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#that and its chipping away at his mind and driving him insane while his humanity takes a backseat and has to watch all this happen
doodlboy · 1 year
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Demon El doodle dump!🩷✨️
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brandywine-tomatoes · 3 years
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One of the Bad Ones
From a little thought of mine <3
Masterlist
Pairing: (platonic) female!oc & crosshair
TW: sad/depressing thoughts, a little bit of human experimentation, self-depreciation, PTSD
Word count: 1895
QUICK NOTE: this is a concept with my oc Dain and her (platonic) relationship with Crosshair. Dain is a chiss jedi who hates the republic. She was the TechnoUnion's test subject years before Echo got there. She was rescued by the Batch and Co. when they went to rescue Echo. If you want more details, let me know!
-
There were good days and bad days for Dain. This day would be one of the bad ones.
Hunter and Wrecker were getting some much-needed rest, recovering from the day before. Tech was messing with a small part of the hyperdrive in his bunk with Echo helping, not getting the rest they needed. That left Dain piloting through the ridiculous amount of traffic on Pasaana, their new mission destination, with Crosshair as her co-pilot. A content silence consumed the ship, only Tech’s fiddling with a blow torch, Hunter and Wrecker’s soft snores, and the clicking of controls filling the cramped space.
Dain was consumed whole by her usual track of mind. The horrors of Skako were always her first destination. It was hard not to think about it, she was there for years. She constantly had to rhyme off the different things she could see, focus on the light reflecting and refracting around the ship, squeeze her eyes shut and dive into the life forces of her crewmates to bring her back from the fluorescent-lit laboratories and chilling surgical tables. Her limbs disobeying her commands as her captures messed mercilessly with her eyes. She could feel the tiniest of needles embedded in her iris, the sorry excuse for a numbing agent being injected.
She could still feel the helplessness that she constantly felt every second she was conscious on Skako. The bacta tube she was confined in when the surgeons needed a break still haunted her. Her long hair frail and coarse flowing like a separate entity, her oxygen mask so tight around her face practically another body part. She felt like she was being slowly and carefully pulled back to it, she could feel the warmth of the liquid seeping up her calves and past her knees, almost above her waist.
“You okay?”
Those few words violently pulled her out of the tank she was sinking into.
She didn’t feel the little drops staining her cheeks. Of course she wouldn’t, she was too messed up to feel the things that made her organic. She saw a sparkling on her cheeks refracting the light of the speeders and pods held up in front of her.
Dain quickly wiped them away. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“Simple question,” he said, his usual snark present.
“I am perfectly adequate; I don’t know where you’re getting your ideas from.”
“Your bullshit doesn’t fool me,” Crosshair sighed.
Dain whipped her head around to his dead serious face gazing out at the fully stopped highway. “I beg your pardon? I am not, as you say, bullshitting.”
“You’re suffering. You really think this act is convincing?”
She was perplexed.
“Don’t look so surprised.” He went back to prepping the ship from its parked mode to move a couple inches further.
Dain did her part in guiding the ship the few little inches. They stayed in silence for quite a while, Dain trying to stay afloat by following the train of speeders and pods zig and zagging across miles and miles towards the capital city. Crosshair had propped a tiny black book on his raised knee, sketching away like he always did when he had extra time.
“How could you tell?”
Cross continued with his pen. “Hm?”
“How could you tell?” Dain asked a little louder.
“Well crying doesn’t cover anything up,” he gestured with his pen to her newly wet cheeks.
She quickly went to work wiping them dry, the force drawing a deeper blue to her skin. She dropped her hands in her lap in defeat, her shoulders sagging. “I can’t control it.”
“Nothing special.”
“I misspoke. I can’t feel it.”
Crosshair seeded his sketching of the pods and speeders.
“I remember what lacrimal feels like, seeping from the tear ducts,” she continued. “But I just... I don’t function like that anymore.”
He didn’t know what to say. What do you say to such a horrific fact? What did they do to you?
“I, um, overshared. Apologies.”
“No,” he objected. “It’s, uh, fine.”
Dain sunk into her seat, pulling her knees up to her eyes instinctually. Making herself as small as possible eased a little itch in the back of her mind.
She was a leader before all of this, she didn’t want to shy away into a corner and fade away in her own shadow. She stood with purpose and commanded respect. She was a decorated soldier, higher in rank than most Jedi. She had a family who she loved and who loved her. She depended on the Wolffe Pack as much as they depended on her. She was one of them.
She held a burning passion against the Republic. She fought to someday end the war so she could help burn it down and build something better in its ashes. Something that didn’t negotiate living being's lives like they were poker chips to be tossed in a pot.
It was all gone. It disappeared. She only wanted to melt into the soil, maybe help the earth flourish with trees and wildlife beside a rushing river. She didn’t hold a passion for anything she used to. She wasn’t the leader she needed to be, she didn’t have a family, she didn’t have anything to fuel her anymore. She was empty and purposeless. Maybe I’m better off melting into the earth.
“Here.”
Crosshair tossed the little black book and the pen to Dain, landing in the space between the armrest and herself. Dain stared at it for a moment, unsure of what he was playing at.
She slowly unfurled herself, her feet setting on the floor without a sound and her nimble hands bringing the book and pen to her lap.
“You can’t stay in there forever, you know. It’ll drive you insane,” he started.
Dain’s shoulders deflated. “I know.”
“It’s impossible.”
She eyed him wearily. And I thought this was going to be a pep talk.
“You just have to escape long enough.”
She stayed silent and a small bit of intrigue nipped at her fingers.
“Try it,” he gestured to the open landscape in front of them.
Dain shimmied to the edge of her seat to prop the book to a blank page against the dash in a free spot of any controls.
“Any requests?” She asked without an ounce of cheek in her words, only what seemed to be defeat.
“Nothing you can remember.”
She looked around the desert in front of her. Only a city that looked like a birdbath all those miles and miles away and the pods and speeders backed up were to see. Nothing she could see really sparked interest in her, nothing ever did anymore.
Just as she was about to toss the book back, she found her subject. A little patch of orangey clouds against the scorching sun. The entire sky was filled with them, the light bouncing off every fluffy edge and casting long shadows, but this patch’s edges were sharply defined and outlined against the glowing of the sun. There was no double meaning, no metaphor she could attach to it. Nothing sad to see in the clouds, it just looked graceful and meaningless.
She scribbled away on a page, not having enough energy to criticize her chicken scratch. She remembered a piece of advice from someone she hadn’t thought about for what felt like decades. You always get caught up in what you think you’re seeing, not what’s actually in front of you. Exasperated laughter echoed in the aftermath.
She proceeded with that in mind, trying to stay out of her head and only taking what was in front of her to transfer messily onto the textured parchment.
Crosshair was the smallest bit surprised the broken woman in front of him kept sketching away for more than five minutes. He half expected her to toss it back and retreat into whatever hell her mind had become.
He didn’t believe it when Anakin told the rescue team on Skako that it was Force Marshel Dain Lec in the bacta tank, floating eerily like a dead specimen with a tight black shirt and shorts that gave away how much she looked like a dead, decaying skeleton.
She was basically a myth in the GAR. Force Marshel Lec was one of the most decorated soldiers in history; her battle plans and strategies were studied by captains, commanders, and generals. The Bad Batch admired her work, it was exactly their style of getting things done. But she only worked with Commander Wolffe and his battalion, she didn’t ever grace the rest of the GAR with her presence. The fact that she was one of the only Chiss serving the Republic only added to the mystery of Dain Lec.
But it wasn’t just her bat shit crazy plans and strategies that she was known for, her humanity and empathy were only dreamed of. The regs all had their fair share of generals who hated them for existing, some even had the unfortunate fate of serving under Krell, but the Wolffe pack only spread the word of her immense empathy and compassion. Ruthlessness and compassion never went hand in hand, but somehow the universe broke logic and made Force Marshel Lec.
Crosshair couldn’t put the myth to the face. Sitting beside him, still sketching away on the consul, was a shrivelled and washed-out woman who couldn’t feel her own tears. Granted, it had only been a few months of her being dumped on them along with Echo, and she hadn’t been in the thick of the action yet, only drawing up plans and flying the ship, but he couldn’t imagine what else an escaped science experiment could do.
“You underestimate my abilities a staggering amount, Crosshair,” Dain’s permanently shaky voice broke his thoughts and sent him into a panic.
His thoughts staggered. “You- you-”
“Force users can’t read other beings' thoughts, but I can most certainly piece together the ones that float by.”
Crosshair thought someone raised the temperature in the ship by 20 degrees.
“I... I...”
“I’ve made the best snipper in the GAR speechless,” a small smile spread across her lips. “It’s perfectly fine, no ill will befalls this situation. I’ve endured far worse than the judgement of others.”
He didn’t know what to say. Again. He felt embarrassed over anything, over the fact he’d stoop to such lows. Why was he like this? Why did he have to point out the worst in people who were already suffering enough? Was it some kind of ego thing? Was he that insecure?
Dain tossed the book and pen back to Cross, making him jump. She looked at him intently, trying to catch his gaze that was anywhere but on Dain.
“Cross.”
He sighed and met her foggy crimson eyes. It didn’t seem like a confrontation. She brought her knees up to her chest again and fidgeted with something in her lap. How could she be considered a leader? Stop it.
Her gaze turned to one of sympathy. Pity.
“You should consider your own advice, you really think this act is convincing?”
He scoffed and leaned back against the co-pilot's seat, turning his attention to the backed-up traffic.
She sighed deeply, like the weight of the world was getting heavier with each conversation they had. “I’m still here, even if everyone here doesn't want me to be.”
--
A/N: HELLOO PEOPLE!! It's been a while!! I haven't been writing a lot lately, that's not true, I've just been writing a long marvel fic and making new OCs that no one's interested in I'm sorry for that. If you want more of my bb Dain, please let me know! I'd love to share her with y'all!! Go drink some water, get a snack, take a break, you deserve it so much!! I'M SO SORRY IF THIS WAS OOC, I TRIED MY BEST OKAY
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jkbabiey · 4 years
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{JJK} Say it ⤇ 2
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Pairing:  fuckboy!jungkook x student!reader
Word Count: ~2.1 K
Genre: we’ll keep up with the flirty tension and let’s add a bit of an awkward tension to the mix... just for fun ; college!AU
Warnings: Jungkook seems to be less of a dick and Y/N gets shy, she’s still a sweetheart. 
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4th of March, 2023
Another typical saturday night. 
It was about midnight and you were, as usual, covered in anatomy books and human body scrawled papersheets. As much as you loved anatomy, you had to admit that along with interesting, it was a really exausting subject. You were incredibly sleepy from all the studying you’d been doing from at least 3 PM and all you wanted was to go to sleep, but you refused to give in to your desires, deciding to stay up at least for another hour. 
Yes, you were aware that probably - and most-certainly - you were sounding like a nerdy self-sabotaging bitch BUT you had a reason. You had an anatomy exam next week and you were determined to get the highest grade possible, even if it cost you some hours of sleep. And why was the reason behind that? Well... you had been holding a grudge... Yeah... In you previous anatomy exam - in wich you were close to getting the highest grade in class - your asshole professor had insinnuated that you had cheated just because he had seen you turn back to pick your fallen pen and though you were looking at your seatmate’s exam. You were -oh, so ready to get the highest grade of the class in this exam and freacking rub it in that dubass’ face.
You grabbed a handful of the crispy bacon chips you were using as a motivation to keep up the good work, furiously munching on them and preparing yourself to start reading another chapter of your favorite anatomy book, Gray’s Anatomy.
Before you got to read the first word something got your attention. You had never been so happy to receive a text from an unknown number in your life. This had to be a sign telling you to just go to sleep, for sure. You grabbed your phone instantly, dropping the heavy book on top of your sprailed thighs, finally finding an almost proper excuse to get away from your never-ending studies.
[Unknown number, 00:10 AM] - Hey princess
You didn’t take you long to remember the annoying man that approached you at the bar three weeks ago, probably because of the exact same choice of words he used the night he tried to seduce you.
[Unknown number, 0:10 AM] - Remember me?
You would be lying if you said you haven’t thought about him these days. His appearance was too good to just disappear from your mind in three mere weeks. Everything, from the way he looked to the cocky and snarky comebacks he spat after hearing you neglecting him multiple times that night was, unfortunately, attractive to you.
[You, 00:14 AM] - No.
You lied. 
It didn't take a lot of time for another message to pop up on your phone's screen.
[Unknown number, 00:15 AM] -  Come on, I know you've been thinking about me
Prick...
[You, 00:15 AM] - Tell me your name, and maybe I'll remember who you are.
Deep inside you knew that this wasn't the real reason why you were asking him his name. The truth was that you wanted to know a name, so you could associate his face – which you haven’t been able to stop thinking about for the last 21 days and it was honestly driving you insane – to a name.
[Unknow number, 00:15 AM] - I didn’t tell you my name, it wouldn't help baby
And, unhappily he was able to turn your little game against its own creator. 
That cunning little shit...
[Unknow number, 00:16 AM] - But we both know I haven’t left your mind these days
You were, once again, left bewildered staring at his text. He was a cocky, selfish, jackass that was completely full of himself.
You threw your phone on your sofa and tried to calm down. It was impressive how quickly he was able to get you all riled up. He literally just had to say something, anything, and you would already be thinking of ways to kill him. You wouldn’t say it out loud, but after that night you had been waiting for a call or a text. For his call or for his text, and that was the major factor that was holding you from telling him to fuck off right away. But you couldn’t blame yourself for thinking about him. He was annoying, yes he was. But he was also extremely hot, and if you’re being honest, you missed getting laid. You didn’t even remember the last time someone made you feel good in that way and you were definitely craving it. A woman has needs and, unfortunately, he filled all of your physical demands in a man even though you were selective, very selective.
And even after considering how physically needy you were at the moment, you decided to act against yourself once again that night and left him without any answer. The guy had already proven himself to be such a dick and as sexually needy as you coud be, you would never let someone like that get to touch one single inch of your body. 
You weren’t that needy, anyways...
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7th of March, 2023
It was Tuesday today. You hated Tuesdays. Today you would have to endure two straight hours in the lab. Your microbiology professor wasn't the best, and his monotone way of talking just made it all worse. Usually you would have pretty much use this two hours to discretely close your eyes and try to sleep. 
That would have happened if your crush hadn't asked to sit next to you. Right now, sleep was the last thing on your mind. You were fixed on the way Jimin lurked into the microscope's ocular. The way he pursed his plump lips whenever he didn't get the outcome he wanted or the way he looked at you and smiled softly from time to time. 
When class ended, Jimin got up from his seat and turned to you.
"Hey, do you want to come get coffee with me?" 
Your eyes widened and your lips instantly parted, shocked by his invitation. How come the hottest and sweetest guy in your class was asking you on a date?
"Yes, of course!" 
You cringed internally hearing how desperate that answer had probably sounded to him, but the smile on your face never faded. You threw your books and all the other stuff you could recognize as yours into your black leather bag and quickly walked beside him.
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You bit your red velvet muffin cautiously, sipping on your black coffee right away. You were trying to look pretty in front of Jimin. He had been your crush since you started med school. He had catched you eye immediately. He wasn’t the type of guy to try to get people’s attention, but he did, naturally. You two had been sitting in that coffee shop for about 15 minutes already and you were completely enchanted by his sweet and delicate ways. He was every girl's dream and you couldn't deny that you were a part of that crowd. He was absolutely dreamy and you were absolutely entranced in his whole appearance. 
"So... I noticed you haven't been dating anyone for a really long time now..." he smirked at you and waited patiently for your answer. 
The thing is, you couldn't really answer him. You had been caught off guard. You didn't know he would be this direct.
"Right," you murmured, completely flustered by his sudden approach to your love life.
"Don't be so shy, we're friends Y/N!"
Your expression fell immediately after hearing his words. And then came the sudden realization that this was not romantic. This wasn’t a freaking date.
"Maybe, I can introduce some of my friends to you! I'm pretty sure, anyone would love to date you, you’re absolutely gorgeous!"
His words pissed you off, but you didn't say a thing, displaying the smalles and most polite ever instead. How could he say you were gorgeous right after friendzoning you?
After that neither of you say a thing and just kept eating the food he insisted on buying until you noticed him squinting his eyes to see something behind you. 
"What are you looking at?" you asked, way more harshly than you had intended to sound, but he didn’t seem to notice, anyway.
"I think that's a friend of mine..." he hummed and squinted his eyes even harder. He had some vision problems, but he refused to wear his glasses - even though they looked great on him, what a surprise...
This was just what was missing  in tjis “date”, someone to take his attention from you. Definitely not a date.
"Really?" you asked sharply, looking at him in pure boredom. You knew you didn't have any right to be mad at him, but how are you supposed to react when your crush of 1 whole year says he could ask one of his friends to go on a date with you, just before saying your “absolutely gorgeous”?
"Yeah... I think it's Jungkook," he said, still waiting for his friend to finish paying his coffee and turn around, so he could see if he was or not the person he expected.
You rolled your eyes and looked over your shoulder, curious to see who Jimin was talking about, and just as you did it, your eyes locked with the familiar wide and shiny eyes from three weeks ago. You felt the exact same electricity you had felt that night in the bar and instantly turned your eyes back to Jimin, in hopes 'Jungkook' was someone else, anyone else. But when you turned back to Jimin, he was already standing up and opening his arms, ready to hug whoever his friend was. You still hoped and asked the Gods for his friend to be someone else, but not him.
"Jungkook!"
Jimin was so excited that you could see the glint in his eyes as he almost screamed his friend's name.
All your hopes died when you sensed his presence next to you, engulfing Jimin in a bear hug
"Hey man! Haven't seen you in a while!" he whispered into Jimin's hair loud enough for you to hear. His voice was very different from the one you remembered from the bar. It was much softer now.
"Yeah..." Jimin hummed softly into his friend's chest and when they parted from their tight and long hug, Jimin's eyes landed on you
"This is Y/N, she's a friend from uni. Y/N, this is Jungkook, he's my best friend, " Jimin stated and winked at you, remembering your dialogue from earlier. You could feel the heat in your cheeks and the color on them was probably pretty visible as well.
"Hey Y/N," he greeted as if he hadn’t ever seen you before in his life and trained his eyes on you to watch your reaction.
Well, your reaction was probably up to everything he was waiting. You coughed awkwardly and quickly sipped on your coffee so you could get rid of the annoying dryness that had settled on your throat. You looked over at Jimin, that wriggled his brows at you and winked discreetly. You decided to ignore him and in the meantime Jungkook’s smirk grew wider. You could physically see he was dying to make fun of you.
"Hey..." you answered quietly, after a long time. 
Jungkook chuckled and broke his stare from you, looking at Jimin
"I have to go but I'll call you later," he said while giving a large bite to his donut before sipping on his coffee.
