but it doesn't concern her in the slightest. (She's brought the stars. She's got this.) Gradually, ribbons of light peel away from her form and wrap themselves around the heart like magical bandages. If the faerie were watching this unfold as a bystander, she might think it's a shame that the bandages aren't decorated with the cute cats. (Or deformed rats, as Juno would call them.) One by one, the beams of light peel away-- the opening has been stitched over, the bleeding has stemmed, and the newly healed heart descends in front of them. It shimmers, cast in silver and bright with possibility.

"...Do you hear anything, Juno?" Lettie can't help her curiosity, knowing she's heard voices of the dead that she hasn't in the past. "Is it working?"
 
The grasses and flowers move like waves and so does Juno. Lettie might have taken away the ache from her bones and the snaps in her joints, her shreds of flesh might now be sutured back into place, and no amount of magic can take away the exhaustion in her spirit. She died and came back to life to finish this. She turned herself into living necromantic energy. She bonded with sprites and lit herself on fire. She found Hell’s gate and brought it to the surface. All she wants is to collapse until the next dangerous thing comes knocking at their door. (Because her body is still convinced that it will.)

Avangeline’s heart demands their attention first, of course. Ribbons of light ensconce it, brighten, then peel away, revealing the restored heart. It pulses with silvery light; even its veins appear to pump silver. It reminds Juno of the trees on Avangeline, the ones that turned blue after she touched them.

When Lettie asks her question, the necromancer shakes her head. She holds out her palm to cup the heart, then pulls it close to her middle, canting her head to the side as she listens. “No. I don’t hear anything.” All she can suss out is naked exhaustion that has stripped whatever personality this heart might have once had. Beyond that is winter; something cold. A permafrost that’s just been touched by the heat of the sun for the first time in centuries. It’s a kiss that thaws. It's hope.

Juno inhales slowly, filling up to the top of her lungs. She holds the breath and swallows. Tears bite at the corners of eyes and she lets them fall in uneven lines, one eye flowing freely while the other gets trapped behind her eye patch. “She’s relieved, but she doesn’t believe it’s real.” She squeezes Lettie’s hand, turning to look upon her star. “I understand her.”

The cube they just freed bobs gently beside Lettie. Zigzags of yellow electricity jump over the faces then disappear in intermittent bursts. She’s relieved that this one doesn’t talk, though she isn’t quite sure what to do with it. Original flavor asshole might know. Not that she wants to consult with him. Mother fucker threw them into a nightmare without proper warning or preparation.

“C’mon,” she sniffs, nudges Lettie’s arm, and then gestures towards the temple with her chin. It’s miles out from where they are, and if she trusts anyone else to look after them, it’s the goddess. She’ll have an answer. Or context. “It’s too open out here. Let’s go.”

They don’t even make it three full steps before the sparking cube bursts into all consuming light and blips! them back into the goddess’s temple, where the hundreds of other cubes they’ve rescued are waiting. Each one of them projects their layered glyphs onto the temple’s stone walls. They hover in the air, drifting slowly through the chamber, never once running into each other or even getting within a foot of another cube. As they move, the glyphs on the walls move with them, running over the walls like the reflections cast by a spinning mirrorball. Just as with the cubes themselves, the glyphs never cross paths or get too close to another.

Among them, the Mayor still dons their regal red cape with the spotted fur lining. The Magician’s long gray beard looks freshly trimmed and oiled. (It moves on its own accord to avoid even brushing against another cube.) The Medic, the Magistrate, Melvin, and the original asshole all wordlessly blip! in and take their spot in this apparently choreographed ritual.

Juno spins around to track them all like a mother duck might check on her ducklings. ‘Map. Mother. Magnet. Manager. Matrix. Medium. Mystery. Mistress…’ As she accounts for them all, the one that brought them here drifts so that it's in front of them. Juno notices from her periphery and follows it, watching as a few of the other cubes cast light towards the final cube and fix its broken panels. A shower of multi-colored sparkles rain over the cube and, when it clears, Juno almost wishes she could unsee the cube that emerges.

