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personalityisnice · 2 years

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Before the finale of EXU: Calamity drops, let’s talk a bit about enabling.

Enabling, for those of you who don’t know, is when you allow another person’s destructive and/or self destructive habits to continue unabated, even when you have the power and are in a position of safety to do otherwise.

For example, let’s say you have a friend who has an alcohol problem. If they claim they’ve gone the day without drinking but you can smell alcohol on their breath or you find fresh bought bottles they’ve hidden somewhere around their place (or both) but don’t confront them about it and don’t ever plan to, that’s enabling. If someone is involved in dangerous or illegal activity and you cover it up, deny you know anything to keep them from getting in trouble, or don’t confront them about the trouble they could get into for their activities, that’s enabling. If someone is in a very bad relationship with someone and constantly covers for them and you either don’t point this out to them or repeatedly encourage them to get back together, that’s enabling. (On their part for their partner and on your part for them.)

With that out of the way, let’s talk about Loquatious and Laerryn.

Loquatious bemoans the fact that he won’t be able to protect Laerryn if she goes through with her experiment, and she tells him she doesn’t need him to protect her. Unfortunately for them both, she’s wrong. And her not being able to see that, I believe, is a result her ex being so good at protecting her she never even saw any of the danger he’s shielded her from up to this point. Not only can we infer this from the message he left behind in an attempt to absolve Laerryn of the guilt of whatever’s going to happen to the city in the eyes of whomever finds it, (a message she and the rest of the Brass Ring are, as of my writing, completely unaware of) but in the fact that Evandrin’s files and the woman who compiled them are gone from Loquatious’s office. Patia thinks it has something to do with the ritual she and Zerxus performed, but the simplest explanation is that they were purged by or on direction from Loquatious himself in order to protect Laeryn.

And it’s not just the exes: Nydas was in on Laerryn’s experiment. Nydus and Patia had a symbiotic relationship going on where she’d shepherd people from her inner circle looking for a deal to Avalir’s Guild Master and wipe any memories from them that needed to be wiped. Loquatious has said that he’s protected all of his friends, which suggests he’s been using his talent for gathering (and destroying) information in order to shield all of the Ring of Brass from the consequences of their actions. And Patia’s agreeing to erase Zerxus’s memory of his husband’s disappearance may very well have dropped him into the lap of a Betrayer god.

These people occupy positions of privilege that give them the ability to make the consequences of their actions go away. But not just the consequences of their actions, but those of the actions of the people that they love. Not only is this bad for the people that they and their loved ones hurt, but it’s bad for the perpetrators themselves. It’s enabling them. Because Laerryn was protected from the consequences of her actions (her experiments and her plans for them were hidden from the rest of the city, and no one knows the truth of what really happened to Evandrin) she was ensconced in a position of privilege where she never had to reconsider anything that she’s done or wants to do. And this isn’t even just about the tree. Yes, Laerryn destroying that tree because she wouldn’t or couldn’t comprehend that its purpose was far bigger and far more important than what she wanted to accomplish with it out of the way was a very, very bad move. But not only was that the case, she couldn’t or refused to see that the rest of the city may not have liked the idea of moving to another plane or could’ve refused it outright, (which would’ve forced her to either give up her quest or essentially kidnap Avalir,) or that there might’ve been some very terrible consequences awaiting a city that just up and jumped to another plane of existence. (Cognoza says: hey.)

Edit: And now that we know what we know about Evandrin, if Laerryn had succeeded they never would’ve been able to come back, as Exandria would’ve essentially developed the planar equivalent of Lupus against them.

There was similar discourse around the time of Traveler Con concerning the Nein, Artagan, and Jester. Now, there were other nastier factors at play here that I’m not going to get into because nope, but there was a small faction that seemed to think that if the Nein truly trusted and respected Jester, they wouldn’t have questioned Artagan’s motives at all and let them both do whatever they wanted without worrying about what could happen to them. And.....nope. Total nope. Absolute nope. It’s true Jester is far smarter and more savvy than she let’s on, but she also grew up alone and desperate for attention and affection because she had to hide away from the world. An upbringing like that makes even the cleverest people alive incredibly vulnerable to the right circumstances or the right people. (or wrong, as it were) You don’t necessarily fall for a con because you’re stupid; you can fall for a con out of desperation just as easily. And in the end the Nein threaded the needle pretty well in letting Jester decide what to do while also planning for things to take a sudden turn. Which is good.... because they totally did.

This is all to point out that: enabling is not love. Enabling is allowing someone to destroy themselves or other people out of the fear that confronting them with their actions will cause them to not like you anymore. This can be a fundamentally selfish act (not caring if someone you love is hurting as long as they still want to be with you) or one where you’re being taken advantage of (where a friend puts you into a position where they keep stringing you along and getting you to cover for them when it’s only hurting you both) or an act of self-preservation (if you’re in a position where it’s not safe to question the person with the destructive and/or self-destructive habits) but no matter the case, it’s not love. It can coexist with love, but don’t ever mistake it for love by itself. Love is not letting your loved one do whatever they want. It’s empowering them to better themselves, if they are a healthy enough person to do something with your support without draining you dry.

And all that is to say that these people, out of a misguided sense of love nurtured into being by their power and privilege, have enabled each other’s destruction. Zerxus Ilerez Cerrit Agrupnin

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the-broken-truth · 3 years

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Hey um if requests are open could you do house dimestrecu headcanons with a 👦🏻 reader maybe where the reader is alcina's biological son perhaps how the girls would be with an older brother sibling rivalry and stuff like that

Broken Truth: I smell drama! Let the words weave together!!

The Son of Castle Dimitrescu

"Mother, we brought you fresh prey." Bela said as she and her sisters drop the cloaked man on the ground behind the Lady's Grand Chair.

"Once again, my daughters are tending to my needs; so kind." Alcina said as she placed her wine glass down. "Let's take a look at them." She rose from her seat and looked down at the cloaked figure, obviously in pain.

"What is this, Daughters?" Alcina asked as she walked closer to the groaning figure - obviously male from the deep pitch of voice.

"We found him struggling to get to the castle - he kept muttering to himself." Bela said.

"He was obviously in pain but he really wanted to get here," Cassandra said as she kneeled by the downed man and grabbed the back of his hood tightly - catching his hair too. "Must really wanted to die."

"Ngh...Gah...M...M...Mother..." The man groaned but Cassandra scoffed before throwing his head to the ground - slitting the side of his head open.

"Ha, so pathetic - it's calling for its mother." Dani laughed when the smell of blood hit their noses. "Mmmm... He smells good. Do you want the first bite, Mother?" She asked.

Silence.

"Mother?" She asked again as she looked up at the tall woman...and the stunned look on her face - pure disbelief.

"Impossible...There's no way..." Alcina said as she sniffed the smell of blood again - it was familiar...far too familiar for her to be mistaken. She kneeled to the ground and gathered the man in her hands before yanking his hood off - her face gave a shattered expression when she took in his features.

"[Y/N]?" Her voice came as a whimpering whisper, she looked as if she was going to cry. The man opened his eyes - piercing golden eyes - and looked into Alcina's before smiling weakly and reaching out of her.

"M...Mo...Mother..." He said before his hand fell to the ground and his awareness was pulled to the back of his mind.

"[Y/N]? [Y/N]?! STAY AWAKE, MOTHER'S HERE! MOTHER'S GOT YOU NOW!" Alcina panicked as she gathered the man into her hands and ran out of the room, calling to the closest maid to get the doctor to the Old Master's Room.

The sisters just stood there confused for a few moments before they followed their mother and the man who was supposed to be their dinner.

[An Hour or So Later]

"How is he?" Alcina asked the doctor as she came out of the room with her mask on her face.

"He's very weak and malnourished, not to mention all of the scars and insection marks on his body. Wherever he's been for the past decades shows that he wasn't treated well and was used as a lab rat." The doctor explained.

"When will he wake up?" Alcina asked.

"Judging by the bags under his eyes and the paleness of his skin, he hasn't been able to get a proper night's rest - he might be asleep for a few hours or even days, but when he does wake up, he'll need a proper meal to get his weight back up." The doctor explained.

"Thank you, you may leave now." Alcina gave a dismissive wave of her hand and the doctor walked away as Alcina opened the door and walked. The entire time - the Dimitrescu Sisters were standing behind their mother, completely confused as to what was going on and why their mother was taking care of the food. They looked at each other before nodding and following their mother inside the room.

Here's the thing - throughout their entire lives living in this grand castle, they have never once been in this room; it remained locked for as long as they remembered and their mother kept the key close. When asked about the room, Alcina would get defensive and explain that the room was never to be opened - and if it was opened for any reason, there would be horrible punishments.

The first time they saw the room - it was grand: The walls were covered in Royal Blue Velvet with dark Ebony trims along the walks, the rug was large and circular - black with the Dimitrescu Crest in white in the center, the bed was against the wall with dark blue blankets and sheets, around the room was black wooden dressed and along the walls were different kinds of blades - from knives to full-blown dragon-head spears.

Bela walked over to her mother - her sisters following behind her - and looked as her mother eyed the sleeping figure of the man who rested in the bed with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

"Mother..." Bela tried to find the right words, "Mother, who is he? Why are you crying for him? Who is he to you?" Bela asked. Alcina wiped her tears before turning to face her 3 daughters.

"He...This man is someone very important to me. Someone I lost a long time ago before I met you, my wonderful daughters." Alcina said in the chair at the dresser - it was strong enough to hold her weight. "As you all know - I have a blood disease and it made it hard for me; one main issue I had was that I couldn't birth my own children...or so I thought." Alcina gave a sad smile.

"What do you mean 'or so you thought'?" Cassandra asked.

"There was a time, around the time I met Mother Miranda, that I found I was pregnant - I didn't believe it until I began seeing the results of pregnancy. I thought I would lose the baby, just as I had lost all my others but...I didn't. The baby was born healthy - it as a miracle that it didn't inherit my blood disease; it was strong...just like his father." Alcina smiled sadly.

"His Father?" Bela asked before her eyes widened in realization, "Mother...you don't mean..." Alcina nodded.

"Yes, that man is [Y/N] Dimitrescu - The Son of House Dimitrescu." Alcina smiled and looked at her sleeping son but the daughters...they could be more afraid.

[A Month Later]

Once [Y/N] opened his eyes, Alcina was all over him, babying him just as she did before he was taken away from her when he was a toddler - she tried asking him where he was for all that time but it made him whimper, he couldn't even be touched without flinching. His right leg experienced a deformity and Alcina gifted him a cane to aid him in getting his mobility back.

Whenever he would move, Alcina was right by him.

When he needed something, Alcina would be the one to get it.

When he was hungry, Alcina would personally demand the best food for her son.

When it was dinnertime, Alcina insisted that he'd sit beside her, which was Bela's spot.

Alcina would do anything and everything for her son - and the girls didn't like it.

They would try anything to get their mother's attention but nothing seemed to work.

Bela managed to get her mother a rare vintage - she shared with [Y/N].

Cassandra managed to hunt down large game for her mother - it was overlooked while she dined with [Y/N]

Daniela made her other a painting - it wasn't even looked at for Alcina was watching [Y/N] read.

The girls hated their older brother.

They didn't even see him as their brother - just an old burden that should have stayed gone.

He took their mother from them and he was going to pay for it. Dearly.

One day - Alcina had left for a House Meeting; [Y/N] begged her not to bring up the fact he turned to the castle in the meeting - it was a strange request but she agreed and left for the meeting. The moment she was gone, [Y/N] began to hobble in a random direction on his cane before it was suddenly kicked from under his hand, making him fall onto the cold hard tile.

"Look at this, sisters; the little thief without someone to protect him." The voice of Bela stood over him as she placed her foot on his back - her heel in his spine.

"We've been waiting a long time for this, you bastard." Cassandra said as she walked into the room with her sickle in her hand - the sight of the tip made the golden-eyed man freak out and try to crawl away.

"Oh, look. He knows he gonna die and he's trying to scurry away." Daniela said as she kicked the man in his side, making him curl in pain.

"No! Please, no more! Leave me alone!" He cried in fear.

"No more?! We haven't even done anything to you yet, rat!" Bela yelled.

"But you've done so much to us - taking our mother from us?! Have you lost your damn mind, Man-Thing?!" Daniela yelled.

"No, Mother, please don't! Mother! Mother!" He cried again.

"Mother isn't here to save you now but you're gonna suffer for all the time you spent with her, taking her away from us, you useless burden!" Cassandra raised her weapon and was about to strike when the words that came out of his mouth made them freeze.

"No, Mother Miranda; please don't hurt me! I'll be a good boy, just please, no more needles! No more pain! I won't ask to see my sisters again, please don't hurt me!" He curled up, clenching his head in pain as memories flooded back into his mind.

"Mother Miranda?" Bela asked.

"Needles and pain?" Cassandra said.

"His sisters?" Dani finished.

Bela took her foot off the man's back and listened to his pleads - his begging not to be hurt, wanting to see his mother, wanting to see his sisters. They looked at each mother before Bela kneeled on the ground before him and gathered his face in her hands, silencing him and asked what he was talking about. Once he calmed - he explained everything:

When he was a toddler - his father took him to see the Village's Priest, Mother Miranda, who gave him a large pouch of coin and he was never seen again. Mother Miranda then began to run experiments on him, trying to determine what made it possible for him not to inherit Alcina's Blood Disease. She mixed his blood with the Cadou and found an interesting symbiotic relationship between the two and was kept there for further experiments. The Cadou gave him the ability to regenerate faster but broken bones were harder to heal with the power. After decades of being a lab rat - he watched as Miranda made the daughters right before his eyes; he was there when they came to life and he called them sisters before Alcina called them daughters. He begged Miranda to see them, talk to them, and know something beyond the walls of his cell, but all Miranda did was cut him open and harvest his organs while he was still awake.

He managed to escape when Miranda was distracted with another experiment and left her keys unattended - he let himself out under the cover out night and got away from that hellhole. He had been limping with a broken leg, missing organs that were still regrowing themself, just to get to Castle Dimitrescu to see his mother & sisters.

The Daughters looked ashamed - for him to go through all of this for decades and risk everything to be with them...they were horrible sisters. They held him and begged for his forgiveness but all he could do was cry as he finally had sisters and was able to learn their names.

When Alcina came back - she wanted to spend time with her children but it turned out that the sisters wanted alone time with their brother and she was shooed out of the room - guess she'll have some wine until dinner then.

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the-writer-ofthe-fandoms · 4 years

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Symbiote (Lucifer Morningstar) (Ch. 10)

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Symbiote! GN!Reader Words:2.0K+ Warning(s): Talks of trauma, gore warning A/N: Heyo sorry for the l o n g wait, but life is life. heres the next installment of Symbiote~ Sorry if I miss anyone on the taglist, there are a lot of people asking and its hard to keep track. Chapters: Chapter 1, | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 |

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There was a moment of brief, heavy silence before a soft spoken answer was received: "Sure thing."

-----

Lucifer watched as (Y/N) immediately melted into a deep sleep and he expected Venom followed in suit. It was a cute site, he would be lying by saying their sleeping face was not cute. The way their lips were slightly parted, the soft snores, the way you were gripping onto and holding onto the pillow...

He shook his head, taking one last look before he moved himself away from the bed. There was a strange feeling that swarmed and filled up his chest. It was a feeling he had only felt a few times before in his long past. He couldn't quite place his finger on the strange sensation but tried to shrug it off. That can be saved for his future visit with Linda.

It was an interesting twist to his life, meeting (Y/N) and Venom. He thought the only thing was Chloe making him vulnerable but it seems like his time on Earth is adding more spice to his life.

Lucifer pulled out his cellphone and sent a quick message for Mazikeen, telling her to come to the pent house in the morning. After hitting send he closed out of the app and swiped towards his camera. Him taking a picture wasn't for black mail purposes, but his impulse to have some sort of silly photo on his phone was high. Lucifer crouched down near his bed and held up his phone, taking a rather adorable selfie of him with his tongue and (Y/N) asleep.

Lucifers head snapped in the direction of his elevators and the sound of an all too familiar, angelic brothers voice.

"Luci, I need to talk to you."

"Oh no." He gulped. He was panicking internally and lightly pulled the covers over his sleeping body guard as he figured out something to tell his brother. "Stay. Here." He gritted his teeth and made his way to his brother. "What is it Amenadiel, I was in the middle of something."

"I heard you were working with the human; the strange one that we aren't entirely sure is human."

"And what about it, Amenadiel?"

"You shouldn't mess with-"

"Let me stop you there. Were you not the angel to work with a devil and to work with me?"

"Yes but-"

"Listen, I have met with them and gotten know them. They are completely harmless."

"Are you completely sure?" Amenadiel stared down Lucifer with an intense look. "Are you sure they won't harm humans."

Lucifer went to speak but had to watch himself. He knew that (Y/N) and Venom were virtually harmless to good humans, but he also knew that Venom ate humans. Granted they were criminals, so basically almost harmless.

"They won't harm bad humans." Lucifer rolled his eyes when Amenadiel gave him a look. "You allow me to do the same thing: punishing the bad." That seemed to shut his angel brother up for a moment.

"Just be careful, Lucifer. You don't fully know them or what they are capable of."

"Thats the fun of this whole experience." Lucifer devilishly smirked while Amenadiel rolled his eyes. His brother didn't say anymore and just left. The King of Hells smirk fell to a more relaxed expression before he went back to his bed to make sure that (Y/N) was still in bed. He was expecting them still there, not an empty bed.

"Shit!" He exclaimed, although he kept his voice low. He listened carefully for any sound in his penthouse. Lucifers head perked when he heard a sound coming from the bathroom; it sounds like there is water running. He stepped to the bathroom in his bedroom and leaned his head close to the door,and it definitely sounded like the shower was running.

"(Y/N) darling, are you okay?" He was hoping either Venom or (Y/N) were sober enough to what they were doing.

"Fiiiine." A long, drawn out reply came from the other side. That reply did not sound sober. "Venom is still knocked out."

"What are you doing?"

"Gonna wash me and my clothes."

"Why don't you come out before you do that and wait until tomorrow."

"No!" After that shout he heard a thump on the floor. "Ow I fell..."

"I'm coming in, (Y/N)." He didn't waste time to open the unlocked door, but hoped that they weren't fully unclothed. Usually Lucifer wouldn't mind but in these circumstances he would like to respect his employee. He saw them sprawled on the floor with what looks like a cut on their forehead.

"Hnng..." They moaned out as Lucifer rushed to them.

"Your forehead..." There was a lot of blood, although he knew the alcohol had a part in that.

"Don't worry, Venom can heal it in the morning." Lucifer watched as they pushed themselves off the ground. "I gotta- I gotta lay down."

"Just lean on me, I will walk you to the bed." He wrapped an around their waist and slowly moved them out from the bathroom and onto the bed. "I will get a towel to clean all the blood on your face alright?" He helped them sit on the edge of the bed before darting back to the bathroom for a hand towel.

"I'm not usually like this." (Y/N) said quietly, their words still slurred but they sounded much more sober than earlier. "Don't ever give us alcohol like that again."

Lucifer didn't respond, he had no idea what to say. He began dabbing the cloth on their face, trying his hardest to be gentle while wiping away the blood on their cute face. Lucifer blinked... Cute? He mentally shook away that thought and continued to swipe away the blood.

"I'm sorry." They muttered. "We don't mean to be trouble."

"No trouble at all, especially compared to me." Lucifer chuckled. "Now before you go back to bed, are you sure your cut is fine? It looks pretty bad."

"Yea, like I said: Venom can fix that. He can fix a lot, he is currently fixing me right now." The drunk (Y/N) slightly giggled.

"What does that mean?" Lucifer felt a little bad for prying, but this was a prime opportunity to learn more about the host and the alien.

"I'm a perfect match, but on scans my body basically looks like it is actively dying, like complete organ failure. Venom is preventing that from happening." They sighed and looked downwards towards their chest. "He heals physical wounds too."

Lucifer was about to interrupt them when he saw their hand tug at the collar of their shirt,but when he saw just a small portion of a jagged, dark scar he almost froze. He has seen many horrid things that do not affect him, but this affected him in a sympathetic way. He had barely met the two but he knew (Y/N) and Venom were decent people compared to a lot of humans on Earth.

"If he can heal a gaping hole through my body..." They yawned, and continued. "He can heal a cut. Anyways, I sleep now." They laid their head on the pillow and almost instantly they fell asleep.

------

Your head was pounding when you were awoken by sunlight. You were sure this was a hangover and definitely sure you were feeling Venoms too. You didn't have to look around to know you weren't in your apartment, the feel of the silk sheets against your skin was a dead give away. Letting your eyes investigate your surroundings you could conclude this was Lucifers pent house. You couldn't piece much together after you fell asleep (the first time that is) but there were strange memories that were popping up; like going to the bathroom and Lucifer helping you a second time to bed.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and took a moment before standing up. You took steps to the bathroom, which gave you a sense of a deja vu, to freshen up a bit. When you got to the bathroom your (e/c) eyes widened at the site in the mirror. There was a nice sized gash on your head, starting from yohr hairline to barely above your brow.