"Stay a bit longer! You should meet Y/N, she's pretty cool," Jimin answered quickly, trying to hold his friend back, while your cheeks burdened even harder. Jungkook chuckled quietly again and answered his friend
"Can't, class starts in..." he looked at his clock to check the time he had left and his eyes widened "-fuck, I have 2 minutes" he looked between me and Jimin and muttered a little 'I’ll call you later', before running to get to his class quickly.
Jimin laughed a bit and ran his fingers through his blonde locks.
"I think there was some chemistry" he stated teasingly and you shot him a threatening look, trying to fight the smile that tried to creep up your face. 
“Shut up,” you muttered, suddenly feeling a lot more comfortable in Jimin’s presence. The awkwardness from before, now totally gone. 
"He's majoring in criminal justice, he’s actually a very smart guy..." he stated excitedly
"I don't care Jimin..." you said after chuckling lightly at his efforts
"Shut up, you liked him!" he screeched and hit you softly on the arm
"No, I didn't" you murmured and sipped on your black coffee.
Well, at least Jungkook had a good taste in coffee.
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You weren’t shocked when, at 5 PM, while you were enjoying your ride home in the subway, you received another text from Jungkook. Being the little brat he already showed he was, there was no way he was going to let this opportunitie of making fun of you slide. You had that figured out as soon as he left the coffee shop earlier that day.
[Unknown number, 5:00 PM] - You didn’t seem very brave today.
You sighed, wondering what you were supposed to answer. Well, yeah... How the fuck were you supposed to act brave when, first of all, you were by nature too socially awkward, and second of all, you had been under his stare, which was too intimidating for you to say something longer than ‘hey’. 
[You, 5:01 PM] - You also weren’t as dickish as you seem to be.
[Jungkook, 5:01 PM] - I am not dickish!
[You, 5:04 PM] - Of course you’re not.
[Jungkook, 5:05 PM] - Give me one date.
Your eyes-widened and you choked in the chocolate milk you were drinking. The sixty-year-old man seated in front of you sending you a slightly disgusted look, to wich you answered with a nervous smile.
[You, 5:06 PM] - Do you think you can woo me in one date?
[Jungkook, 5:08 PM] - If you want me to take you on more than one date, that’s alright...
You couldn’t help but laugh at his response. How the hell did he find ways to turn every single thing in his favour?! That was seriously a gift from god, and you weren’t even religious.
[You, 5:09 PM] - Oh my god, pls shut up
[Jungkook, 5:11 PM] - One date and i won’t talk to you anymore today
[You, 5:12 PM] - One date and you won’t talk to me the whole week.
[Jungkook, 5:12 PM] - Deal.
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rebelliouslala · 3 years
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4 Something
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warnings- violence, implied character death, language, manipulation between spies, dark themes
word count- 3.2k
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the plan, is simple. Infiltrate the front, Dream Gems, supposedly owned and run by the Pounds. Rob it. Get rid of any evidence. You and Johnny leave Baise by the break of dawn.
Yuta sighed loudly as Johnny helped you zip up some casual cargo pants, and you helped him with his wear, adjusting his gold and silver chains.
“We can’t take all day, Your Majesties,” the assassin sang to himself. You looked back, tried to give a smile despite its wear, as Johnny chuckled to himself and he quietly turned you around so you faced him.
“See? I told you Youngho—,” you started.
“Ah ah ah birdie,” he spoke as his fingers helped you slick back your hair. His left hand tilted your chin up and he gave you a big, cookie like smile. He made sure his chocolate chip eyes looked at you directly. “We mustn’t put any bad luck on this, right?”
“Right,” you repeated, “last job.”
“Exactly.”
You both stepped away, and you opened the door.
Yuta looked over from using his katanas as a mirror, inspecting his eye makeup. He sheathed them away into the sides of his pockets, and tied a silk around it to make his look more fashionable. His eyeliner was a devilish red; his eyes hint of a near forest black. He nodded simply. “Nice outfits. Can we go now?”
“After you, Yuta.”
“I said, call me Osaka.” Yuta warned, looking at your outfit still. His hand hovered over his katana handle.
“Well, how should we get there?” You asked, moving closer to Johnny and raising a brow.
Your friend responded, “I think car? Perhaps that would be best to get in and out easily.”
Yuta turned to the garage, “I’ll need to rid of the license plates when you both are done. Oh and, do you,” he gestured with a slightly limp hand toward you, his fingers lazingly out stretching, “Your code name?”
“A-ah,” you patted your sides as if looking for a card, “Uh, just call me Psy.”
“Psy?” Yuta repeated, and he smiled. “Alright.” You didn’t expect his smile to be so soft, as if you had seen the sun smile itself.
With an awkward nod the three of you made your way down the stairs, slowly. The time was at 1 am for the Dream Gems to be taken for the Ripples. Time was as plentiful as air.
You had wrapped your belt around yourself tightly, and Yuta continued to eye you both as you gently tapped Johnny’s knuckles at least once over it. He looked ahead.
Johnny and you were used to at least five other people going with you on missions. It was easy. It was simple.
Sushi and Johnny were good enough, both were quite well in literal punching and kicking while you completed a mission. They were twins in their pure brute strength. Sushi was good at intimidation; Johnny already had his methods of detaining people with ease.
Henry and Smalls were good partners- but partners for full missions like these, they may bicker but it was still fun to acquire powder and laugh it off in a restaurant next door to the chaos.
Jewel was another fun one, he was a trained assassin and had participated in smuggler tasks, perhaps years before you and Johnny came into the picture. Dreamer had rumored that with each mafia he’s been to, he gets a piercing.
But the most fun you’ve had with is another worker under the Ripple. He only came in at times that was dire, Gogo. Gogo was much younger than you and Johnny, but was talented throughout. He even saved Johnny’s life in the Southern Raid against the Pound, driving out near a million kilograms of powder and letting you both stay over at his hotel room in the Eastern side. He always tried to show his more human side out of the work, which was a great relief. Many who worked with the mafias in Baise never revealed themselves. Except for Gogo.
His voice echoed in your mind as you held onto Johnny, smiling and remembering how he used to giggle and always offered you and your partner a warm seat and home. He was so kind, you often forgot you both were trained killers.
Perhaps Yuta, or Osaka for that matter, wasn’t a bad man. Sure you worked with most of the Ripple before, so why should you doubt them now? Because he was new? It’s your last time to be a worker, and perhaps you both can get some food afterwards to celebrate for a success.
You eyed Osaka once again. He had winged red eyeliner and his lips were plump and a soft Valentine red. His blood red hair was cut into a mullet, and his eyes wandered to you again.
You let out a soft squeak before Johnny opened the doors to the lot, and you find Victory and Dreamer there. Victory looked up from wiping the windshield, as Dreamer, the youngest out of the entire mafia, looked up with a smile. “Ayo~!” He waved.
“Pickin’ a car for us, kid?” Osaka leaned on one side of his body, softly smirking.
“We’re coming with. Boss wants us to make sure you guys don’t get into trouble.”
“Boss?” Johnny repeated from Victory’s words.
The man sighed and tilted his head to Dreamer who was making funny faces at himself in the rear view mirror.
“Sorry, remind me again,” Osaka pulled Victory aside, so now only the four of you are in a circle. He brought Victory close to his face, his plump lips now out in a scowl as his eyes glew dangerously. His entrancing lips mouthed almost perfectly, to his hushed tone, “why we are listening to the kid?”
“You don’t know?” You asked.
“Know what, doll?” Osaka questioned, his eyebrow raised.
“Dreamer is the reason why The Ripple exists.” Victory stammered, eyeing how Osaka held onto Victory’s elf like ear.
Johnny chuckled, “Dreamer used to live with these guys on the streets, before one day he literally had a dream about becoming the biggest crime bosses in the city. So with the y’know, actual boss, they did it.”
Victory nodded in mercy and plea as Osaka let go, eyeing Johnny as his eyes glew like the Devil. “We’re ridin’ our lives on a fuckin kid, y’know that right?”
“He’s never been wrong.” You hummed as you see Dreamer look at the cars before nodding and marching himself up to a grey one, “What could possibly go wrong, Yuta?” You smiled.
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the plan was simple. At least two people were there, Jeno and another young man, Chenle. Chenle had given intel to Mr. Money and even offered to help. A quick in and out. No violence.
You wore sunglasses to cover your face, and a paper blue mask over your chin. Johnny wore a black mask over his face, holding you by his side as he always did, and he looked around the place.
The Dream Gems was a small, but gorgeous store. It had three walls, both the left and right had been stacked with various wooden black cabinets against the wall. Only four men were in the store, no younger than Gogo must’ve been, working behind a glass counter filled with small jewelry pieces. They had to be Dreamer’s age too.
Dreamer actually, continued to look around with happiness like he was in a candy store. Victory and Osaka was in the car listening to the audio chips you had on your outfits, as Dreamer giggled ahain.
The theory Dreamer had said was going to affect the job, was an ambush. Not only was Dreamer extremely fast, but his almost psychic abilities to detect people’s next move was insane. You only worked with him once when you were 19. You still had nightmares what he could do.
“Good, er, morning,” said a young man. He was strapping, and had slicked back hair. “My name is Jeno, how may we offer any service to you?”
“Hello!” Dreamer smiled widely. “I wanted to look at some necklaces for my big brother’s partner!”
Johnny nodded solemnly, softly holding you close to be affectionate. You gently touched his chest and closed your eyes with a smile to showcase the chemistry between you and Johnny.
Jeno smiled nicely and cutely, “Ah, I see, what a lovely couple they are. Let’s go to the side, hm, I believe our friend Shotaro may help you.”
You heard in the earrings you have on your ears, “Shotaro was never listed to work there.” Victory whispered.
Dreamer’s left pinky twitched.
“Caution to you all.” Osaka mumbled.
You all moved to the left, to a counter. Shotaro smiled. He, like Jeno, let you relax in his soft energy as he said, as if he was a moss whispering to you, “Good morning, what would you like help with?”
“A necklace puh-lease~!” Dreamer said with a zappy energy back.
Shotaro nodded, smiling still, his eyes creased closed, “Whatever you say- ah, and do you need a certain gem?”
“Emerald.” Johnny said before you. “It matches their skin tone.”
You smiled as Shotaro took out a silver chain, thin and nimble, intertwined like vines as an emerald, light and leaf green shaped as a plant hung prettily near you. Shotaro put it to your neck. “What are your names again? Are you married?” the boy made conversation.
“Jack,” Johnny nodded.
“Noor,” you smiled. Shotaro smiled at its prettiness to you. “It’s perfect.” the seller nodded, and eyed the younger man.
“And you?”
Dreamer eyed Shotaro, then you.
“Yangyang,” Victory warned in the mic.
“Sir?” Shotaro’s eyes darkened.
“IT’S A—!” you heard Yuta’s voice before you see the other two men in the room jump out of their betrayal stances.
Dreamer was right.
Ambush.
You launch yourself backwards, doing a backwards cartwheel and kicking Shotaro hard into the glass case on top the cabinet. Upon impact, he cracked everything behind him and Dreamer and Johnny ducked. behind him. The flexible boy caught himself afterwards, shaking off his injuries as he lunged at Dreamer.
Johnny whipped himself to be back to you and he smirked as he blocked Jeno from attacking you, grabbing his wrists as both struggle at each other, trying to make the other fall.
In the process you had cartwheeled, a man had taken your legs and thrown you against the cabinet behind him. You quickly had taken out your belt, got out the handy truncheon and with the same force, bounced yourself off the wall and hit the man in the face.
He groaned loudly and he quickly got out a small taser.
You smirked, putting the club in front of you horizontally to block, “Aww, pretty boy thinks that can stop me?”
The man smirked, “Perhaps,”
“Psy!”
The doors had opened, and you noted the red that had put a glare to your eye. You instead glanced at Dreamer being pinned to the ground, and his face turning pink while Johnny was currently going to the other man. Jeno laid on his back, unconscious.
“Se-,” Shotaro started, before Osaka pushed Dreamer out of the way, and aimed his silver blades to Shotaro’s throat.
“Get the shit!” Osaka yelled as he rammed the younger man to the wall with his foot. Shotaro smirked as he began to hold Osaka’s arms, before throwing them up with immense speed. Within seconds, both to you and your opponent’s awe, Shotaro was on the ground. Not a scratch or blood spilling. Osaka saw Johnny struggling to dodge the other man’s attacks, before Johnny had caught one of the other katanas.
There was an unsettling feeling to the red man, more to the fact you were not offered such an awesome weapon, rather than the real feeling of puzzlement you felt in your stomach. But you turned to the opponent who had now ran to the back, as if to show that you did not believe Osaka was your comrade.
You sighed to yourself in disappointment for the young man, but you dashed after, muttering. With a glance at your club, you threw it, with all your might in the direction of his head.
Once the man turned, the end point of the club hit him on his left side of his head, and he collapsed.
You grabbed your club, and you dragged the now unconscious body to the storage. You sighed to yourself, leaning against the wall, before turning to eye the room.
There were boxes upon boxes and chests on crates, full of rocks lined with golden and diamond shards, crystals of glittering colours and gems of shining value. It was stacked neatly, almost ready, perfect to take in and then out. You had began to get off your resting place, and look through everything. The stones, the money.
This find was spectacular. This money, this type of cash could get you far from the city, perhaps to a beach to live with Johnny on, to play in for the rest of your life and another lifetime after that.
“Y/n!”
You turned to Osaka hiding his katanas, looking at everything, you quickly grabbed a box, lifting it. “S-sorry, I was just, in starland.”
“Don’t be.” Osaka muttered, also taking in his fill of the wonderful view, “It’s quite—,”
The alarm rang off as soon as you had tried to take a step out, and thick concrete bars began to plummet down, trapping you, Osaka, and the young man who began to wake up.
“S-stupid,” the enemy spat out blood and rubbed his injured head, “Smugglers, it’s a booby trap.”
“Shit!” You yelled, before Osaka brought out his blade and thunked him on the head so he may pass out again.
You quickly began to pace. “Osaka, we need to get this out. Can you call Victory?”
“Well,” Osaka sheathed his katana, “We must first wait for Dreamer and Johnny—,” A blink of an eye passed and he started to seize up, shaking, his eyes widening and starting to water before he collapsed.
You rushed over to his side, holding to his clothes and shaking them, before searching for a sign for his well being, “Yuta!”
The man said, from behind you, “Hyung- h-he told me you guys would come.”
“Then,” you held your truncheon, close, eyeing up with hatred, “What are you going to do, boy?”
He sat up, wincing, “W-wait.”
You nodded and looked off, to Yuta’s corpse like body, “Then so will I.”
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the plan was simple. wait until Osaka woke up, then hopefully Johnny was still awake, if not, use your belt to knock out any other members and radio Victory as fast as you can.
“So,” you picked your teeth with an amethyst. The man, who introduced himself as Flavour, held a bunch of cards, preparing a new game of speed, “Who do you work for?”
“Can’t tell,” Flavour replied.
“Well obviously they’re coming, might as well just do it.” You said nonchalantly.
“Exactly.” The man went under his arms and watched the bridge of cards fall underneath his hands, and he nodded to himself in pride at the perfect shuffle.
You sighed, “Please?”
“Well,” the man laid out the start game as you sat on gold bars stacked on another, “Who do you work for?”
“The Ripple.”
Under any other circumstance you would’ve killed him.
But his taser was active, and this was your last job, and Johnny was outside with Dreamer, and Osaka was out for a long time, and Victory was going to call for help. Perhaps this can be an exception.
Flavour widened his eyes, his snow white hair bouncing, “huh?”
“The Ripple.”
“What do they want?”
“Money. This.” Your gestured to the gems around you with your club, before your eyes turned to rest at his face.
His face, young and handsome contorted, eyebrows furrowing and his mouth open for noise, but he only sighed, scoffing after. “And you?”
You shrugged. “Money.”
He started the game wordlessly, despite the fact you wanted to know is this front was truly under the Pound’s control. Nevertheless, you followed after a moment’s notice.
The game lasted, if you can guess, eight minutes. He won with a Queen and slammed the table once he had placed his side of cards down. He wore his mouth with a proud but childish smirk.
You let him beat you.
“Y’know,” Flavour took everything back, beginning to organize a game of War, “W- My bosses, they can help.”
“To be a pretty face at a front?”
“I get 32k a week.” Flavour replied almost mindlessly as he began to split the deck in half.
You stared at his speed, and thought at his echoing words. A week. That’s what you had earned after two years. Two years grinding and working yourself to a near death to even see a ray of light out of the city.
A week.
“Who are your bosses—?”
You heard a clank, and you turned, to see men dragging out Osaka. They wore suits, and Johnny was in ties, Victory was on the ground next to him, decorated black and blue bruises.
You stood up and readied yourself for a fight.
“Who are they?” Asked a gruff man as you grabbed your truncheon and made it loose, backing into a corner, grabbing a gold bar and taking it, “Listen! Just let me and my partner go—!”
“Their name is Psy.” Flavour spoke to the other men.
“Shut up, stripper name!” You growled as the men began to approach you menacingly.
“Ah ah, wait. Psy?” Someone, familiar, their voice was sweet, he crooned your name. Yes, you were popular, but not as much as John. Who knew you, truly, as a friend?
Out of the shadows, your eyes widened at the sight.
“Y-You- YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” You slammed the belt against the wall, and once it had formed into a club you jumped into the air, ready to smash that man’s head inside until you saw brains.
But Gogo had muttered, “Jaemin!”, and Flavour reacted by tasering you, longer than he did to Yuta, and you collapsed to the floor, twitching.
You couldn’t believe anything. You didn’t even believe you let your guard down.
You had let yourself pass out, and let yourself fail the last job for you and Johnny.
Johnny screamed behind his bonded self, as he thrashed like a wild animal, his eyes watering as he saw you get hurt.
“Ah, that’s better.” Gogo yawned and stretched. “Jaemin? Chenle? Shotaro, what the fuck happened?”
“Ripple assassins.” Chenle responded. “We killed their member, known as Yangyang, in the heat of the battle, he was trying to get in to steal everything.
“Well, that’s no good. What did Eos say?”
“He said to bring everyone there,” a man, buff yet lean said by the doorway, letting his other co workers haul your body, Victory’s, and Yuta’s to the door. He then stood next to Johnny. “Psy, that was their name, right Mark?”
Gogo nodded, “Yeah, known them for a bit.”
The man turned to Johnny, and Johnny stared back. His eyes glew a devil red.
“I think Eos should be given a nice present for the Dreamies perfect takedown of the situation.”
Before Johnny could even think, his world went dark.
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littlemissmarvelous · 4 years
Text
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Save Me
(This is part 2 to grand piano)
The beginning of Bucky and I was quick, passionate, and wild. People thought I was crazy for falling in love with the former winter soldier, and even more insane to be willing to marry him. Sam in particular always joked about how Bucky shouldn’t take that he has a dime like me for granted. I remember when he would laugh and his cheeks would get warm and red before he would kiss me softly. “I don’t think i could ever be stupid enough to lose the love of my life.”