This one has long fake eyelashes—but no eyes—bright pink lips, and a full set of coffin nails despite having no hands either. She loudly chews a piece of gum, blows bubbles, and snaps them between teeth that she presumably does have? It’s hard to tell. The cube never actually opens her mouth; even when she introduces herself in a sultry voice. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain Juno.” Crossing neon pink lines then emit from the cube, scanning Juno's muscles. This is complemented by the sound of her licking her lips; though, again, no tongue actually pokes out from her mouth. “Are you and your wife looking for a third? June-bug cubed has a nice ring to it, does it not?”

“Fuck off,” Juno growls, slipping one arm over her wife’s shoulder and pulling her in close.

The new cube shudders with offense! With the sheer audacity that this pirate is rejecting her, the brilliant and powerful—

“Mystique.” The Magistrate puts all the venom she can into this name, barely containing her rage. “Get into line, you filthy home-wrecker. If I cube you within three cubes of my Maestro, I will vaporize you.”

Juno looks down at Lettie. ‘What the fuck?’ is written plainly on her face, a mirror image of her wife’s same expression. (She won’t admit this, but the antics come as a relief. Antics mean the fight is over.)

Behind them, on her throne of bones, the goddess glimmers into sight, rising up from her queendom in Hell. She steps down from the throne’s platform, her long shadow blanketing over the duo. Juno tenses. A ball of fire sparks in her hand as she spins around. Though her cheeks redden when she recognizes the goddess, bowing her head and shaking out her hand to put out the flame. “I—”

“Save the apology. I know you, Juno.” She smiles then moves in shutters and shifts to meet them at the center of her temple. When she speaks again, her eyes flash and her voice takes on an otherworldly cadence. “The worlds are forever in your debt. Wherever you go from here, you will be welcome. You will be without want. You will be protected. Your few enemies will fall should they unwisely raise arms against you.” As she finishes her eyes dim and she blinks, as if unaware of what trance might have overtaken her. “Return Avangeline’s heart and we,” she gestures around the temple, “will take care of the rest.”

The goddess then swings her arms out from her sides, sweeping them over her head, and in the movement, several more arms fan out from behind her back. Each of them point towards the glyphs dancing over the walls, causing them to glow as she activates them in a matter of seconds. When all are alight, her temple shudders, and dust rains down from the ceiling as each cube spins in place. One by one, they brighten with their starlike luminescences and blip! away. (Presumably back to their home worlds?) Last to go are Mystique, the Maestro, and the Magistrate.

Rather than use a blip, the Maestro shoots down a beam of light from his bottom panel and opens up an archway made of bent tree branches wreathed in twisting vines and flowers. A faintly glowing mirage with dots of floating lights fills in the frame, preventing them from being able to see the other side. But that's all it prevents. From the other side she can hear Abigail sobbing, Marjorie attempting to console her, and Inez unhelpfully suggesting they party away their worries.

Juno squeezes Lettie's hand. "Better get back to the boneheads before they destroy shit."
 
They pass through the gate created back into Avangeline and hardly have time to properly reunite with the skeletons before they're beckoned by flickering lights to venture into what was once the Reaper's den. Lettie and Juno exchange a glance. There's one thing left for them to do. The silver streaks that once covered the heart guide them and make their descent down into the pit where that monster once lived. Hand in hand, Lettie and Juno use their will to help it access the place it needs to go-- deep down into Avangeline's once tainted core. A beam of light escapes the mouth of the abyss, the sealing glyphs left there by the Elders so long ago flickering away into nothing. The dangerous roots and flowers that grew around this place chip away their charred, poisoned layers. This reveals springtime green grass and smatterings of colorful flowers. The heart's energy swells and even more flowers bloom around them.