"Venom buddy, are you awake?" You spoke, although your voice definitely sounded raspy from just waking up. "I need you to heal this." No response, the alien still must be asleep. As irritating as it was because you needed him, a small break from constant chatter was nice.

You sighed, and spent time with the rest of your appearance. You definitely had bedhead hair but it wasn't too much of a struggle to neaten out. You splashed some cool water on your face and took advantage of the bottle of mouth wash that was on the counter. With a stretch you left the washroom and bedroom, hoping to find Lucifer.

Right as you entered the main room the elevator doors slid open and there was the Devil you were looking for.

"Ah good your awake." He grinned and set down a bag and coffee. Here is breakfast for you. We have another case so eat fast."

"O-okay." You yawned while talking, opening the bag and taking out the bagel he got.

"I wasn't sure how you liked your coffee, or if you liked coffee, and bagel."

"Don't worry about it, I just hope the food helps with the hangover." You begin to chow down fast, hoping the food would stir Venom. "Venom is still asleep so he hasn't healed the cut. Which I want to ask if you know how I got it."

"Oh right. You went to take a shower with your clothes on and you fell and hit your head on the counter."

"Ah... Well I hope you forgive my behavior."

"Trust me, I have seen you humans act way worse while not under the influence."

"Nibble... No more alcohol..." Venoms voice finally was heard.

"Good morning Venom. Can you heal up my forehead please?" You heard grumble from him but you could feel him start to pull your forehead wound close. You could feel his goopy self start to enclose the wound before sinking back into you.

"Less subtle than I was expecting." Lucifers face looked almost impressed. You quickly finished your bagel and grabbed the coffee.

"I can drink this on the way. Do you know anything about the case your joining?"

"Only that it pertains to our killer." Lucifer made his way back to his elevator and you quickly join him.

"The Stalker case? This is a quick escalation from the last scene."

"Well according to what Chloe briefly told me, the crime scene confirms its Gene. And that we got the reports back from his prison he was released on parole but he killed his officer."

"Well shit."

-----

You and Lucifer arrived at the crime scene in around 10 minutes after leaving his place. Thankfully Lucifer lent you his sunglasses to help with the headache. Venom thought they looked cool too which was a plus. Officers eyed you as you stuck close to Lucifers side; they eyed you more than they did last time. You rolled your eyes and continued following Lucifer into the toy store.

"Detective!" Lucifer greeted loudly as he approached his partner. You slid the sunglasses onto the top of your head since the room was fairly dim.

"Another dead body..." Venom growled.

"Lucifer, (Y/N)." She greeted Lucifer with a look of annoyance but gave you a small smile. Although you can tell she seemed to be hiding something... Call it a journalistic hunch. "I need you both to see this. Now." She brought you both to around the counter where the store clerk would usually be, but there you saw a dead man.

The words 'stay away' were carved into his arms and you noticed the same two words were written next to his body.

"I take it our killer finger painted more in a different room?" Lucifer asked humorously.

"Yes he did in the store room." Detective Decker glared at him. "But he broke his pattern; he left these." She handed you two evidence bags, both with paper in them. One was a piece of college ruled paper with what seems to be an address.

The next was a picture of you outside the last crime scene with Lucifer laughing.

"Looks like he knows your investigating him again, (Y/N)."

"Well... Shit."

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areyounxsty · 7 years

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{{i find it kind of hilarious that @dracoarticuli talks about night vale being this Dangerous Place to Avoid Under All Circumstances and people not remembering ever having lived their because like

that’s. literally a significant part of skylar’s backstory}}

#{{her symbiote wiped her memory of the place}}#{{because it's dangerous}}#{{for ooc reasons it's because i wanted to keep her development while making her indie}}#{{but i still find it funny}}#{{and i kind of did it because like. i took a page out of caligo's book}}#{{because he used to be an eridan and there are people/muses who remember him being an eridan}}#{{but he doesn't remember it}}#{{so people can still remember skylar being a citizen of night vale and working at the station}}#{{and all this other shit that happened while she was still a wtnv oc}}#{{see: marce and tom and anyone else who wants to have their muse remember that from The Old Days}}#{{but skylar won't remember any of it}}#{{because her memories have been erased and altered so that}}#{{at least in her mind}}#{{she's never even heard of night vale outside of conversations with friends from there}}#{{and i think memory wipes like that are my favorite way to go from fandom-affiliated to indie}}#ooc #{{this went on a hell of a tangent but yeah}}

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rosethornewrites · 4 years

Text

Fic: the thing with feathers, ch. 10

Additional Tags: Transmigration, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary: A day in the market turns into a philosophical challenge for Lan XiChen.

Notes: Ren is a Confucian concept involving the virtue of altruism and humanity/humaneness. XiChen is lost in his teachings and how what he’s learning at Lotus Pier connect to those teachings at the end here, so we have reference to many ancient Chinese philosophers. I almost had this chapter in Madam Yu’s perspective, but I realized XiChen’s would be better. He’s changing too—particularly important because (at least imo) canon XiChen was very passive because of the rules he felt he needed to abide by. He’s being challenged by this experience. So are all the other characters, as we can see with Madam Yu in this chapter. The Chinese suffix -men is a way to turn certain words plural, often general words rather than specific. Thus, referring to the fact that they will have many martial brothers and sisters (younger and older) would justify the use. I know this only because of the wonderful @merakilyy, who has on multiple occasions been kind enough to answer my questions about Chinese language usage. Also, xingan literally means heart and liver and is kind of the equivalent of “my heart and soul.”

AO3 link

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

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

Living at Lotus Pier had been strange for XiChen for many reasons, not the least of which was spending so much less time with WangJi. He knew he wasn’t unwelcome by any means—Wei WuXian always greeted him with a smile and was happy to include him in lunch and their afternoon music sessions when he stopped by. But XiChen had always been friendly with his fellow disciples and had his friendship with Nie MingJue; Wei WuXian was WangJi’s first friend, the first person he’d allowed close enough, the first person who didn’t seem intimidated by what had often been interpreted as coldness.

He was afraid, during the weeks Wei WuXian was unconscious, that whatever WangJi had seen in the boy that had led him to give him their mother’s rattle drum all those years ago would lead him to grieve just as hard for this boy as he had their mother if he died. But he had woken, and despite the amnesia had glommed onto WangJi, as though by virtue of being the first person he remembered, he had imprinted, for lack of a better word. And WangJi seemed happy with their friendship.

So XiChen joined them for lessons each morning with shufu, often finding himself fascinated by the questions Wei WuXian asked, questions no Lan would think of. Though it isn’t clear how much was memory loss and how much was a freer upbringing, he could tell those questions sometimes challenged shufu, though he never lost his temper.

The most fascinating one so far was “Who decided what’s right and what’s wrong? What if they’re wrong?”

Shufu had asked for an example, and clearly hadn’t expected the boy to come up with one, but he had, a far-away look in his eyes.

“Like one part of a clan does something really evil, and people decide to wipe out the whole clan so it can never happen again. And everyone says it’s justified, but they let kids and civilians get killed. But if anyone tries to stop it people say they’re bad.”

XiChen had just stared, glancing finally at his uncle, who looked nonplussed. Shufu even asked if Wei WuXian heard of this occurring, and the boy just shrugged.

“The cultivation world can be wrong,” shufu finally answered, “and can fail in our obligations to the people. No human is infallible.”

Wei WuXian sometimes seemed to be far away during lessons, head tilted as though deep in thought, but shufu was quite tolerant of this given that he was still recovering, and given that he still seemed to take in what they were learning.

Overall, XiChen found Wei WuXian fascinating, and thought he was the right person to bring WangJi out of his shell. Already his brother was trying new things: foods, music, swimming lessons. Sect Leader Jiang had asked if both of them would like training in the Jiang style sword forms, even, and WangJi had nodded. WangJi smiled, even tiny ones most people didn’t notice, more in the last few weeks since Wei WuXian woke than he had since their mother died.

Even shufu seemed impacted by Lotus Pier. XiChen was able to help teach Jiang YanLi to read music and adjust to playing the konghou, the first time he was allowed to teach. He had never played one himself, but teaching her to read music had been fun, and he found her company pleasing—they were never unaccompanied as it would be inappropriate, generally with shufu overseeing or one of Madam Yu’s maids in the room. She had already gotten blisters from playing her beginner konghou but seemed unbothered by them.

“I had to get used to developing callouses from chopping vegetables,” she confessed to him. “I know this is part of the process.

He had the opportunity during lunches with her, WangJi, and Wei WuXian in the infirmary to enjoy her cooking—her talent in that regard was unmistakable. She was also a quick learner, and he admired her commitment to becoming a healer, particularly after learning she had to commit to improving her weak cultivation to do so. XiChen had actually learned several techniques from listening to shufu advise her.

He found her quite admirable.

But more, shufu just today invited XiChen and WangJi to be open with their emotions with him, where he’d previously lectured them on excessive emotion. And he had cancelled lessons for the first time since XiChen could remember!

They were sent off with the Jiangs and Wei WuXian to enjoy the town, the first time circumstances had allowed it. Madam Yu’s somewhat scary personal maids and a couple disciples accompanied them, all carrying baskets for purchases.

This excursion was significantly different from the one he and WangJi had undertaken shortly after Wei WuXian woke. For one, they had no clear goal, the pace leisurely. For another, it was the first time Wei WuXian had left Lotus Cove since the attack and his illness. He carried his sword as he had not in Lotus Cove, his recovery having exempted him from the custom. In many ways, this was him rejoining the world as a cultivator.

Immediately, townspeople reacted to seeing him, and the younger boy was clearly a little overwhelmed, clinging to WangJi’s arm and attempting polite smiles. WangJi, for his part, frowned at people who got too close. Jiang WanYin flanked Wei WuXian’s other side, a bit like a bodyguard. Jiang YanLi walked in front of him, greeting the people kindly and letting them know her brother was still recovering. When gifts were given, she placed the parcel in one of the baskets carried by a disciple or maid.

Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu were at Jiang WanYin’s side, arm in arm, politely greeting the people as well.

XiChen walked beside WangJi, watching the proceedings with interest; the people of Lotus Pier clearly had great affection for the Jiangs. It was a relationship that differed greatly from that of Cloud Recesses and Caiyi, the nearest town. But Lotus Cove was nestled aside the city and aided most of the commerce in town. It was a symbiotic relationship, and the gifts represented the esteem the town held for their role in its success.

“Yingying!” rang out across the market, coming from an elderly woman manning a baozi stall. “Come give popo a hug.”

To XiChen’s surprise, the boy brightened and broke away from WangJi’s side to approach the woman, who pulled him into her arms in a gentle but firm embrace.

“Popo was so worried. I heard you were sick.”

Wei WuXian nodded, looking up at her.

“I… Popo, I lost all my memories,” he admitted. “But you sent the baozi and I remembered you.”

The woman looked up at Sect Leader Jiang, who nodded grimly. Tears filled her eyes.

“Oh, you poor child. That must be frightening. Let me wrap up some baozi, extra spicy for you and some mild for your siblings and friends. You can come to popo anytime.”

She released him from her embrace and then handed Wei WuXian a fresh bun. Watching him eat reminded XiChen none of them had breakfast, but the woman handed out buns to each of them.

“You Lan don’t like meat, as I recall, so here are some stuffed with bok choy, mushrooms, and tofu.”

The woman wrapped up more, ignoring her customers, who didn't seem upset, instead chatting with the Jiangs animatedly.

The baozi was delicious, though spicier than XiChen was used to. WangJi and the Jiang children seemed to similarly enjoy theirs. Popo gave Wei WuXian one last hug and then waved them off with an order to come visit more.

Madam Yu and Sect Leader Jiang alternated between talking to townspeople and looking at each other in a way XiChen sometimes saw between courting couples. He tried not to watch, instead paying attention to the people who approached and the wares in the stalls they passed.

Wei WuXian’s admission to popo was spread as quickly as word had spread of WangJi and XiChen’s connection to Wei WuXian the day they bought the rattle drum, and people were gentler in their approach to the boy, offering their names and details to help him.

Largely they were met with blank looks and apologies, which they waved off amiably. But occasionally Wei WuXian smiled widely as a shred of memory returned, and he greeted them as well as he could. These moments were precious, he came to see, both to the townspeople and the Jiangs.

The toy maker they visited greeted him enthusiastically and after a whisper from WangJi, Wei WuXian thanked him for the dizi, bowing properly with his sword.

“I play it every day,” he told the man, who beamed proudly. “Lan Zhan plays the guqin with me.”

“When we heard you were ill, the wife and I made it with you in mind. You’ll want a proper dizi eventually, but we hoped it’d cheer you up.”

Sect Leader Jiang paused at that.

“A proper dizi?” he asked.

The toy maker bowed to the sect leader.

“For musical cultivation, if young master Wei decides to do that,” he clarified. “I’m afraid I don’t have the skill to craft spiritual tools, only toys.”

Jiang FengMian looked thoughtful, and Jiang YanLi spoke up.

“It would be lovely to learn musical cultivation together with a-Xian, a-die.”

She shared a glance with WangJi, and XiChen realized they had been discussing this matter.

“I’m learning to wield a whip, too, so it makes sense for him to learn that,” Jiang WanYin added.

XiChen realized they were glancing at Madam Yu surreptitiously, and he could guess this was a sore spot.

WangJi once, in a rare moment when Wei WuXian was otherwise occupied, had expressed concern over Madam Yu’s occasional hostility, and XiChen had noticed the same. She seemed to be trying to do better, but from what he had heard from disciples while training on the field, she held resentment for Wei WuXian. She had changed since the attack, but old habits were hard to break.

Madam Yu, though, made a thoughtful noise.

“He could potentially learn the songs that have helped with the resentful energy. Could that aid in his further recovery?”

XiChen realized the question was directed at him and scrambled to answer.

“I don’t know, but it would give the Jiang sect a second musical cultivator who could help with such matters,” he said, striving both for diplomacy and to help the Jiang siblings and WangJi with their quest.

“Xingan, what do you think?” Sect Leader Jiang asked, looking at Madam Yu.

She blushed when she realized he was speaking to her. The term of endearment seemed to take her by surprise, and she smiled in a way XiChen hadn’t seen before.

“A spiritual instrument is a good investment in his future cultivation,” she finally said. “I hope to have a-Cheng training with zidian in the next year as well.”

“We’re raising fine children, my lady,” the sect leader said.

Her smile grew, the flush spreading across her face, but she turned to Wei WuXian.

“A-Ying, we’ll find someone to make you a dizi that will serve as a fine spiritual tool.”

The boy smiled up at her, clearly happy with the idea.

“Thank you, shenshen. I’ll work hard.”

“Not too hard until you’re better,” Madam Yu said, patting his head affectionately.

The Jiang siblings shared a triumphant look with WangJi and XiChen caught Jiang FengMian looking at them indulgently—he clearly recognized their plot and had played into it while allowing them to believe they were being sneaky.

XiChen had never seen adults act like that before, but he was certain it instilled confidence in the Jiang siblings and perhaps even WangJi, which wasn’t a bad thing. It was a bit dishonest but with good intentions, an odd grey area.

The adults approached several stalls and purchased gifts for the children—even WangJi and XiChen, to his surprise. Wei WuXian was given a new guan for his crown, an elegant lotus carved of deep purple lavender jade, something that seemed almost a message, Madam Yu picking it out personally.

Jiang WanYin received huwan to protect his wrists during whip training, elegant with purple lacing and metal inlaid for extra protection. Maiden Jiang received mortar and pestle for learning to make medicines, crafted of a light lavender jade that had variation in color ranging from white to deep purple. The gifts were clearly meant to show support for their recent cultivation decisions.

WangJi and XiChen were gifted matching purple and blue tassels with a lovey carved medium-hued lavender jade lotus attached to hang from their belts beside the charms that allowed them in and out Cloud Recesses.

“To remind you of your stay,” Sect Leader Jiang told them.

It seemed he was unaware of the significance of the jade tokens they wore, and of the rule against unnecessary adornments, but XiChen was certain shufu would be fine with them. After all, they were a representation of the connection they had forged to the Jiang sect.

“And to serve as an entry token if you need to revisit Lotus Cove,” Madam Yu added. “Our disciples will recognize the gift.”

He noticed they had purchased more, and that the seller didn’t have them available publicly, and realized perhaps they did know, even if their tokens didn’t have the same properties as the Lan ones. Likely the extra tokens were for shufu and the healers.

XiChen examined his, noting the craftsmanship of the lotus, how real, if miniature, each petal seemed. It was set into a silver disc through which the tassel’s cord threaded, held in place with knots and flat paler purple jade beads carved to resemble the Jiang sect flag’s lotus symbol.

WangJi, he saw, was already affixing the token to his belt to hang beside and behind his Lan token. XiChen did the same, then he and WangJi bowed to Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu in thanks for the gifts.

The tokens didn’t have the Jiang clarity bell the sect wore, but that was unsurprising; unless he or WangJi joined the sect, they would not receive one. Yu ZiYuan had reminded Wei WuXian to don his today, on his first trip out of Lotus Cove, and it hung from his belt.

“I won’t lose it,” he had promised, three fingers raised to make it a vow, that odd far-away quality to his voice.

Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu had exchanged concerned looks.

“See to it you don’t,” Madam Yu had finally replied, then stepped forward to fuss over the way his robes hung.

As he had lost weight from his ordeal, they no longer fit properly. Little could be done about that; as the boy recovered, the robes would fit him again, barring a growth spurt.

The sound of barking jolted XiChen back to the present. Wei WuXian went pale, moving closer to WangJi, hiding his face against his back as though it might hide him from the dog. The Jiang children took positions around him, ensuring he was surrounded and protected.

“It’s okay, didi,” Jiang WanYin murmured. “You’re safe. We’ll keep you safe.”

XiChen abruptly remembered that Wei WuXian had been attacked by dogs and had scars. The fear was clearly so deep-seated that his amnesia hadn’t removed it.

The dog came into view, a scraggly cur, and a child dashed out from behind a stall to chase it off with a stick, others similarly armed joining from nearby.

When the dog was gone, the children returned, and XiChen could tell from their appearance they were street kids.

“Wei-xiong, we chased it away,” the oldest-looking boy called softly. “Sorry we let it get so close.”

When they didn’t get an immediate reply from Wei WuXian, the child looked at the others, six of them who could have ranged between four and eight. The youngest was a little girl, and the rest were boys.

“Like Wei-xiong taught us,” he said, his voice authoritative.

The children broke into an approximation of a proper bow.

“Greetings, Jiang-zongzhu and Yu-furen,” the children chanted.

The adults exchanged a look.

“Greetings,” Jiang FengMian returned after what seemed to be a silent conversation between himself and Madam Yu. “You know a-Ying?”

The eldest-looking nodded, clearly having elected to speak for the group.

“Wei-xiong buys us food and taught us to stick together so the dogs and bad people won’t get us and is teaching us to read and other stuff,” the boy explained.

From the way the children were peering at Wei WuXian, still hiding behind WangJi, they were terribly worried about their young friend.

“You’re the ones he plays the dizi to?” XiChen asked gently.

The children nodded.

“What other things was a-Xian teaching you?” Jiang YanLi asked softly.

“Like how to feel qi so we can use it to stay warm in the winter,” the eldest boy replied, then bows quickly and politely. “Jiang-guniang.”

“I miss Wei-xiong,” the little girl said, her voice tremulous. “Is Wei-xiong better now?”

“He might not remember us, a-Lian,” another boy said softly.

The children had clearly heard the news spreading through Lotus Pier of Wei WuXian’s amnesia.

Wei WuXian peered out from where he had hidden his face against WangJi, cautious despite the dog having been driven away.

“A-Lian,” he murmured, pronouncing the name slowly. “I… I found you. By a lotus pond. You were all wet and crying.”

He stepped out from behind WangJi, moving as though in a trance, lost in a newly returned memory.

“You said your name was a-Jī (圾, trash),” and XiChen couldn’t quite hold in a gasp at a child believing such to be their name. “And so, I said you were a gift from the lotuses and should be named a-Lian.”

The little girl rushed forward, crashing into him.

“Wei-xiong,” she sobbed, her little arms around his waist. “You were gone for so long and they said you were sick, and I was scared.”

Wei WuXian looked dazed and overwhelmed, and XiChen realized that a trickle of blood was oozing from his nose—it hadn’t happened in a few days, but he had been overstimulated today with this outing…

WangJi also noticed and put an arm around him as he swayed dangerously, keeping him upright. Wei WuXian’s grip loosened on his sword, and Jiang WanYin took it before he could drop it, murmuring that he’d carry it for him.

To XiChen’s surprise, Madam Yu lifted both Wei WuXian and the urchin girl into her arms. Neither resisted, the boy’s head lolling against her shoulder. She didn’t even bother looking at FengMian.

“It seems we’ll have a few new disciples, then,” she said, huffing as though irritated, but it had less impact with two children in her arms. “We’ll see whether a-Ying has good instincts, but we certainly can’t have homeless children in Lotus Pier.”

XiChen had to avert his eyes at the intensity of Sect Leader Jiang’s adoring look toward Madam Yu. He clearly approved of her decision, but the level of ardor in the way he looked at her was too much.