Oh I wish his past self could see him now.
I thought i knew what heartbreak was. I thought it hurt, but that everyone exaggerated about it. That it would mend quickly…I couldn’t have been more wrong. You could see it from a distance; I was broken. It could be seen in the way I moved, the way I tried to get an impression from the overwhelming world around me. It could be noticed in the way I talked a bit softer every time somebody told me to speak up. I was broken, scattered in thousands of pieces, and nobody was there to pick me up again.
It’s been three days since and I haven’t left the solace of my bed. I know I need a shower, and a decent meal but my body is aching and my eyes haven’t really taken a break from crying. A loud knock sounds, making me groan at the fact that I indeed have to get out of bed. Trudging to the door, I peek through the peep hole to spot a very anxious looking redhead on my doorstep.
“Hey Nat.” I say after opening the door.
“Hey? Just hey after having not heard from you in days? Me and Steve have been really worried y/n, but we wanted to give you space.” I nod and quickly apologize. I didn’t intentiontially shut them out...it just works better for me to be on my own at the beginning. Her green eyes scanned my appearance and the state of my home before going to my face.
“Are you doing okay, y/n?”
The dam breaks.
I sob and whisper, “I can’t stop hurting, Nat. This hurts so much. I miss him but I don’t want to be near him. I love him but I also fucking hate him and I don’t know if I want him to hold me or stay the hell away from me because half the time my skin crawls now at the thought of his touch...knowing he placed those hands on someone else. He was giving his heart to someone else while I was stupid enough to believe I was the only one.” At the end of my spiel I was gasping for breath. Word vomit has a funny way of knocking the wind out of you sometimes. She frowns, eyes still trained on me. “I’m going to make you some tea okay? Go shower and maybe we can go somewhere, yeah?” I wipe my tears before replying, “yeah okay.” Turns out that shower was a godsend and much needed.
Nat ended up taking me to brunch that was filled with delicious mimosas. “You know what?” I ask.
“What?” She smiles.
“I want to go out tonight. Out out.”
Nat thinks for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah let’s do it. Get you back in the game, I’m sure Wanda and Sharon would be down to go too.” I grin before yelling, “Girls night!!!” And just like that the wound hurt a little bit less.
Later that night the four of us stood in Nat’s bedroom dressed to impress. She had placed me in a small red dress that had a high slit on the left and a deep v to emphasize my cleavage. With makeup done and heels on, we traveled to the kitchen for some pregame drinks while we ordered the Uber.
“You look absolutely smashing, y/n.” Sharon gushed to me, making me blush. Nat and Wanda quickly agreed with fast nods.
“She’s right y/n, you look like a frigging snack every man there will want to eat.” Wanda teased but winced after earning an elbow from Nat and Sharon.
My grip tightened around my glass, knuckles turning white. Other men. That was scary for me, the concept of other men. Bucky and I had just separated...I was nowhere near ready. A hand on my shoulder brought me out of my head and my eyes met Nat’s green ones.
“Hey, you don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. Just have fun okay. That’s what tonight’s about.” I smile gratefully at her and our moment was interrupted by the ding of Wanda’s phone.
“Uber’s here!”
5 shots.
3 mixed drinks.
And 3 Jell-O shots.
That’s how many I had when my legs decided to stop working and my vision was beginning to get fuzzy as I neared a blackout. Dragging myself to our table I fumbled for my phone and dialed the only number I could call.
“Hello?”
“STTTTTEEEVVVEEE!”
“Y/n? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He asked with a concerned tone.
“Mmmphh. I am VERYyyy drunks Mr. Steve ! Wanna shleep.” A giggle erupts from me and suddenly it was hard to stop.
“I’m coming right now. Stay there. Tell Nat I’m coming. “
“Ayyye ayeee my cap!!” I laugh and hang up and look up to find Nat in my drunk daze. Luckily she was already coming my way and I yelled “Natty!!!! Stevie is comin to take me to bed! Okay!”
“Get it girl!” She laughed and with that I made my way to the entrance, holding the walls for support to keep myself up. Once just outside I found a spot against the wall and slipped my heels off my aching feet without falling over. Hugging myself, I pray that Steve hurries up because it was absolutely freezing.
“I can warm you up hottie.” My eyes quickly went up to see an ugly older man grinning at me with chipped teeth and a malicious look in his eyes.
“No thanks.” I quip and look away to the streets looking for Steve’s car.
“Looks like you’re ride ain’t gonna be here for a while hot stuff. I’m real good with my hands. Lemme just warm you up.” He smirked and pounced. His hands grabbed my wrists and pushed me against the wall hard causing me to yelp.
“Get OFF!” I scream. He just laughs in return and his hands go to my dress to lift it up. Tears flow freely from my eyes as I realize what’s really happening and my movements are too slow and my hits too weak because I’m drunk. I’m sobbing at this point and begging him to stop.
It was my second beg and just before he got to my panties that a fist flew to his face and he dropped to the floor in pain. “She SAID to stop!” He seethed.
Steve came just in time. As I stared at him, tears in my eyes, I realized he always was there in time. His eyes went to me and his hand cupped my face as he looked me over.
“Are you okay, y/n?” I nod and all I can let out is another sob. He pulls me in for a hug and holds me tight. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here quicker. Let’s get you home.”
The drive home was silent but he held my hand in comfort, and I didn’t pull away. When the car finally stopped at the tower Steve quickly turned off the car and ran around to open my door and help me out of the car, wobbly legs and all. Holding me heels in my left hand we slowly walk towards the entrance but before I could get there my legs finally betrayed me and I fell hard to the ground.
I groan. “Aw damn that hurt.” Trying to get back up seemed almost impossible, the alcohol had managed to turn me into a human sized noodle. “Stevieeeee can you help a girl out?” He laughed and I let out a shriek as he picked me up bridal style and walked with ease into the tower. My arms wrapped around his neck and my head found its way to the crook of his neck. “You’re such a sweetie Stevie why don’t you have a girl?” His shoulders shrugged and he hummed in thought.
“I dont think the one I want is ready yet. Or rather if it’s even right for me to act. It’s difficult.” His words made gears work in my drunk mind as the elevator took us up to our floor. Finally reaching my room, he sets me down at the door. “Alright this is it.”
“Steve?” My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are wide as I gaze up at him.
“Yeah y/n?” His eyes lock with mine and my heart begins to race.
“Is...is the girl you’re talking about...me?” My voice shakes in nervousness and my shoulders tense as I await his response. His hand goes to the back of his neck and his cheeks are suddenly pink. Lord he was so cute sometimes.
“Uh...yeah, yeah it is. I’m sorry.” I didn’t think, I didn’t speak, I didn’t even debate it.
My lips were on his before I could even really fathom his words, his hands finding my hips as his mouth moved with mine. After a long moment he slowly pulled away and looked me over.
“Look, y/n, you’re still pretty drunk. I don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret. You might not actually like me once the alcohol leaves your system.” His blue eyes are drowning in disappointment, a pang of hurt hitting my heart. “Look, get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning and we can talk.” His words suddenly sobered me up enough that i had to do what i did next. He begins to walk away but I grab his hand before he could get farther away and halt his movements. I take a deep breath and whisper, “please don’t go.” His eyesbrows go up in question.
“I...would like you to stay. With me. In my bed.” I mumble. I had never seen Steve’s face so red before that very moment since he walked In on Sam and Wanda’s “workout” session. “I-I meant to just sleep. I would really appreciate your company. Clothing on and everything. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”
He smiles warmly and takes my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. “I don’t mind at all, sweetheart. Lead the way.”
Changed and makeup free, I got under the covers and waited for him to join me. He stared at the covers unsure, causing me to giggle.
“Steve, get under the covers silly. It’s fine.” He chuckles and lifts the covers on his side so he could slide in next to me. Both of us lied on our backs after turning out the bedside lights, staring at the sleek ceiling above us. “Hey Steve?” I whisper.
“Yeah?” He whispers back.
“Can you hold me?” I ask timidly, not wanting him to think of it weird.
“Yeah,” He opens his arm for me to cuddle to his side, “Come here.” I sigh gratefully and cuddle up to his side as his arms wrap around him. My eyelids and body are growing heavy as the tiredness part of alcohol consumption started to hit me.
“Just to let you know Steve, everything that was said and done tonight...I wont forget or regret it. I like you too. I always have, Bucky just got here first.”
But thank you for saving me, I wanted to say.
Not even a few seconds later I was out like a light. Tomorrow morning was going to be interesting.
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snarkythewoecrow · 4 years
Text
sometime you just gotta run to fly
By: snarkymuch
Word count: 3.7k
Rating: G
No warnings. This is mostly fluff.
Part 12 of the Broken Wing series
Summary: *reading the first would help you understand this, but it's fairly easy to read as a standalone*
Morgan has reached the age where she knows wings are for flying and starts jumping off the furniture to try. Peter stops by the lake house and helps Tony with her. It all family fluff with some questions answered about wings in this universe.
Read on AO3
Tony placed the last pillows on the floor in front of the couch and turned to look over his work. Morgan was stacking blocks on the floor by the coffee table, her small wings resting on her back.
Like all children, they were more rounded then they would grow to be, and the feathers fluffier, more down than actual feathers. Her bare feet wiggled into the strands of the carpet as she worked on her block tower. Tony took a moment to settle his nerves.
Ever since seeing the birds outside flying, Morgan had been obsessed with trying to fly, which just wasn’t possible. The wings they had were vestigial, a remnant of an earlier time.
Humans were too heavy for their wings to carry, though they could glide and control their falls, which brought Tony to his redecorating of the living room and all the pillows on the floor.
Ever since Morgan got the idea in her head she could fly, she’d been pulling herself up on the couch and throwing herself off, just to let her wings try to catch her. Her wings were small, though, and the feathers were immature, so he was worried she’d get hurt.
The squeak of the screen door made Tony look up, and he saw Peter’s beat-up Volvo through the window. The kid was just starting college, and it was his first car. Tony had offered to buy him an Audi, but he balked at the suggestion.
The kid was stubborn at the best of times, and he didn’t like to accept anything that resembled charity. Not a bad trait, but it did drive Tony insane, especially when it meant he was driving a car old enough to register as an antique.
It was safe, though, despite its flaws. Tony didn’t budge about safety. He’d gone over the car personally, making sure it wasn’t going to break down, or worse, cause an accident. That gave Tony some peace of mind.
The door opened, and Peter stepped into the living room, plastic bags hanging from his arms and backpack over his shoulder. He transferred some of the bags to his other hand and then shimmied his backpack off, tossing it with a thump by the door.
A broad smile stretched across his face when Morgan looked up at him, her wings fluttering and then charging toward him. Tony dashed after her, but she reached Peter first, grabbing onto his legs and looking up at him.
“Piggy ride.”
“My hands are a little full right now, Momo, but I’ll hold you in a minute. Promise.”
Morgan huffed, her wings arching up and flapping again. She took off back to the coffee table, bumping into Tony’s leg on the way.
“Don’t mind me,” Tony said with a smile. He looked at Peter, the kid looked tired but otherwise okay. “Hey, kid, how was the trip? Your jalopy make it alright?”
“Thelma’s a champ. Though she’s burning oil like crazy still but that’s no biggie. I keep some spare on the backseat.”
Tony drew a breath, shaking his head. “I really wish you’d let me buy you something newer.”
“Me and Thelma, we’re connected. She’s ride or die, Mr. Stark. I can’t just replace her because she’s a little needy.”
“Yeah, whatever that means.”
Peter started walking toward the kitchen but paused when he passed near the couch. “Why are all the pillows on the floor?”
“Morgan is going through the flying phase.”
Understanding crossed Peter’s face. “Yeah, I guess I was really a handful then. May told me stories from my mom about me trying to fly off the stairs.”
“Shh, don’t give her ideas.”
“You know it’s normal, right? All kids go through this.”
Tony huffed. “Normal or not, I’m not letting my baby girl get a concussion.”  
Peter went to the table and placed his shopping bags down, digging into them. He pulled out a package of Oreos and chocolate chip cookies with a grin. Tony raised a brow. Next came Twizzlers followed by Hershey Kisses.
“Really, Pete? You’re not giving all those to Morgan.”
Peter laughed. “Duh, I’m gonna eat some, too. Oh, and I got ice cream.” He produced a container of chocolate with marshmallow swirl.
“You’re putting her to bed tonight then, and make sure she brushes her teeth.”
Peter shrugged, taking the ice cream over to the freezer and stashing it by the frozen peas. “When’s Pepper coming home?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “You know, it drives me crazy you’ll call everyone else by their first name but me.”
“Sorry, not sorry, Mr. Stark. It’s gone on too long. We can’t change it now. It’s our thing.”
Tony shook his head, picking up the cookies and putting them away in the cupboard. “Pep should be home some. I need to start on dinner soon, but no treats until after, or I’ll never get her to eat real food.”
Peter turned, leaning on the counter. His gaze drifted past Tony, and then his eyes went wide. “Wait, Mo!” And then he was charging toward the living room.
Spinning, Tony saw what had startled him. Morgan was on the back of the couch, trying to stand, her wings flapping uselessly behind her.
Tony took off toward her just as Peter caught her in his arms, setting her on the floor. Morgan looked utterly put out to have missed out on flying, and Tony’s heart was still recovering from seeing her nearly jump. He hadn’t thought of putting pillows behind the couch. He’d thought she’d only jump off the arms or cushions.
xXx
Peter crouched down to be on Morgan’s level and brushed her hair back from her eyes. She was scowling at him. It was adorable how well she could pout.
“You can’t fly, Mo. I know it sucks, but our wings just don’t work like that.”
Her frown deepened, and she huffed. “Not fair.”
“I know it’s not, but there are lots of other cool things we can do.”
“Like what?”
His face scrunched in thought. “Well, uh, we can glide, which is nearly as cool as flying.”
He heard Tony sigh behind him. “Not to rain on your parade, but I don’t want anyone trying to glide either. Two feet on the ground at all times, them’s the rules. My house, so I get the final say.”
Peter rolled his eyes, making Morgan giggle. He tapped her nose with his finger and leaned in to whisper to her. “I’ll teach you to glide when you’re older. That’s what brothers are for.”
And Peter didn’t mind, and it was right that he be the one to teach her. It made him sad to think about, but Tony wouldn’t be able to take her gliding with his wings. Pepper could teach her, but if Peter was honest, it was something that he wanted to do with his sister when the time came.
Morgan grinned, seeming content with Peter’s offer. She turned and took off back to her toy hoard, and there wasn’t any other word for it. Tony spoiled her. They all did. Even Happy got in on it. And her Uncle Rhodey was always stopping by with cool toys. It was like a competition between him and Tony to see who could outdo the other.
Peter might not have had endless toys to bring with him, but he had something they all didn’t. He had raven wings, raven wings that made Morgan settle even when she was having the worst tantrum in history. She loved his wings.
Whenever they were together, she insisted he showed them so she could climb up underneath and let them settle over her. She was even getting better at preening. She didn’t pull on his feathers as badly as she used to.
Tony called over to Morgan, “I’m going to start the lasagna. Be good for your brother, Maguna.”
Peter grinned. “Of course, she’ll be good. I brought treats.”
Tony laughed, rolling his eyes. “Bribery only gets you so far. Just remember, you’re the one putting her to bed.”
Tony excused himself to the kitchen, and Peter glanced at Morgan, who was playing with a small, robotic dog. It looked like something Tony had built.
The down of her wings was puffed up, and some spots were being pushed out by adult feathers. She needed someone to preen to her wings a little.
Shaking his wings onto his back, he walked over to the chair next to Morgan and squatted down, resting his forearms on his knees. He peered over her shoulder, watching as she fed her doll to the robotic dog.
With the lightest touch, he rested a hand on her soft, downy wings. “Hey, Mo, whatcha got there?”
The small baby doll blinked at Peter as Morgan rolled her onto her side to better fit her into the dog's mouth.
“I’m feeding, Molly.”
The corner of Peter’s mouth tugged up. He shook his head a little. He was pretty sure this was just regular imaginative play and not some red flag about future problems. Morgan was just very creative.
Now that he was up close, he could see her wings better and brushed his fingers over the tufts of down that were sticking up. It wasn’t good to pluck the down, but he could smooth it out.
“I’m gonna preen your wings while you feed Molly. That sound okay?”
She nodded and continued her elaborate play. Peter gently ran his fingers through the down and feathers, letting them run through his fingers. He found a spot the down was knotted, and he worked it out.
“Ow!”
“Sorry, Mo. I won’t do it again. I think I’m all done. You want to do mine?”
If you had told Peter that he would be letting a child touch his wings before, he would have laughed, but now it felt natural. He wasn’t scared. How could he look at himself in such a bad light when the sunshine that was Morgan existed with wings just as black as his.
He carefully turned and got on his knees, so his wings were facing her, and a moment later, he felt her little hands ruffling the feathers. He let himself relax while she played with his wings. At one point, he was pretty sure Molly, the robotic dog, got involved and was walking across his wings. He didn’t mind, though.
He heard Morgan yawn, and he turned to see her looking back at him with tired eyes. Smiling, he got up and scooped her into his arms before settling on the couch, so his wings weren’t in the way.
Morgan wiggled into his side, pressing against him and touching his wing. She felt warm under his wing. The air was starting to smell like lasagna, and he knew dinner would be soon.
He didn’t intend to sleep when he closed his eyes, but he still drifted off, waking a little later to someone running their fingers through his hair. He blinked his eyes open, seeing Pepper looking down at him. Morgan was still tucked into his side.
“Hey, dinner will be ready soon. Why don’t you and Morgan get washed up?”
Sucking in a big breath, he yawned, dragging a hand over his face. He looked down at Morgan, who was still out cold.
Brushing her hair back from her face, he said her name a few times, getting a little louder each time. Finally, she stirred and looked up at him and then to her mother, who was still nearby.
Unlike Peter, Morgan didn’t need a minute to wake up. She went from zero to sixty in two seconds flat, launching off the couch and crashing into her mother’s legs.
Peter got off the couch and stretched his wings once before pulling them close and tucking them away. He wandered to the kitchen where Tony was cutting up the garlic bread. A bowl of salad was already on the table and the places set.
“Is there anything I can do?” Peter asked.
Tony shook his head. “Nope, I got everything under control, believe it or not. Maybe you can help Pepper get Morgan ready?”
“Yeah, sure, no problem.”
Peter could hear Morgan arguing with Pepper from the kitchen, and it only got louder when he got closer.
“I want my wings!” Morgan shouted.
“Sweetie, it’s better to put them away when we eat. It’s more comfortable to sit in the chairs.”
Morgan crossed her arms and huffed. “I don’t wanna.”
Peter walked over, kneeling in front of her. He tilted his head to the side. “Hey, Mo, we need to put our wings away sometimes. You can take them back out after.”
The little girl growled at him, honest to God growled. Peter glanced up at Pepper, who shrugged a shoulder. He looked back at Morgan.