Overgrown, messy, but beautiful. Never before has she seen so many flowers clustered together in one place. (All at once, it's heartbreaking-- horrifying-- to take in the scale of it. At the same time, it's also cleansing. It's over now.) Lettie knows intrinsically that what they're seeing is remnants of faerie dust being resurrected, what little was left of their captive souls unchained now. They're finally free of that bastard's control. The faerie's eyes burn when she sees a blue gladiolus flower spring up by her foot, inclined to lean slightly against her ankle. Lina.

"It's over." Lettie breathes out, bewildered. Though it hits harder than before, it still feels like a dream she's about to wake up from. She blinks once, then twice. Tears well and stream down her cheeks before she can stop them. "It's finally over."

"What's the first thing you're gonna do when we break this stupid curse?"

"Other than run away with you, you mean? ...I want to sleep."

Nothing went according to plan that night. It ended here, in this very place. Still. Lettie followed the lead that she and Lina had worked so hard to find. That led her to her awful corporation job, which led her to Juno. They've been able to break the curse for not just her, but for every faerie who had been trapped in this hell. For all the generations of faeries who would have followed after them. 'It's done, Lina.' Lettie slumps down into the grass, relieved, exhausted and mentally drained.

It's time to get some fucking sleep.

***​

When they return to the surface for some much needed reprieve aboard their ship, they find her mother arguing with an Elder.

It's kind of hard to miss them, considering the Elder is about half the size of the airship. They have to dip their head down from the clouds in order to look Titania in the eyes. A being that is simultaneously angelic and demonic, feathered wings flare out at their temples, teal eyes trail down from their neck to their spine, and their arms are covered in glowing tattoos. They hum loud enough that it vibrates the earth, tapping the sharp end of their claw to their chin in contemplation. It's one of the younger ones. However, that doesn't mean they'll be any more open minded regarding...

"No." The Elder says after taking their pause. "It is forbidden. We cannot make an exception."

Ugh. Lettie can already guess what they're talking about. Unfazed by the majesty of the Elder after everything they've just faced, she sighs softly and drags a hand over her face. This is the last thing she wants to deal with right now. Soon enough, she'll live a life where she can snuggle with her wife uninterrupted. That's the sweet, sweet thought that keeps her going through all of this.

"I was cast out of my home... I don't want that for her." Titania argues her case. Though she's heavily bandaged in the aftermath of her fight with Asmodeus, she's still standing. She holds herself like a solid pillar of strength in spite of all her injuries. It's undeniably impressive that she called upon an Elder in her current state... that she did it for Lettie. (She's trying her best, but...) "Your rules are antiquated. Surely they've earned a place here together after everything they've done for Avangeline?"

"Don't bother, mother. We don't need their approval." Lettie declares, narrowing her eyes. The Elder squints back at her, like she's a piece that doesn't quite fit into their perfect puzzle. It doesn't bother her. The nightmares have subjected her to judgement so many times, she's become somewhat numb to it. (The only one whose opinion matters is standing right by her side.) Titania whirls around, surprised to see her daughter there. She rushes towards her, taking her forearms into her hands as she checks her over. Once she's finished assessing her daughter, she does the same for Juno. "It doesn't matter. We're not staying on Avangeline."

"Lette?" Titania shakes her head, visibly struck by the news. "I thought..."

"We'll talk about it later, okay? For now... I just want to get some sleep." Lettie squeezes Juno's hand. Avangeline hasn't been her home for a long time now. They might not have decided on where they're going... but as long as they're together? She knows they'll figure it out. "We both do."
 
In the aftermath of their showdown with Reapodeus, the days blend into a celebratory blur. With the backing of Avangeline’s faeries, the skeletons become an unstoppable force. They takeover the streets for a full three days, covering the neon jungle in confetti and booze. Demons and angels who colluded with the estate or otherwise benefited from the subjugation of the semi-divine are dragged from their fancy mansions and chased out of Avangeline proper. Their homes are sacked and destroyed, becoming hollow shells of an old regime.