The locals who had gathered murmured amongst themselves, the words of surprise and admiration carrying. That the Jiangs would see fit to solve the problem of street urchins by adopting them into the sect was almost unheard of—but they had done so with Wei WuXian. Why not the urchins of Lotus Pier?

From what XiChen could hear, it raised the admiration of the people toward Jiang FengMian, and their opinion of Madam Yu, who apparently had up to now had a reputation for being cold. But here she was in the marketplace holding Wei WuXian on one hip and a little girl in tattered clothing on the other. It was softening her image to the people and making them doubt the rumors of an unhappy marriage.

The street children looked confused, uncertain, and Jiang FengMian addressed them more gently.

“Would you become disciples of the YunMengJiang sect? You would live at Lotus Cove, receive an education, and fed and housed and clothed. Even if you do not have the talent to become cultivators, you would not be homeless,” he told them. “A-Ying and a-Cheng and other older male disciples would be your shixiongmen, and a-Li and other older female disciples would be your shijiemen. You’d also have shidimen and a-Lian would be your shimei.”

The children seemed to realize they were being offered adoption, of a sort, into a martial family. Into the Jiang clan. There was a cautious sort of hope spreading among them.

“Really?” the oldest boy asked, his voice almost hollow with awe. “You really want us?”

“Young man, we would not offer if we didn’t,” Madam Yj snorted. “If a-Ying is already teaching you to read and how to circulate your qi, we would be remiss if we didn’t continue your education.”

The children looked at each other, their growing excitement obvious. After a moment the eldest boy bowed deeply, almost a kowtow, and the other children rushed to copy him.

“This one thanks Jiang-zongzhu and Yu-furen for your kindness. We unworthy ones are happy to accept your generous offer.”

“Whether you’re unworthy has yet to be determined,” Madam Yu responded sharply, almost a scold at the boy’s self-effacement. “I expect you’ll prove worthy.”

She handed the little girl to Jiang FengMian, who settled her on his hip, so she could get a better grip on Wei WuXian, who seemed barely awake and unable to hold onto her well. One of her maids stepped forward and gently dabbed at his nosebleed with a cloth.

“I think a-Ying has had quite enough excitement for today,” Madam Yu announced, patting his back gently.

“And we have some new disciples to settle in at Lotus Cove,” Jiang FengMian added with a smile. “Time to go home.”

The sect leader offered his free hand to Jiang WanYin, who tried and failed not to look thrilled at his father’s attention as he took it.

Madam Yu’s maids led the way, the children between them, Madam Yu and Jiang FengMian following with the Jiang children in tow. WangJi stayed close to Madam Yu and Wei WuXian, who seemed to have fallen fully asleep, and XiChen focused on following him. The accompanying disciples followed behind him.

XiChen barely noticed the way more people in the market approached to place items in the baskets the disciples carried as they walked back to Lotus Cove, or the way Maiden Jiang thanked each person by name. He was too busy considering what he had witnessed.

He was aware that many in the cultivation world doubted that commoners could be taught to cultivate, but the very fact that Wei WuXian, a mere ten-year-old, had taught them the basics enough to ensure they could circulate their qi to keep warm… He wondered if perhaps that was just an attempt to keep a sort of class or caste system. There was no benefit to society to have children starve in the streets, as Wei WuXian had, without hope.

Ren would seem to dictate the need to better the world through acts of altruism like Wei WuXian had been practicing and which had been demonstrated by Madam Yu and Sect Leader Jiang today. XiChen‘s studies had covered multiple philosophers. Mengzi dictated the need to show compassion to orphans. Mozi, though controversial to the Lan for his rejection of music as frivolous, called for inclusive and universal caring, doing so beyond family boundaries. Laozi saw loving through giving as a necessary virtue.

XiChen was constantly aware of the duties he would eventually take on as clan leader and the rules within the clan he was expected to uphold, but the events of today had him wondering if perhaps he should start thinking about the role of GusuLan in the larger world. Acts of charity, taking in orphans, working to better the world at large.

These thoughts kept him occupied on the walk back, and he was only broken from them by the look on shufu’s face at the unexpected addition to their party—confusion, but also a sort of thoughtfulness as Sect Leader Jiang briefly explained.

Perhaps shufu was also having similar thoughts. Maybe XiChen could speak with him about them at some point.

For now, he followed WangJi as he trailed after Madam Yu toward the infirmary. The voice of Jiang FengMian ordering disciples to help settle in their new peers with baths and clothing and a good meal, organizing the new additions to YunMengJiang, faded behind them.

When Madam Yu left them in the infirmary, Wei WuXian in the care of Healer Kang, the quiet was welcome. The healer settled the boy in his bed after a brief examination.

Eventually, XiChen realized WangJi was watching him in concern and offered a smile he knew was weak.

“A little overwhelmed,” he said, and knew WangJi, who so often was overwhelmed by the noise and furor of the world, understood.

WangJi gestured, settling on a cushion near the table in a meditation pose, and XiChen smiled, mirroring him.

He had time to ruminate on the events of the day and how they might inform his future actions. The best course for the moment was to find grounding and calm while they waited for the chaos that had overtaken Lotus Cove to settle.

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grimalkinmessor · 5 years

Text

Refract

(Okay, so, a friend of mine pointed out--after I pestered her for days--that she can't read things on Ao3. So I'm reposting this here so she has no excuse to deny me feedback anymore 😜 Love you, Hev!!!)

Starker - Superior Iron Man/The Spider

It was an oversight on his part.

A grevious oversight.

An oversight that was costing him time, money, and popularity. Unacceptable. Time was annoying, money was dispensable, but someone had publicly defaced his name. On his own damn building.

Unacceptable.

Tony stared up at Stark Tower with a scowl that could melt titanium. Several jittery, frightened PR agents and employees fluttered around him, not daring to get too close. At least they weren't that stupid.

"Who did this," Tony seethed. No one answered him for a beat, and his fury skyrocketed. "Who did this? I want a fucking name!" He roared as he whirled on the fidgety interns, who scattered like bowling pins in the face of his rage.

"W-We don't know, sir," A random employee in a lab coat stuttered. "The c-cameras were s-sc-scrambled, sir; they didn't catch the perpetrator. But the criminal did leave behind this." She shakily extended a black slip of cardstock, and Tony snatched it from her.

He flipped the flimsy strip of paper over to reveal a bright red spider printed in the center of the black. His lip curled up into a sneer. "A spider? Is this supposed to be a calling card?"

The woman swallowed. "With all due respect, sir," She pointed a trembling finger up at the message splattered across the stainless steel and glass of Stark Tower in drying blood, a body staked beneath it. Tony unwittingly followed her gaze. "I think that's enough of a calling card."

He's Gone

STARK

Ravin' Mad!

Tony snarled, "I'll find this bastard. And when I do, they're going to wish they'd never been born."

•🕸️•

Rumors of a mercenary called the Spider littered the darknet like candy wrappers. Attestments to his prowess, curses to his name, shaky accounts of his insanity. It was enough for Tony to put together a profile, but not enough to get an actual name.

The Spider had popped up in the merc community about six months ago, by the looks of it, and began to carve his name into the world with numerous bodies in various stages of dismemberment. Statements said that he hung around a regular haunt for mercenaries all the way in New York, but no one had ever seen his face, nor heard of a name beyond the one used as a title.

"What the hell was a merc from New York doing in San Francisco? Besides fucking up my building," Tony growled as he ripped ruthlessly through firewalls and code locks in search of more to go on.

When further digging yielded nothing, Tony nearly flipped the table over in a fit of anger. Instead, he dug his fingers deep into the lacquer his desk and drew in a deep breath. Tapping the bracelet on his wrist, Tony stood and rolled his shoulders. "JARVIS, clear my schedule for the next week. I'm going to New York."

"Shall I reschedule your meetings for next week, sir?"

"No. I wasn't going to go to them anyway. Send Pepper and her complaints to voicemail," Tony drawled as the symbiotic metal slunk up over his chest and secured itself into something solid.

"Of course, sir."

Then Tony was off to stomp on a pest.

•🕸️•

Tony Stark walking into Sister Margaret's was like a lion strolling into a herd of sheep. The entire bar immediately went silent, tension and fear thick and cloying on the back of his tongue. Tony strode across the room with easy confidence until he reached the bar itself. The crowd of unwashed murderers parted for him like the Red Sea for Moses.

Shaggy, dirty blond hair hung over thick coke bottle glasses to tangle in an even dirtier goatee. Bloodshot eyes of an unidentifiable color glanced lazily up at him. An almost imperceptible flash of tension twitched through the bartender's body, before it slumped back into a nonchalant slouch. "Can I help you, Wall Street?"

"Weasel, is it?" Tony drawled, the picture of relaxation. "I'm looking for a friend of yours."

"Friendship is for toddlers and Bronys," Weasel sneered. "Whoever you're looking for, they aren't here. Now run along back to your supermodel orgies and Extremis campaigns. Unless you have a fetish that makes you make want to rub elbows with us peasants, that is."

"Oh, but I would just love to get up close and personal with a certain arachnid of yours. Because he's already rubbed me all kinds of the wrong fucking way." Tony lashed out a hand caught Weasel by the collar of his hoodie. Almost every patron in the bar pulled a gun on him, and a few even shot. Tony glanced back dispassionately with half-lidded eyes as the bullets ricocheted off his force field and sought their way back into their owners' skulls. Six people dropped to the floor of the bar, dead. Tony sniffed and turned back to Weasel, whose calm facade had abruptly abandoned him. "You have three days to get the Spider to come to me in San Francisco, or I burn you and your establishment to the ground, understand?" He said darkly.

Weasel had gone pale, faintly green, and he looked half a second away from puking as he nodded rapidly. Tony released him and wiped his hand off of his pants with a grimace.

"Good. Three days, and then I come after you with war on my heels. Don't disappoint me."

Tony left the bar behind him and straightened out his three-piece suit with a huff. He flicked his wrist and the surveillance device he'd implanted in Weasel's phone flared to life. Sure enough, not five minutes after he'd walked out of the bar, the Bluetooth in his ear flared to life.

"Wes! What's the occasion? You calling to congratulate me? I've gotten several thank you notes in the mail these past few days—I'm famous!" A voice considerably younger than Tony expected chirped.

"You are an absolute fucking idiot that's going to get me killed," Weasel snarled back. "Do you know who just walked into my bar?"

"Kesha!"

"Tony Stark, you fucking crazy bitch," Weasel hissed. "Your little stunt on your last mark brought Zeus himself down on my ass. Now you have to get your ass down here and fix it before I strangle you."

The voice's jovial tone dipped into something black and sharp. "Careful, Jackie. You wouldn't want two demons on your ass, now would you?"

A falter, then Weasel seemed to shake it off and said, "Just get down here before I throw away all of your Gushers."

"Not my fruit snacks! You monster!"

Tony's nose scrunched up in reproach. This was the man who'd defaced his building? Well, from the sound of it, the 'man' was a boy who wasn't really all there. Not that the knowledge softened Tony's ire in the slightest.

His bracelet pinged with a location. Tony grinned, shark-like, and let his armor slough over him once more. From there, it wasn't hard to launch up and over the few streets to where the signal was originating from. Sure enough, a brief scan of the alley displayed a man with all his organs neatly arranged outside his body on the dirty concrete. A small figure was crawling along the wall of one of the buildings, away from the scene. It was a full body suit made of black spandex, which left little to the imagination. The same blood red spider symbol that had been printed on the card marred both the back and the chest of the suit. The Spider.

Bingo.

Tony dove down towards the alley and fired off a repulsor blast just in front of the figure. Recoiling back from the blast, two slim lenses of red snapped over to glare at him. Tony slid to a smooth stop just before the Spider and hummed as the merc tipped his head at him. "Hi there, Muffet. I don't think we've formally met."

The lenses flickered at him as the Spider leaned back to lounge easily on the wall. "Nope, can't say we have. But what is formality, really? It's an outrageous concept when you think about it. After all," Here, the Spider leaned forward and his mask stretched like he was smiling beneath it. "If formal was wearing a codfish on your head, would you wear it?"

The casual reference to Alice in Wonderland reignited Tony's fury at the message left on his tower. It was obviously meant as a dig. He raised his hand to fire off another repulsor blast right at the Spider's face, but instead of looking scared, the brat just draped an arm dramatically over his face like a fainting maiden.

"Oh my, mister, please don't shoot me," He bemoaned in a theatrical southern bell impression. He fanned his mask with his other hand, only held up by his feet as he swooned. "I don't think I could take you teasing me so."

Before Tony could disperse the cloud of confusion the Spider's rambling had incited, the brat flipped off the wall and onto Tony's shoulders. One hand keeping his balance, the other reached between the shoulder slats and wrenched out a handful of wires. The suit guttered.

"Oops! Hope you didn't need those," the Spider sang as he backflipped off Tony and onto the nearest roof. The suit quickly made up for the lost tech, but it was enough of a stall for the Spider to vanish, "It hasn't been a pleasure, Stark! Buh-bye!" Called over his shoulder.

•🕸️•

Tony was infuriated.

He was known as the unbeatable, the untouchable, the one not to be outwitted. He was Tony fucking Stark.

And yet in his first altercation with what had to be a middle level threat, he hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, much less actually make a move. It tore at his pride until he became obsessed, tearing through archives and sending scans through voice recognition for something—something that would give him leverage.

Which he shouldn't have even fucking needed in the first place.

But no, there was nothing. Nothing but the memory of a glittery voice laughing in his ear, the stretch of black spandex over distinctive muscle that made Tony take more bedpartners than normal, growling angry obscenities into the sheets as he took everything out on his conquests—both his rage, and his lust. It left them bruised and limping away from him after, a spooked look in their eyes. It just made Tony angrier.

Three days ticked by with nothing. Then, just when Tony was fully ready to go blast Sister Margaret's into next week, about to take off towards New York, an encrypted email pinged into his inbox. It was an address.

'Do not tell him I gave this to you. If you can't kill him, then I don't want him coming after me. Frankly, I'm more scared of him than I am of you. I just don't want you nuking my bar.

—W'

Tony bared his teeth in a savage grin, triumph blooming hot in his chest. The slight niggle of indignance in the back of his mind—the brat was hardly more intimidating than him—went ignored. Address loaded into his suit, he shot off towards Queens.

•🕸️•

The side of the building exploded beneath the force of the blast Tony directed at it. He flew forward and could have laughed in delight when the sound of a familiar voice cursing reached his ears. The dust began to clear as Tony ventured confidently into the rubble. A rough bout of coughing drew Tony's eye towards the far wall, which had collapsed on top of a waifish figure that was struggling to pull themselves up.

Wild brown eyes snapped up to glare at him, plush lips twisted into a snarl that bared actual fangs. "You bastard," That same shimmering voice rasped, scraped raw with pain. "You destroyed my lab!"

"You hung a dead guy from my tower," Tony replied as he made his way forward, head tipped to the side curiously.

"Oh don't tell me you're mad that I killed one of your chairmen." Doe eyes rolled as the kid shook out the dust from his curls. He had freckles. Tony drew his tongue across his bottom lip, intent. "I doubt you have actual emotions as it is. You didn't even know he worked for you, I bet," He said daringly as he twisted to try and push the wall off of him.

"You smeared viscera all over my name. Literally," Tony growled as he stalked even closer.

"If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't actually about you," the Spider drawled as he began to heft the wall up with the barest of strains. A mutant.

It decidedly did not.

Tony raised an arm and fired off a slip of liquid metal. It landed on the piece of wall the Spider was levering and quickly forced it back down. He wheezed as the full force of Stark tech crushed back into his chest. Tony stopped to look over the pinned bug, brow raised. He leaned down to better take in the amber shine of narrowed eyes, the sprinkle of freckles across a button nose, the endearing tangle of coffee curls draped over dark spider-leg lashes. He took in the sharpness of those bared fangs, then admired the petal pink softness of those lips. Tony wondered if he defanged the little pest, if they would grow back. More relevantly, how quickly would they grow back, and if he could fit his cock between those lips in the recovery time.

He leaned down even further. "Did you really think that you could get away with defaming me?"

A wide, broken glass grin cut up at him. "What're you gonna do, big man? You gonna toss me off a building? Threaten my loved ones? I don't have any!"

Just then, JARVIS chimed in his ear, "Facial recognition scan complete, sir. The Spider's true identity is one Peter Benjamin Parker."

"Peter Parker, huh?" Tony mused with a grin. The feral amusement slid off the Spider's face, and he went pale. "Let's call your bluff, Spidey. Any extended family, J?"

"All deceased, sir. But records display what appears to be a close friend of Parker's: Harry Osborn."

Tony smirked, "Is that so?"

He expected Parker to blanch further, maybe even make a bid for his friend's life, but to his surprise, Parker just tossed his head back and laughed, long and loud and unhinged. He gasped for air in between cackles, and Tony flicked his fingers in annoyance. The metal pressed the wall down harder, and Parker wheezed out a last delirious giggle. "You think I give a single shit about that piece of literal fucking human garbage? You're grasping at straws, Red Queen!"

Tony wasn't deterred. "I'd say something witty involving 'off with your head', but I've come to the realization that I don't actually want you dead," He mused as he propped his boot on the wall as well, just because he was feeling vindictive.

Parker raised an eyebrow, both wary and intrigued. It probably wasn't very often that people declared that they didn't want to kill him. He searched Tony's face with eyes that had lost their earlier giddy sheen. In their place were two hard shards of topaz, much more intelligent than the madness he'd observed before. "Then how do you want me, Executioner?"

"At my feet," Tony hissed as he fired a second slip of metal right at the kid's face. It was a sedative, one that worked instantly and wore off only when the tech was removed.

Parker was out like a light.

•🕸️•

However tempted he was to tie Parker to his bed, Tony wasn't an idiot. The casual strength the brat had displayed would hardly be the only mutation Parker had up his sleeve, and Tony didn't want his house trashed. So he tossed Parker into the cell he'd created to house the Hulk, then left to give himself a congratulatory glass of Scotch, leaving JARVIS with orders to notify him when Parker woke.

Tony poured himself three fingers of Scotch, feeling like he'd caught a wild panther. He had wrangled a wild animal into a cage, a collar ready to be fastened around its neck, but the challenge of taming the beast looming overhead left a tingle of thrill in his chest.

He wanted to break Parker, to weigh down his limbs until he could lift nothing heavier than a butterfly, to cut up his sharp tongue beyond repair, to pry out his fangs and carve away the stores of venom likely resting in his jaw until he was nothing more than a pretty bauble for Tony to admire.

(There was a small part of him—very, very small—that lamented that Peter would become disgustingly boring should he lose those things. That suggested that he cap the fangs instead of removing them, just to let Peter try to bite him, try to end him, and watch that sweet face blossom in rage when nothing came of it. Wanted to hear him curse and watch metal twist beneath those delicately small hands as he railed against Tony, oh so powerful and yet oh so his. Fashion a sign that read 'Beware of Spider' because a pet he wanted but a beast he'd gained. See those amber eyes burn up at him because that helpless rage was a thing of beauty. The part of him that acknowledged that part of Peter's appeal was that he was a beast, a monster, and Tony wanted to make him kneel.)

(Not that he would ever admit it.)

"Sir, Mr. Parker is awake." JARVIS intoned, a bit ruffled if Tony was reading that tone correctly.

"Awake and lively, I assume." Tony tossed back the rest of his drink and wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingers as he made his way back down to the cell.

JARVIS didn't answer, but he didn't need to. Tony came in sight of the cell just as he heard a loud bang echo down the hall. Peter had apparently thrown himself at the wall. They held up, of course. The brat may have super strength but he was no Hulk.

He stilled when Tony came closer, poised to leap again at the walls, fangs bared. Though the window into the room was mirrored, Peter's head snapped to the side and focused with startling accuracy on Tony. Slowly, he straightened out of his crouch and turned towards the mirror. His head tipped, puppy-like.

"Do you think you can hold me?" Came the soft inquiry with an innocent blink of those doe eyes.

"Yes, actually." Tony didn't bother with the microphone. The kid's senses were enhanced—he could probably pick out Tony's heartbeat through the four foot reinforced concrete. "I'm doing it right now."

"You're letting your technology do the holding for you," Peter spat back. "Because you know you aren't man enough to grapple with me face to face."

Tony's lips twitched. "Does goading usually get you what you want?"

Instead of getting angry, or denying the blatant manipulation tactic, Peter smirked at him, amused. "Yes, actually. Wes can't stand it."

The gleeful note to his voice made something in Tony's chest flicker. He drew his tongue along his bottom lip in thought, wondering. "So what are you, Peter Parker?"

He, of course, meant the mutations. He had never seen a mutant that could do what the Spider could do. He could stick to walls, he could spin actual webs, he could lift things easily ten times his own weight, not to mention his bite was most likely lethal. Almost all mutations manifested in a latent gene of some sort, one that had to be put under stress to become active. The gene was not all-encompassing. It gave one gift, and no matter how powerful, it was still only one. Peter had at least five.