“If you put your wings away, I’ll let you have an extra scoop of ice cream tonight.”
Morgan’s eyes widened just a fraction. “I get two?”
“Yep.”
She chewed her lip for a moment but then nodded her head. Squeezing her eyes shut and scrunching her nose, she pulled her wings tight against her and then made them disappear.
“Thank you, Peter,” Pepper said. “Do you mind taking her to wash her hands?”
“No problem. We’ll be right back.”
Peter scooped Morgan up and swung her onto his back, running towards the bathroom while Morgan squealed in delight.
After they were both clean and shirts a little wet from sprayed water, they went to the kitchen table, and Peter helped Morgan into her seat.
Dinner went well. Peter talked about starting college soon, and his budding relationship with MJ. Ned was coming to MIT with him, so that was cool.
Pepper talked about her meetings and how SI was doing, and Tony ate three helpings of lasagna while talking about how he spent his day with Morgan. Tony had become a stay at home dad, something that some people were surprised by, but those people didn’t really know him well then.
Morgan tried hiding her salad under a piece of her lasagna, but it didn’t go unnoticed.
“You need to eat the green stuff, too, Maguna,” Tony said.
“Don’t like it.”
Tony sighed, reaching over and picking up a piece of green pepper. “Eat this, and we’ll call it good.”
Morgan eyes it suspiciously but nibbled on the end.
Peter looked at Tony. “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t eat a single vegetable until I was like ten.”
Tony shook his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider, so your example doesn’t count.”
Morgan finished her green pepper and then pushed the plate away. “Ice cream?”
Peter laughed, getting up and taking his plate and stacking hers on top of it. “Yep. It’s chocolate with marshmallow swirl.”
Peter helped Pepper and Tony clean the table and pack away the leftovers. Morgan sat in her chair, watching them, swinging her legs.
As Pepper wiped down the table, Peter got a few bowls out and grabbed the cookies and candy, too. If he was gonna spoil her, he was going big.
“Do you and Tony want some?” Peter asked Pepper who was washing her hands.
“I’m all set, sweetie. Tony probably wants some, though.”
“Just a little,” Tony said, straightening the leaning tower of leftovers in the fridge.
Peter scooped Tony’s first, handing it to him as he passed beside him. Tony took it to the living room, finding his usual chair and plopping down. He filled the other two bowls with ice cream and tossed some cookies on the side for Morgan, leaving the candy on the counter for later.
After he put away the ice cream, he set a bowl in front of Morgan, along with a spoon, and sat next to her.
She managed the first bite with little mess, but soon, her face was covered in ice cream.
Sticky hands wrapped around the spoon and shoveled bite after bite into her mouth. She paused to nibble on the cookies, then her eye caught the Twizzlers, and any hope she wasn’t going to have a sugar high was thrown out the window.  
He grabbed the Twizzlers and peeled a few out of the package for her, observing her as she chewed them. He didn’t want her to choke.
When the pieces got too slimy and small, he took them away and grabbed a wet cloth to wipe her face and hands.
The moment her feet hit the floor, her wings were back out, and she was running off at warp speed for the living room. Peter finished cleaning up the rest of the mess and then joined the rest of the family.
The only thing that was missing was May. Having her there would have made his night complete, but she had to work. Apparently, car insurance for Peter didn’t come cheap. He’d offered to pay, but May wanted him to worry about buying what he needed for college instead, though Tony was covering the actual tuition. He’d tried to argue it, but Tony had dug his heels in and made a scene. It was easier to just agree than keep arguing.
Tony was already looking drowsy by the time he got to the living room, stretched out in his recliner with his ice cream bowl and spoon on his lap. Pepper listening to Morgan ramble about her toy dog, nodding at all the right moments. Morgan was talking a mile a minute. Clearly, the heavy dose of sugar was having an effect.
Pepper looked up at Peter with tired eyes. She’d had a busy day, and Peter felt for her.
“Hey, Mo, how about we go outside, and I show you something cool?”
“Like what?” Morgan turned to him, head tilting to the side.
“Remember I said we could fly, and your dad doesn’t want you to glide yet, but there is something else kinda fun. It’s kind of like gliding.”
She pursed her lips and then nodded, tossing the toy dog down on the floor.
“Be careful,” Pepper said as Peter took Morgan’s hand, guiding her out.
“I wouldn’t hurt her. She’ll be safe.”
Peter brought Morgan down to the driveway and turned to face her, letting his wings fall onto his back. Morgan watched him curiously, a line etched between her brows.
“Okay, now watch me. You should be able to do this, too.”
Peter bent a little and let his wings stretch out behind him, flapping them a few times. He could feel the power they had, even if they couldn’t get him off the ground.
Staying kind of low, he began to run down the driveway, feeling the wind catch his wings, then he jumped, flapping a few times, and got off the ground just a little. It was almost like gliding. He managed to stay in the air for a few seconds, longer than if he hadn’t used his wings.
When he looked back at Morgan, she was already flapping her wings and taking position at the start of the driveway, a look of sheer concentration on her face.
Peter smiled at her and waved for her to go. She took off as fast as her little legs could go, and Peter hoped she could get some lift.
Once she was running as fast as she could go, she jumped and flapped, stretching her wings. She didn’t stay up long, but it was enough for her face to split into a wide grin.
“Again!”
Peter laughed as he watched her run back the other way and repeat the process again.  
Eventually, Morgan began to slow as she tired herself out. Peter gathered her up and carried her inside. She rested her head on his shoulder as he walked. When he got back into the house, Tony was snoring in his chair, and Pepper was reading a book. She looked up when he walked by.
“Have fun? I took some pictures from the window. I can’t believe how grown up she’s getting.”
“Me either,” Peter said, still holding her tight. He ducked his head to see Morgan’s eyes were closed. “I think she’s ready to sleep for a few days.”
Pepper laughed. “She’s her father’s daughter. Give a few hours, and she’ll be recharged enough to go again. Of all things she could have gotten from Tony, she had to get his sleep schedule.”
“You want me to take her up? I’ll make sure she brushes her teeth and get her changed into some PJs.”
Relief washed over her, causing her shoulders to drop. “Thank you, Peter. Maybe we should be paying you when you come for a visit.”
He shook his head. “It’s no big deal. I always wanted to be a big brother.”
“Well, thank you again, Peter. Her pajamas are in the second drawer. I can give her a bath tomorrow.”
Peter carried Morgan upstairs, stepping into the bathroom first. Bending, he lowered the lid to the toilet and then gently nudged Morgan on the shoulder. She grumbled, but her eyes opened, and she looked around.
“Hey, little miss, we need to brush those teeth.”
Her bottom lip stuck out, but she wiggled out of his arms, and Peter set her on the closed toilet. He got her toothbrush ready and helped her brush her teeth, picking her up to spit in the sink after.
With that out of the way, Peter picked her back up and carried her to her room, setting her on her bed. He kneeled in front of her, untying her shoes and taking them off. He peeled off her socks afterward, sticking them in her shoes for now.
As he went to her dresser to find pajamas, he glanced back over his shoulder and asked, “Hey, Mo, can you put your wings away now?”
She nodded a few times quickly and then willed them away as Peter found her something to wear.
He helped her into her PJs, his wings still out behind him. Morgan grabbed the feathers for balance.
Once she dressed, a huge yawn broke from her, and she stretched her arms over her head. She crawled across her bed, grabbing her blanket and pillows and making something of a nest. He’d forgotten how young children found comfort in the primal activity. It was a remnant of times past.
She wriggled down into her nest and looked up at Peter. “Story, please?”
Peter smiled. “Yeah, how about I tell you the story of how I met your dad.”
Her brow wrinkled in thought. “He’s your dad, too.”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess he is. You’re right, Mo. How about I tell you the story of how we all became a family instead.”
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treatian · 4 years
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The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse
Chapter 212:  Angry Revenge
He was an angry man. One that was filled with rage and revenge and a desire to make others hurt just as badly as he felt he'd been hurt sometimes. Baelfire was always his motivation, but sometimes the anger felt like it was just as strong a motivator.
The only good thing he could see regarding what the Charmings had done was that now they were consumed with guilt. In his opinion, highly appropriate guilt, but he knew there was a Kingdom that would probably think otherwise. The pair set out to help everyone they could, save everyone they could save, in an effort to clear their conscience, he assumed. They threw themselves into the mine shaft and helping Cinderella and Thomas, who had announced only a week ago that they were expecting a child. So as they worked on his prison, he did do. He worked on final arrangements, those that he needed to make as well as those that would satisfy some of the gnawing anger he felt in his chest every time he took a breath.
First came what he needed to do. The Trigger to wake him up from the Curse. It was a simple matter, really. One that took a bit of pre-planning as well as one that relied on the future to bring him what he needed. A missing ingredient: a bit of the Dark Magic attached to the Curse. Of course, all this information would have made his job a lot easier if he'd known about it before! But he couldn't change his past, only continue to steer himself in the direction of the future. He had a small space in which he could hide things. So he'd chosen carefully. A bewitched quill, one that could channel magic, transfer spells from one surface into that of the writer. Squid ink, magic on its own, it would act as a battery, give his own magic a bit of a boost when he needed it most. And squid ink was long-lasting. The Seer said it was important that what he used it for would withstand the Curse. He knew that it would. Finally, a bit of parchment. There was nothing special about it, not now. It needed first and foremost to be infused with magic from the Dark Curse in order for his plan to work, and for that…he was trusting the Seer to see to that. It was big detail but a relatively small one in an operation he'd been working on for over one hundred years. He trusted her. She'd see him through.
One night, as everyone but the guards to his future prison slept, he cast a sleeping spell sending them into a deep sleep, and entered his future home. It was nearly complete. The bars had been installed, the cell itself hallowed out a bit more to create more "space", if the wretched thing could be called that. But the crevice he'd found previously was still there. Inside his hiding spot, he slid the parchment, the quill, and the squid ink.
It was done. All was ready for him when the time came…and he knew it was coming.
The women were pregnant, maybe six months. He figured he had about three more months to go before the Curse struck, when a blue jay arrived at his tower window and chirped loud enough to get his attention. Attached to the bird's leg was a note, a small one signed "Princess Ella." He had to read the entire thing before he remembered that "Ella" was Cinderella's true name, despite what the Seer called her. The note was a simple request that he meet her a month from now to discuss the terms of their "agreement." He'd been expecting something like this. After all, they had announced to the Kingdom the coming of a royal child, they wouldn't do that if the time came and they had nothing to show for it. A meeting like this was necessary to trap him and the bluebird…well, that was Snow White's idea, no doubt. He sent word back with the bird that he accepted the meeting both the time and the place, and once it was off, he knew that would be it—his last day.
He knew how men often spent their last days of freedom. They spent them with the things and the people they loved the most. Some went to taverns, while others surrounded themselves with their families. He had no one. And the truth of the matter was the only thing he truly loved in this world, besides Belle's chipped teacup, was his spinning wheels. Perhaps, in a perfect world where he hadn't reacted so poorly, he would have spent these last days with Belle here in the tower. Or, if he had sent her away as he should have, he'd have found her and brought her back or stayed with her. He might have told her how he felt about her, about his plan, about all of his mistakes. But it wasn't possible. So he focused on what he had.
Revenge.
Yes, he knew…he knew that he wanted to be in that cell. The Seer told him he wanted to be in the cell, so he would go, but that didn't mean he wouldn't keep up appearances. If he did nothing in retaliation, they might discover that he wanted to be there, which would lead to questions, and he couldn't have that. It had to look like he'd done something in revenge for locking him away, and at the moment, that was something he wanted so bad he could taste it! It was misdirected, of course. The people he really wanted to kiss were the Blue Fairy and the Apprentice, but this would do. The Seer agreed.
"Separate them," the Seer urged. "Separation will drive the Swan forward."
Who was he to doubt his secret weapon? Especially when her advice made him feel so much better!
He spent the month before his imprisonment spinning and thinking up the perfect plan for those involved. He didn't have to worry about Snow and David; Regina would take care of them. But Cinderella and Thomas were likely not on her radar, and if he didn't do something, then they might wind up together after all. The night before their meeting, he spent it at his workshop table, using his magic to create something truly special and unique. He was the Dark One, after all, he couldn't let the last bit of magic that he spun be ordinary.
It was a nasty trick he was about to play, he knew that, but they were close to casting the Curse. This baby would get him the favor he needed, and he didn't want anyone to be around to help Cinderella when the time came except the Savior. So he crafted something the world had never seen before; he called it a Dislocation Curse. It was a curse that would leave the victim stranded somewhere far away in the realm, a place even he knew not. And he intended to place it on Prince Thomas. It would ensure that he wasn't able to be by his dear Cinderella's side in this world and the next. But with two months to go…he had to be careful about how he did it, especially if he wasn't to have magic when they captured him, which he assumed they'd account for in their plan.
He wove his curse carefully, layer after layer, adding spell after spell. A Confusion Charm, to muddle the victim's mind a bit. A spell for hyperactivity, which would make him seem a bit crazed and unstable to anyone he might meet. A Stripping Potion, one that would tear all his fine things, all his money, right down to the clothes that he wore, leaving him in rags with not a penny to his name. And finally, just for good effect, he added a bit of hair growth tonic to create a beard and long knotted hair. Wherever Prince Thomas ended up, he'd look as though he was a beggar, and he'd act nearly insane. Even after he recovered from the Confusion Charm, what man or woman would ever believe a man like him was a Prince and get him home before the Curse was cast. It was possible, he supposed, if he met the nicest of souls, but after watching Snow and David steal Maleficent's child, he'd take his chance on the odds that the human race in the Enchanted Forest wasn't as wholesome and pure as they wanted to believe.
Next, he turned to how to distribute the curse. He couldn't just throw the potion he'd crafted at Thomas; that was harsh and unlike him. He wanted it to be as mysterious as Cinderella expected him to be. So he came up with another plan and another potion. He linked the Dislocation Curse to the secondary potion and added to both of them a time-delay. The Secondary potion was one that inflicted pain, muscle spasms, to be exact. A small bit of it applied topically to the dress of say Cinderella would have it seeping through her clothes and send her into a small fit of illness. If he could get Prince Thomas to touch the dress in the same place that he'd rubbed the potion it would transfer to him, a small spell of delay would give him a few moments until it all kicked in, but eventually, the curse would take him and all without a wave of his hand. It was brilliant. All he had to do was touch Cinderella and then have Thomas touch her in the same place, and fortunately for him, pregnant women always seemed to have one protruding body part that begged others to touch it.
The night before he met with Cinderella, he snuck into their rooms in their palace. Cinderella wasn't present, the sheets and blankets on her side of the bed were tossed back, and her slippers were missing as though she hadn't been able to sleep and had just gone for a short walk. Thomas, however, slept on through his visit. He felt not a single drop of the potion that he placed over all his joints and dropped into his mouth.
When he left, he was excited for the next day. He couldn't wait to see his handy work at play.
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niksixx · 5 years
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Genghis Khan
Another song fic for you guys based off the song “Genghis Khan” by Miike Snow; Lyrics are in bold and italics! ☺️
Requested: Yes, by an Anon!
Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Female Reader
Description: Reader and Nikki are friends with benefits but Nikki doesn’t want a relationship but at the same time he doesn’t want reader with anyone else so he gets angry and jealous
Warning: Language, possessiveness
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“And I don't have the right
To ask where you go at night
But the waves hit my head
To think someone's in your bed”
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Nikki watched as Y/N slid off the bed, throwing on one of his ratted band shirts over her naked body. Her hair fell just below her shoulders, and somehow after three rounds of incredibly rough, raw sex, she looked like beauty in its purest form.
“Where are you going?” Nikki asked, body half covered by the blanket. “Got a late night booty call?”
Chuckling, Y/N rolled her eyes. “Nikki, the only late night booty call I get comes from you.”
That should’ve satisfied him, but the thought of Y/N sleeping with another man wriggled its way into Nikki’s thoughts. He had no right to ask where she went in the late hours of the night when she left him. They weren’t together, nor would they ever be.
But the thought still nagged at him. Hopping out of bed, Nikki slid on a pair of sweatpants before jogging to Y/N, who was halfway out the hotel door. “I’m serious, what are you doing?”
“It’s a secret,” she said, sending a wink in his direction. “I’ll be right back.”
Nikki felt like the biggest moron when Y/N came back in his room with cookies and vending machine treats stuffed in her arms. And to think she was leaving to fuck the dude down the hall…
“I told you I’d be right back,” she said, closing the door with her foot. Y/N dropped the treats on Nikki’s bed, patting the space next to her. “You fucked me to the point of starvation, so I stole some cookies from the front desk, oh and I also have candy bars, chips, and I got two sodas.”
Nikki and Y/N ate for a while in a comfortable silence. He’d met Y/N over a year ago, but he met the beautiful curves of her body three months ago. Nikki didn’t want a relationship and he was upfront about it, and Y/N understood. She wasn’t looking for anything serious either.
“Can I ask you something?” Nikki didn’t mean to let it slip from his mouth, but he had no choice to finish his question when he found Y/N looking at him expectantly. “Where do you go when you leave me? Are you seeing someone else?”
“I’m not even seeing you,” Y/N answered, sipping her soda. “We’re just having sex. I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“It is,” Nikki said quickly. “I’m just curious.”
Shrugging, Y/N clutched her soda to her chest. “I go home, Nikki. There’s no one else in my life right now. When I find him, I’ll let you know.”
And Nikki would have to be content with that answer. For now.
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“I don't want you to get it on
With nobody else but me”
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Nikki watched her dance with a man that wasn’t him the whole night. He’d nearly cracked the glass he was holding after watching as the man kissed up her neck. He was feeling possessive, protective, and fuck he tried pushing those feelings away. He’d bought one girl a drink and grinded with another on the dance floor, and still Nikki’s eyes wandered to Y/N.
After downing the last of his Jack Daniels, Nikki marched over to the crowded dance floor and grabbed Y/N’s arm. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like my girl back.”
“Nikki, what the fuck?” Y/N protested. With every curse that fell from her mouth she watched Nikki’s jaw clench. “Nikki, what is up with you?”
“Are you seriously going to dance with that dick knowing full well I’m watching you?” Nikki’s eyes grew dark. “I thought we agreed--.”
“We agreed to fuck,” Y/N said, throwing her arms up. “What is your problem?”
“My problem,” Nikki spat, “Is the fact that that guy wasn’t me. Goddamnit, Y/N, I don’t want you with anyone else.”
It was too much all at once. He didn’t want you, then he wanted you. Nikki couldn’t make up his mind, and it was frustrating you more and more each day when his possessiveness took over. “Nikki, you’re being complicated. I don’t fucking do complicated. Figure out what the hell you want.”
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“'Cause I don't really want you, girl
But you can't be free
'Cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene”
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You were hesitant about talking to Nikki, but you had to know where you stood. Months ago you and Nikki agreed to be friends with benefits, both opposed to the idea of a relationship. In reality, you could fall in love with Nikki, but you weren’t ready to be fully committed. And over the past few days, it seemed like Nikki craved commitment.