After three days of faerie antics, the Elders step in and it’s a mad rush back to the forests. Though the Elders could pursue the faeries in the forest and though they could seek prosecution for the destruction of property, they never do. With the revelations of Asmodeus’s estate and the Creation Corp. coming to light, the Elders have been under fire for allowing such atrocities to persist right under their nose. So for now, the fae are allowed to do as they please (within reason) and most of what they wish to do is party their hearts out.

Juno doesn’t understand how they have so much energy to expend. Every time she thinks there will be a lull or that they might finally signal that it’s over, another keg is pulled from nowhere, a new band takes the stage, and they’re dragging her into another new dance. It’s a party with no end. (Lettie even says it could take at least a year before they're finished.) And, honestly, Juno can’t even fault them for it. They’re free. Even those who were never marked are free from the worry that they might be next. None have to worry for their sisters. None have to keep their loved ones at arm’s length anymore.

Even as the pirate turned hero observes all of this, she still struggles to accept what this means. Her denial does wane by the day and the instances where she’s struck by the thought that it’s over—that it’s really over—become more frequent. It’s there. It’s staring right in front of her. Someday she’ll see it. As it is, she still has to be warned before they set off fireworks and everyone has been advised against sneaking up on the pirate.

At night, when Lettie has settled comfortably on her chest, she wonders when the next attack will happen. She wonders if they need to account for that in their wedding plans. She wonders if this will ever feel real. She wants it to be and she knows Lettie does too. They have yet to address it, but she’s noticed the way that Lettie still carries tension between her shoulder blades like there’s still a knife hanging over her head. And at night, they hold each other through their recurring nightmares. It’s still impossible to talk about, but neither faults the other. Neither pushes the other before she’s ready. They hold each other, rub the other’s back, pepper kisses over each other until they’re calm enough again to rest.

There doesn’t seem to be an end in sight to this cycle, but Lettie is patient with her. She’s patient with Lettie. Having their family so close helps too. Titania visits everyday or as often as Lettie will allow. Ravan and Ariel have more or less taken a residence on Lady. Their mothers are frequent visitors too. Everyone pretends they’re only trying to help plan the wedding, but it’s clear even they can’t believe Lettie survived. Happy as they are, the circumstances should have been insurmountable.

And, also, the news spreads rather quickly that the duo will not be making a home on Avangeline. They all know they only have Lettie for so long—it doesn’t matter how often she and Juno reassure their family that they’ll visit often and host dinner parties every month, they’re mourning Lettie’s eventual departure.

Not that Juno or Lettie know where they want to end up. They still talk about it as this abstract and far away thing. They take turns holding their last wish and imagine their cottage on different worlds from Fabel to Desdemonia. (Ice world was struck from the list immediately.) But neither of them really know where they’ll end up. Neither of them really knew they’d be allowed to settle. It was always a wish and now that it’s real, they’re confronted with the burden of this choice. Though it is a welcome burden. It’s a problem they’re happy to have.

Juno suggests that they use their sugar getaway to travel the worlds and help them figure out where they might want to build their life together. They start making lists of the worlds they want to revisit. They joke about making a home on Skullville. They consider the candy currency world. Lettie suggests Sir Regis's home world. Juno antagonizes her by countering with the Magistrate's. Eventually, even with all their teasing, they come up with a list of twenty-two possibilities and then narrow that list down to seven.

One evening, as they’re taking turns rubbing each other’s backs and working out the knots in their muscles, Juno breeches the subject they haven’t been ready to discuss. “It’s over.” Her voice is low, barely above a whisper. She massages the heel of her palm into a particularly stubborn knot just under Lettie’s shoulder blade. “It’s really over.”

The faeries rallying outside their window are proof of that. These past few days of uninterrupted antics have been proof. The cube hasn’t come in to give them a paltry warning that they’re about to be thrust into the jaws of danger itself. No gods knock them from the skies. No guardians demand tributes. As far as Juno can tell, their peace might not have an expiry date.

But hasn’t it felt like this before? And hasn’t it been a lie every time?