But Peter didn't take it that way. He beamed at Tony through the glass and began to him to himself, swaying in place to a silent rhythm. "I am what happens when an angel falls from the sky. I am what happens when goodness realizes that good and evil do not truly exist. I am that one that dared to ask why a God sits on his throne, and lead a third of his children down into the chasm with me." He drew his arms sensually up his sides, cupped his throat, and ended with his hands tangled in his messy curls. He grinned at Tony, eyes half-lidded, taunting. "Do you think yourself a God, Stark?"

The conversation he'd had with Murdock rang in his ears like the high of a church bell. A damning, indisputable truth.

"No use thinking when I know," Tony drawled, heart thudding calmly in his chest. But Peter seemed to hear the flutter of his excitement anyway, known what he was thinking, because his grin widened.

"Mayhaps this was supposed to be the ultimate battle!" Peter tossed his arms high. He began to twirl across the room, light on his toes, humming erratically. "God versus Man! Or, well, it would have been, had poor Daredevil been up to the task. But alas, he fell to the temptation of sacrificial miracles—the taste of the rainbow! Let's call him Skittles from now on, yeah? But if Man won't kill God,"

Peter slung to a stop in front of the glass, a small palm smacked up against the glass, and it cracked. The Spider grinned, predatory.

"Then the Devil will do it."

Adrenaline flooded Tony's veins, made his teeth buzz in expectation—an urge to bite. "Are you forgetting Revelations?"

"Hardly," Peter trilled, ecstatic. "I don't need to win to ruin you, baby. I can the devastation to your reform! Besides, I like you much better than the other one. A Martyr. Please." His eyes rolled as his fingers scraped along the hairline fissures in the glass which had, until that moment, been bulletproof. "But you're not him. You're not Jesus—you're Judas. Ready to sell out the world for a few slips of paper that ultimately will amount to nothing. You are...pure greed," He breathed, enraptured even as his eyes darkened.

"And you think you can stop me? You're a child," Tony sneered, but it was a front for the surge of angry hunger that had roared to life in his chest. He ached with the need to press his fingers around that pale, flawless column of flesh and stain his mark upon it. Take that odd, rapturous insanity and breathe it into his lungs. Brand it back into Peter's skin with his mouth. Mine.

"I saw the way you looked at me, Stark. I can feel it right now," Peter sighed pleasantly as he continued to stroke his fingers down the glass. "The temptation that will allow me to strangle your empire from the inside out. Press my knives to your skin and snip it from the roots." He crooned.

"Oh please, baby," Tony purred. "We both know you don't actually give a shit about me taking over the world. You profit off other people's anger. You can't have the moral high ground. Your hands are covered in blood."

Peter slammed his hand into the glass again, hard, and the glass splintered. It pierced his skin, drew blood to paint its way down his wrist. He started humming again, louder. "Hmmm, you can't fix your broken promise, our ties have come undone; your lies fool no one. You can't offer your poison to me, in your kingdom of filth," He sang, high and eerie. He grinned, fangs bared. He leaned his head against the glass, pupils blown, and looked up at Tony through his lashes as he murmured, "You're just afraid to get your hands dirty."

"Oh but I don't need to," Tony breathed, giddy. "Not when I have you to do it for me." Without further ado, Tony spun on heel and began to stalk away, back turned on Peter's sudden snarl.

•🕸️•

When Tony pulled himself from beneath the rubble of his building three days later, the Spider's farewell still sparkling in his ears, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Forgot to tell you, I hid some bombs around here when I left Louie up there on your sign. My bad. Payback's a bitch, baby. But really, you could use some redecoration—far too much white. Red's more my color, for future reference, though I'm going to assume you knew that." The recording had mused, suit reaquired as black, clawed fingers toyed with the leather strip of red around his throat. He'd blown a kiss at the screen, the brat, and then the explosion behind him had cut out the feed.

Laughter rang from Tony's chest, light and toxic, and he turned his dusty face to the sky and grinned. A predator, a chase—a hunt.

"I'm going to fucking kill him."

#now feed me critism heaven #starker #superior iron man #the spider #superior starker #evil spiderman #my writing #refract

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cela-astral-projection · 4 years

Photo

It’s been a LONG time since I did any character creation.

Celeste. No last name.

Where do they live?: In a lovely, snug cabin in the woods, with Muriel and Inanna. Bit more structure and room than Muriel’s previous cottage.

Is your character considered plain, ugly, beautiful? Would the character agree with this assessment? How has this definition of their looks affected them?: She’s a very pretty woman. She knows it. It’s not something she thinks about often, except when it catches the attention of someone she’d rather it not.

Does your character lose a parent/caregiver?: So much of the past is wiped out. No parents have come forward post-plague. It’s sad in a general way, but it’s hard to miss something you’ve never really known.

Does something else happen that changes everything for him or her?: Being employed by the palace as a Magician.

How old is your character when this happens?: 27, but we’re a fair way up the road from that, now. She’s renounced her title in the palace and moved on to district Midwifery and Healing with her good friend, Julian.

How does this affect the character?: It throws her headlong into a mystery, adventure, and romance. It’s all very exciting, and horrifying and wonderful, but it really cements that she doesn’t belong out in the world fighting devils and demons...but she certainly will, if needs must.

Does his or her social status change during childhood? If it does, why does this happen and how does it affect the character?: Again, so much of her past is just gone that it would be impossible to tell. Pre-Plague, she did have many relationships with persons of all social standings.

What is your character’s relationship with his or her caregivers like?: The closest thing to a caregiver she has is Asra. And that’s...complicated. They are more than friends, more than family. He’s her soul mate, and she, literally, shares his heart.

Who does your character love most?: Muriel...and Asra. That’s just how it has to be. Thankfully, Muriel has similar sentiments regarding Asra, and they all work together beautifully. She also loves Julian in some small way, but he makes her very tired. He is an exasperating man. An attempt was made, but they work better as colleagues.

Is he or she popular?: No. She’s a grown-ass woman and doesn’t have time for “popularity”. She is well-loved by many and loves many.

What interests, hobbies, and sports does your character enjoy?: She loves cooking for her little “family” and friends. She gardens and tends her homestead. Enjoys learning and practicing practical magic. Not much for sports, but enjoys a good swim to release tension. She does dabble in whittling but knows it is not her area of expertise.

What is the character’s greatest fear?: Losing the memories she does have, and not being able to recover. Alternatively, losing Muriel or Asra. Asshole ghost-demon-goat-fuckfaces are right up there on the nightmare list.

Did your character complete his or her education?: Her magical education is ongoing. Never truly mastered. As far as a formal education...she used to work for a doctor. She isn’t uneducated. It’s funny, the things that stuck around, and the things that are missing forever.

What does your character do for a living?: Helps with the shop on occasion. On-call healer, herbalist, and midwife working in conjunction with Julian’s clinic.

What goals does your character have?: She has everything she truly needs and her wants are few. She does toy with the idea of becoming a full-fledged doctor, but the science of it doesn’t mesh with what she knows of magic, and hasn’t been able to strike a balance. She wants to grow her family, eventually. She’s apprehensive because of the turmoil they’ve had to overcome to get to a place of relative normalcy to truly commit to the idea of marriage and children and doesn’t know how that would work with her current relationship dynamic.

Is your character in a relationship?: Yes. A couple, actually.

How many times has he or she been ‘in love’? How have these people influenced the character?: Twice. Asra is her first love and they have a symbiotic relationship. They need each other to thrive. He’s her teacher, her savior, and her closest friend in the world. They are in love with each other. He is within her and courses through her veins. But, Muriel is where she finds her peace and makes her home. He is her joy and vice versa. She thinks it’s because Asra tended to Muriel’s heart first. Now, they all complete each other.

How do they see the world?: There is good in the world, but she’s seen such unspeakable evil and corruption that she isn’t naive. Very practical, and quite guarded.

Is your character independent?: Not as independent as she feels she might once have been. She understands the importance of having a support structure and makes it a point to truly cultivate and tend to relationships that make her a stronger person, and to know who is worth sharing her energy with.

Does he or she live alone or with somebody?: She lives with Muriel. Asra stays with them frequently, and they have plenty of soft places for friends to fall...when Muriel can stand the extra company.

Does your character have children?: No. Maybe, someday.

What is your character’s favorite quotation?: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.

Does he or she have a motto?: Follow your heart, but take your brain with you.

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thefinalexperiment · 4 years

Text

The Final Experiment Chapter 28: James Buchanan Barnes

Peter Parker x OC

A/N: So I just wanted to preface by saying this chapter is fairly intense. Not necessarily violent, but just a bit more intense than an average chapter. The italics are flashbacks, any dialogue in the flashbacks is in Russian. It was way too much to run through Google translate lol. Hopefully you will enjoy getting some answers about Kait and Bucky's history together!

P.S.

This is the longest part I've ever written, at almost 3,000 words, so celebration time for a new record!

I will no longer be linking things on new part posts due to dumblr and the link censoring, and just to be safe from any potential image post censoring, I will also not be including covers on my stories. All previous parts can be found in my masterlist, in my bio!

Warnings: This part contains a brief description of a knife wound, imminent danger to a child, and generally more intense themes than previous parts

---

When we arrived back at the tower, the medical alarms on the transportable equipment they’d hooked Bucky up to began blaring and beeping like crazy. I jumped to my feet before we had fully touched down.

“What’s going on?” Natasha demanded as the exit ramp lowered.

“He’s lost too much blood,” one of the medics said, unfolding the wheeled legs of the gurney. “He’s gonna need a major transfusion, ASAP.”

“We’re the same blood type,” I said quickly. I reached to peel my gloves off, but Natasha stopped me with a gentle touch to my shoulder.

“Kaitlynn…” she said softly, “You can’t. You’d risk infecting him with the Ainterbach symbiote…”

My heart was pounding so hard I feared my chest was going to burst, Alien style.

“But…”

The medics clicked the gurney into place and began to wheel my father away.

“Don’t worry, Kait,” Steve said, unbuckling the top part of his Captain America suit as he moved to follow them. “Buck and I are the same type too, and the super soldier serum will help him heal. We have plenty of backup CCs on base for this exact occasion in case he needs more.”

With that, he was gone, headed off to the medbay.

What had just happened? It felt like the world was on fast-forward while my brain was in slow motion. Normally, my mind was ten steps ahead of everyone, but right now, I was dumbfounded and frozen.

“Hey, Kait,” someone said, trying to get my attention. I couldn’t tell who. There was a gentle tug on my arm, guiding me inside, sitting me down. “Kait, look at me…”

I was so lost in my own head, I wasn’t even aware of who was talking to me, much less where to look at them.

“Kaitlynn, you’re making it snow…”

I snapped out of my stupor at that, suddenly glancing around. Sure enough, flurries of snowflakes fluttered around my head. Natasha’s hand cupped my chin, obviously trying to get me to focus. Wait, what?

“You’re touching me,” I whispered. “You’re touching me and you’re okay…”

She paused, as if just realizing it herself.

“I am…”

I laughed, and, for the first time in over a year and a half, I willingly and joyfully wrapped my arms around her in a hug. She held me close, and I wondered if this was what a motherly embrace was meant to feel like. Suddenly, I pulled back, thinking of something.

“But I don’t understand,” I said, “What’s changed?”

Natasha shrugged.

“I think you have,” she offered. “This is the most vulnerable and open you’ve ever been… these past few days, with all that’s happened and everything that’s come to light… It’d be a lot for anyone to handle. I’d say you’ve taken it all pretty well in stride. Maybe the more you learn to control your emotions - control, not suppress - the more you can control your powers.”

I nodded slowly. That made sense. I let out a deep breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.

“It’s just… it’s all so crazy. Yesterday, I wanted to kill Bucky, and today, I--” I paused. “Oh m… I… I called him dad…”

Natasha laughed softly.

“Well I wasn’t gonna mention it, but yes, you did.”

“That… that was like, instinct…” I frowned. “It wasn’t just a slip… It was… familiar.”

“Maybe you should take a look at those video files,” Nat said. “It might have some of the answers you’re looking for.”

“Maybe… we should take a look at them…” I suggested softly. I looked up at her, and we held each other’s gaze for a moment.

Then, she nodded.

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

She nodded again, then stood.

“Alright then. Let’s see what’s on that flashdrive.”

---

I plugged the flash drive into the meeting room hub, and the hologram flickered to life. Natasha flicked through a few options until she found the files we were after.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“No,” I said honestly, “But it has to be done.”

Natasha nodded, then pressed play on the file. On the hologram screen, a scientist addressed the camera in Russian.

“Winter Soldier and Child, Entry Number One. Today, we will introduce the Asset to the Offspring, age nine. The Asset was recently wiped and reprogrammed, no orders given yet. The Offspring has been given the most basic and rudimentary conditioning. This test will determine the strength of the Asset’s paternal bond. We wish to see if he will behave differently around her of his own accord. If not, we will inform him that we created her from him, and that he is to train her so as to one day surpass his skill. Should either of these yield a reaction, the wipe and reprogram process will need further adjustment to remove emotional connection or weakness.”

The screen switched to security footage from the compound. I held my breath when I saw my younger self on the screen. She obediently sat on a chair, opposite the complacent Winter Soldier, who looked to be awaiting a command of some kind. Her hair was lighter than I ever remembered mine being when I was normal… it must have darkened with age. I know that happens sometimes.

“Soldier,” said one of the… the trainers, I suppose you could call them. “This is your new charge. Say hello.”

It was clear that the last bit was a joke. The Soldier glanced at the little girl, who stared right back. She looked him in the eye, unafraid. Or maybe it was her assassin genes showing, telling her not to back down, to never show fear or weakness… To always be the one to challenge. But, oddly enough, her gaze held no challenge. She was not passive either, however. More… expectant. She was watching the Soldier, as if waiting on him.

The Soldier watched her in return. For a while, it seemed he might simply continue to regard her passively, but, after a moment, his face twitched ever-so-slightly into a frown. His expression was dazed, as if he was registering something off. It wasn’t clear if his hesitation came from the fact that he’d just been told he, a lethal killer, was now in charge of a child… Or if, perhaps, because he sensed she was more than just a child.

The scientist off to the side wrote something on his clipboard, then asked, “Is something wrong, Soldier?”

The Soldier let his face relax back into neutral and shook his head, almost imperceptibly.

“Very good… Now, before you begin with training her, I want to ask you, how do you feel, knowing that this is your child, Soldier?”

The creak of the grinding plates in his arm echoed through the room. Now, the expression written on his face was unmistakable. No longer was he a blank slate. His eyes were alight with a simmering fire. This was James Buchanan Barnes breaking through, even if not fully. Still, the Soldier did not speak. His dark gaze fixed on the scientist, then the guards, then the child, who had never stopped watching him. It was as if he were trying to calculate whether or not he could take them all and get her out safely…

“Enough of this,” the scientist said, “Time for reconditioning.”

The first file clicked off. I hadn’t realized I was trembling, ever so slightly.

“We don’t have to watch these all today,” Natasha said.

“No,” I said almost instantly. “I have to know. I have to remember…”

Nat sighed, but switched it over to the next file. It was that scientist again.

“Winter Soldier and Child, Entry Number Two. The Asset shows particular weakness when it comes to the Offspring. The programming lasts longer with each new method, but upon training her, he begins to slip. The Offspring, however, is beginning to become inquisitive. Memory wipe may be needed in the future. Cryofreeze will be utilized when the Soldier needed for a mission or is put in storage with no other trainer available. Other methods may be needed to bring the Offspring to a more lethal level than the Asset. This month, we shall attempt to spur further progress by utilizing the Asset’s weakness.”

I knew my childhood had been wiped away, but hearing it suggested so casually was much more jarring than I had thought it would be.

The Soldier was training the girl to fight. Trying to, anyways. Nine year olds aren’t exactly known for outstanding motor skills. Though this girl was obviously smarter than any other her age, she was still having difficulties mastering the physical aspects of it. More than a few times, a hit from the Soldier sent her sprawling. He stood menacingly, waiting for her to get to her feet.

“Do not let her get up, Soldier!” a guard barked. “If she cannot defend herself, she must pay the price!”

The Soldier’s jaw clenched, but other than that, he didn’t react.

“Enough,” the scientist scoffed in disgust, “He is weak! Take her to the Foreman.”

For the first time, The little girl’s expression changed. Her eyes widened, and she reached out for the Soldier.

“No, Soldier, please, do not let them!” she cried.

The Soldier made a move to go to her, but a quick reprimand, and several guns pointed at him held him back as she was dragged away.

The Foreman… The sound of that name sent icy fear into me, even though I didn’t know why. In this next tape, the scientist had aged… It seemed a few years had passed since the last entry.

“Winter Soldier and Child, Entry Number Three. The Asset was placed on cryofreeze for three years until better programming could be developed. His connection to the Offspring is becoming a problem. The Offspring has been trained by the Foreman in the Asset’s absence. It is time to test her against the Asset once more, to see where improvements can be made.”

The fight between them was much more lethal than in the previous entries. Now three years older and with far more training, she lasted far longer in each bout against the Soldier. At least, until the trainers insisted on testing her weapons proficiency.

By the way she moved, the girl was no stranger to knives. But against the Soldier, she was like a kitten chasing a string. She managed to plunge her knife into his bicep, but he used this to his advantage and pulled her off balance. With this one false move, the Soldier sliced a wound from the outer side of her right collarbone, curving to the top of her sternum. She cried out and released the knife from her right hand, exactly as the Soldier had intended.

But then, the Soldier did something no one expected. He dropped his own knife and pressed his flesh hand over her deep cut.

The scientist was heard cursing in the background, and a guard growled, “Back away, Soldier, let the medics through to check.” He muttered under his breath to the scientist, “It’s probably not even bad enough to need to stop…”

Other guards with guns closed in, but the Soldier growled out, “No.”

The tension was electric.

“What?”

“I said no. I will take care of her. She should be shown how to care for herself should an emergency occur on a mission, yes?”

There was a heavy silence. Then…

“Very well. Take her to your quarters. Just get it over with quickly.”

I rubbed at that curved scar… My fake-parents had told me all my scars were from surgery, that I had been a very sickly baby… but that one, they said I had fallen from a playground set as a toddler. I suppose not everything could be explained away by surgery. There was only one video file left. This would hopefully hold the answer to how mine and Bucky’s story together ended… But undoubtedly, it would still leave me with many questions.

“Winter Soldier and Child, Entry Number Four, Final Entry. Winter Soldier and Child project has failed. The Asset recalled details of personal life, and disclosed his fathership to the Offspring. The science division has developed a dark parasite… Tests are very promising. The Offspring and the Asset with both be wiped and reset. The Offspring will be relocated to America for the new project. The Asset will be placed back into cryofreeze and shipped to the new leader of HYDRA in a separate region of America. The wipe of the Offspring will be observed for data purposes on both the Asset and the Offspring. While the Offspring has never been wiped before, she has seen the Asset wiped, and she will know what is coming. The results should be intriguing.”

The Soldier and the girl were both led into a room with a menacing looking chair. Evidently neither of them had known this was coming. The girl’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t disguise her concern, on behalf of what she apparently thought only the Soldier would be undergoing. The Soldier growled and struggled against his guards. It was evident how much of his programming had worn off. He was much more mouthy now.

“Not again! You can’t take me away again!”

“I’m afraid you don’t have any say in the matter,” said a technician. “But don’t worry, you’ll have enough time to prepare yourself… The girl is first.”

The Soldier seemed to have had all the air knocked from his lungs. The girl’s expression morphed from concern to fear.

“You won’t touch her!” the Soldier shouted. He managed to send two guards flying into the wall with a sickening CRACK, fighting to reach the girl.

“Dad!” she cried, struggling against the guards dragging her towards the chair. She elbowed one in the throat, and kicked the other in the groin, making a break for the Soldier. He reached for her, too, and managed to grasp her by the shoulders long enough to whisper something to her before the guards tore them apart once more, more than happy to use the blunt ends of their weapons.

The Soldier fell to his knees when the guards zapped him with what looked to be cattle prods. Not the two he had thrown, they looked pretty dead. Other guards forced the girl into the chair and restrained her, forcing the bite guard between her teeth.

“You can remember, sweetheart!” the Soldier shouted as the contraption lowered around her head, “I know you can! My name is James Buchanan Barnes! I’m your father!”

One of the guards around him slammed the butt of a gun into his jaw, then forced him to watch as the electricity turned on. The sound of the girl’s screams rang out across the room.

When the last file finished playing, I noticed a wetness on my cheeks. I don’t know when I started crying. I swiped at the tears.

“Are you okay?” Nat asked softly, rubbing my shoulder.

“Not really,” I said honestly. “That was… really intense.”

“Did… anything come back?” she asked tentatively.

“Sort of… but mostly no,” I said with a sigh. “But I have a feeling I can predict the greatest hits reel for tonight’s nightmare. At least I might recover some memories from that…”

The sympathetic look on her face didn’t irritate me, for once. Maybe because it wasn’t pity, but empathy.

“Well then you should try to rest now.” I went to protest, but she wouldn’t hear it. “If anything changes with Bucky, I promise, I will drag you out of bed myself to tell you.”

I sighed, but relented.

“Fine…” I headed for the door, but paused, glancing at Nat. “Is there something you wanted to ask? I mean, I know we’re gonna talk this whole thing with the videos out eventually, it just seems like there’s something you wanna know now.”