He answered his hotel door with a bottle of whiskey in one hand. His eyes were drooping and you could smell the alcohol pouring out of his skin.
“What?” Nikki slurred, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. “A bit early for your dick appointment, aren’t ya?” Nikki smirked.
Rolling your eyes, you shoved past him and made your way into his room. You figured since he was drinking the other three boys were hiding somewhere in the room, but as you looked around, you realized Nikki had been drinking alone.
“We need to talk,” Sitting down on his sofa, you waited patiently for Nikki to plop down beside you. He sat at the opposite end of the couch, eyes focused on the bottle in his hand. You turned toward him, exasperated. “Nikki, I’m totally fine if you have feelings toward me. I’m flattered, honestly. I think maybe down the line we can try and work things out between us, but for now we should just--.”
“I don’t want you,” Nikki said, taking a swig of the brown liquid. His face was impassive as he drank from the bottle. “I don’t want you, but I’m a selfish prick who won’t let you go either.”
Angrily, you stood up and grabbed the whiskey bottle, throwing it against the ground. Nikki popped up from the couch, eyes blazing. “I have had enough of this back and forth shit. You are fucking with my head and my heart, Nikki Sixx. I am not your fucking toy. I’m a human with real human feelings.”
“And so am I,” Nikki raged, tugging at the ends of his hair. He looked like a madman. “And I hate that I fucking feel something for you. I can’t be that man who holds you in public or wipes your tears away, but fuck the thought of you with someone else drives me crazy, Y/N. I want you, but I don’t want you at all.”
Stepping up to Nikki’s face, you took one last look at the beautiful man in front of you because it would be the last time you ever saw him. “Whatever we have here? Done. I’m done. Fuck you.”
And Nikki didn’t even bother chasing after her.
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“I wanna make up my mind
But I don't know myself”
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He hadn’t seen her in weeks. Nikki hadn’t seen her face, held her body, or kissed her lips in three weeks. Every thought of her was accompanied by pain, deception, heartbreak, and anger. He needed her back more than ever, but for what? Sexual gratification? Love?
He couldn’t do that to her. He refused to string her along. Y/N deserved more than what Nikki had to offer.
The tour was over and the first thing Nikki did when he got home after throwing his suitcases on his bed was drive to Y/N’s apartment. He didn’t care if it was raining at one in the morning; He had to see her.
Nikki hesitated knocking on the door. Maybe he should have waited until later in the week. Y/N might not even want to see him at all. He wouldn’t blame her.
The door opened, startling Nikki, and his eyes focused on the girl standing in front of him. Even tired, Y/N was so incredibly beautiful. “I thought I said we’re done.”
“When have I ever listened to anyone?” Nikki joked lightly, but Y/N’s face never wavered. “I know it’s late, and it’s raining like a motherfucker out here, but I’ll make this quick. I need you, Y/N. I need you in my life somehow, someway.”
Crossing her arms, Y/N let out an aggravated breath. “You said you didn’t want me.”
“I know,” Nikki sighed. “I know I did. And I’m sorry. I thought I could just be friends with you and we could fool around and have harmless fun, but you got hurt in the end and it’s my fault. I need to make up my mind, but sweetheart, I don’t know if I’m capable of being a man worthy enough to be with you.”
“You haven’t tried,” Y/N said, tugging at the end of her sweatshirt. “I can’t wait around forever for you to figure out what you want. I won’t do it. I’m sorry, Nikki.”
“Baby, wait, please,” Without thinking, Nikki grabbed ahold of Y/N’s hand, pulling her out into the rain.
“Nikki!” She squealed, holding his shoulders. “Are you insane?”
“For you?” Nikki winked. “Absolutely.” And he kissed her with so much passion it was hard for Y/N to not kiss him back. As much as he missed her, Y/N missed him ten times more. It felt normal being in his arms again, like she belonged there.
And maybe she did.
355 notes · View notes
thekriseffect · 5 years
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Blissful Silence (Liam x MC)
[Note: I had the day off from work today, so what did I do with my free time? Wrote another TRH fic! It’s a little (a lot) all over the place and it ended up being longer than I originally anticipated (apparently my mind had a lot to say), but overall I’m happy with its outcome... I think. That could change within a few hours.]
[Summary: After the announcement of the heirs gender and with Freya’s due date only days away, everyone is anxious for their arrival. You can read my previous similar fic here if you’d like!]
[Tag List: @romanticaheart-posts, @cora-nova .]
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“What about Oliver? It’s cultivated, like Liam, yet also simple, like you.”
I was gritting my teeth so tightly I was sure they would fall out as I stomped to the great hall, Madeleine hot on my heels with pen and paper gripped determinedly between her stupidly perfect manicured nails. I didn’t think it was possible for me to dislike her more than I already did, yet these past eight months had proved me wrong. She’d evolved from an irritating itch to a festering disease, one with seemingly no cure that was driving me more toward insanity with each passing day.
It was late morning and the palace was fairly quiet with most of the staff out doing their duties for the day, so it gave me the illusion that I was alone, which was far from the truth. I was never alone, not anymore. I knew Mara wasn’t far behind, my ever watchful shadow, though she was careful to camouflage her presence like she had been for the past several weeks, which caused the sour bitter-taste of guilt to stick to the back of my throat. I hadn’t meant to snap at her. I was just tired of everyone treating me like I was a piece of fractured glass, ready to shatter into millions of irreparable shards at a moment's notice. I was pregnant, not dying.
“Lionel would also be an acceptable choice.” I grimaced. “Or Alfred, after Alfred Dumar, the fabled Cordonian dueler. The public would love that, not to mention it would portray stability to name the heir after someone so admired within society.”
“For the last time, Madeleine, I’m not discussing baby names with you.” Liam and I had recently announced the gender of our child, a boy, under the guidance of our press secretary. We had originally planned to keep it a surprise but Cordonia’s citizens were growing restless as were the neighboring royals. They wanted answers and I was failing to provide them. Curse me for taking too long to grow a human being inside my belly.
A press interview was scheduled to take place in the great hall this afternoon to discuss the kingdoms future king, so I was shoved into a satin pearl gown that hugged my torso a little too snugly with dozens on beaded clips secured in my hair to try to tame the strands flat. It wasn’t working. I blew a rogue flyaway away from my scrunched forehead. Definitely not working.
“It would be good to disclose this sort of information during the interview, Freya. With your due date being mere weeks away the media is going to be as demanding as ever,” she told me matter-of-factly as she scrawled something inside her notebook as we walked from corridor to corridor.
“Then they can wait those last few weeks to get that information,” I shot back.
The one thing they fail to tell a pregnant queen was how different her circumstances would be from a regular pregnant woman. I knew that things would be more complex for me than a typical mother, I’d always known, but it was one thing knowing and another thing actually experiencing it firsthand.
Every one of them wanted a piece of my son for themselves. They circled around me like vultures, blackening the sky as they anticipated the big moment so they could dive in for the kill. Dive in for that tiny chip of power that they would be offered. I’d do anything, anything, to keep him from their clutches. He was mine… at least for now.
I’d stopped listening to Madeleine minutes ago. Her even tone melded into the background with the rest of the pointless factors as my mind raced with obsessive thoughts until a deep throb started to pound like a heartbeat against my skull. My soles hurt, my back cramped, hips too tiny to accommodate my now massive stomach, and this dress was trying to suffocate me with it’s never-ending ruffles.
I slipped a clip free from atop my head.
I was warm. Too warm. Like I was sitting too close to the sun. Why did this castle have to be so goddamn warm?
Another clip was ripped away impatiently and dropped, forgotten on the marble below.
I glanced down at my dress. I hated the color ivory. It was reserved for people who were considered pure and innocent and I was neither. I felt like I was posing as something I wasn’t wearing it. It wasn’t meant to be worn by people like me.
I reached up again, my fingers trembling slightly now. Down went another clasp, echoing soundlessly against the ground as Madeleine’s voice droned on and on.
We came to the end of the corridor then only to be met by a set of polished, gleaming stairs. My legs ached. Stairs. So many stairs.
Madeleine moved forward down the steps while I was rooted to the spot like my feet were super-glued to the floor. I stumbled back, hands reaching behind me for the glass of the long decorative table that posed with two velvet cushioned chairs in the hallway in front of one of the windows overlooking the castle gardens. My fingertips met a cool surface and I shifted to the right to ease myself down into one of the chairs.
I sunk into it with a soft sigh and let my eyes fall closed as I tipped my head back against the headrest. Immediately some of the tension eased, evaporated into nothing, giving my lungs more room to breathe. I placed a hand against my uncomfortably swollen belly and began moving it soothingly in small circles back and forth, back and forth. I wish I could stay here like this, without a care in the world. I wish—
“What do you think you’re doing?” Madeleine’s voice came directly above me though I didn’t open my eyes to look at her.
“Sitting.”
Even without meeting her gaze I could hear the irritation laced within her words. “You don’t have time to sit. You need to meet with Liam and the media downstairs in ten minutes.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I don’t care if you want to, you have to.”
“I’m the Queen of Cordonia,” I said. “I don’t have to do anything.”
She huffed as she towered over me with what I could only guess was a disapproving expression. “You know that’s not how this works.”
I hummed. “Are you sure about that?”
“Unlike the rest of your companions, I don’t find this amusing—.” I’d stopped listening after that. It was always the same with Madeleine. She’d tell me to do something, I’d refuse mostly just because I could, and then she would lecture me about my “incivility” and remind me of the importance of my “regal demeanor.” I was a queen and, in her mindset, that meant I was expected to smile and wave and look pretty while keeping my mouth firmly shut.
I slumped further down into the armchair, the light playing against the inside of my eyelids as I let my thoughts wander away from me. The window behind me was propped open slightly, letting the strong scent of freshly mowed grass drift up into the room. I took a deep breath and allowed that seemingly unimportant observation wash over me. It’s funny how something familiar like that can calm you down. It was one of the things I’d learned to cherish more and more over the past year, the little details. The ones that appeared insignificant but in truth were what held everything together at the seams. I sighed. When did things become so complicated?
“Freya?” A new voice cut through my thoughts. Worried, richly masculine, and perfect. Liam. “What happened?”
Madeleine answered before I could, her sharp tone clashing so harshly against his that it almost made me laugh. “Your wife is being effortlessly impossible, per usual.”
Footsteps grew closer. I could feel him kneel down in front of me, his large fingers gripping the armrests at my sides as he searched my face. “Frey?” I opened my eyes to meet his. Concern pinched his eyebrows together. He had the appearance of the refined king, blond hair neatly combed back and white dress shirt stretched across his broad chest invitingly, but the expression of my doting husband and instantly my heart rate settled. “Are you alright?”
“I’m sitting,” I told him.
Liam gave me an amused look. “I can see that.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I placed my hand over his on the chair and he brought my fingers to his mouth, his lips brushing softly against my knuckles. I let my fingertips play across his newly shaved cheek as I matched his gentle look with one of my own. “They’re waiting for us,” he murmured.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to go.”
“Neither do I,” Liam said. “But I don’t think we get much say in the matter.”
“Unfortunately,” I grumbled.
“How about this,” he pressed, Madeleine silently scolding me from behind his shoulder. “We go and finish this one interview, maybe pose for a few photos.” I wrinkled my nose at him. “And afterwards we spend the rest of the evening together, just you and me. No interruptions.”
I leaned forward with bright eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” He smoothed away the wild hairs against my brow to kiss my forehead. “What do you say, My Love?”
A small smirk curved my lips. “I say… you’ve got yourself a deal.”
———
The gentle pressure of Liam’s fingers intertwined with my own was comforting as he led us hand in hand through the palace maze later that day. The press gathering had taken up most of our afternoon so the sun was just beginning to disappear beyond the trimmed hedges, leaving everything in a blinding golden glow. An easy silence enveloped us while we walked; I think we were both grateful for the quiet. It was something we really didn’t get to experience much of anymore.
We wandered for a few more minutes before the path narrowed, opening up to a small clearing ahead and I let out a startled laugh as the sight of a distressed swing hung low on a crooked branch came into view. It had been over a year since I had last been here yet everything looked exactly the same. The overgrown vines, the metal canopy overhead, the grass peeking through the stones of the trail. Warmth spread low in my belly as all the shared memories rushed back.
“You really are a helpless romantic,” I teased as Liam helped me onto the swing. The wood was pale, peeling from old age and use and the ropes burned against my palms as I gripped them tightly.
“I try,” he said with a small smile.
I gave myself an experimental push. “This is where you proposed to me for the first time.”
“It was supposed to be the only time.”
“If your family had gotten their way I wouldn’t even be sitting here today,” I said, causing a distant look to cloud his eyes, and immediately regretted it. It wasn’t Liam’s fault that his parents had disapproved of our relationship. He wasn’t responsible for the actions of other men, even those carried out by his own father.
I nudged him with the tip of my flat to try to lighten the mood. “You seemed nervous that night. I must be extremely intimidating.”
He laughed. “I was terrified.”
“King Liam? Terrified? I find that hard to believe.” I gave myself another push.
“It’s true,” Liam told me. “I knew I was going to propose to you almost immediately after meeting you, Freya. For me it was something set in stone, something as normal as breathing. But for you?” He shook his head slightly and broke eye contact to rub the back of his neck. “I grew up in this environment. Being engaged to a woman I had known for less than a year wasn’t an unusual thought for me, but that wasn’t the case for you.” He stepped closer, fingers gripping the rope of the swing as he hovered above me. “I was sure you were going to say no.”
I stood then and tilted my chin up to meet his gaze. Blue eyes clashed against brown. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath against my cheeks, taste the heat radiating off of his chest in waves.
“And yet here I am,” I whispered while taking one of his hands and laying it over the bump of my stomach.
His irises flared, expression shifting from composed into something soft and vulnerable with every emotion open and out on display. Joy, fear, adoration, nervousness, love. So much love.
“Freya, I—,” he started before I molded my lips against his, cutting him off. I kissed him like I had that night so many months ago, in the same exact spot. Intensely and greedily like I couldn’t get enough of him. Pouring all my thoughts and feelings into a single gesture, taking everything that he was willing to give and giving back just as much. His fingers tangled in my short hair as he pressed his mouth so hard against mine that I was sure it would bruise. My head began to spin. He peppered tiny kisses over my eyelids and brow as I pulled back and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I love you too,” I told him.
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thecomicsnexus · 5 years
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Disordered Minds
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SPIDER-MAN/BATMAN: DISORDERED MINDS SEPTEMBER 1995 BY J. M. DEMATTEIS, MARK BAGLEY, SCOTT HANNA, MARK FARMER AND ELECTRIC CRAYON
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SYNOPSIS (FROM MARVEL DATABASE)
In the beginning of the story, it shows the respective heroes awakening from their nightmares about the death of their loved ones (Spider-Man's sees his uncle Ben Parker murdered and when the killer reveals himself to be the Joker; Batman witnesses the death of his parents at the hands of Carnage) and the reflection on their roles as super-heroes.
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In Ravencroft Institute, Spider-Man is at the institute at the behest of Dr. Ashley Kafka to oversee her attempts to cure Carnage from his mental condition. Despite the high-tech containment system, Carnage breaks free and battles Spider-Man, but is then stunned and reverted back to Cletus Kasady by the institute's heavily armed guards utilizing "microwave guns". Kafka is confused as to how Carnage was able resist the high intense levels of heat wave from his prison that neutralize the symbiote. She determines that the only way to neutralize the symbiote is through Kasady's mind.
Spider-Man and Kafka are then greeted by Cassandra Briar, a behavioral psychologist appointed by congressional committee to deal with people such as Kasady. Briar's solution to Kasady's hostile mentality is to insert a bio-technic computer chip into his body to control and pacify him. However, Kafka and Spider-Man are opposed to Briar's unethical methods. But they are over-ridden by Briar as her method puts an end to Kasady's terror as Carnage. Kafka and Spider-Man have no say to prevent Kasady from undergoing the implant surgery.
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Meanwile, in Gotham City, Batman stops the Joker from unleashing Joker venom-infected bats. Later, at Arkham Asylum, Briar and Kafka are viewing the security footage of an imprisoned Joker from Dr. Arkham's office. Briar consults with Arkham on using her bio-technic chip to solve Joker's insanity. Dr. Arkham is unsure of Briar's method but is convinced when Briar surprisingly shows a pacified and timid Cletus Kasady in handcuffs. Briar fully explains to Arkham that the chip not only calmed Kasady's aggression but subjugated the symbiote into a state of dormancy because, without Kasady's violent emotions, the symbiote had nothing to feed off of and is therefore tamed.
Sometime later, the Joker is implanted with the chip and is displayed along with Kasady in a press conference in front of Arkham Asylum as Briar praises the use of the chip. Afterwards, Briar and a driver escorts Joker and Kasady through Gotham. The driver is uneasy at having the two criminals too closely unguarded. Briar assures him that the two are no longer the men they once were, and that "the Joker and Carnage are dead". As Briar says this, the driver is impaled by Carnage. The symbiote explains to Briar that the chip proves useless in containing him and he has been waiting for the right moment to "explode".
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As the car they are in crashes, Carnage holds both Joker and Briar hostage as the government escorts are at a standstill. A guard then reveals himself to be Batman. Carnage shows Batman that he is entirely different from the usual Batman's Rogue's Gallery nemesis. While Carnage is talking, Spider-Man appears and saves Briar with his webs. Spider-Man and Batman attack Carnage. However, Carnage escapes along with the Joker by shooting shards of tentacles at the guards, forcing the heroes to delay and tend their wounds.
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Later, Batman tells Spider-Man to stop 'helping' and leave the city. Spider-Man protests to him that he only wants to help, but Batman states again that he doesn't need or want his help and then leaves.
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At a warehouse, Carnage manages to destroy the bio-technic chip within the Joker allowing him to be who he was again. Carnage then proposes that he and the Joker should work together. The Joker agrees.
At the Bat Cave, Batman researches Cletus Kasady and realizes that his psyche is too unfathomable to grasp. Batman then decides to leave to "pick up something" after implicitly disrespecting Alfred's finger sandwiches.
Meanwhile, Spider-Man swings across Gotham City and stops an insane mugger from murdering a woman and is then greeted by Batman in his Batmobile who beckons him to come with him.
In Joker's hideout in a abandoned theater, the Crown Prince of Crime explains to Carnage his plan of implanting his Joker virus in hundreds of "Joker-in-the-boxes" and to be given away to "needy tots" as their "Christmas present". However, Carnage argues against the Joker's scheme as "stupid" and prefers the more direct motive of mass-murdering people in the most horrific way. This disgusts the Joker, who proudly proclaims that "style" and "theater" are the better route. The Joker decides that teaming up with Carnage is wrong, comparing him to David Hasselhoff. After infuriating Carnage, Joker makes his leave through a trapdoor. From a safe distance, the Joker uses a remote detonator to destroy his hideout in a massive explosion while Carnage is still inside.