Juno struggles to accept the truth, even if she wants it. “It still doesn’t feel real, Lette. I want it to be,” she assures. “I just… I think I’ve been stuck in survival mode for too long. I think I’m…” ‘Broken.’ She swallows hard on this admission. “I want to get better. I don’t always want to be like this—I almost punched Valerie’s lights out the other night.” Valerie might have been cool about it, but Juno doesn’t want to be a danger to others. She wants to figure out what normal looks like for her. "How's it been for you? Has it been the same?"
 
Lettie exhales slowly, melting down against the mattress. That feels really good. Juno's hands are heaven against her back. The faerie's phantom wings flicker away, allowing her more room to access places she might not have been able to otherwise. It doesn't matter that her scars are on display. They've both got them, after everything they've been through. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Whether it was behind make-up, a smile or a killer glamour, she used to be a master at hiding. Not anymore.

'This feels real, though. I want to be real.'

With that thought floating through Lettie's mind, there's a sinking sensation in her chest when Juno makes her admission. She shuts her eyes shut tight. Welp. Didn't expect that. 'It still doesn’t feel real, Lette. I want it to be.'

This short lapse of self-doubt is chased away when Juno continues her explanation. This isn't about her, obviously. (...Though maybe she does wonder whether or not she's doing enough to help here in the aftermath. But she's been grappling with them, too. The flashbacks, the nightmares. Expecting their world to come crashing down around them at any moment.) When Lettie looks at Juno, looks in at herself, she can tell they're both a bit scared-- a bit unsure-- and struggling to see their worth in the enormity of it all. So much has changed.

"You used to punch faces all the time, Juju." Lettie supplies this helpful reminder. She gathers herself up onto her knees, leaning forward to boop her wife's nose. "Almost is an improvement. It means you stopped yourself in time and I'm proud of you for that." She caresses Juno's cheek, her eyes bore into her wife's to make it known that she's not belittling this fact. It means everything to her that Juno is trying. After all the stories they've shared, her family here on Avangeline knows not to take any of those almost-punches personally. They don't hold it against her, either. "We're still trying to figure out what our new life is going to look like. Both of us. It's going to take some more time to get used to it is all. No one changes overnight just like..." She sighs, leaning back against the mattress and snapping her fingers. "that."

Even if the desire to change is there, it takes more than that. Changing requires a consistent routine of effort and choices that helps that growth take root and bloom ...Lettie's pretty sure she read that in a fortune cookie the other night, anyway. Sounded pretty smart. The Reaper fucked that up when he tried to find an easy solution to a complex problem, throwing any amount of morality he might have possessed out the fucking window for his own selfish gain. To become what he wanted to be, he drained faeries 'till they were dry. He created seas of dust. He became the rot at Avangeline's core, a monster.

Lettie would never compare Juno to him. Not even the version of Juno she met that first night, who threatened to sell her off the the Duchess. Deep down at her core, the pirate doesn't even like to fight. Most of the time, fighting hadn't been a choice so much as it was survival. This is just a slow process of her discovering who she could've been-- who she could be-- who she is now that her world has become a kinder place.

"Even me. I don't know how to explain it exactly. It's the same... but it's also different. The shit I'm working through is, ugh," Lettie struggles to articulate, gesturing around her head to indicate how jumbled her thoughts are. However, she wants to put it into words-- if only to help Juno better understand her. That sinking sensation in her chest, however briefly it lasted, still hit her for a reason. "I'm not actively trying to hide any part of myself away." She purses her lips. "But sometimes... I catch myself acting like I've got my shit together more than I actually do?" It's a bad habit. She suspects being on Avangeline has something to do with it. 'Fake it till you make it' used to be her motto as she flew about from one job to the next. "It's not like that with you. You help me chase the nightmares away... you know it hasn't been easy for me, even if I make it look that way sometimes."

Lettie blows a raspberry, sending her newly trimmed bangs fluttering over her forehead.