Natasha shrugged. “I know you said you don’t remember… But I was just wondering what Barnes whispered to you.”

I paused, thinking. I don’t know how I knew, but I did.

“He… he said… ‘No matter what happens… I love you’…”

Wrapping my arms around myself awkwardly, I inched towards the door again.

“I’ll see you later, Nat…”

She nodded. “Go rest up, kiddo… Heaven knows you need it.”

After everything I just saw? I definitely agreed.

---

A/N: Things are beginning to come to light... I think the next chapter will be fun to write. What did you think of this chapter? Let me know in the comments below!

Series Tags: @shamvictoria11 @mla02 @fanficcrapforme @goodbyefornow123 @thebookisbtr @what-inspirational-name

Everything Tags: @coconutknees @hollymac79 @jordan-ia @ace-marvel-chick

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kitcat992 · 5 years

Text

Identity Crisis | Chapter 3: Grounded

“Beginning clinical trial 10.F—G in three...two...one...”

The liquid dropped from its contained, secured case the moment the buzzer went off, the sound piercing and sharp. The feel of it always got to him; dense, thick, slimy, and somehow worse than all the times that came before. Like a raindrop, it hit the back of his hand with a pluck.

It was hot.

It was always hot, burning against his skin, sizzling at the touch. He had lost count of the chemical burns that scattered along his body, scars that told stories of the many attempts he endured in the pursuit of health. Life. A chance.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. No, never in the battery of tests he subjected himself to was it ever lost on him. He was destroying his body in the attempt to heal it.

It wasn’t ideal, and certainly not his first choice in the grand scheme of things. But they didn’t have time — he didn’t have time. There was no animal testing or research studies that could be done before reaching him.

Not if he wanted a chance.

So he closed his eyes, tight. Tight enough to feel the muscles in his face twitch and scream and beg for the release that he wouldn’t give until he heard the word ‘success’. He held his breath and bit his tongue through the searing pain that spread across his skin, rendering his fingers numb and his wrist rigid with immobility, all as he waited.

It always felt like an eternity. He would often think of Emily in these times. Deep, mahogany hair that countered her smile of pure sunshine, one he’d still picture every night before going to sleep, accompanied with the purest, brightest blue eyes he’d ever witnessed before. Even now, decades after becoming nothing more than a memory to him, she kept him calm. As long as he had her memory —

“Host organism Symbiote cytoplasm results produce...another failure for organisms protoplasmic material in binding with subject.” The voice, albeit calm, professional and tame, was nails on a chalkboard to his ears. “The changes formulated to the cell structure from clinical trials 9.E—G appear to be unsuccessful.”

His eyes stayed closed, though the pressure on his eyelids lessened greatly. He could feel the burning begin to fade on his hand, the tell-tale sign that the liquid had dropped off, running down and off his skin like water in the shower. It would fall down into a drain placed beneath his feet, where the earth shattering disappointment made it feel like his legs had wavered despite the ground staying still.

His heart beat heavily and he fought to control the emotion, taking in three deep breaths to remain composed. Each lifted his chest high, pulled his shoulders back taunt. He kept those blue eyes in his mind, fighting to remember exactly what shade they were. Always close to sky blue, but never quiet so pale. Vivid, like ice.

“How would you like to proceed, Mr. Osborn?”

And with that, he opened his eyes to the world around him, no longer able to stay in the memory of a better time and place, a memory of warmth and content. His environment was sterile and cold, a lot like the expression he wore on his face. Because if twenty-eight years of owning and running his own business had taught him anything, it was to never show weakness.

“You are...highly credentialed, Doctor Frye.” Norman grabbed the towel offered to him by one of the many scientists standing nearby, slowly but confidently wiping his hands with it. “I have the upmost faith that you will figure it out.”

The towel was damp, saturated with a cooling gel to ease the burns that blistered on his skin. He smeared it generously across the back of his hand, stepping down cautiously from the platform where he stood. The other techs began to scatter, leaving all but one white-coated doctor standing amidst the departing crowd.

“Sir, with all due respect,” Doctor Frye started, “I have been surveying the progress on this project since day one. And since we’ve discovered that this Symbiote bio-structure won’t bond without the DNA markers of it’s original conception, you continue to try and change the cell nucleus of the genetic make-up with no success.”

Norman approached him with long strides, confident steps that spoke more than his words ever could. He cocked an eyebrow high in the air and discarded the towel to the side.

Doctor Frye held his tablet firmly in his grip as he continued, “This is the tenth failure, and the tenth time my team has played God to the membrane of an organism that cannot thrive without the mutation markers of its birth host.”

“And as we are both aware,” Norman was quick to respond, his tone smooth yet firm, “the birth host perished two years ago with an autopsy report that showed no remaining embryo fluid in the sack. Is that a fact you fail to recall or do you simply prefer that I remind you the cause behind our perennial struggles?”

There was something unique in Doctor Frye that Norman respected. For starters, the man was never afraid to stand up to him, talk science with him, throw equations back and forth. He had intense grit, a dedication to his craft, dare he say an unhealthy need to be present at the job at all times. It played greatly in his favor, the unfortunate passing of Frye’s wife, leading him to divulge all his time into his work. It kept the good doctor focusing on the cure Norman so desperately needed.

“That spider was our last chance at finding success with this project, Mr. Osborn,” he reminded, his voice going so far as to pitch with unnerve. “Without injecting the mutated cells directly into your bloodstream, there’s no way this Symbiote bio-suit will bind to your genetic DNA. It requires the mutated markers of that radioactive spider.”

As the doctor spoke, Norman began to roll down the sleeves to his white button-down, taking care in buttoning the cuffs back together on each arm. He never once looked down during the task, keeping his eyes focused intently on Frye, frowning a bit as he digested what was said.

“Your vacillation is disconcerting to hear, doctor. It seems you’ve forgotten that sitting beneath my entrepreneur credentials lays a scientific genius with doctoral degrees in chemistry and electrical engineering. So when I say this can be done, I say it with more than just words,” Norman’s words were even, clinical, nearly emotionless. “I say it with the knowledge and ingenuity to substantiate the matter.”

Aggravated, Doctor Frye shook his head with animated exaggeration, spinning around as Norman began to walk past him.

“You aren’t listening. You don’t — !”

Norman calmly turned to face him, so close that it physically startled the doctor, his muscles so tense it showed in his lips.

“This Symbiote is a living organism. And like all living organisms, you can work with its biology,” Norman insisted, his tensely knitted eyebrows the closest thing he had shown to frustration so far. “I would advise that you not allow any defeats to keep you from pushing forward onward to success.”

Deliberate to linger on a hard stare that created a sheen of sweat across Doctor Frye’s forehead, Norman gave a curt nod when the time felt right. Only then did he walk passed the man, careful to avoid bumping shoulders.

He made it to the door before a voice was heard again. It wasn’t unexpected. Norman would have paused there in anticipation regardless of what sound came his way; the doctor had grit, after all.

“You have to give me clarification here, Mr. Osborn. Why can’t you lend my team the formula for the OZ Experiment Arachnid No. 00? We’ll create it from scratch, we’ll give the Symbiote the DNA markers it requires to bind and latch onto it’s subject matter,” he paused for a beat, his throat constricting as he stressed, “You, sir.”

There was enough hesitation from Norman to make it seem like he had been pondering up a response. In reality, he had one ready to go long before the man had ever asked the question. It was a sore subject. It had become the bane of his existence. The loss of all his files, the OZ formula, the records of the arachnid experiment from years ago that could easily save his life — gone. And why?

“Because, Doctor Frye,” Norman said, swiping his badge to gain access out of the laboratory, “those records were recently loss in a very unfortunate...water-logging incident. Now carry on. I expect progress by the morning.”

The heavy weight of the door closed loudly behind him, an echo that shot through the air. Norman was walking down the halls before it had even slammed shut.

— — —

Can I just say...I’m really going to enjoy writing this character?

(¬‿¬)

#fanfiction #marvel #mcu #irondad #spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #peter whump #whump #venom #symbiote #norman osborn #if the MCU isn't going to provide a good series of stories #then goddamn it I'll do it myself

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elaeomyxa · 5 years

Note

pen emoji (i don’t feel like finding it) abt any of your ocs

(Thank you for sending this even though I've literally never mentioned any of them dkalhfhafskghd)

Ok so Sasha

Her whole gist is she finds Nix in the middle of a fight with a Nightmare in a forest, and ends up saving him. She brings him back to her house because she has the best judgment on what to do with unconscious people who are bleeding out after fighting a monster you never knew existed (/s). She, obviously, begins panicking about having his dead body in her tub until said dead body pulls her out of it, perfectly fine.

She, understandably is like "what the fuck" and Nix, being a Master of Human Emotion is like "oh I'm not human haha wanna come work with me?"

(In reality it's more along the lines of "hey ain't it weird how you can see those dream creatures? Also since you're not associated with us we'll have to wipe your memory of this whole event if you don't join ¯\_(ツ)_/¯")

She ends up joining them, shenanigans ensue, she makes a bunch of friends with her mission group, she gets kidnapped after making a deal with a demon, the whole shebang

Basically what the company (Somn inc., "where dreams come true!") is is just a bunch of people who enter the mindscapes of those plagued by dream creatures to help them sleep peacefully

Most employees are not human, and humans are actually looked down upon because they often have less dream abilities, or none at all.

The company has a whole thing about never showing identities, something about how imagination holds a lot of power with those who have stronger dream abilities can will things into existence, but only if they actually know someone's true form (kinda death note logic)

So they use codenames and never reveal their species

So they go through training, and on their first real mission, Sasha gets badly hurt, and her identity is revealed.

If you remember what I said earlier, humans aren't the most accepted group in this company, or really overall over the groups of sentient folk

So she ends up more or less ostracized by the group, with them talking about how her being human led to her getting hurt, and even saying she should leave if she knew what was best for her.

So now let's backtrack for a sec

Ever since her seventeenth birthday, she's been having strange dreams

She'd find herself in a field of purple flowers, under an endless sky

Ever since she joined the company, she's been seeing a figure on the horizon

Each night she finds herself closer and closer, yet never able to reach it

Now back to when she's just been outed as human

She goes to sleep that night to find the figure right next to her, offering to make her a deal

The figure says that they can make her more powerful, or worthy or whatever

Sasha accepts, and oops! The figure takes control of her body and runs off to the dream realm, a void between mindscapes filled with Nightmares

So Sasha goes missing, and the group is like "oh shit"

They end up going around where Sasha lives, setting up missing person posters and the likes, going door to door, where they meet enfys

I know this is just about one oc and that I'm making it about the whole story so here's some quick background on enfys

E is sort of a conspiracy theorist, e's real paranoid

So naturally when e find out eir friend (and long time crush) has gotten some weird part time job that she often comes back from beat up, e's real suspicious

So the whole time while Sasha was out learning dream stuff, enfys has been worrying eir ass off about her and trying to figure out what's happening

So when the crew comes to eir house with news that Sasha has mysteriously disappeared, refusing to give any more information other than vague answers, e's real suspicious

E ends up interrogating them and they spill the beans, so e ends up joining the search party for her, despite not being able to see dream creatures

So the crew goes on a quest, each having to deal with their complicated backgrounds in order to get in the right state of mind to enter the dream realm

So what's Sasha been doing the whole time? Well, the demon from her dreams (Zea) has been gathering an army of Nightmares to fight the leader of Somn inc

Throughout this she's basically trapped in a place separate from her mindscape, her consciousness, which is more or less the control room for the body

She's been trying to talk Zea down, and learns that her whole vendetta against Somn inc. is because the leader's careless for his workers lead to her father dying on a mission, and ever since she's been trying to gain power to take him down

So Sasha's like "wait you're telling me this corporation who more or less blackmailed me, a seventeen year old into working for them under dangerous situations, is bad? Wack."

So by the time the crew comes back and they have a Big Fight in the dream void area thing Sasha's like "okay everyone can't we just chill and take down a corrupt CEO together?"

The crew, having not been there for Zea's somewhat redemption are naturally like "okay what the fuck" and decide to try and get Zea out of control of Sasha's body

This ends up killing Zea and Sasha

They're all sad and stuff blah blah blah the end

...

Not really though

The story picks up with Sasha and Zea stuck in a void

Sasha's like "you know what? Fuck this."

And Zea's like "bruh I've been working my whole life can't I just give up now?"

And Sasha's like "this whole situation has led to us having to do this together, you got me into this so I'm gonna drag you out if the afterlife with me"

And so Sasha, through sheer willpower (which makes sense because ghosts are formed from the dead refusing to be dead) yoinks them outta the afterlife as ghosts

So. Backtracking again, remember enfys?

Turns out their paranoia kinda stems from them being a spirit medium and being able to see what no one else can, yadda yadda yadda

So enfys has kinda cut emself off from the group, blaming them (but secretly emself too) for Sasha's death

E's like mourning and stuff when e sees Sasha's ghost and is like "what the fuck"

Then e sees Sasha brought Zea's ghost and is like "What The Fuck"

So it's a whole thing where e tries to prove Sasha still Kinda being there to the group

The think e's making it up, or having grief-driven delusions

So enfys goes to Sasha's mom and holds a spirit channeling session or something

So Sasha's mom often has to be away on work trips due to being a single mom, so she's real guilt filled for not spending more time with her

So her mom ends up talking about Sasha's father- who she's never mentioned before- and it turns out he's not human

A demon to be specific, who had to leave her because his job was too dangerous

Huh

So Zea's like "hold up. Describe him."

Enfys is like "what are you doing?"

And Zea's like "shut up, describe him."

Turns out Sasha and Zea share a dad

I don't have the whole thing planned out but the group reunites and they end up taking down the corrupt company, the Nightmares, as it turns out, aren't really that bad and used to have a peaceful symbiotic relationship with humans, they end up returning to how it was, all that jazz, enfys ends up dating a ghost

So now stuff about Sasha in general!

She's a trans gal

She and enfys have been childhood friends, and she's actually been crushing on em for a while

She's latina

At the beginning she's actually kinda naive, which leads to the whole "making a deal with a random demon" thing, and by the end she's still trusting, but not to a fault

She's actually really resourceful, and can talk her way out of many situations

She's just. Neat.

She's also kinda the backbone of the whole team

She's really a lot more useful than she gives herself credit for

#jeez this just ended up being a recap of the story huh #long post #also this would be a lot longer if i didn't limit myself to mainly talking about her #'cause i have lots to say about this story lol

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hauntedfalcon · 6 years

Text

fic: if I was born as a blackthorn tree

1300 words of Dr. Skirth bonding with the blue symbiote. Mega thanks to @roguewen for looking it over.

The scanners are off in the room where Drake leaves her to die. It is their only advantage.

The first question Dora asks the symbiote is, “Do you want to survive this?”

She feels its attention focus, its grip constrict. It has not been long enough in her mind to acquire the language, but yes, it wants. How it wants. A form of life, at any rate.

“Possum,” she says, and it takes the meaning from the image in her mind.

The pain folds her. She bends double and feels it seep past her fingers where they clutch her side. Her glasses slip off. She follows them to the floor.

When the door opens, the thread of symbiote still inside stops her heart and lungs.

“This is the higher life form,” Drake says above her.

He has no idea. The words aren’t hers but she clings to them. He has no idea. They drag her out of the room. He has no idea. They dump her in the woods with all the rest. He has no idea.

She rises when they are well gone, the symbiote soaking back into her. It offers her glasses, only a little smudged. An act of… if not strictly kindness, then regard for her. She is touched.

She takes a step, and her feet turn toward the compound.

Go back in, on our terms. She hesitates, a taste of metal at the back of her mouth. He left you for dead. No more fear--you have me.

“I am a better person--” she starts, but in her head the words twist into higher life form. She takes a deep breath. He can not be allowed to continue. She takes another step.

Wait, it says, and Dora does, her entire body paralyzed. She is wearing white in the woods, horribly exposed, but the child in the dark blue dress doesn’t seem to notice her. Perhaps she is sleepwalking; she moves on tired legs through the trees, toward the Foundation. Moonlight turns her hair silver. Dora’s first instinct, her human instinct, is to call out, but like a bad dream, her voice has shrunk to nothing.

Forget him, it says when the girl is gone.

“What happened to no more fear?”

Go home and hold your children.

That does sound nice. “What do I call you?” she asks as they sprint with the stamina of a wolf.

Why does it matter? There is a sour note to the voice. You only think of me as an “it”.

“Do you… have genders?”

Not that you would recognize.

“What about rank?”

Riot was the leader. The others were grunts. I… am a strategist.

Then they’ll get along fine. “Do you prefer Possum, or Blue?”

You’re the possum.

“Whatever you say, Blue.”

Her keys are in her coat, back at the Life Foundation, and she will never get them back. They scale the condo and slide the balcony door open. Her sister sleeps on the sofa, an unfinished brochure design before her. Dora closes her laptop and sets it on the coffee table, pulls the blanket over her.

The kids are asleep, her son with his covers all kicked off and her daughter sprawled sideways. Never, she thinks, remembering the girl in the woods all used up from the inside. Blue echoes, Never never never. She touches their hair, and then goes to stand in front of the fridge.

“What is it you need? Why didn’t the fluids keep the others alive?”

Live flesh, Blue grins at her.

“Bullshit.” Her own vehemence startles her. “Cravings indicate deficiencies. We can figure this out. Think.”

You produced it yourself. When you saw your children again.

“Sure, we all want more dopamine.” But which transmitter? Oxytocin? No, she’s past those days. On a hunch she goes to the pantry and gets her stash from the top shelf.

She keeps the good bars in an empty oatmeal box, out of her sister’s and her kids’ notice but without the indignity of hiding chocolate in her room. When she unwraps one and the scent hits, every cell of her stands at attention. Yes. Yesyesyesyesyesyes eat that eat it eatiteatit--

“Fucksake,” she says, mouth full.

Haaaaaa. Blue relaxes into her, tingling slightly. Dora starts to feel like this is a sustainable lifestyle, but that’s probably just the phenylethylamine talking.

She discards the ruin of the chocolate wrapper and wipes her face down with a dishrag. “That was expensive.”

Guests deserve the best. It’s a remarkable impression of her mother’s voice.

“One tile a day.”

Supplemented with heads.

“Pigeon heads.”

Fine.

Dora checks herself in the mirror over the sink. Her eyes are bloodshot, but she was technically murdered earlier so that seems fair. She holds the arm of her glasses, hovering on the edge of taking them off to see if she even needs them anymore, but wimps out.

Her face is flushed. She gets the thermometer. 99.5. “Can you get that down a notch?”

Take a nap and I’ll optimize everything. Her limbs grow heavy at once; the kitchen floor tempts her.

“I don’t want to be optimized, just… stable. Whatever comes next, I can’t be stuck in the bathroom when it happens.” The thing in the woods scared Blue, and if Drake has it they will know, and they will come for her.

But she does go to bed. She wakes before dawn and carries the kids, still in their pajamas, down to her sister’s Forester. She can lift both of them at once now. The car too, probably.

They find the northernmost branch of her credit union and wait until it opens, and her sister goes in with the power of attorney papers. Dora has sunglasses over her glasses and a floppy hat and a scarf and she slouches in the passenger seat in the parking lot, angled away from the security cameras. Her sister returns to the car with an entire zipper pouch of cash.

They drive up the One as far as the 101 and then turn east, and then north again at Eugene and on and on, stopping just south of the border because her sister doesn’t have a passport and Dora’s will surely be watched. Near Judy Reservoir she chooses a road at random and drives until she finds a For Sale By Owner sign at the end of a long driveway leading to an A-frame.

The kids warm up to the place. Her sister likes the quiet and focus. At night Dora takes long walks under abundant stars. The form she and Blue agree on is nine feet tall and thornbush thin. A hungry thing with claws as long as memory.

They bring home deer, field dressed and skinned, and her sister does not ask where or when she learned to hunt.

It isn’t until they go to the Mt. Vernon library so her sister can use the wi-fi to turn in her work that Dora finds out Drake is dead.

She sits for a long time with the front page in her hands. There is a sidebar on the class action settlement that is liquidating most of the Foundation, and she wonders if her old mailbox has a check in it right now.

“Are you the last?” she whispers.

Blue doesn’t answer, but Dora feels them yearning.

In order to look normal, even though no one is watching anymore, she turns to the Business page and pretends to read.

Look, Blue says, and Dora does. Wages up, benefits cut.

It’s barely an hour to Seattle. They can make it in forty minutes. She’s never tried but she feels it in the place where fear used to live and now there is only certainty.

The article includes a picture of the company’s CEO. He wants to get into space exploration, Blue purrs.

Until now, she’s always believed there was no such thing as ethical consumption. Dora folds the paper, and stands.

#Venom fanfic #Dora Skirth #what an absolute fucking delight this was to write

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tere706 · 5 years

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Love is Blind - Chpt 17

(Hey, see. Just needed to kick myself a few times. And the idea that I wouldn’t be able to post this chapter because of the log off phase 3... I don’t want to wait another week! So I bulled my way through this.

I want to thank everyone who has come with me on this journey. I’ve had so much fun writing this fic. I hope you have too. A lot of things changed during the writing of this idea, but the fundamental ending is basically the same as what I had imagined at the beginning.