Meanwhile, traveling in the Batmobile, Batman apologizes to Spider-Man for denying his help and that having a friend who knew about Carnage may prove helpful in arresting the symbiote. The two manage to track Carnage's location through a remnant of his chip by tracking its frequency, and discovers the ruined theater. The two discover the body of Carnage but it proves to be a trap, as Carnage grabs hold of Batman, who tells Carnage he'd rather die than submit.
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As Carnage is poised to make the killing blow on Batman, the Joker interrupts and tells Carnage to back off from killing Batman, as he is the only one who has the right to kill "his" Batman. Joker then reveals a Joker-in-the-Box containing the deadly virus, announcing his plans to unleash it immediately. Spider-Man expresses shock at Joker's mindless disregard for human life, while Carnage displays abject fear of being killed, giving Batman the edge in combat with the cowardly villain. Spider-Man then snatches the Joker-in-the-Box from the Joker with his webshooter, as Batman subdues a "weak-minded" Carnage into submission, forcing him to revert back to Kasady. Spider-Man tracks down Joker and grabs hold of him, and threatens to kill him, which delights Joker, who is eager at the chance at driving a "goody two shoes" into cold-blooded murder. Spider-Man relents, releasing Joker, and taking him down with a punch, knocking him into unconsciousness.
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With the defeat of both Carnage and the Joker, both Batman and Spider-Man thank each other, wordlessly with a handshake. Spider-Man swings off, returning to New York, as Batman watches over Gotham.
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REVIEW
That “chili-con-carnage” Joke will stay with me forever.
There are two things to admire in this book. One is the engraved cover, the other one is Mark Bagley’s art. But the story itself is just an excuse to do the cross-over. It is also a bit too naive to think that the symbiote wouldn’t resist something like that chip.
J. M. DeMatteis has experience with both characters, but his Batman is usually played for comedic effect, something that works better in Spider-man. As a result, we have a very lonely and sometimes cruel Batman.
But even with the characterizations, the story has a great premise and ends without any messages, themes or concepts. At least for the “lobotomy” plot. Both Batman and Spider-man are victims of gun violence, and are doing this to save others from the trauma they lived through. It would have been better if the main plot revolved about that.
I give this story a score of 8
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gaysparklepires · 6 years
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8. Waiting For the Damn Fight to Start Already
Read on AO3
BOOK TWO
Jacob
And yet, to say the truth,
Reason and love keep little company together nowadays.
William Shakespeare
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Act III, scene i
PREFACE
Life sucks, and then you die.
Yeah, I should be so lucky.
“Jeez, Paul, don’t you freaking have a home of your own?”
Paul, lounging across mywhole couch, watching some stupid baseball game on mycrappy TV, just grinned at me and then—real slow—he lifted one Dorito from the bag in his lap and wedged it into his mouth in one piece.
“You better’ve brought those with you.”
Crunch. “Nope,” he said while chewing. “Your sister said to go ahead and help myself to anything I wanted.”
I tried to make my voice sound like I wasn’t about to punch him. “Is Rachel here now?”
It didn’t work. He heard where I was going and shoved the bag behind his back. The bag crackled as he smashed it into the cushion. The chips crunched into pieces. Paul’s hands came up in fists, close to his face like a boxer.
“Bring it, kid. I don’t need Rachel to protect me.”
I snorted. “Right. Like you wouldn’t go crying to her first chance.”
He laughed and relaxed into the sofa, dropping his hands. “I’m not going to tattle to your sister. If you got in a lucky hit, that would be just between the two of us. And vice versa, right?”
Nice of him to give me an invitation. I made my body slump like I’d given up. “Right.”
His eyes shifted to the TV.
I lunged.
His nose made a satisfying crunching sound of its own when my fist connected. He tried to grab me, but I danced out of the way before he could find a hold, the ruined bag of Doritos in my left hand.
“You broke my nose, idiot.”
“Just between us, right Paul?”
I went to put the chips away. When I turned around, Paul was repositioning his nose before it could set crooked. The blood had already stopped; it looked like it had no source as it tricked down his lips and off his chin. He cussed, wincing as he pulled at the cartilage.
“You are such a pain, Jacob. I swear, I’d rather hang out with Liam.”
“Ouch. Wow, I bet Liam’s really going to love to hear that you want to spend some quality time with him. It’ll just warm the cockles of his heart.”
“You’re going to forget I said that.”
“Of course. I’m sure it won’t slip out.”
“Ugh,” he grunted, and then settled back into the couch, wiping the leftover blood on the collar of his t-shirt. “You’re fast, kid, I’ll give you that.” He turned his attention back to the fuzzy game.
I stood there for a second, and then I stalked off to my room, muttering about alien abductions.
Back in the day, you could count on Paul for a fight pretty much whenever. You didn’t have to hit him then—any mild insult would do. It didn’t take a lot to flip him out of control. Now, of course, when I really wanteda good snarling, ripping, break-the-trees-down math, he had to be all mellow.
Wasn’t it bad enough that yet another member of the pack had found someone—because, really, that made four of ten now! When would it stop? It’s like they were falling in love on purpose just to kick me when I was already down!
And did it have to be mysister? Did it have to be Paul?
When Rachel’d come home from Washington State at the end of the summer semester—graduated early, the nerd—my biggest worry’d been that it would be hard keeping the secret around her. I wasn’t used to covering things up in my own home. It made me real sympathetic to guys like Embry and Collin, whose parents didn’t know they were werewolves.Embry’s mom thought he was going through some kind of rebellious stage. He was permanently grounded for constantly sneaking out, but, of course, there wasn’t much he could do about that. She’d check his room every night, and every night it would be empty again. She’d yell and he’d take it in silence, and then go through it all again the next day. We’d tried to talk Sam into giving Embry a break and letting his mom in on the gig, but Embry’d said he didn’t mind. The secret was too important.
So I’d been all geared up to be keeping that secret. And then, two days after Rachel got home, Paul ran into her on the beach, they got to talking, laughing and bada bing, bada boom—true love! No secrets necessary when you found your other half, right? They’d hit it off so well that I swear they were already thinking about marriage—marriage!Stupid.
Rachel got the whole story. And I got Paul as a potential brother-in-law someday. I knew Billy wasn’t much thrilled about it, either. But he handled it better than I did. ’Course, he did escape to the Clearwaters’ more often than usual these days. I didn’t see where that was so much better. No Paul, but plenty of Liam.
I wondered—would a bullet through my temple actually kill me or just leave a really big mess for me to clean up?
I threw myself down on the bed. I was tired—hadn’t slept since my last patrol—but I knew I wasn’t going to sleep. My head was too crazy. The thoughts bounced around inside my skull like a disoriented swarm of bees. Noisy. Now and then they stung. Must be hornets, not bees. Bees died after one sting. And the same thoughts were stinging me again and again.
This waiting was driving me insane. It had been almost four weeks. I’d expected, one way or another, the news would have come by now. I’d sat up nights imagining what form it would take.
Charlie sobbing on the phone—Beau and his new husband lost in an accident. A plane crash? That would be hard to fake. Unless the leeches didn’t mind killing a bunch of bystanders to authenticate it, and why would they? Maybe a small plane instead. They probably had one of those to spare.
Or would the murderer come home alone, unsuccessful in his attempt to make Beau one of them? Or not even getting that far. Maybe he’d smashed him like a bag of chips in his drive to get some? Because Beau’s life was less important to him than his own pleasure...
I shook my head, trying not to think about that. I still felt bad about that night at the wedding. It hadn’t been any of my business, ‘course. But I just couldn’t even imagine Beau would wantthat? Who wants to slide into bed with an ice-cold rock? I’d over reacted, I’d been an idiot. Obviously, I was worried about Beau’s safety, sure. But there was the other side of it. I couldn’t stop myself from being jealous about it—about Beau beingwith that bloodsucker like that… I needed to stop thinking about it.
The story would be so tragic—Beau lost in a horrible accident. Victim of a mugging gone wrong. Choking to death at dinner. A car accident, like my mom. So common. Happened all the time.
Would the leech bring Beau home? Bury him here for Charlie? Closed-casket ceremony, of course. My mom’s coffin had been nailed shut....
I could only hope that the bloodsucker would come back here, within my reach.
Maybe there would be no story at all. Maybe Charlie would call to ask my dad if he’d heard anything from Dr. Cullen, who just didn’t show up to work one day. The house abandoned. No answer on any of the Cullens’ phones. The mystery picked up by some second-rate news program, foul play suspected...
Maybe the big white house would burn to the ground, everyone trapped inside. Of course, they’d need bodies for that one. Eight humans of roughly the right size. Burned beyond recognition—beyond the help of dental records.
Either of those would be tricky—for me, that is. It would be hard to find them if they didn’t want to be found. Of course, I had forever to look. If you had forever, you could check out every single piece of straw in the haystack, one by one, to see if it was the needle.
Right now, I wouldn’t mind dismantling a haystack. At least that would be something to do. I hated knowing that I could be losing my chance. Giving the bloodsuckers the time to escape, if that was their plan.
We could go tonight. We could kill every one of them that we could find.
I liked that plan because I knew Edward well enough to know that, if I killed any one of his coven, I would get my chance at him, too. He’d come for revenge. And I’d give it to him—I wouldn’t let my brothers take him down as a pack. It would be just him and me. May the better man win.
But Sam wouldn’t hear of it. We’re not going to break the treaty. Let them make the first breach.Just because we had no proof that the Cullens had done anything wrong. Yet. You had to add the yet, because we all knew it was inevitable. Even though Beau said he had no plans on becoming a bloodsucker, we knew. Beau was either coming back one of them, or not coming back. Either way, a human life would be lost. And that meant game on.
In the other room, Paul brayed like a mule. Maybe he’d switched to a comedy. Maybe the commercial was funny. Whatever. It grated on my nerves.
I thought about breaking his nose again. But it wasn’t Paul I wanted to fight with. Not really.
I tried to listen to other sounds, the wind in the trees. It wasn’t the same, not through human ears. There were a million voices in the wind that I couldn’t hear in this body.
But these ears were sensitive enough. I could hear past the trees, to the road, the sounds of the cars coming around that last bend where you could finally see the beach—the vista of the islands and the rocks and the big blue ocean stretching to the horizon. The La Push cops liked to hang out right around there. Tourists never noticed the reduced speed limit sign on the other side of the road.
I could hear the voices outside the souvenir shop on the beach. I could hear the cowbell clanging as the door opened and closed. I could hear Embry’s mom at the cash register, printing out a receipt.
I could hear the tide raking across the beach rocks. I could hear the kids squeal as the icy water rushed in too fast for them to get out of the way. I could hear the moms complain about the wet clothes. And I could hear a familiar voice....
I was listening so hard that the sudden burst of Paul’s donkey laugh made me jump half off the bed.
“Get out of my house,” I grumbled. Knowing he wouldn’t pay any attention, I followed my own advice. I wrenched open my window and climbed out the back way so that I wouldn’t see Paul again. It would be too tempting. I knew I would hit him again, and Rachel was going to be pissed enough already. She’d see the blood on his shirt, and she’d blame me right away without waiting for proof. Of course, she’d be right, but still.
I paced down to the shore, my fists in my pockets. Nobody looked at me twice when I went through the dirt lot by First Beach. That was one nice thing about summer—no one cared if you wore nothing but shorts.
I followed the familiar voice I’d heard and found Quil easy enough. He was on the south end of the crescent, avoiding the bigger part of the tourist crowd. He kept up a constant stream of warnings.
“Keep out of the water, Claire. C’mon. No, don’t. Oh! Nice, kid. Seriously, do you want Elise to yell at me? I’m not bringing you back to the beach again if you don’t—Oh, yeah? Don’t—ugh. You think that’s funny, do you? Hah! Who’s laughing now, huh?”
He had the giggling toddler by the ankle when I reached them. She had a bucket in one hand, and her jeans were drenched. He had a huge wet mart down the front of his t-shirt.
“Five bucks on the baby girl,” I said.
“Hey, Jake.”
Claire squealed and threw her bucket at Quil’s knees. “Down, down!”
He set her carefully on her feet and she ran to me. She wrapped her arms around my leg.
“Uncle Jay!”
“How’s it going, Claire?”
She giggled. “Quil aaaaall wet now.”
“I can see that. Where’s your mama?”
“Gone, gone, gone,” Claire sang, “Gonna play with Quil all day. Never gonna go home!” She let go of me and ran to Quil. He scooped her up and slung her onto his shoulders.
“Sounds like somebody’s hit the terrible twos.”
“Threes actually,” Quil corrected. “You missed the party. Princess theme. She made me wear a crown, and then Elise and Emily suggested they all try out her new play makeup on me.”
“Wow, I’mreallysorry I wasn’t around to see that.”
“Don’t worry, Emily has pictures. Actually, I look pretty hot.”
“You’re such an idiot.”
Quil shrugged. “Claire had a great time. That was the point.”
I rolled my eyes. It was hard being around such happy people. No matter what stage they were in—about to tie the knot like Sam or just teen-werewolf-turned-future-stepdad like Quil—the peace and contentedness they always radiated was downright puke-inducing.
Claire squealed on his shoulders and pointed at the ground. “Pretty rock, Quil! For me, for me!”
“Which one kiddo? The red one?”
“No red!”
Quil dropped to his knees—Claire screamed and pulled his hair like a horse’s reigns.
“This blue one?”
“No, no, no….,” the little girl sang, thrilled with her new game.
The weird part was, Quil was having just as much fun as she was. He didn’t have that face on that so many of the tourist dads and moms were wearing—the when-is-nap-time? Face. You never saw a real parent so jazzed to play whatever stupid kiddie sport their rugrat could think up. I’d seen Quil play peekaboo for an hour straight without getting bored.
And I couldn’t even make fun of him for it—I envied him too much.
Emily’s sister, Elise, had moved to La Push from the Makah reservation to stay with her older sister pretty recently. Elise had gotten pregnant by her high school boyfriend and he immediately skipped out on her, so Emily took her in. Elise had Claire, and everyone sort of pitched in to help raise her since Elise was so young. She and Quil are about the same age so they got along pretty well. One thing led to another, and, well, here we are.
I didn’t envy the idea of being a teenage werewolf dad, but Quil couldn’t have been happier. He had Elise and they had Claire. One big happy family before high school graduation, I guess.
“Quil, you ever think maybe it’s all too much?”
“Huh?”
“No, no yellow!” Claire crowed.
“You know. I mean, Elise is cool, but a kid? Already? Don’t you ever want to just… not have that responsibility? Try dating someone else?”
Quil just stared at me.
“Pretty rock! Pretty rock!” Claire screamed when he didn’t offer her another choice. She smacked him on the head with her little fist.
“Sorry, Claire-bear. How about this purple one?”
“No,” she giggled. “No purple.”
“Give me a clue. I’m begging, kid.”
Claire thought it over. “Green,” she finally said.
Quil stared at the rocks, studying them. He picked four rocks in different shades of green and offered them to her.
“Did I get it?”
“Yay!”
“Which one?”
“All of them!”
She cupped her hands and he poured the small rocks into them. She laughed and immediately clunked him on the head with them. He winced theatrically and then got to his feet and started walking back up toward the parking lot. Probably worried about her getting cold in her wet clothes. He was worse than any paranoid, overprotective parent.
“Sorry if I was being a jerk, man, about the whole dating thing,” I said.
“Naw, that’s cool,” Quil said. “I get what you mean. Who would have guessed I’d be the one to be a dad so soon, right?”
“Not me, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Jake.” He shrugged. “Me and Elise, we just clicked. You know? And Claire is great. I’m happy, man. I don’t even notice any other girls anymore, you know. I don’t see their faces.”
“If you say so,” I sighed. “Though, put that together with the tiara and the makeup, and maybe Elise will have a different kind of competition to worry about.”
Quil laughed and made kissing noises at me. “You available this Friday, Jacob?”
“You wish,” I said, and then I made a face. “Yeah, guess I am, though.”
He hesitated a second then said, “You ever think about… moving on? Dating?”
I sighed. I guess I’d opened myself up for that one.
“You know, Jake, maybe you should think about getting a life.”
He didn’t say it like a joke. His voice was sympathetic. That made it worse.
“I don’t see anyone else, either, Quil. I don’t see their faces.”
Quil sighed, too. “At some point, man, you just gotta grow up a little and embrace the life you’ve got.”
I stared at him, annoyed. That was the last thing I wanted. This life sucked. I’d trade it for just about anything.
He continued, “Because, and I might be wrong, but I think there’s happiness waiting right under your nose. You just gotta see it, you know?”
I shrugged, and turned away. He sighed again.
Far away, too low for anyone but just us two to hear it over the waves, a howl rose out of the forest.
“Dang, that’s Sam,” Quil said. His hands flew up to touch Claire, as if to make sure she was still there. “I don’t know where Elise’s at!”
“I’ll see what it is. If we need you, I’ll let you know.” I raced through the words. They came out all slurred together. “Hey, why don’t you take Claire up to the Clearwaters’? Sue and Billy can keep an eye on her if they need to. They might know what’s going on, anyway.”
“Okay—get outta here, Jake!”
I took off running, not for the dirt path through the weedy hedge, but in the shortest line toward the forest. I hurdled the first line of driftwood and then ripped my way through the briars, still running. I felt the little tears as the thorns cut into my skin, but I ignored them. Their sting would be healed before I made the trees.
I cut behind the store and darted across the highway. Somebody honked at me. Once in the safety of the trees, I ran faster, taking longer strides. People would stare if I was out in the open. Normal people couldn’t run like this. Sometimes I thought it might be fun to enter a race—you know, like the Olympic trials or something. It would be cool to watch the expressions on those star athletes’ faces when I blew by them. Only I was pretty sure the testing they did to make sure you weren’t on steroids would probably turn up some really freaky crap in my blood.
As soon as I was in the true forest, unbound by roads or houses, I skidded to a stop and kicked my shorts off. With quick, practiced moves, I rolled them up and tied them to the leather cord around my ankle. As I was still pulling the ends tight, I started shifting. The fire trembled down my spine, throwing tight spasms out along my arms and legs. It only took a second. The heat flooded through me, and I felt the silent shimmer that made me something else. I threw my heavy paws against the matted earth and stretched my back in one long, rolling extension.
Phasing was very easy when I was centered like this. I didn’t have issues with my temper anymore. Except when it got in the way.
For one half second, I again remembered the awful moment at the wedding. I’d been so insane with fury that I couldn’t make my body work right. I’d been trapped, shaking and burning, unable to make the change but unable to calm down. It had been so confusing. Dying to kill him. Afraid to hurt Beau. My friends in the way. And then, when I was finally able to shift, the order from my leader. The edict from the Alpha. If it had been just Embry and Quil there that night without Sam... would I have attacked that bloodsucker then and there?