"Did you notice how everyone's been looking at me like I'm a ghost? Like I could disappear at any second? I know I told them I don't plan on settling here, but still..." Lettie shakes her head. It's like they're looking right through her. Juno's the one who sees her. (But maybe, just maybe, Juno is the only one she's really shown herself to. Maybe it's all on her.) She shakes her head, wishing she could shake the mess of her thoughts. "I know I'm real... I want to feel like I'm real. But that's been kinda hard to do, lately."

Lettie bites at her lower lip. It goes deep down into who she is, where her deepest insecurities lie.

"I guess I'm feeling the need to prove I'm real?" Lettie tilts her head uncertainly. Is that fucked up? Is something she should need to prove? Or is it a sign that there's still a part of herself she's still keeping locked away? (On top of that, there should be nothing more to worry about. Lately she's had so many genuine reasons to smile.) However... even with the goddess's promise to keep them safe from their enemies, it doesn't mean traces of sadness or doubt won't sweep over them on occasion. They've been through a hell of a lot. She sighs softly. "I'm working on myself, too. Like... owning up to it when I'm sad instead of hiding it all behind a smile."

If she cries now, will it diminish everything she's ever accomplished? Will everyone begin to see her strength as an illusion? Of course not. Lettie knows deep down that these concerns are ridiculous. But those thoughts still hold her back from time to time. The torture she endured at the Reaper and Asmodeus's hands left invisible scars-- the kinds she's still somewhat scared to show. (...Hell, Asmodeus had her hating herself so fiercely she used to cover her mirrors with a cloth.) They won't go away for quite some time. Eventually, she has to believe the peace will heal her too.

"We've been through it, Juno. Time is what we need right now. Lettie says, sitting up again and reaching for Juno's hand. She kisses her. "And lucky for us, we have plenty of it now. It's not just you, either. I'm trying to process the fact that it's over, too. Like, I'm always expecting the cube to show up any moment..." The faerie gives a long pause, allowing time for the little bastard to do his thing-- to jinx her like he's done so many times before. He never shows. "But that little bastard hasn't blipped us once." The only other time that little cube left them alone for so long was after they lost the skellies. "It'll get a little bit easier every day."
 
"It'll get a little bit easier every day."

Lettie’s not wrong about this. The days have been getting easier, but easier doesn’t mean easy. It’s still hard and Juno struggles to see where this might end and where normal might begin. (Even if normal was always going to look different for them.) It’s as far away a concept as believing they really would make it to the end, and she supposes they did that. They're here now.

She sighs, sinks into the mattress, and reaches for Lettie’s hand. They aren’t alone in this. Juno is not alone in this. For now, she holds onto this and uses it as her anchor, along with the reminder that they have all the time in the worlds to recover. (Still, she can’t help herself from wishing that this were easier; that the goddess’s blessings and all the healing sessions they’ve been through might have also touched their minds. But apparently there are some demons that magic nor divinity can touch. Juno thinks that blows.) When she looks at Lettie and all her scars, she finds hope. She was never going to give up, she just needed her moment to be weak.

“You’re the realest person I know.” Juno brings her wife’s palm to her lips, then peppers kisses down the length of her arm, over her shoulder, up her neck, along her jaw, until she’s finally at her lips and sinks into them. She grins lightly, barely pulling away. “Took me time to get to know the realest person, though. Maybe that also will come with time. Being real with all of them, that is.”

Juno can’t pretend she knows the full extent of what Lettie is feeling. While she’s also had to hide away certain parts of herself for the sake of her own survival, she’s never had a family like Lettie. Having family is almost entirely new to the pirate hero and everyone who has met her recently knows who she is at her core. (Something she never would have thought possible without Lettie.) She’s had the clean slate to be herself, even around Eliza to a certain extent. (And, to a certain extent, she could always be herself with Eliza.) Lettie’s family is used to a certain version of her, even if they’d be just as thrilled to meet her realest self. Juno is firm in this. Who wouldn’t like the fucking faerie?