There’s still a chance of me coming back with a sequel fic for this, but I do want to take a break from writing. I’ve got a lot going on this semester... and I have a bad habit of pressuring myself to get chapters written.

Anyways, enjoy the finale of Love is Blind!

Tagging: @inumorph, @dark-night-sky-99, @liadreyar-dragneel, @lunalustrix, @thirstyforvenom, @mltcp)

The realization of consciousness came slowly. It wasn’t any one moment of awareness, just a progressive understanding that she could distantly feel her body. Liz was fairly sure she should be grateful that her body felt so distant. Her head felt fuzzy too. She remained still, just processing what was going on around her while she tried to get her brain working.

Her breath was warm against her lips and nose, strangely so since the rest of her felt cool. And there was a pressure of something against her chin, cheeks, and nose. Something beeped off to her left, a rhythmic sound, and hushed voices came through walls. They were too soft to understand. It was the rhythmic beeping, a heart monitor, that caused her brain to drag up a location. Hospital. She was in a hospital. Why?

Liz gave a soft groan, breath rasping in her throat. It sent a sudden surge of pain through the cloud of pain medication. At least, she assumed that was why her brain felt like it was stuffed with wool and her body almost dislocated from her.

“Liz.” The voice was hoarse, carrying a hopeful desperation. The voice, Eddie’s voice, stirred her memories of why she was now in the hospital. Aaron. Fire. Venom and Eddie screaming. Pain.

“Eddie.” She managed to croak back at him, mostly so he would know that she was actually awake.

A chair scraped along the ground to her right as Eddie moved. “Hold on a second. I’ve got water for you.” He murmured and pulled the weight away from her mouth. The end of a plastic straw touched her lips and Liz was grateful that he wasn’t going to accidently dump half a cup of water on her. It wouldn’t have been his fault, everything was too fuzzy for her to try and coordinate herself. She sipped slowly, letting the cool water slide down her throat.

“Thanks.” Liz was pleased to find that it was a bit easier to talk now. “You both okay? What happened?”

Eddie chuckled as he sat back down in the chair. “You’ve got your priorities. V and I are fine now. He’d be hovering protectively over you, but we’re in a hospital. They, uh, make us kind anxious. Bad experiences. Tell me what the last thing you remember and I’ll try to fill you in.” His voice was low and soft, meant to sound comforting. Liz had to blink back tears of relief when he told her that both of them were alright.

“Aaron?” He’d been right that ‘both’ had meant him and Venom, but she still had some concern for the teen.

“I’ll get to him, answer the question.” Eddie said with a faint snort.

“I heard you hit the ground. Ven had screamed. I… I tried to grab Aaron. I wasn’t sure where he was, too many sounds all at once. Then… heat and pain.” Her voice grew softer as she spoke and Liz ended with a cough, throat feeling like she’d scraped it with sandpaper.

“Drink first.” Eddie placed the end of the straw back in her mouth so she could get some relief. “You got burned, Liz. It… it was bad.” He paused and pulled the straw away, setting the glass to the side to give himself a moment. “You scared us bad. We thought you were gonna die.” Eddie took a deep breath. “Aaron stopped freaking out and called an ambulance. He’s alive. Turned himself over to the police and explained what he was, at least tried to. I think they’re going to have him transferred to somewhere that can help him. We… uh, said we’d been attacked in the warehouse and that he’d helped drive off the attackers, but you were hurt. So, I think they’ll go lenient on him, accidents from his abilities.”

Liz smiled gently, her head tilted toward Eddie’s voice. “Thank you for that. I can’t imagine you like him much.”

“I don’t. But you do.” Eddie sighed. “So, we all made it out alive. You’re the worst off. You have a concussion, I’m assuming that’s from Aaron?” He paused long enough for Liz to give a slight nod. “Yeah. You have burns in your throat and lungs from hot air, but the doctor said those weren’t too bad. You had an oxygen mask on, if you’re curious. It’s your arms that took the most damage. What… what were you thinking, throwing yourself at Aaron?! You had to know he was wielding fire!” Eddie sounded like he was struggling to keep his voice from rising in anger and worry. He probably didn’t want a nurse poking their nose into the room yet.

“I couldn’t let him kill you, Eddie. I couldn’t lose you.” Liz swallowed hard, feeling the wave of remembered panic. “I didn’t know if Ven was even alive. I heard him scream in pain and I know fire can really hurt him. If I’d been brave enough to do something sooner, I… I couldn’t lose you too.”

Eddie’s fingers brushed gently against her cheeks, wiping away the tears that had slipped past her self-control. “I’m sorry you were put in that situation.” He whispered tenderly. “Do you want me to continue? Or do you want to rest?”

Liz smiled faintly and shook her head a little. “I feel kinda… fuzzy. Musta put me on the good pain meds. I think I can handle whatever you say without freaking out.” She had a feeling that she wouldn’t be so calm without those pain meds clouding her thinking. Maybe hearing it now would allow her to process it a bit before she was really able to think.

“Okay.” Eddie blew out a slow breath and stroked his thumb gently across her cheek. “You have third degrees burns. They had to do skin grafts on your left hand and part of your right arm. Second degree burns expand out from there. The doctor says you have a high probability of regaining full use of your left hand if you’re careful and go through physical therapy. They also have you on some antibiotics.”

She leaned her face slightly into his touch. “Wow. That sounds pretty awful. And like it would hurt a lot.”

Eddie couldn’t stop a surprised laugh from escaping him. “Yeah, that’s probably why you’re on the good stuff, hun.”

“I… I don’t wanna be alone, Eddie.” Liz whispered the words, feeling herself falling slowly down into the quiet again. She was just too tired to stay awake much longer.

“We’ll be right here. Both of us. We’re not going anywhere.”

The last thing she remembered before falling back asleep was the brush of Eddie’s lips against her forehead.

“The splint itches.” Liz gritted her teeth in frustration. She couldn’t move her left arm at all, it was still suspended up on a sling to keep the swelling down.

“Mmhm. Finish up your last hand stretch and I’ll feed you dinner.” Eddie didn’t sound nearly as sympathetic as Liz had wanted. To be fair, he’d been listening to her growl and grumble for the last four days as they weened her off the pain killers. She was still in the hospital. The doctors wanted to keep an eye on the worst of her burns, and they were concerned about her damaging the skin grafts.

Liz slowly spread the fingers of her right hand, which hadn’t been burned as badly. That one was ready for the start of physical therapy. It hurt, skin pulling tight. But she didn’t want to lose any mobility. Her hands were a large part of how she interacted with the world. The doctors had sounded positive around her getting full feeling back in the right hand. But the left… While she might get her range of motion back with lots of physical therapy, it was unlikely that she’d get full sensitivity back. There was too much damage to sensitive nerves. It only made her more determined to take care of her right hand, since it had better odds.

“There, done. I can’t wait to be able to feed and take care of myself again.” Liz’s voice turned wistful. Being unable to use her hands was degrading in so many ways. She might never enjoy bathrooms again.

Eddie chuckled and scraped a fork across a plate. “Open up, you can have the mushy hospital dinner now.”

Liz sighed and obediently opened her mouth, trying to swallow the bite with minimal tasting. “I miss fruit cups and chips. Real fruit cups, not that junk the nurse tried to offer me.”

“We’ll get you as much as you want once you get out of here.” Eddie promised. Liz felt a warm tendril from Venom slide under her head to help support it as Eddie offered another bite. The symbiote had been quite during the days spent in the hospital. Eddie couldn’t spend the night with her and it was dangerous for Venom to show himself. Still, Liz didn’t mind getting to share this time with Eddie. It was pleasantly normal. Despite the burns.

“Let’s make it a date. I’m holding you to it.” Liz quickly swallowed the next mouthful of mush.

Liz didn’t leave the hospital until two weeks later, when her right hand was deemed healed enough for use. It still needed physical therapy to ensure the muscles and tendons finished healing. She didn’t care. Finally, she would be able to start taking care of herself again. No more help in the bathroom, no more hand feedings, no more treating her like an invalid. Well, mostly at least. The third degree burns on her left hand and part of her right arm still had to be cared for every day. Eddie had offered his services on that front, taking lessons from the nurse on how to look after Liz’s injuries.

As soon as they walked into Liz’s apartment Eddie gently touched her shoulder. “V is going nuts, wants to be able to hold you.”

“I’m surprised by how patient he’s been up to this point.” Liz stated teasingly. A moment later she felt large, warm arms wrap around her waist and carefully lift her up. Venom was treating her like she was made of glass as he settled on the couch and cradled her form against himself.

“NOT PATIENT, WORRIED. YOU WERE BADLY HURT, LITTLE BIRD. WE DID NOT PROTECT YOU.” Venom was nuzzling his face against the top of her head and she could feel the rumble coming from his chest.

Liz tilted her head up and placed a gentle kiss along the edge of his jaw. “I don’t need you to protect me, Ven. I need you to support me. We look out for each other and we cover each other’s weaknesses.”

“WE?” He sounded amused now, that long tongue sliding down along her cheek. It left a cool trail in its wake.

“Yes, we. As in you, me, and Eddie.” Liz tried to push the distracting tongue away. Venom just curled it around her right wrist, testing the healing flesh gently.

“MMMM, WE LIKE WE.”

Liz smiled faintly, amused by his antics. Venom wouldn’t be the least bit disgusted by the scars she was likely to have from the burns. Appearance mattered about as much to him as it did to her. Eddie had made his stance about it clear while they were still in the hospital. He wasn’t leaving her.

“Me too, Ven.”

The doctors had been right. After three months of physical therapy Liz had gotten almost the full range of motion back in her left hand, but she’d lost some of the sensitivity. A few months ago, that would have been devasting, but now it was mildly inconvenient. Besides, Liz had too many good things in her life to let one raincloud darken her life. Not a day went by without Eddie and Venom in her life. Eddie would stop by with food and gossip. Sometimes he’d spend the night with her. Other times it was Venom, sneaking in through the window for a chat and some chocolate. He was still terrible about closing the window behind himself. Liz had managed to convince him to stay and cuddle with her instead of going back out a few times.

Tonight was a date night. Her boys had taken her out for a swing to enjoy the cool night air. Now they were sitting on the edge of a roof, Venom’s arms curled around her body to keep her close. Liz felt warm and safe here, head resting against his chest as she listened to both his heartbeat and the heartbeat of the city around them.

“Do you know how to dance?” She broke the quiet between them suddenly.

“NO.”

“Not really, I know a little.” Eddie’s voice came a moment later. Which meant they were doing that weird half and half face thing again. It didn’t disturb Liz the way it used to, but it was still odd.

“I want to dance. We’re up on a roof, no one will see us.” Liz grinned playfully, head tilted up toward their face.

They lifted her up and stepped back from the edge of the roof before setting Liz’s feet on the rooftop. She kept her hands on their arms as Venom’s heat vanished and she was holding warm leather instead of Venom’s slick skin.

“Alright. But, uh, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about too.” Eddie sounded anxious as he wrapped one arm around her waist and grabbed her right hand with the other. They swayed in place for a moment before Eddie started to lead her in a slow dance.

Liz smiled happily, trusting Eddie’s lead as he spun her away and then back to himself. His hands were warm and comforting on her skin. She waited for him to continue his line of thought, but he didn’t seem sure how to say whatever it was.

“You know, you’ve been in and out of my apartment a lot the last couple months. Do you even really use yours?” Liz asked as she was pulled back in close to him.

“Well, yeah. We need a place to crash too.” He sounded startled by the question, pulled out of his own thoughts. Or was he pulled out of a silent discussion with Venom? No way to know for sure.

Liz shrugged slightly. “I was just thinking… wouldn’t it be easier if you moved in with me?”

Eddie stumbled to a stop, still holding her. “Are you serious? You want us to move in with you? What if we mess this up? What if we make a mess or-“

She leaned up and kissed him to make him stop talking. The first kiss missed, bumping her nose against his, but the second was much more successful. Liz pulled back, settling back on her feet again. “We’ll deal with that together. I value having you in my life more than I value the perfect order of my apartment. I’ll traverse the dangers of dropped shoes for you, Eddie.”

“I love you.” The words were blurted out, more of a startled statement than anything else. “I love you, Liz.” That time his voice was full of too much emotion. Eddie wrapped his hands around Liz’s waist and lifted her into the air, swinging around in a quick circle before setting her back down and kissing her this time.

When he finally pulled away, Liz panted and chuckled. “I love you too, Eddie. I take that as a yes?”

“Yes. Yes, we want to move in with you.”

“FINALLY! WHY DID IT TAKE SO LONG TO SAY THE WORDS, EDDIE?!” Venom sounded so exasperated and amused. Liz smiled and lifted a hand so that Venom could nuzzle his head into her touch.

“It wasn’t that simple…” Eddie muttered, sounding embarrassed.

“YES. IT WAS. NOW, DO WE LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER?”

Liz tilted her head. “Ven, have you been watching Disney movies again?”

“NO!” Oh, that defensive tone could only mean ‘Yes’.

Eddie groaned softly. “V, I told you to stop watching movies while I’m sleeping.”

“WE GET BORED. WE COULD GO EAT SOME PEOPLE INSTEAD.”

“No, no, I’ll accept the movies.” Eddie was quick to backtrack on that one. He was still a little grossed out by eating people. It was better just to not think about it.

Liz scratched gently along the underside of Venom’s jaw, eliciting a rumble from the symbiote. “To answer your question, Ven, no. Happily ever after isn’t a real thing. But we can make the most of every moment we have together. The good ones and the bad. We have each other, so we can’t be doing too bad.”

Venom rumbled happily as she continued to scratch along his jaw. “EDDIE, WE WANT THE RING.”

“Ring?” Liz asked in confusion, listening to the choking noises coming from Eddie. He’d tightened his grip on her waist as well.

“VENOM! We can’t just… you can’t just say that! We’re not… we haven’t even-“

“WE LOVE HER, GIVE HER THE RING SO THAT THE OTHER MALES KNOW SHE’S OURS.” Venom stated imperiously.

Liz could feel the heat rising to her face. “Oh. Ven, we need to have a talk about that. Uh, marriage might be a little too soon. Not that I don’t love you both, but we haven’t… I mean we don’t know… what if…”

“YOU ARE BOTH MAKING THIS TOO COMPLICATED. WE SLEEP TOGETHER. WE WILL LIVE TOGETHER. WE LOVE EACH OTHER. WE WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU, LITTLE BIRD.”

Liz leaned her face against Eddie’s chest, shoulders shaking.

“Liz, I’m sorry. You know how he is. He only learns enough about culture to suit his own purposes. Don’t be upset.” Eddie had shifted his hold to carefully rub a hand up and down her back.

She tilted her face back up toward Eddie and threw her arms around his neck. There was no stopping it now, laughter bubbled free as she peppered Eddie’s face with quick kisses.

“I love you! I love you both so much! Life would be so boring without you both!”

No, there was no such thing as happily ever after. Sorrow and pain always find their way into life. But without those emotions, how would we ever know what happiness is?

#love is blind #venom x eddie x oc #venom x liz #eddie brock x liz #the finale #thank you all for the support!

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the-uptake · 5 years

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Fluorescent Twilight, 2

The Uptake, With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence. Book III, Chapter 4, Part 2. Go to previous. Go to previous section. Go to next.

Between the two sections, TW’s for: drug use, major public crisis with death toll, violence, injury, permanent disfigurement of main characters. (Last updated 2018.11.11)

‘Choly noticed an increase in the light in the area outside the lift, but the resin suppressed comprehension of its significance. He stared out along the floor and out the glass, and favored backing up more comfortably into Augen’s curvature over investigating the myriad angles and surfaces created through the refracting extraordinary light source. Augen felt him go enough slack to partially unhinge joints, and manipulated the rag doll which laid with him such that ‘Choly had an arm around him as much as he had an arm around ‘Choly. The fingertips of the vampire’s other hand plied at the supple velveteen flesh at ‘Choly’s neck and jaw, and he worked it loose in vacuous boredom as the two existed half a bubble off reality, like two beads of oil on the water’s surface, resisting the agitation of heterogeneity.

The frame of the lift hummed like insects, and the two curled tighter together. It lurched outright, and began to descend. With concerted scrutiny, ‘Choly believed they were sinking into a flow of beetles, and strained against the grip Augen had on his elastic skin in delight of feeling them crawl across its distended surface. Parched, Augen let go to pull out his canteen and, still recumbent, poured some of it out over his head and neck. ‘Choly ended up splashed a good bit, and the dreg squirmed and flinched his eyes shut. He sat up and wiped the beetles from his face, and looked up to squint again with a bright light in his eyes.

“Jh-- The slag have you two been doing in here with the outage?” The woman in white utility-vinyl coveralls squinted in revulsion through her BLT visor, but kept her reader tilted toward them to keep them illuminated. “Sorry it’s taken so long for us to get out here. There’s over eight thousand lifts in this sector of Tri-City alone, and mobile Tesla pillars are short supply at the moment. We’re working as diligently as we can to get everyone out of downed electrical modules. Wh-- You a hybrid?”

“I suppose in spirit,” Augen replied to nothing.

“Why do we need to evacuate?” ‘Choly rubbed at his face, frowning dully as he watched the beetles flowing out of the lift. “You’re... you’re letting them out.”

“Yes, we’re getting everyone-- Great, two confec junkies. Can you stay with me please?” She rubbed at the visor-glass with thumb and forefinger, then grumbled and traced through a few sigils illuminating her visor-glass with tread-gloved fingertips. Her gaze skimmed through lists and maps.“I’m Leigh, and I’m with the Manhattan FEMA responders. We need to get moving.”

“Melanochro,” he murmured, trying to follow the electrical technician’s coaxing to exit the dead lift. His attention snapped up and he corrected, “‘Choly. I’m ‘Choly.”

The slip didn’t go unnoticed, paired with Leigh seeing his skin in disarray at the beginning of their encounter, and she squinted at the two of them. Augen handed him his cane and slunk up behind them to keep pace, slouching at ‘Choly’s height for proximity.

“What level are you? I need to know which emergency shelter to take you two.”

“Twelve” and “four” came without hesitation or context.

“--I’m officially ignoring you until you sober up.” She whipped about face and snarled at Augen with a wagged finger, and he stuck his thin tongue out at her between pursed lips. She then turned to ‘Choly. “You’re only slightly less glossed than he is, not that it means much. I can work with Level 12, so he’s going with you for the time being.”

“...Central,” ‘Choly drawled out wide-eyed, slowly looking side to side in the Wolfram glow bathing the streets in what felt like dripping ectoplasm. Emergency sirens echoed all around them, above and below. “We need to get to Central...”

The technician tilted her head at him with a strained sigh.

“I hope you know that’s nine kinds of impossible right now. We’re escorting people to shelters until the city gives further instruction how to proceed.”

“No, my boyfriend... Central, he works at Central...” The tears came again, and he stared at the technician. “Cecil. George... Cecil. Physical Copies.”

The acute pang of realization shocked across her lens-distorted face, as to personal proximity for her current charges, and her features soured into resolution.

“We’re on Level 5 right now, and the buses are loading about fifteen minutes from here. Go ahead and load into my flatbed cargo so I can tare out.” She gestured to the treadless flatbed parked on the sidewalk near the elevator they’d just left behind. “You two are in luck that you’ve only got to share space with my toolkit tonight. Usually I’m transporting parts for specific jobs.”

‘Choly gulped, stress eroding his veneer. He hadn’t ridden in an open-air vehicle since he ran with the Tellurides. Wearing his mental preparation on his face, he stepped in and sat down against the slat-sides which boxed in the back half of the part-scooter, part-wagon. He didn’t much like the cold of the corrugated metal under him, but Augen piling in atop him like a lousy noodle with limbs disrupted ‘Choly from mentioning that such a vehicle was typically not meant to transport multiple people. The vampire leaned hard into his friend’s shoulder and did his best to tuck himself smaller.

Leigh hooked her reader into the mount on the T-bar handles, and synced the device and her BLT visor to the vehicle, then spread her bulk-tread stance to the illuminated sensor panels in the floor of the flatbed. The vehicle thrummed from beneath as it powered up and tared to its contents. She gripped the bent handlebars and eased back a bit to elevate them off the sidewalk.

“’Choly,” she instructed over her shoulder. “Think as hard as you can and tell me whether your boyfriend was at work today. When he usually gets off work.”

He rubbed his head-scruff and frowned, still lost in the alien sensation of experiencing the ambient phosphorescence of neobrutalist architecture absent of any other source of light. The flatbed hiccuped a bit as it cleared three feet, and he choked up, gripping his diamond-shaped handbag in one hand, his cane in the other. Augen rubbed his shoulder against ‘Choly’s to soothe him.

“He... works late all the time... Works... on the archival hubs all... the time... Comes home as late as ten some nights. He hadn’t messaged me that he got home yet... Usually does...”

“Why is Central on fire?” Augen started nonchalantly. He rearranged the black mesh shawl around his shoulders closer to his neck, and tucked it so as to keep his gills damp in moving air. “That much sudden damage couldn’t have been a simple electrical fire...”