I hated it when Sam laid down the law like that. I hated the feeling of having no choice. Of having to obey.
And then I was conscious of an audience. I was not alone in my thoughts.
So self-abosrbed all the time, Liam thought.
Yeah, no hypocrisy there, Liam,I thought back.
Can it, guys,Same told us.
We fell silent, and I felt Liam’s wince at Sam’s words. Touchy, like always.
Sam pretended no to notice. Where’s Quil and Jared?
Quil’s got Claire. He’s taking her to the Clearwaters’.
Good. Sue will take her.
Jared was going to Kim’s, Embry thought, Good chance he didn’t hear you.
There was a low grumble through the pack. I moaned along with them. When Jared finally showed up, no doubt he’d still be thinking about Kim. And nobody wanted a replay of what they were up to right now.
Sam sat back on his haunches and let another howl rip into the air. It was a signal and an order in one.
The pack was gathered a few miles east of where I was. I loped through the thick forest toward them. Liam, Embry, and Paul all were working in toward them, too. Liam was close—soon I could hear his footfalls not far into the woods. We continued in a parallel line, choosing not to run together.
Well, we’re not waiting all day for him. He’ll just have to catch up later.
’Sup, boss? Paul wanted to know.
We need to talk. Something’s happened.
I felt Sam’s thoughts flicker to me—and not just Sam’s, but Seth’s and Collin’s and Brady’s as well. Collin and Brady—the new kids—had been running patrol with Sam today, so they would know whatever he knew. I didn’t know why Seth was already out here, and in the know. It wasn’t his turn.
Seth, tell them what you heard.
I sped up, wanting to be there. I heard Liam move faster, too. He hated being outrun. Being the fastest was the only edge he claimed.
Claim this, moron, he hissed, and then he really kicked it into gear. I dug my nails into the loam and shot myself forward.
Sam didn’t seem in the mood to put up with our usual crap. Jake, Liam, give it a rest.
Neither of us slowed.
Sam growled, but let it go. Seth?
Charlie called around till he found Billy at my house.
Yeah, I talked to him, Paul added.
I felt a jolt go through me as Seth thought Charlie’s name. This was it. The waiting was over. I ran faster, forcing myself to breathe, though my lungs felt kinda stiff all of a sudden.
Which story would it be?
So he’s all flipped out. Guess Edward and Beau got home last week, and...
My chest eased up.
Beau was alive. Or he wasn’t dead dead, at least.
I hadn’t realized how much difference it would make to me. I’d been thinking of him as dead this whole time, and I only saw that now. I saw that I’d never believed that he would bring Beau back alive. It shouldn’t matter, because I knew what was coming next.
Yeah, bro, and here’s the bad news. Charlie talked to Beau, said he sounded bad. he told Charlie’s he’s sick. Carlisle got on and told Charlie that Beau picked up some rare disease in South America. Said he’s quarantined. Charlie’s going crazy, ’cause even he’s not allowed to see Beau. Charlie says he doesn’t care if he gets sick, but Carlisle wouldn’t bend. No visitors. Told Charlie it was pretty serious, but that he’s doing everything he can. Charlie’s been stewing about it for days, but he only called Billy now. He said Beau sounded worse today.
The mental silence when Seth finished was profound. We all understood.
So he would die of this disease, as far as Charlie knew. Would they let him view the corpse? The pale, perfectly still, unbreathing white body? They couldn’t let him touch the cold skin—he might notice how hard it was. They’d have to wait until Beau could hold still, could keep from killing Charlie and the other mourners. How long would that take?
Would they bury him? Would he dig himself out, or would the bloodsuckers come for him?
The others listened to my speculating in silence. I’d put a lot more thought into this than any of them.
Liam and I entered the clearing at nearly the same time. He was sure his nose led the way, though. He dropped onto his haunches beside his brother while I trotted forward to stand at Sam’s right hand. Paul circled and made room for me in my place.
Beat’cha again, Liam thought, but I barely heard him.
I wondered why I was the only one on my feet. My fur stood up on my shoulders, bristling with impatience.
Well, what are we waiting for? I asked.
No one said anything, but I heard their feelings of hesitation.
Oh, come on! The treaty’s broken!
We have no proof—maybe he is sick....
OH, PLEASE!
Okay, so the circumstantial evidence is pretty strong. Still... Jacob. Sam’s thought came slow, hesitant. Are you sure this is what you want? Is it really the right thing? We all know what he wanted.
The treaty doesn’t mention anything about victim preferences, Sam!
Is he really a victim? Would you label him that way?
Yes! Besides, Beau wanted to stay human! He told me so!
Sam considered this for a moment. We can’t attack the Cullens without proof that the treaty has been violated. We don’t know if this illness is a ruse or not.
It’s totally a lie!
Enough, Jacob!Sam snapped.
Jake, Seth thought, they aren’t our enemies.
Shut up, kid! Just ’cause you’ve got some kind of sick hero worship thing going on with that bloodsucker, it doesn’t change the law. They are our enemies. They are in our territory. We take them out. I don’t care if you had fun fighting alongside Edward Cullen once upon a time.
You’re upset, man. You’re not thinking clearly and you’re going to do something stupid.
I’m not going to do anything stupid, Seth.
Sure you won’t. You’re not ready for this fight, Jacob.
Instinct took over and I crouched forward, snarling at the gangly sand-colored wolf across the circle.
Jacob! Sam cautioned. Seth, shut up for a second. Seth nodded his big head.
Dang, what’d I miss? Quil thought. He was running for the gathering place full-out. Heard about Charlie’s call....
We’re getting ready to go, I told him. Why don’t you swing by Kim’s and drag Jared out with your teeth? We’re going to need everyone.
Come straight here, Quil, Sam ordered. We’ve decided nothing yet.
I growled.
We need to find out if the treaty has been broken before we make any decision. I have to think about what’s best for this pack. I have to choose the course that protects you all best.
This is B.S., and you know it. I growled.
Enough, Jacob. You’re overruled. Sam’s mental voice changed, took on that strange double timbre that we could not disobey. The voice of the Alpha. He met the gaze of every wolf in the circle.
The pack is not attacking the Cullens without provocation. We will determine if the treaty has been broken—well and truly violated—before we attack our former allies.
Hear, hear, Seth thought enthusiastically.
I thought I told you to shut it, Seth.
Oops. Sorry, Sam.
Jacob, where do you think you’re going?
I left the circle, moving toward the west so that I could turn my back on him. I’m going to find out what we already know—that they’re going to turn Beau into one of them. I’m going to get this damn fight started.
Aw, Jake—Come on!
Shut up, Seth, several voices thought together.
Jacob, we understand this is difficult for you, we don’t want this to be any more difficult than it already is, Sam told me, his thought softer than before.
So force me to stay, Sam. Take away my will. Make me a slave.
You know I won’t do that.
Then I’m going.
Fine, Jacob. But if you find out Beau is still human, once you determine that the treaty hasn’t been broken, you come straight back.
No, after I find out I’m leaving again.
I ran away from them, trying very hard not to think about what was next. Instead, I concentrated on my memories of the long wolf months, of letting the humanity bleed out of me until I was more animal than man. Living in the moment, eating when hungry, sleeping when tired, drinking when thirsty, and running—running just to run. Simple desires, simple answers to those desires. Pain came in easily managed forms. The pain of hunger. The pain of cold ice under your paws. The pain of cutting claws when dinner got feisty. Each pain had a simple answer, a clear action to end that pain.
Not like being human.
Yet, as soon as I was in jogging distance of my house, I shifted back into my human body. I needed to be able to think in privacy.
I untied my shorts and yanked them on, already running for the house.
I’d done it. I’d hidden what I was thinking and now it was too late for Sam to stop me. He couldn’t hear me now.
Sam had made a very clear ruling. We would determine if the treaty had been broken. The pack would not attack the Cullens. Okay.
He hadn’t mentioned an individual acting alone.
Nope, the pack wasn’t attacking anyone today.
But I was.
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Cupid and Kisses
“This goddamn Cupid.. what’s up with him Cas?” Dean asked, hiding in an alley from a Cupid aiming his arrows at people. He looked like a normal person, except for that he was flicking his wrist at people, right beofre they’d go insane and start eating somebody. Sam was off getting beers when there was an attack in the neighboring town the opposite way of Sam, so Cas and Dean hurried away in the next best ride.
A motorcycle.
Although, as Dean quickly learned, the great Castiel didn’t know how to ride a motorcycle. “Alright, hop on.” Dean has told him, helping the ungraceful angel onto the bike. “Okay, now here, give me your hands,” Cas did as he was told, as Dean held the ex-angels hands to his own hips. He immediately stiffened up, but didn’t say anything about it. “Come on man, grip like that youre gonna fly off the damn bike. Hold onto my waist, we’re gonna be going fast.” Once again trying to instruct the ex-angels hands, Dean gave up. He’ll figure it out soon enough.
When the motorcycle began to speed up, Castiel quickly grabbed onto Dean harder, and Dean smiled that he had been right. He had began to wrap all the way around Dean, for fear of flying off.
“No, no I don’t understand why he’s going rouge.”
They watched as Cupid flicked his wrist at random people walking down the street. A boy and a girl going separate ways stopped in their tracks. They looked at each other from across the street, ran towards each other, then started making out, which soon turned into literally eating each other.
The Cupid turned to a couple who was walking by the side of the road, holding hands. He aimed at them, then tilt his head and aimed somewhere else.
“It appears he’s aiming for people who are single, those in a relationship are left alone.” Dean got an idea, and grabbed Cas’ hand.
“Get out your blade,” Dean said, not looking over at a very confused Castiel, “that’s what kills them. Angel blades.”
“And how do you suppose we do that? We must find a way to get closer to him beofre we-“
Dean watched the Cupid aim at another person, and he pulled Cas out from hiding. Together they ran, hand in hand, to the Cupid. “Hey!” Dean yelled, getting the attention of Cupid. Cas gave Dean a look, showing how stupid this plan was.
When the Cupid looked to them, he smiled and raised his hand. Dean pulled Cas in, and kissed him hard. They stayed like that for a few seconds, before pulling away. Still looking at Cas, who was frozen in his place, Dean shout; “cant shoot us now!”
Looking back to the Cupid, he put down his hand and shook his head, “no, no you two aren’t together! It’s against heavens rules!”
“Well uh, don’t take this personally but, heaven can bite me. Cas!”
Immediately snapping out of his trance, Cas let go of his blade, letting it fall down his coat and into his hand. Leaping at the Cupid, he sunk the blade into his chest, quickly making it fall to the ground with a scream.
People were beginning to look over at them, but Dean pointed to the couples eatting each other. “Somebody call the police!” He yelled, making everyone aware of the situation.
Screams came next, as the couples were snapped out of their trance, and spit out the piece of each other in their mouths. They too began yelling, as they reached for their shoulders with chunks bitten out.
“Come on, we better get out of here.” Dean grabbed Cas’ hand, and they ran to his motorcycle. “The police can take it from here, the victims didn’t look too bad. We gotta get.” Dean said, as if reading Cas mind. Jumping on the motorcycle, they began driving off back to the bunker.
After an hour long, silent, ride, they found their way back to the garage. When they came in, Sam rounded the corner with a gun in his hand. In a quick movement, he sighed, and put away his gun. “Where did you guys go?”
“There was a Cupid couple miles that way, he was active, we had to go.” Dean explained, as Sam dug a coin from his pocket.
Handing the silver coin to Dean, he hand it to Cas, who took it and gave it back to Sam. When Sam put it away, he gave them holy water, which they took a swig of. “It’s us.” Cas said, the first words he spoke since Cupid.
“So, you got the Cupid all worked out then?”
“Yeah, he was only hitting single people.”
Sam scrunched up his eye brows, as they went to the kitchen. “How’d you get close to him then?”
Dean and Cas shared a look, before Dean grabbed two beers and handing them out. “We’re just that good.”
Easily catching on to what happened, Sam dropped it and grabbed his beer. Taking his ipad, he went into his room, leaving Cas and Dean alone in the kitchen. “Nice job out there Cas, I know being human is hard, and especially going on hunts while being human so,” he met Cas’ eyes, “you did good out there.”
“Thank you, Dean. Same to you. Good..” he thought of how to put it, “quick thinking.”
Dean let out a small laugh, “thanks. I’ve never thought of that before,” Cas looked away from Dean, as Dean tried to figure out how to work this conversation, “nice playing along.”
“Thank you.” The two awkwardly drink their beer, and think of their next words.
After about two minutes of this, Dean knew it was too late in the game to walk away now, so he stayed there until he finished his beer. “You know what, I need something a bit stronger. Come on, let’s get out.”
“What? Why?” Cas asked, surprised at the sudden movement.
“Come on man, you’re human and you just got your first hunt done. We deserve it!” Dean said, throwing away his beer. Cas stood up, awkwardly following Dean, who wrote a post-it note for Sam telling him where they were. When they got in the car, Dean was quick to start playing music, and they listened to it in a static silence.
“The last time I got drunk was.. strange.” Cas said, watching the window.
“Yeah well.. that was angel you. This is human you. With human.. features? I don’t know, you’ll probably react differently.” Dean said, finally turning into a bar.
“And if I don’t?”
“Nobody can be around me and be an angry drunk. Just doesn’t happen.” He found a parking spot, and smiled over at Cas. “Come on, let’s go.”
The two walked into the bar, and sat at a table in the middle of the room. “Dean Winchester, usual?” The bartender asked. He recognized Dean, since he was almost always here.
“Yeah, except after a few beers, start bringing over the fun stuff.” Dean smiled at him as he crossed his arms and smiled.
“Ah alright! Comin’ right up.” He walked away, getting Dean’s food ready.
“Usual?” Cas asked.
“I’m here so much, they’ve memorized what I ‘usually’ eat.” As Dean explained a few more things, the man walked over and set a plate of nachos and two beers in front of the men.
“Thanks Richie.”
“No problem, enjoy.” He went back to tending the bar, as the friends ate and drank.
Per request, after two beers he started coming over with shots of whiskey
Once they had some good alcohol and food in them, Dean asked a question. “Whats wrong Cas?”
“Oh, nothing.” Cas said, waving him off and taking another chip. They were at the bottom, and were ready for more shots.
“Cas, come on, don’t lie.”
After a few seconds, Cas sighed and shrugged dramatically. “I can’t figure you out.”
“What?” Dean asked, confused by the answer.
“Sam I use to, whoosh, and know what he’s thinking. I know who he likes, I know Sam well. You? Pshh,” the drinks were obviously getting to him. Anyone else with this little drinking experience would be passed out, but Cas was six feet tall and older than most. It took a bit more for him to get completely out of it.
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
“And now without my magic it’s even harder to figure you out. I just,” Cas reached out for his empty shot glass, then knocked it over upon realizing its lack of contents. “I don’t know. Sam makes it obvious who he likes. Not you though. Just when I think I’ve got you figured out, you kiss me, and I’m like, yo, then I’m confused again.”
“And uh, what do you think about me before the kiss.”
“Convinced myself you’re straight. Even though when I was rebuilding you, you seemed gay, but it’s all girls, boobs, butts, lady-bits when I can’t see your soul. And I can feel longings, I told you that, and you’d constantly long for me, and I’m like, I think he likes me, then you’re like boobs boobs boobs and I’m like what.” Cas looked around, a glossy film over his eyes.
“Alright, I think you’ve had enough.” Dean reaches into his wallet and pulls out enough money for the food and tip.
On the drive home, Dean felt Cas’ eyes on him the whole time. He finally shut his eyes to go to sleep, when he said “I don’t understand you, Dean Winchester.”
(Part 2? Maybe?)
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“There was nothing left to say.”
Countryside, England, United Kingdom – May 1842
 ~Barrington~
 When I arrived at the manor and Old Ted told me that Dia was nowhere to be found, I felt like I was twelve years old again. And this feeling only strengthened when I walked through the numerous secret passages and rooms of Phantomhive Manor to find her.
But back then, I had searched for Si and had not known where to go, what was where.
And in a way, I still didn’t.
 I had come unannounced, had planned to hold a small surprise party for Dia to celebrate the success of her first case: the defeat of John Francis’ attempt to take Her Majesty the Queen’s life. But Dia was her father’s daughter and loved to hide and be alone. And so, again, I had to search for a Phantomhive.
I doubted that it would ever stop, was certain that I would walk after them for the rest of my life. I didn’t mind.
After all, my life revolved around them ever since Genevieve had invited me to Phantomhive Manor all those years ago.
 Genevieve Phantomhive had been a wonderful woman. Strong and intelligent, the Phantomhive household’s iron lady, a mother who had loved her son more than anything else. And despite the fact that her husband Percival had barely been there, Genevieve had never stopped to love him unconditionally.
Due to Percival’s constant absence, Genevieve had raised Simon mostly on her own and had done so with a lot of patience and love. And you needed a lot of patience when it came to Simon. Si who had been so anxious, had been so shy and insecure. But despite anything, Si had the remarkable talent to learn things thoroughly as long as he was alone and received the time he needed. Even if he did not enjoy what he was doing.
And so, it had come that he had managed to beat me in a swordsmanship competition, ridiculing me in front of everybody. And so it had come that Genevieve being Genevieve had invited me to Phantomhive Manor right afterwards – not because she had wanted to laugh at me, but because she had genuinely hoped that I might manage to befriend her son.
And what had followed had been a friendship filled with searches, secret passages, and burdens. Burdens we had carried together; burdens we had faced all alone.
  Barrington navigated through the familiar corridors, smiling sadly when the memories of the time he had spent here with Simon returned. How often had he followed his friend to these corridors? How long had it taken until he had not come to get him but to join him? To hide with him from the world?
Barrington sighed at his memories.
  My life was marked by failures; my friendship with Simon had started and ended with failure, and so had many other things in my life.
Therefore, I had sworn to make everything right with Dia. I did not want to fail another Phantomhive; I did not want to fail another person who meant so much to me. But my oath had crumbled so quickly, so easily. First, the system, then, the slow, gradual alienation.
I had no idea what had happened, did not think that Dia had noticed that I had, but I had the feeling that it was all her doing. But I also knew that it was mine too. Because, as it seemed, all I could do was fail.
  An hour passed and Cloudia was still unfindable, but Barrington did not panic and just kept on going. She was here somewhere. He knew it; he would find her.
And while he walked and searched, looked and wandered, Barrington eventually noticed where his feet were carrying him: to Simon’s favourite hidden room. With a faint smile and memories filling his mind, Barrington approached the room.
  The last time, I had gone there had been on the day of Si’s funeral. After it had ended, I had sneaked into this room which had always felt more like Simon than his own bedroom.
But when I had entered it on that day, the room, which had always been stuffed with paper and pens and all sorts of things, had been empty. Afterwards, I had never been able to ask Penelope where she had put the things – the things which had been here, once upon a time, when the sky had been bluer than it was now.