“I can talk to them about looking at you like you're a ghost ‘n shit, if you want.” She’s noticed and she’s thought about saying something, because Lettie is here. She’s here and she’s real. She’s the fucking faerie, for crying out loud, and she’s not going anywhere. “But, for what it’s worth, I don’t think they’re expecting anything from you. I don’t think they’re expecting you to be smiling this whole time. Don’t forget, they went down into the Reaper’s Den, too, that first time. They saw shit. They know.”

Titania most of all, but Juno doesn’t mention that. The subject of her mother is still a complicated one and while Juno’s been spending more time with the angel, that doesn’t mean it’s her place to get between mother and daughter. On some level, she knows that Lettie knows. It doesn’t need to be said.

Juno sifts her hand through her shaggy waves, letting her bangs fall into her face as they always do. If she pulls down on her white locks, the longest strands can touch her upper lip. Lettie was supposed to cut her hair the other night after she had cleaned up her own bangs, but just as Juno was going to sit down, Inez burst into the room with a water gun full of rum and waged war on the duo. Of course they had to defend their honor. And of course that meant putting off her haircut.

Honestly, since everything with the Reaper and Asmodeus, they haven’t had much time to themselves. She isn’t complaining—it’s been nice to be surrounded by so many people—but it has meant that they’ve hardly been able to celebrate their marriage. Any quiet moments are used for sleeping or planning the wedding and Juno struggles to sit still long enough to go over more than a few items at a time. They’ve barely had the chance to let their Desdemonia family know they’re alive. (The twins are begging to see Avangeline now.)

“You know,” she starts, scooping up Lettie and placing her in her lap. Her arms wrap firmly around her wife, reaching to stroke the faint scar on her cheek, the one the Duchess gave her. “We haven’t really had a night to ourselves.” Their first night back might have been the only night they had fully alone, but after taking a cursory rinse in the shower, they passed out in an exhausted heap. Since then, it’s been a mix of partying and planning and planning parties. (If she didn’t know better, she’d assume Lettie’s fae sisters and the skeletons were trying to poison her liver.) Juno’s also been finding time to work on a secret project, project secret with Iris, who has promised her discretion as they work out her wedding gift to Lettie.

“I know we have forever, but we should get away from all this. Just you and me.” She kisses Lettie’s earlobe, then nibbles on it. “You said there are hot springs on Avangeline. We should visit those. Bet that'd help us relax.”
 
"Have I ever told you you're a genius, Juno? This feels wonderful." Lettie says, giving a deep sigh. The most stubborn knots of tension in her body finally start to unravel as she eases herself deeper into the steamy, moonlit pool. "View's not so bad, either."

The view is incredible. The pool they're in is partially shielded by a wall of rock scattered with mossy patches and sapphire crystals. Higher above, a sparkling waterfall streams in through an alcove. Tiny bell-shaped flowers and blades of grass grow between the stones lining the water. The mountainside stretches out as far as their eyes can see. It's mystical and magical. The veins on the trees, tall mushrooms, and sprites all glow in the dark. It almost resembles a dazzling city at night, abuzz with activity, just without the suspicious smells or the hustle and bustle of all the people in it. The surface of the water itself is luminescent, beautiful and clear. They can see right down to the bottom of the springs, even in the middle of the night. Their feet sway side by side, silver-streaked among the stones. If that wasn't enough, when they look up they can see a sky full of stars shining down on them.

Even so, Lettie's not talking about that view. The way she grins at her wife makes it plainly obvious she's talking about her. The water illuminates them both, gracing the faerie with the sight of Juno's dripping muscles in all their glory, her toned body... but most of all, the adorable look on her face as she takes in their surroundings. There might not be another soul who would think this, but childlike wonder suits her well. She gets all soft and endearingly dopey. Her sweet teddy bear pirate.

After Juno suggested they visit the hot springs, Lettie insisted on doing some research to find the perfect spot for their night out. They turned on some reality television in the background as she scrolled through locations on her new phone, humming thoughtfully and playfully hiding the screen from Juno whenever she tried to sneak a peek at it. There was something undeniably exciting about planning a date night, figuring out where they'd go without an asshole little cube deciding everything for them.