“Oh, so you’re an expert on this stuff now, then. --All hands and feet in, if they weren’t by now.” Leigh leaned into the handle to speed off in the cool humid night. “I’m going to try my best not to speculate just how much confec it took for you two to get where you are right now. I can be a humanitarian tonight.”

“Cecil...” ‘Choly tried his best to focus on Leigh and not the elevation or trim pace they were clipping. “Where would they take him?”

“From the Nikola updates I’ve gotten, the hospitals in Tri-City have mobile Tesla pillar units standing in as emergency backup power, so they’re able to keep put all but the most critical patients--but they’re not accepting admissions until power’s restored. Survivors are getting funneled over to Manhattan Premier. With the citywide Web loss, we have to wait for power to get restored for more comprehensive updates.”

“...’Survivors’...” ‘Choly let go of his bag to put his hand to his mouth with a gnarled brow.

“Sounds like you should drop us off at the Lincoln Skybridge, and not the bus platform.” Augen grew restless, shifting in place yet again, but not once taking his eyes off Leigh.

“Out of the question. You’re not the only people I need to reach and collect tonight. ...Didn’t catch your name, hybrid.”

“...Sterling.” The vampire sat up neatly in place, nearly coiled on himself.

‘Choly questioned his memory whether it was his friend’s real name or not, but he could already tell something was off as he glanced between the driver and passenger with a pleading eye. He opened his mouth to side with Leigh, but before he could, she burst into an animated retort.

“Sorry to be callous, Sterling, but let’s be realistic. It is so far beyond the scope of my capacity for involvement to transport the two of you all the way to the Skybridge just so you can comb every hospital in New York until you get lucky that the admissions nurses got a positive ID on your friend. If he’s injured, the medical network is taking expert care of him as we speak.” She fact-checked some details on her reader, keeping one hand on the handle. “Look, you’re lucky that I’m pretending that I don’t know I’m helping a librarian shelter a Stalker refugee and a proto-hybrid. I’m leaving that up to the employees at the bus platform.”

‘Choly’s mouth shut into a thin line and, wide-eyed, he clutched at Augen’s pant leg in misconstrued desperation. Augen took measure of Leigh, and sprang up and unhinged his buccal funnel to wrap it around her throat, and clamped down. The lamprey wrestled the technician to tumble back into the cargo space of the flatbed, and ‘Choly scrambled to get out of the way and pilot the flatbed. The vehicle nearly tipped enough to send them forward-rolling, but 'Choly grabbed the handles and pulled up, speeding them skyward.

“SLAG ARE YOU DOING,” ‘Choly screamed, unable to tell where his eyes should be. “I DON’T HAVE A LICENSE--”

Leigh rasped and tried to burble out a cry for help. She freed her gun from its hip holster and fired off a shot to encourage Augen to let go, but he missed and it hit ‘Choly in the left leg. When ‘Choly hollered, Augen ripped into her more vigorously, and shook her neck fiercely. She got off a second shot before she dropped the pistol and it clattered back into the cargo area. Augen yanked the BLT visor off Leigh’s head without unclamping from her throat, and blindly handed it up to ‘Choly, who nearly fumbled it. Mentally thanking Leigh for taking out a leg if she had to hit anything, ‘Choly shoved his glasses into his bag, and fit the halo to his head and pulled down the visor. With a series of fingertip-drags across the front, it calibrated to his eyesight prescription, and his heart heaved with gratitude that the device hadn’t dropped its sync with the reader or flatbed.

By the time ‘Choly could manage to get situated to the vehicle and its instruments, they’d soared up to Level 8. He couldn’t bear down on the left foot sensor panel as hard as he needed to, to get a full stop, but he slowed them down to a much safer speed. Exhilarated to be in control of the flatbed as they sped down the open space, ‘Choly avoided the blacktop expanses, dipping around curves to keep up their speed. After they got to a long span of forward air, he took a moment to try to skim Nikola data on the reader to determine which hospital Cecil might have been admitted to. He looked back to find Augen had crumpled around Leigh in the cargo bed to get his fill.

“Of all the times to get the munchies!” Laughter sheared out of him as the stress met its breaking point. In revolted awe, he mumbled to himself, “...Slaggit, that’s nasty-- He’s in Hillock Plaza.”

Once the flatbed got up to Level 10 to the Lincoln Skybridge, Augen found it time to jettison the technician now that she’d no longer be of use to either of them, and she landed in the Hudson. Immediately the flatbed went off-tare and bucked them off. ‘Choly let himself go slack to limit joint impact, and the two rolled out and landed in the astroturf of the rest area. The flatbed careened into traffic and took a sedan into the guard wall.

The next thing ‘Choly knew, Augen was carrying him bridal-style down the street into Manhattan. The dreg looked up into the face of his friend, who had drawn up his shawl to conceal his features. His head throbbed, and he squinted at the blood streaks still on the battered vampire’s face. Augen glanced down at ‘Choly, noticing he was conscious again.

“You are a terrible driver. You know that, right?”

“What! It’s not my fault you threw your fast food overboard. Just when I was gettin’ the hang of it, too--” ‘Choly grunted and squinted, and squirmed trying to locate his effects. “Ow, I, ow, my bag--”

“I have it. Cool it. I don’t have your cane, but I doubt in your state you’d make much use of it anyway.”

They walked in silence for a few blocks, avoiding traffic by taking pedestrian alleys.

“Cecil’s going to be disappointed, isn’t he?”

Augen glanced down, then kept his eye on the street.

“Why would he be disappointed?”

“What do you mean, why?” An incredulous stutter came out of the dreg. “I got my leg shot because you got hungry! I crashed a flatbed and--”

“Cool it. I’ve got a broken rib. Try to writhe less. And try not to weave wild stories about tonight to abandon knows who can hear you, would you? Hhf, hold onto my neck extra firm a second.” When ‘Choly complied, Augen used a free hand to retrieve his canteen, and handed it to the dreg to open for him. He doused the back of his neck with it and gave it back, then put it up. A weak laugh came out of him once he had both arms around ‘Choly again. “You wouldn’t want to find someplace to commemorate the evening, would you? I’m fucking wired.”

All ‘Choly could do was scoff at him.

“--On a full stomach?”

Knowing full well the meal had only highlighted the catastrophic evening for the hybrid, 'Choly rolled his eyes shut into a smile. Augen handed his reader to ‘Choly, and navigating with it they pushed on to Hillock Plaza. The dreg found comfort with his cheek against the lamprey’s damp, clammy shirt, and hear that monstrous heart going wild all the while.

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#biopunk #cyberpunk #dystopian #the uptake #with symbiotic self indulgence #wssi #melanochro kara #august ritter

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timberpen · 2 years

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Subject: C-147

Age: 4

Sex: F

Branch: Japanese

Description: C-147 is for the most part physically a normal 4 year old girl. C-147 has been obtained due to a poltergeist having attached itself to her. However unlike most cases of a poltergeist it doesn’t act as parasite but more as a symbiote. It caused those at top to look into the girl. It was found that her mother’s side of the family descended from reapers. It’s not known for sure exactly how far or close C-147 is related but C-147 was ordered to be brought in by any means necessary. C-147 has been brought in and has been acting out. C-147 has been found in the S class wing multiple times and has broken into another subject cell. Subject S-52 to be exact. S-52 has seemed to become rather fond of C-147 even asking for future meetings in exchange for good behavior and cooperation. This has been denied and C-147 has been set to be cured then released back into society. Of course under the care of undercover members acting as foster parents. Both C-147 and the poltergeist had to have her memories wiped shortly after being cured due to C-147 going catatonic after separation and the poltergeist resorting to violence while demanding to be returned to C-147. The poltergeist is now trapped inside a mirror in the facility with no memory of C-147. C-147 is being watched by our undercover members to make sure she doesn’t remember. (Year of release: 2047)

Major Edit (year of edit: 2057): The poltergeist has gone missing and C-147 is out of our sight. Light flashed red as the static creature held the document in her had laughing lightly as she handed it to her sister. “They really got us all wrong didn’t they!” The girl she handed it to expression hardly changed as her green eyes scanned the document. It was exactly what they came for and that was just the first page in her file she wondered what else or rather who else she’d find if she just took all of it. After all this place is about to go up in flames.

#original story #original writing #original character #tsukiko #eris

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larissaloki · 6 years

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Fandom OCs

I'm about to share my boy with you. He's very special to me and he really carried me through rough times, I loved writing him and rping him and he means a lot to me. So I hope you like him too. ^^

Marvel: Milan Egbert Oomen AKA Projekt Akela

Milan Oomen is born in Antwerpen, Belgium on the evening of July 4th, 1918. Right at the end of the first world war. His mother Arianne had an affair with a man named Victor Creed. Something her husband Sander never found out about. Milan doesn’t know of his true heritage. Milan moved to the countryside one year after his birth and grew up there. His childhood was relatively uneventful and normal until he turned 15.

When Milan was 15 his mutation kicked in for the first time when Milan fell out of a tree and broke his arm. The arm set itself in minutes at an odd angle and a crying Milan was transported to the nearest hospital to re-break and reset his arm. After that his parents kept Milan hidden away on the countryside until he turned 20. At that age he immigrated to the United States.

When he arrived in the United States Milan couldn’t speak English and because of it he had to scrape by to even get food. Eventually he got better at it and he managed to land a job at the warf. He could afford a small apartment and food from that point on.

In 1941 Pearl Harbor was attacked and it made Milan sign up for the US Army. He asked to be deployed in the pacific as opposed to Europe, he didn’t want to witness the devastation to his country and family. But what he saw in the pacific wasn’t much better. He still has nightmares about the horrors he witnessed. From villagers being used as suicide bombers to American soldiers using Japanese corpses for entertainment.

In 1945 he traveled to Hiroshima and stayed there for a month, he witnessed little boy fall down from the sky and scrambled for cover. Due to his healing factor he survived the atomic bombing and recovered after a few weeks of regenerating. The US Army pulled him back and kept him on a secret base for most of the time. He served in the cold army in an espionage division in St. Petersburg Russia, he was eventually caught and executed with his fellow soldiers. Milan was the only one that survived and he was imprisoned by the Russians. During an American mission Milan was rescued and brought back to the states.

In 1972 he met Sarah Brown during a leave in Hawaii and after ten years of dating her he married her. Not long after their marriage Sarah was expecting their first child. When she was 8 months pregnant Milan was called away to base and she was attacked in their apartment building by a heroine addict who had gotten in and pushed down the stairs. The fall killed her instantly, she broke her back. Milan heard of the incident over the radio in his truck and rushed back home. Her baby was retrieved through a C-section but after a fifteen minute trip to the nearest hospital the baby died in Milan’s arms.

To say it left a mark on him is an understatement, a part of him died that day. Broken and with no will to live Milan tried to kill himself by placing a gun against his head and pulling the trigger. He woke up two days later in a hospital bed. Many years went by, in which Milan attempted many more times to take his own life. All failed and the mentally broken man became a ghost. He lived, breathed and did his job but that’s all he did.

In 1985 Milan was recruited for a special Army devision called NEST, a team that specializes in counter terrorism. He worked hard till he took over the leadership position in 2000. Due to most of the team being older then allowed a new team was recruited.

Not long after taking command of the NEST Team in Kansas, Milan met Kuga. The feral was on leave at the time and he spend a couple of weeks camping in the woods just one mile from Kuga’s home. Kuga came back to Milan every single day and a father/daughter bond slowly developed. Kuga’s little brother James came along with her after a couple of days and he too, took to Milan quite easily. Milan found himself fathering the two young children of 10 and 7 and decided to adopt them as his own after he heard of possible abuse towards Kuga. His request was denied by the court as there was no physical evidence of abuse going on. Milan couldn’t return for James and kuga and instead was kept on acitve duty to train for a new mission.

In 2003 Milan and his team served in the Iraq war where he dealt with his nightmares all over again. He’s directly responsible for the death of several civilians because he led them into a building that was later bombed. He blames himself for that.

In 2008 Milan took the mutant cure that became available, the cure wasn’t permanent however and Milan was forced to live on.

From 2008 till 2010 Milan gets on SHIELD’s radar and several security checks and evaluations are done to determine if he’s possible agent material. He passes and in 2010 he joins the ranks of SHIELD. He’s currently a level 4 agent working for SHIELD’s undercover department. SHIELD has a contract for him with the Army, it states that as long as he’s on active field duty he’s working for SHIELD. If events were to force him to go off active duty he’d have to return to the army.

Milan is currently on probation after the events of the Galoyan rescue mission and the army is about to pull him out of SHIELD. That doesn’t stop him from trying to get along with the other agents though. He’ll try anything to keep his job at SHIELD, even if it means quitting the army.

Milan was pulled off active duty and he was forced to return to the Army. He worked closely with SHIELD agents of the undercover department. Mostly doing their paperwork.

And then, SHIELD fell.

After the fall of SHIELD Milan was picked up and rescued by HYDRA. The organisation captured and imprisoned him, performing multiple experiments on him. They extracted parts of his DNA in order to study his healing factor and replicate it for their next line of super soldiers. They also extracted his ability to see, smell and hear at phenomenal levels. His strength and agility markers were also copied and stored for future use. HYDRA wiped Milan’s memory after they collected all they needed and activated the implants in his brain. He stood under their full control and obeyed every command they gave him. Milan assassinated several SHIELD agents under their command.

After several test runs the implants failed, now only working at 30% capacity. With the failing of his implants, his memory returned to him. Not much, only about 10% but it’s something. He remembers three names of his past, Kuga, James and Bryce. He has no idea who these people are, just that they are somehow important to him.

Milan escaped the compound and ended up in Lebanon, Kansas.

And My current two projects: The Barnes/Brock twins (I am aware this is very self indulgent and it's probably not any good, but I'm having fun. And that's what matters.)

Ben Barnes & Jacen Barnes (Both 17 post SM: Homecoming, timeline ignores IW)

Benjamin Edward Brock-Barnes, born as Ellie Barnes and his brother Jacen Barnes were born to Lauren Barnes and Edward Brock Jr in Queens, NYC. Ben and Jace's father was already out of the picture at their time of birth and both boys were raised by their mother. They are the great grandchildren of Rebecca Barnes, sister to James Buchanan Barnes, and the best friends of Peter Parker and Ned Leeds (Ben) and Michelle "MJ" Jones (Jacen).

Ben wants to be an investigative Journalist and when he's not out scouting for the latest scoop in NYC, he's bugging Peter and Ned on how they can set up their own News network. Where Peter can do their photography and Ned can run the newspaper, of course.

Jacen is more interested in his blogging activities where he calls out the injustice of the world and posts about the protests he joins whenever there's no school going on. He's often joined by Michelle in this.

Ben struggles with his trans identity and being recognized for it while Jacen is more comfortable in his gay and queer identity.

When a field trip to San Fransisco goes haywire the twins are introduced to a slimier set of twins named Sleeper and Hybrid. Shenanigans ensue with the help of Spiderman, the man in the chair and justicegirl101 and before they know it, the twins are bonded to their own symbiote siblings and they're thrown into the fight of their lives.

Venom and Eddie suddenly have a lot of parenting work to do.

And that's what I got on them so far. ha, this was fun. But it also got waay to long. So that's all I'll share today. I've got way more though.

Larissa notes:

Oh my god these are amazing , the top one is my favourite though by far!! So well thoughtout and planned i am in awe! Im in love with Milan :3

Thankyou so much for sharing them with me!

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sapphireclaw · 6 years

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Let Me Make it Up to You (chapter one)

Look at me. Writing a Mystery Skulls fic. I’ve fallen hard for this fandom. heck.

(Not really Freaking Out compliant.) Inspired by this post by @ectoimp: http://ectoimp.tumblr.com/post/142977903809/was-talking-about-lewis-finding-out-that-arthur

AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13193790/chapters/30179910

Summary:

AU where after the events of Ghost, Lewis follows the gang like a normal person instead of hijacking a semi truck like the over-dramatic skeleton™ he is and finds out on his own that Arthur is innocent. Instead of telling them “oh hey, it’s me, ya boy,” he just kind of stalks them while being a mother hen because he feels bad about attacking them.

I can't believe I let him get away with Vivi!

Lewis paced in his manor, the walls flickering and pulsing with his mood. He had overexerted himself. Let his rage get to him. If he hadn't blown up when Arthur pulled Vivi away, he could have easily followed them. Now, he was much weaker, and Arthur had a huge head start.

Just the thought of the blond made Lewis seethe with fury. Vivi was with Arthur. The man who killed him. He had to get her away from him, before he grew tired of her and killed her, too. He couldn't let Arthur just get away with what he'd done. He just had to find them again.

"Where would they be?" Lewis asked himself with a growl of frustration. "They were obviously on a job, but where could another case of the supernatural possibly be happening around here? Think, Lewis, think."

After a few more minutes of pacing, the ghost stopped in his tracks. "I'll just have to follow the road and hope that they didn't stray from it." He decided.

A deadbeat cooed questioningly at him from its perch on his shoulder. Lewis spared it a glance and a pat. "Yeah, I'm going to leave. I'll take you guys with me, don't worry. I'll reform the manor once I find them." He told the little pink ghost. The deadbeat trilled and wiggled happily before it vanished into Lewis's locket.

The ghost silently called all of his deadbeats to his side and allowed them to hide in his anchor as well. He was grateful for them. When he first formed, he was lonely. Lonely and confused. Then, they appeared. He thought at first that he had created them with his longing for company, but he later found out that they were just lesser, formless ghosts drawn to his power.

Together, they formed a symbiotic relationship. Lewis gave them physical forms and they kept him company. They were useful, too. The little ghosts learned fast, and he taught them how to play instruments and sing. It was strange that they couldn't talk, but could sing. Lewis chose not to question it.

As nice as the Deadbeats' company was, Lewis still longed for the company of his friends. Friend, he had to remind himself. He only had one friend left, and he had to protect her from his other so-called friend.

With that thought in mind, Lewis set out. He knew that once he deconstructed the mansion, he would feel more energized. It was a good thing, too, since he wasn't feeling all that powerful when he reformed and still wasn't. He definitely felt up to finding Vivi, though. His determination restored some of his depleted energy.

As Lewis walked down the staircase of the main hall, the walls of the building became translucent and then transparent. By the time he was at the bottom, his feet hit the dirt of the now empty lot. The ghost lifted off the ground and floated toward the road where deep gouges had been cut by the van's tires when it sped away. Lewis stopped and stared down the road in the direction it had gone. Glaring at the star-speckled horizon, he gathered up some energy and shot off with a plume of pink fire flaring behind him.

Eyes narrow, Lewis sped down the road. A single thought encompassed his mind.

You can't hide. I'll find you, Arthur. - Lewis couldn't believe his luck. Only a couple hours later, he stumbled across the van parked in what appeared to be a large campsite among the trees of a forest just outside the bramble field. The lights were off and the usually loud engine was silent. They must be asleep. Perfect.

Lewis quietly glided toward the van, but he soon noticed a small light around the other side. He willed himself invisible and went to investigate. It was Arthur. He was sitting on a little patch of grass with his laptop on his crossed legs. The light from the screen made the bags under the blond's eyes look like nasty bruises and made the tear tracks on his cheeks glisten. It would be so easy. Just grab Arthur and drag him into the woods... Wait, why was Arthur crying? Lewis had to do a double take. What was he looking at?

Curiosity momentarily outweighing his murderous intent, Lewis floated closer and leaned over Arthur's shoulder. He saw a map on the computer screen, with various icons marking places. He recognized the logo for Kingsmen Mechanics, but the rest of the map was covered with little pictures of... him? Some were crossed out with Xs, but others were just his face surrounded by tiny question marks. Then there was the drawing of his ghost form with exclamation points and question marks in the spot on the map where his mansion had been located.

Lewis was confused. Was Arthur... looking for him? But that couldn't be right. Arthur killed him. He knew exactly where he was: rotting away back in that damned cave.

Then, startling Lewis out of his thoughts, Arthur spoke. "Where are you, big guy?" He whispered with a sniffle. The blond wiped at his eyes with his right hand before closing the laptop slowly.

The ghost watched as Arthur lifted the laptop off his lap and struggled to stand up with one hand. Suddenly, Lewis noticed that Arthur's left arm was gone. He jerked back, floating away from Arthur a few feet and stared, shocked. Sure enough, there was no arm attached to the blond's left shoulder. Lewis absently recalled that it was the arm that pushed him. Why was it gone? He remembered Arthur having both arms when he was chasing him through his manor. Or, maybe he didn't. Thinking back, Lewis realized that Arthur's arm was silver and shiny then. It was made of metal. A prosthetic.

He numbly watched Arthur slowly walk around the van and climb into the back, hunched over as if the whole world weighed on his shoulders. Dread began to creep up Lewis's spine. There was something wrong here. Something he missed. Then, hope replaced his dread. Maybe... just maybe his best friend didn't kill him. Maybe something else was at play.

Lewis thought back, back to when he was alive. He ran the memories before his death over and over again in his head. There was the cave. They went because there were rumors of an evil spirit residing in it. He remembered that Arthur was really scared to go in, even more than usual. Lewis had promised to protect him from anything that jumped out at them, and Arthur reluctantly agreed to go with. Then there was a split in the path. He and Arthur went up, while Mystery and Vivi went down. Arthur became increasingly jumpy and nervous, but Lewis didn't pay much attention to it, he was too busy marveling over the amazing view from the ledge.