Eventually, Juno got caught up in the drama of the show-- squinting confusedly as she asked questions about the weird situations they were put in and why. (This question was especially valid at the time at the time she'd asked, given the episode they watched involved the couples spitting in each other's mouth to carry food to the end of an obstacle course. It's gross. The faerie had no explanation for that one.) "It's mindless entertainment." Lettie went on to mention that the show could've been her future-- but she turned down a spot on 'Fairytale Island' to prioritize her corp job. Sounds unromantic, honestly, but it turns out that was the decision that led her to the love of her life. Funny how life works out sometimes. "Thank stars I didn't take it." She shakes her head. None of those scrubs would've been able to stand a chance against her, anyway.

"I bet Prissy's real jealous right now." Lettie wades across the pool towards Juno. She drapes her arms around her wife's shoulders, leans in close, and kisses her. When Lettie pulls back, she combs a hand through Juno's hair to move it out of her face. "She had your lap to herself all afternoon." Fortunately for them, Prissy hates the water. Tonight is their night, no interruptions allowed! Well, except...

Any minute now... ah, right on time. "Juju, I have a surprise for you." Lettie points up to direct her attention to the two other faeries flying in before their entrance can alarm her. They're in their tiny forms, carrying a relatively large and sweet-smelling tray between them. When they set it down in the water, it floats. For added effect, they scatter flower petals down into the water around it.

"Thank you!" It's a struggle for Lettie not to bounce up and down in her excitement. (If she makes waves, she might topple their treats!) She checks to make sure everything she ordered is there and nods resolutely. "This is perf."

"Anything for you, Miss Olette." One of the faerie's pipes up, blushing as she glances at the two of them in the springs. Poor thing. She must be out of breath! (...Lettie does not account for the fact that her cleavage is on full display. And right next to her are Juno's muscles and toned body.)

"No need to be so formal." Lettie purses her lips, looking down at the tray and then back up to them. "Geez. It must take a lot out of you guys, making deliveries like this." The service is insistent on it, though-- something to do with their aesthetic. That's the appeal for some faeries, though, who prefer living in their tiny forms.

"Nah, girl. Don't worry about us." The other faerie flips her bangs out of her eyes and smirks brazenly. "We're jacked."

This, of course, has everyone except for Lettie flexing their muscles to show them off. (Not that she minds too much when it gets to be Juno's turn. So buff. That's her wife.) These faeries are surprisingly muscular themselves and it has Lettie thinking she needs to hit the gym again. (In her defense-- when she's got muscles like Juno's to swoon over, it's no wonder she gets so distracted!) Once they've wrapped that up, she offers the duo a generous tip and sends them on their way.

"Alright, let me take you through our selections this evening." Lettie smiles, steering Juno's attention back to the tray bobbing gently in the water. "Chocolate covered strawberries." The standard delicacy of a romantic night, what can she say? They're heart-shaped and skewered, making them look a little like dessert arrows. "Peanut butter cakes." While she couldn't order that specific candy Juno liked without getting the cubes involved, she hopes the cake comes close to emulating the flavor. The sweet smell it gives off is promising. "Fries, of course." They might be in a fancy bowl, but they're just fries. The most classic variation there is. No ketchup. "And champagne!"

This is part of the reason why Lettie didn't ask the skeletons for an assist-- as much as she loves them. (Had he known, Fred would have found a way.) This champagne is theirs and she's visibly jazzed about it. Though it takes a wee bit of wrestling for her to pop it open, she waves off Juno's attempts to help her with it. "It's okay. I got this, baby. I got this." With a fizzy hiss, champagne shoots out and splashes down over the side of the rocks. Oops. She shakes her head quickly, trying to play it unbothered. "...I planned that." She clears her throat awkwardly and goes on to fill both of their glasses.

"What do you think? Pretty smancy, right?" Lettie asks as she hands Juno her glass. She teasingly nudges her wife's foot with her foot as she sips on her champagne. Then she winks. "From here on out it's just us and the stars."
 
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