Then... then Arthur pushed him.

Lewis growled in frustration as he tried to remember every detail of those last moments. He remembered turning around to tell Arthur something, but his words died on his tongue when the green hand struck his chest. The hand was green. Arthur's whole arm was green. Half of his face was smiling and green. Green like the mysterious fog.

Lewis groaned and grabbed the sides of his skull. He messed up. He messed up big time. How could he have been so blind? Arthur wouldn't hurt a fly, so how did Lewis become so convinced that he murdered him in cold blood? He knew that Arthur was especially sensitive to the supernatural. He should have realized that there was something in that cave. He should have realized that was what killed him, not his best friend. Now he'd caused Arthur pain with his misplaced rage. It physically hurt to think about. He could feel the crack in his anchor grow deeper.

While Lewis was mentally beating himself up, he didn't notice the van doors open until Arthur's voice came from inside.

"Alright, alright. I'll go to sleep soon, I promise! I just want to check the engine one last... t-time..."

Lewis turned around when Arthur's words trailed off into a frightened whisper. The blond was staring at Lewis, eyes wide as could be. His metal arm was back on, and it was frozen on the handle of the open van door.

Lewis realized with a start that he'd returned to visibility while he was lost in his thoughts. The two stared at each other for a whole minute until Lewis spoke.

"Arthur, wait-"

"Viviiiii! Th-That ghost is h-h-here!" Arthur shrieked. The blond mechanic scrambled back into the van and slammed the doors in Lewis's face.

The ghost's hope quickly turned into shame and guilt. Of course Arthur was scared of him. He attacked the poor guy just a few hours earlier. Lewis growled angrily at himself and slapped a hand over his face. "You're an idiot, Lewis Pepper."

The ghost floated closer to the van doors and raised his hand to knock, but the slightly muffled voices inside made him pause.

"Oh god, Vivi, the ghost is back! He's going to kill me! I knew I'd be killed by something supernatural, but I don't want it to happen right now! I'm only twenty two! I have so much life left to live! Who will take care of my hamster?!" Arthur babbled hysterically.

Then came Vivi's voice. "Arthur! Calm down! Take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong."

Lewis heard Arthur take a rattling breath before he spoke again, a little slower. "It's the ghost! The one from that haunted mansion that tried to kill me! He's right outside! H-he's come to finish the job! Oh, Vivi, what do I do?" The mechanic sounded close to tears. It made Lewis's heart hurt.

The ghost found that he was suddenly reluctant to knock. Arthur was absolutely terrified of him, and with good reason. How would he react to finding out that the friend he was so desperately searching for was both dead and the ghost that attacked him? He would be crushed! Lewis didn't want that. It was obvious that Arthur was suffering enough already. Always on the road and stuck in a wild goose chase. Lewis wanted to tell them who he was, so they wouldn't have to keep looking for him, but he also didn't want them to know that their search was in vain. He was dead.

Lewis dropped his skull against the doors of the van with a hollow thunk. He didn't know what to do. He just wanted to ease his friends' pain. Especially Arthur's. He wanted to help them so much it hurt.

The ghost mentally counted to ten before lifting his head. He just couldn't tell them. He didn't want to cause them more pain. He could apologize, however, for attacking them earlier. They obviously didn't recognize him, and he would try to keep it that way.

Lewis finally knocked on the door. "Hey, uh, could you open up, please? I promise I won't hurt you. I just want to talk." He pleaded. He tried suppressing his accent, as it would be a dead giveaway. It wasn't hard. He'd learned to talk without an accent as a young teen due to relentless bullying. He never had a reason to hide it around his friends, though. He just hoped he could keep it up.

Lewis could hear a muffled shuffling, then Arthur's voice. "Vivi! What are you doing?!" He shrieked.

"What? He said he promised not to hurt us!" Came Vivi's reply. She sounded closer to the door.

"Are you crazy?! He could be lying! I really don't feel like dying today!" "Think about it, Art! A ghost wants to talk to us! When will we ever have an opportunity like this again?" Vivi insisted.

"Vivi, no-"

Lewis took a startled step backwards as the van doors swung open and he was greeted by an excited Vivi. She quickly jumped out of the vehicle and stood uncomfortably close to Lewis, grinning like a madwoman. Lewis glanced behind her, and saw Arthur peeking out at them from the driver's seat, as far away from him as he could be. Mystery sat like a guardian in front of the seat, glaring at Lewis suspiciously. The ghost wasn't able to look at Arthur long, because Vivi caught his attention once again when she suddenly smashed her fist into his skull.

Lewis made a strangled noise as his head flew off his body and landed in a patch of grass several yards away from the van. He was struck with a feeling of vertigo while he watched his body stumble toward him, hands reaching blindly.

"Woo, that felt good!" Vivi laughed, shaking her fist. "You deserved that, you jerk!"

"Vivi! Are you bonkers?! Don't make the ghost mad!" Screamed Arthur.

Lewis's body finally caught up to his head and he was gingerly lifted back to his proper place above his shoulders. He dusted a few blades of grass from his skull and dug clumps of dirt from his eye sockets, but other than that, he was unharmed.

"Okay, yeah, I deserved that." Lewis agreed as he walked slowly back to the van. He moved gingerly, trying not to provoke Vivi again. He'd almost forgotten how scary she could be when she was mad.

Vivi fixed him with a glare and folded her arms. "Yeah you did. What the heck were you doing, trying to hurt poor Arthur back there!?" She scolded, shaking her finger at him.

Lewis rubbed the back of his skull and looked down at his feet guiltily. "Y-Yeah, about that..." he looked back up, gazing over Vivi's shoulder and into the van where he could see Arthur cowering in the front seat as he watched them warily. "I came to apologize. I... uh, I thought you were someone else. You look like the guy who killed me." It wasn't a lie, really. "I'm sorry for attacking you. It wasn't until you left that I realized that you weren't the man who murdered me." He said sincerely, staring Arthur in the eyes as he spoke.

Arthur looked away from the ghost's glowing gaze, but he at least looked thoughtful. Vivi, however, was absolutely ecstatic.

"Wow! You're really self-aware for a vengeful ghost! Usually they don't differentiate between people and events, and only lash out at anything and everything. Ah- that was rude, wasn't it?" Vivi caught herself and backpedaled. "What I mean to say is that you're really something! Isn't he, Artie?" She turned to address her friend, but all she could see was the back of the seat and a few tufts of his hair poking out over the top. She puffed her cheeks and put her hands on her hips. "Arthur! He's not going to hurt us! Come out, he's perfectly safe!"

Arthur shuffled around in his seat and peeked around the edge just slightly. He looked scared and not at all put at ease by Vivi's words. "I-I think I'll st-stay in here..." he squeaked.

Lewis felt his anchor turn a darker shade. Arthur was so scared. He didn't know if he'd be able to make up for causing it. Vivi opened her mouth to tell Arthur to come out again, but Lewis waved a hand in front of her face to draw her attention away from the trembling blond.

"No, it's ok, i'm not offended. He doesn't have to do anything. I've scared him enough already." Lewis assured. He smiled, or tried to. He wasn't sure how successful he was with a jawless skull for a face. He must have shown his happiness enough to make Vivi brighten back up and delve right back into her questions.

"So, how are you here right now? I thought you were haunting that spooky house. Most ghosts can't leave the place they haunt." She said, eager to hear his answer.

Lewis waved his hand and formed a black plush chair to sit in, smirking internally at Vivi's awed stare. "The mansion is a construct of my power. It doesn't exist unless I want it to. I'm not bound to one place, really, so long as I have some purpose somewhere else." He explained.

Vivi was practically vibrating in excitement. "C-can you make it right now?!" She gasped. "Like, right here? I wanna see it!"

Lewis nodded and stood from his chair as it disappeared in a flare of pink fire. He turned to the large campsite clearing and raised his arms to begin forming the manor, but was interrupted by Arthur's indignant squawk. Lewis looked back into the van and was shocked to see Vivi trying to pull Arthur out of his hiding place. Mystery was barking angrily at her on the floor.

"Come on, Art! He's gonna bring back that cool mansion! It has beds! Real beds!" She told him excitedly.

Arthur held onto the car seat for dear life, eyes wide and terrified. "N-no! I'm fine with the van! No spooky mansions, please!"

"But Arthur, I want to sleep in a real bed!" She pleaded, tugging harder.

"Hey!" Lewis gasped, jumping into the vehicle.

Startled, the girl let go of Arthur, who stumbled and fell onto the floor of the van between Lewis and Vivi, practically at the ghost's feet. The blond mechanic looked up and froze at the sight of an annoyed specter standing above him. Mystery scrambled to Arthur's side and growled quietly up at the ghost.

Lewis pinned Vivi with a stern stare, arms crossed. "If he doesn't feel comfortable with me bringing back the mansion, then I won't do it. You shouldn't pressure him into doing something he's scared to do. The supernatural may seem fun and exciting to you, but he's obviously wary of it, remember?" He said firmly.

Vivi blushed in embarrassment. "S-Sorry Arthur. I forget how scary the supernatural is to you sometimes. I just get so excited." She said sheepishly.

Lewis nodded gratefully to her before looking down at Arthur. The blond was staring up at him with a shocked and thoughtful expression. Mystery had stopped growling, and instead watched Lewis suspiciously. Arthur flinched a little when the ghost lowered his hand down to him, but eventually accepted the help and got to his feet with Lewis's aid. Arthur stared at the ghost in front of him for a minute. Even with a skull for a face, he looked apologetic and sincere.

Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath before focusing back onto those eerie glowing sockets. "Alright. Let's see that mansion again." He said confidently. In the next moment, however, he seemed to deflate. "Ah, there won't be any more moving suits of armor or scary paintings or trapdoors, right?" He squeaked.

Lewis laughed. It was a light, happy sound. He nodded to the nervous man. "Of course not. Again, I'm sorry about all of that. Let me make it up to you!" The ghost led the two humans out of the van and told them to stand back while he constructed his manor.

Lewis suddenly felt excited. He knew that he was a particularly powerful ghost, and he wanted to impress his friends. So, with much more flare than needed, Lewis built the huge construct bit by bit before their eyes. Purple and pink flames lit up the night sky as the building grew higher and more extravagant than his last.

When Lewis was done, he felt weak. He couldn't stay floating, and instead landed on the ground heavily. Even then, he could barely stand and swayed on his feet. A hand met his shoulder and he looked over to see Vivi smiling up at him.

"I think you overdid it. We don't need a place that big, and you look a little worse for wear." She told him gently.

Lewis nodded jerkily and raised his shaking arms again. Once he got rid of a floor or two, he felt much better. The building was still huge, much too big for just three people and a dog, but Lewis wanted only the best for his friends. He needed to make up for what he put them through.

"Okay then, I'll give you a tour." Lewis told them, grinning internally.

Lewis had his deadbeats prepare two rooms for his friends while he showed them around. Much to the ghost's relief, Arthur seemed to relax the longer he was in the house. No paintings moved, neither did the suits of armor. The building was brighter than it was when he was in it last. Burning purple lamps hung from the walls instead of flickering candles, and the layout was easy to remember, unlike the maze it was before.

Feeling accomplished, some of Lewis's depleted energy seemed to restore itself and he finished off the tour with a spring in his step. They ended up on the upper floor, in a hallway that started near the staircase in the main hall. There were four doors, two on each side of the hall.

Lewis opened one of them on the left wall. Inside was a large bedroom. There was a huge, plush-looking canopy bed with dark purple velvet curtains by a tall bay window, a dark desk that sat next to a large bookcase full of colorful books, a wide dresser on one side of the bed, and a lamp upon a night table on the other side.

Grinning internally, Lewis addressed his guests. "These are your rooms! The doors across the hall are the bathrooms. Take your pick and get settled. I'll be happy to accommodate you for the night." He told them politely.

If I do this right, maybe they'll let me travel with them. Lewis thought. He didn't want to go back to being alone. He'd forgotten how great it was to be with his friends, and now that he knew what it was like again, he didn't think he could go back to what he had before.

Lewis made a noise like he was clearing his throat to break the awkward silence that formed between them. "So... I guess I'll leave you to it then. If you need anything, just find a Deadbeat and tell it to get me. They won't be hard to find, the little guys roam everywhere. I told them to not go into your rooms, though, so don't worry."

Vivi and Arthur nodded, the former excitedly while the latter did so nervously. Lewis turned to walk away, but Vivi stopped him. "Wait! I have so many questions! If I dump water on you, will your hair go out? If I were to break that lamp, would you feel it? If-"

Arthur came to Lewis's rescue and grabbed Vivi's hand. "Uh, Viv, let's leave the ghost alone. It's late, and I'm tired. You can ask him questions in the morning." The blond practically begged. He kept throwing Lewis wary glances, as if he was worried about how he'd react.

Arthur was clearly uncomfortable with him around. Lewis rocked back on his heels and clapped his hands. "Well... I guess I'll just... I-I'm gonna go." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and turned away.

Lewis internally berated himself as he floated away. Why were things so awkward? He knew why, but he still didn't like it. He longed for the closeness they once shared. It really hurt to see Arthur so scared of him. It hurt even worse to think about why he was so scared of him in the first place.

Maybe he should tell them who he was. Maybe that would be for the best, after all. Better to get the shock over with so they can begin mending their friendship. Lewis perked up just slightly. Maybe that would work.

The ghost turned and walked back down the hall, practically running. He skidded to a stop outside one of the doors and raised his hand to knock, but, like back at the van, the voices inside the room made him stop. It was Vivi and Arthur. They were both in the room, talking. Well, more like arguing.

"Vivi, we can't stay here! We have to get back on the road!" Arthur was saying.

Vivi responded quickly and angrily. "But think about how much we could learn from this ghost! He's heckin' powerful and probably ancient! He must know so much about the supernatural. Besides, we aren't going anywhere! You never tell me why we're traveling all over tarnation, anyway!"

Arthur sounded close to tears when he practically shouted back at her. "Easy for you to say, he seems to like you! He tried to kill me! I'm not going to trust him! We need to get back to our search. We need to find Lewis!" Arthur's words suddenly choked off and his voice became frantic. "W-Wait, no! I didn't mean to say his name, Vivi don't black out!"

Lewis heard a heavy thud that sounded like a body hitting the hardwood floor. Mystery barked in alarm and he heard Arthur curse. Worried, Lewis opened the door and rushed into the room without knocking.

He saw Arthur on the floor with Vivi's head resting in his lap. Mystery was next to him, licking Vivi's cheek. The girl was motionless, except for the steady rise and fall of her chest. She looked like she was asleep, but Lewis knew better.

"What happened?" He demanded.

Arthur let out a shriek of surprise and fear at the sudden appearance of the ghost. Even as his whole body trembled, he still unconsciously hunched over Vivi's body protectively. Same old selfless Arthur. Lewis would have smiled if he wasn't so worried, or had a face.

"I-I didn't hurt her! I p-p-promise!" The blond gasped, eyes wide and wild.

Lewis tried to make himself look more unimposing, but he didn't know if he was successful. Arthur's body shook as the ghost approached slowly and kneeled down next to him. Lewis reached out a hand and felt Vivi's forehead, but the motion was useless as he couldn't feel warmth or cold very well anymore. He hummed thoughtfully and gently opened one of Vivi's eyes. They were glowing magenta. He gasped and pulled his hand away quickly.

"What? What is it?!" Arthur asked frantically, his fear of the ghost forgotten in his worry for his friend.

"That's magic. She's under a spell." Lewis murmured, outwardly calm. Inside, however, he was confused and frantic. Even as he gently lifted Vivi and put her in the bed with Mystery watching over her, his thoughts were going a mile a minute. That was his magic. He would recognize the color anywhere. That didn't make sense, though. He never cast any spells on Vivi. Unless...

"Was it something you said that caused this fainting spell?" He asked Arthur when he returned to the blond's side on the floor.

Arthur looked tired. So tired. "Yeah. There used to be four of us. Me, Vivi, Mystery... and Lewis, my best friend. He was this big guy with purple hair. Sweetest man around. He and Vivi were the cutest couple... but then we went on an investigation to a haunted cave and... something happened." Arthur grabbed his metal arm with his flesh one and stared down at it with glazed eyes. "I don't remember what; the doctors said I'm suppressing the memories due to trauma. All I remember is going into the cave, then waking up in the hospital down an arm, and a friend." Arthur began to tremble again, but not in fear. "Lewis was gone, my arm was gone, my memories of what happened to him were gone. So were Vivi's, but worse. She... she doesn't remember anything about Lewis. It's like he doesn't exist to her. She doesn't see him in pictures or anything! If I mention him, she'll either go all silent and absent, or she'll faint." Arthur's shaky voice lowered into a whisper. "I try not to say Lewis's name... but it hurts. I don't want to forget him, too..."

So that was it. Lewis vaguely remembered seeing Vivi on a lower ledge as he fell. She must've seen him die, and he made her forget. Magic cast on the brink of death was powerful, even to someone who didn't or couldn't use magic when they were perfectly healthy. Lewis didn't even know how he could break the spell, even though he cast it. Or maybe... Lewis looked down at his anchor. It was cracked badly, and glowed a dull blue. Maybe if he showed Vivi the picture inside the locket like he had planned, she would remember... Lewis shook himself mentally. Making her remember something so awful as his death? He just couldn't do that to her.

Arthur sniffled, bringing the ghost out of his thoughts. Lewis realized with a start that he was crying. Arthur choked out a bitter laugh, the hand holding his metal arm gripped tighter until his knuckles were white. "It figures that it was magic that made Vivi forget. The doctors couldn't explain how she didn't see him in pictures, yet I still could. Is the spell on me too? Is that why I can't remember what happened to Lewis? Is there a way to break it?" He turned teary eyes up at the ghost sitting next to him. Lewis wanted to cry as well. Arthur looked so lost. He was in so much pain because of this fruitless search for him. He just wanted to tell Arthur that his best friend was here, right beside him.

Lewis was silent for a moment before he tried to speak, but Arthur cut him off again. He hunched his shoulders and looked away from the skeletal ghost. "Look at me, dumping all of my emotional baggage on you. You probably don't want to hear this crap." Arthur said bitterly. He moved to get up, but Lewis quickly wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him back to the floor. Arthur tensed, and turned startled eyes to meet glowing magenta ones.

Lewis knew immediately that he overstepped a line. Arthur looked uncomfortable and scared, so Lewis quickly let go of him. "S-sorry." He mumbled.

Arthur looked away, still nervous. It seemed whatever moment they shared was gone, and Lewis cursed at himself. He shouldn't have touched Arthur. He almost forgot that the blond had no idea who he was and so far most of his interactions with him weren't all that positive. With a sigh, Lewis stood up. "I can't tell you how to break Vivi's spell, but I can tell you without a doubt that you aren't under it. What you have is exactly what the doctors said. Losing an arm is traumatic, so it's no wonder you're suppressing that memory. Maybe one day you'll remember." Lewis hoped that day wasn't coming any time soon.

Arthur still looked tired and sad, but his tears were dried and he seemed a little better. His now puffy red eyes didn't do much good for the dark bags under them, though. It looked as if Arthur hadn't slept for weeks. Lewis realized that he probably wasn't far from the truth. He remembered that Arthur always complained about how sleeping in the van hurt his back, so they would get a motel room as often as they could. Now, though, Arthur was so desperate to find him that he probably didn't bother paying for a room, or bother sleeping at all.

Lewis sighed and held out a hand for Arthur to take. The blond didn't hesitate as long as he did before, but he still flinched a little when Lewis gripped his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Now, you are going to bed." The ghost's glare stopped Arthur's protest. "Vivi will be fine. I'll have a few Deadbeats watch her. You, however, look more dead than I do. You're going to go into that room, and you're going to sleep." Lewis said sternly, practically herding Arthur out of the room and into the one next to it, while the mechanic kept giving him weird looks.

Lewis left as Arthur looked around and shut the door behind him. Once he was out of sight, he slumped against the wall and made a sound like a deep sigh despite possessing no lungs. This is going to be harder than I thought. He groaned. If he wasn't careful, Arthur would figure out who he was. He couldn't act as if Arthur was his best friend. He couldn't be his usual mother hen self. Arthur was a genius. It wouldn't take long for him to figure it all out, Lewis knew that. He just hoped he could postpone that revelation until he was properly prepared for the mayhem that was sure to follow.

After commanding a passing Deadbeat to keep an eye on Vivi, Lewis sank intangibly through the floor. He descended past the kitchen on the ground level, and into the basement where his coffin stood like a monolith at the back of the chamber. Lewis felt drained and weary, having spent too much energy so soon after reforming. He slowly floated over to the coffin and phased into it without bothering to open the lid. Once inside, Lewis retreated into his anchor. It was as close to sleeping as he could get, and he recovered energy much faster in this state.

As Lewis' awareness fell away into near nothingness, he vowed to do his best to help his friends. Starting as soon as they woke.

#mystery skulls animated #MSA #Mystery skulls #MSA fanfic #good!lewis #MSA AU #Let Me Make it Up to You

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