  When Barrington opened the door, it was almost as if he was looking into the past – a room covered in paper, a Phantomhive in its centre – but instead of scribbles, the papers were filled with notes or were parts from newspapers, and instead of being met by green eyes, he was met by blue ones when Cloudia turned around, a pencil in her hand and surprise painted on her face.
  Oh, my dear girl.
  ***
  Somewhere, England, United Kingdom – April 1848
 ~Cloudia~
  Ever since I could remember, there was a labyrinth in the garden of Phantomhive Manor.
  ***
  Upon seeing the little girl with the dark blue eyes, I closed my eyes, counted from ten downwards again, and pinched myself – and I wondered what I preferred: having become insane or the girl being real.
When I reopened my eyes, the little girl still stood in front of me, and I knew for certain that I was not imagining it, that I was not dreaming all this – and fear and panic found their ways to me and crept among my thoughts.
  “You don’t look good,” the little girl with the dark blue eyes said. “One time my cousin ate dirt. I don’t know why but she did it. It was gross, and she looked just like you.”
Slowly, Cloudia stood up, not taking another look at the creature which should not be.
“Did you eat something wrong?”
Cloudia turned around and started to walk away. The girl just followed her. “Do you know where you are going?” she asked.
  Go away.
  “I am afraid,” the blue-eyed girl said. “Are you afraid?”
Cloudia quickened her steps.
“I don’t like it here. Walls are everywhere,” she continued to say. “It’s so stuffed. How are you?”
  Please stop talking.
  “My cousin’s papa – not the cousin who ate dirt – has a hairy face. It looks funny. What do you…” Cloudia didn’t hear the rest of the little girl’s words as she broke into a run.
  To hell with my headaches. To hell with my tired body.
I only wanted to get away.
  Cloudia ran as fast as she could, getting away from the girl her only aim, the only thing to make her push her weary body farther, farther, farther. She turned around corner after corner, sprinted through corridor after corridor until her lungs began to ache – and even then, she kept on for a little bit longer before slowing down. Still walking quickly, Cloudia finally allowed herself to look over her shoulder to see if the girl with the dark blue eyes – the impossible monster – had somehow followed her, but there was nothing behind her but rows and rows of walls made of grey stone.
For a moment, relief tricked her into halting, but Cloudia pushed herself to keep on walking. She turned her gaze back to the front and–
“…think is funny?” continued the little girl her question from earlier as if nothing had happened, as if Cloudia had never moved.
  ***
  But that labyrinth was not like this one.
  ***
  I knew what she was, but I did not know how she came to be.
She was a monster wearing a face which could not be hers, speaking with a voice which did not belong to her. Both face and voice were part of the past, things having long turned into memories – only there to be re-watched, impossible to re-enter.
Still, she had managed to steal them.
  The little girl with the dark blue eyes kept on talking.
And talking and talking.
She never stopped; she spoke about how she didn’t like this place, how she liked this and that, how she wanted to go home, how she was lost, and how her cousin – one of many – once got lost in the woods, tripped while trying to return and lost a piece of his tooth.
  She was driving me insane – more and more with every word she spoke.
But wasn’t I already insane? She could not be – she couldn’t, she couldn’t – and still, I could see her, hear her, feel her presence. But every time, I tried to touch her, she moved away.
And she kept on talking and talking and talking…
  “Do you want to make a pause? You don’t look okay; I think you should sit down,” the blue-eyed girl proposed.
  I was not looking fine because you were driving me crazy. Because you shouldn’t be here and haunt me. Because I shouldn’t let you haunt me.
But you did.
With every word that left your mouth, with every word that you voiced, you pulled at my sanity, at the remnants of it.
Part of me let you drag me down, but another kept on pushing on – and pushing you away.
And I hoped and hoped and wished that this part would win and you would vanish, but no matter what I did, what I tried, what I said, you stayed and kept on speaking and speaking with no pause and end.
  ***
  It was not made of grey and stone but of hedges and flowers.
  ***
  The girl’s words started to echo through my head, beating alongside my headache.
There was nothing else in this maze except her and me – no sound, no change, no other monsters, no other humans. But monsters – this monster here with me – wore a human’s face, and humans could wear a monster’s face; and I wondered if the little girl with the blue eyes had chosen a different face to wear, one I didn’t know, would I have known that she was a monster and not a girl?
  “I like fairy tales,” the girl chanted. “They are full of magic. It can’t be, I know. I always knew, but I met magic. I saw magic. I don’t know if it’s called magic, but I think of it as that.”
She looked up at Cloudia. “My one cousin – not the one whose papa’s face is hairy, not the one who ate dirt, not the one with the chipped tooth – knows so many first and last sentences of fairy tales. ‘A king and queen once upon a time reigned in a country a great way off, where there were in those days fairies. – And then the prince and Briar Rose were married, and the wedding feast was given; and they lived happily together all their lives long.’ This the beginning and end of Briar Rose! I like this tale, but it is not my favourite.”
  And how did I know that I was a girl and not a monster?
  ***
  Once upon a time, I had been bound to Phantomhive Manor. I still was, but, back then, it had been different.
  ***
  “Are you happy?” the little girl wanted to know. “I doubt you are. How can you be happy if you are in a place like this? I doubt anyone can be happy in a place like this. This maze is odd, oh, so odd. There is nowhere to go even if you keep on walking. Are you happy?”
  Was I?
Lately, I had definitely not been happy. I had been rolled over by Teddy’s death and the anniversary, by my own failure and now this charade. There had been no time to be happy in this grief.
  “What was the last thing you enjoyed? Did you enjoy killing Maven von Brandt?”
  Did I?
  “I think you did – oh, take care! There’s a corner, ahead! Not that you run against a wall! This reminds me of that one time…”
  ***
  Back then, I would always try to run. I would always hide. And sometimes, I would run into the labyrinth and hide there.
  ***
  “What brought you here?” The girl walked ahead of her, walked backwards so that she could face her. “What do you think brought you here?”
  I did not know what she meant. I could not think. My head was filled with her stolen voice, her never-ending speech. There was no room for my own thoughts; all I could concentrate on were the words coming out of her mouth.
And nothing else. And nothing else.
  “People always follow paths. Sometimes, they have to choose whether they want to go left or right when they arrive at a junction. I don’t think you can turn and walk back the way from which you’ve come. Where did you choose so unwisely to get to a place like this today?”
  I did not want to walk anymore. I had never been so tired before. I didn’t care about choosing or turning. I only wanted to stand here for a while to rest my soul and bones, but I couldn’t.
I had to keep on walking – and walking and walking. I did not know where to go, where my feet would carry me. If there was even somewhere to go or if I would remain here for ever and ever with this girl and monster as my only companion.
  “It is okay to decide to make a pause,” the blue-eyed girl sang. “Or, if you don’t want to rest, you can just step into a new line and hope that this one’s calmer. It is all right to leave the path on which you were walking. You weren’t good at it anyway. If you were, you wouldn’t be here today, would you? It’s fine, you don’t have to be good at everything. Or anything, even.
“You are not looking well. How are you feeling today?”
  ***
  I would go there to read, to be by myself. I would go there to escape or just for the sake of running.
  ***
  My mind and limbs were heavy. I was wearing down. I kept on walking, but it seemed that I was seeing the same walls, following the same route. It seemed as if I was walking in circles, and it was wearing me down.
 I did not know how much time had passed. Since I had come here. Since I had woken up here. Since Leon had run away.
I wondered what he had seen. He couldn’t have seen the little girl – that was all I knew.
 It must be night now; it should be night now. But the sky was still grey.
How long was I awake? I wished that I was just dreaming, dreaming…
… but I wasn’t and this shadow of a girl kept on speaking.
And this shadow of me kept on listening. To her words, to her song. To the truth woven into them, and to the lies woven into truths.
  ***
  For a long time, in the beginning, when I had first started going into the maze, I would always get lost.
  ***
  Whenever a headache grew too strong and I lost my grip on what was around me, it felt like I was pulled down an ocean and, no matter how much I struggled to return to the surface, I would continue sinking, knowing that all was in vain and that there was nothing I could do.
It felt like I had been buried under snow, trying to dig myself out even if my hands and arms and legs were already frozen. And I would only stop moving when I could not even feel the cold anymore.
It felt like I had fallen into a hole or well which was impossible to climb out of. But I would still try it, try it until my hands were bloody, try it until I fell and was unable to get back again.
And every time, I was all alone. Every time, I would scream and cry, but there was nobody who could hear me. Nobody who could help me. And every time, I stopped fighting, I stopped screaming as well.
On the bottom of the ocean, beneath the thick snow, stuck in a well, there was nothing but me and my thoughts.
And soon, I was trapped in them as well.
  ***
  It did not take long until someone noticed I was gone. However, there was only ever one who would come and find me.
  ***
  The blue-eyed little girl continued speaking, and reddened waves called to me.
 She was right. I was not good at what I was doing. Because I had failed, Manon was still breathing – breathing and laughing, laughing at me from her throne high above in her castle – and she had been able to continue torturing and killing innocent people. So many had died because of me. Because there was nothing I could do right.
I was not suitable, was sheer incapable to follow this path any longer.
 I began walking into the ocean.
  ***
  He was always there for me, and I wondered if, sometimes, in some ways, I had also been there for him.
  ***
  And with every step I made, the shadows around me, the shadows on the walls, took on shapes and started to speak to me – started to call me towards them to the bottom of the ocean with their sing-song voices.
  “If you go there, I think, I won’t be lost anymore,” said the girl with the dark blue eyes.
“You don’t have to be scared,” said the old man.
“I am here to strengthen you,” said the sad-eyed man.
“I am here to hold you,” said the boy with raven hair.
“You could have been more,” said the monster.
“I will watch out for you,” said the woman in black.
“Who even cares for you?” said the woman behind the veil.
“Let us go together,” said the man.
  The air did not sound; the sea did not ring out. But there was an ocean, I knew, and its water clung to me and made me heavy and pulled me down.
  “I will wait for you there,” said the man, the last man, with the odd eyes and odd hair.
 “If you go there, I think, I won’t be lost anymore.”
“You don’t have to be scared.”
“I am here to strengthen you.”
“I am here to hold you.”
“You could have been more.”
“I will watch out for you.”
“Who even cares for you?”
“Let us go together.”
 “I will wait for you there, I will…”
  I pressed my hands to my ears and stopped walking, the red waves tearing at me, the shadows still calling me.
  “Go away,” Cloudia wanted to say, but when she tried, no sound came out.
“You don’t have to be scared.”
“Go away,” she tried again, but it still didn’t work.
“Let us go together.”
“GO AWAY,” she repeated, putting all her force into the words, but there was still nothing.
“I will wait for you there.”
  ***
  But he was not always able to come, so I had to find a way out myself.
  ***
  The words got caught in my throat when I tried to speak.
There was nowhere to go.
My ears rang, and I was alone with the voices in my head.
I was drowning again, and nobody could save me.
 The pressure inside of me paralysed me, the voices encaged me, and my soul felt so heavy, and I was burning. Was heading straight into the waters to extinguish the fire.
 Agony filled my head and body and soul. I was shattering, falling apart. There was nothing which could unravel my thoughts, and I was igniting from within.
I came to a halt – and when I stopped, I heard something which was not the little girl’s stolen voice, anyone’s stolen voice.
  ***
  The labyrinth in Phantomhive Manor’s garden was made of hedges and flowers, and every autumn, the leaves would change their colour and the flowers would fade away.
  ***
  It took me a while to realise that I had fallen onto the ground.
I was lying on my back, my eyes fixed on the never-changing grey sky, my right arm holding my left.
My ears rang and my body should hurt from the fall, but I did not feel anything. I only felt like I was burning from the inside of my numb body.
I didn’t understand what had happened. How had I been able to hear anything within these walls? What was the thing I had heard? A new voice? A cry? A scream? Or something completely different?
  “Can you hear me?” asked the little girl with the dark blue eyes when the shadows gathered around Cloudia, watching her lying on the ground from above.
“You suddenly collapsed to the ground. Are you fine? You scared me. You should not scare me. That’s not nice. It’s so scary already.”
  I was so tired.
I had been tired for so long now, but now, the little bit of energy I had left seemed to vanish faster than it had before – leaving me bit for bit with every breath I took.
  “I can understand,” the little girl told her. “I am so tired as well…”
  ***
  And eventually, the leaves would fall.
  ***
  My eyes threatened to flutter closed; I couldn’t keep them open anymore.
  “It is all right; it is all right,” the monsters sang around her and outstretched their hands. “Come with us; we will keep you safe. We know a place far away, a city of eternal rest…”
  All the other times, I had kept on fighting until I couldn’t anymore and beyond.
  “You don’t have to be scared,” said the old man, his gaze far away and his words void of warmth.
“I am here to strengthen you,” said the sad-eyed man without any joy.
“I am here to hold you,” said the boy with the raven hair and stepped aside.
“Who even cares for you?” said the woman behind the veil and turned away.
The man knelt down next to her. “Let us go together,” he said without any softness and when he smiled, he did it without his usual sincerity.
“If you go there, I think, I won’t be lost anymore,” said the little girl who was not little anymore, but her eyes were still the same dark blue. “I think we won’t be lost anymore. I think we won’t be tired anymore.”
“You should go,” said a new shadow, a shadow with no face. “You have failed and your time has come to go.”
  ***
  Without the leaves, all the walls of the labyrinth were bare and all passages visible.
  ***
  “I will wait for you there,” said the man, the last man. “Your time has come to follow me to the city where I have my throne.”
  For a short, short moment, my eyes closed, but I dug my fingers into my arm and my mouth opened to cry out but no sound came out again.
I had to stay awake; I had to stay awake.
I had kept this up for so long now; this could not be the end now. This could not be my end now.
  “But isn’t it easier to follow me?” said the odd-eyed man. “You fought for so long. You deserve to follow an easier way now.”
  No.
This was not the right way.
  “But, tell me – which one is the right one then?”
  I had no idea.
  “Then, how do you know that I am wrong?”
  ***
  The labyrinth had lost its essence.
  ***
  No matter how deep I dug my fingers, I felt no pain to keep me awake. And I had become accustomed to the pain in my head and the fire burning in my bones.
 It was inevitable. I was about to drift away.
To drift away to the bottom of the ocean.
To sink deeper into the snow beneath me.
To be caught in the shadows residing in the well.
 I kept falling down; I kept falling down.
I was collapsing under the weight of my soul and kept on falling down, down and down…
Kept falling down into a darkness which did not come. Whose arrival was swallowed by a familiar green light and the start of the same old, broken record.
 But in this moment, in this fracture of a second, in this gap between those two hells when my vision was blurry and the world gave away to the record, I glimpsed at an oddity: at a world where the walls and the monster girl were not there, where none of the monsters were, where the sky was not grey and where there were sound and a castle in the distance.
  ***
  And what seemed so scary and impossible to conquer before didn’t seem scary or impossible anymore.
  ***
  The realisation came with the surprise and intensity of rocks thrown through a window. But, finally, I knew. Knew what monsters they had meant, knew why they called Manon a witch.
Finally, I could see what was right in front of me – and I held onto this clarity, never letting go, and woke up.
  ***
  With the clouds gone from her vision, the sky was a spectacle of brilliant red and orange giving away to an intense blue, and the soft rain strengthened the colours and set the sky ablaze.
Groaning, Cloudia sat up and pain ran through her body, but this time, it came from her left arm which she had been clutching for so long now. Now, she took her hand away and examined the wound, blood dripping from the torn open wound and mixing with the rain. For a moment, Cloudia closed her eyes and held her face up to the sky, letting the rain fall onto her and listening to its gentle tip-tap on her skin and the ground. She breathed in the clean air to cool herself down, but her body kept on burning.
When Cloudia opened her eyes again, she looked right into a rifle barrel.
“I think you shouldn’t fire this from this range,” Cloudia told him sleepily, and Axel Shade laughed.
“You’re awake? Nobody ever woke up. How impressive, Lady Cloudia,” he spat out before bracing the rifle back against his shoulder.
“I thought you weren’t allowed to kill me,” Cloudia pointed out.
He grinned. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s only a tranquiliser. Aren’t you a lucky girl? You would have been long dead if I had a say in–”
Before Axel could finish his sentence, Cloudia’s right arm shot forward and her fingers tightened on the rifle while she kicked Axel as hard as she could between the legs. He let out a scream and his grip on the weapon loosened, allowing Cloudia to press it hard against his shoulder, making him stumble back and lose his grip completely. Much to her luck, Axel was still preoccupied with the agony between his legs, and even though Cloudia was only able to stand up slowly, she was quicker back on her feet than Axel had recovered from the attack.
Axel, as soon as his pain had lessened, threw himself at her. He managed to hit the wound on her arm, making her wince in pain before Cloudia hit him in the face with the rifle’s butt plate. He stumbled back, and she hit him again, making him fall down hard to the ground, unconscious.
Panting, Cloudia stood over Axel’s unmoving body before she sank to her knees. She put the rifle down and bit down on her lip while she ripped apart a piece of her threadbare dress and knotted it around her injured arm.
  What now?
  Cloudia let her gaze wander through the now-empty courtyard, her head and heart still heavy. The castle was about 200 metres away, the door to the dungeon still open as always. She narrowed her eyes. The rain had washed most of it away, but there was undoubtedly a bloody line leading to the castle. It did not lead to the dungeon door, though, but to a wall – or, to be exact, another hidden door.
  Apparently, Leon had already been caught.
  Blinking away her blurring vision, Cloudia examined the rifle and realised only now that it looked like nothing she had ever seen before. Then, she went through Axel’s clothes, finding a bag of darts for the odd rifle and a gun, presumably the one with which he had shot her. Cloudia tucked the gun away and took one of the nine darts out of the bag and rammed it into Axel’s leg for safety measures. When she was done, she put the bag of darts away too and picked up the rifle before standing up and moving towards the dungeon door.
  My head hurt, my vision blurred, my ears rang – and I was burning from the inside out. But I was so close to the Witch’s Castle now, so close to take back what was mine and ruin this place. To wrap this up and get back home.
  The rain kept falling while the blue slowly and gradually won over the fire which had spread over the sky – but the fire inside of her did not want to be extinguished. Instead, her body kept heating up.
  I had to keep on going. I had to keep on going. I had to keep on going–
I couldn’t give up now.
I could not die here in this hellhole. Not when I was so close. Not ever.
 I was Cloudia Phantomhive, and I would not die today. But still, it felt like I would.
I had to keep on going. Even if my body would never stop burning, I had to keep on going.
 I was so close to the castle now. Only a few more steps. But the light above was so bright and the rain so loud…
 I was right in front of the door, only had to take one more step to get inside…
And then, from the corner of my eye, I saw movement before I heard a voice – male, but not quite – and
  [White Space]
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Little Known Brotherhood Members- FABIAN CORTEZ!
This Brotherhood spotlight series includes the Acolytes, the group of mutants who followed Magneto after the Brotherhood, and there’s no better Acolyte to start with than their founder, Fabian Cortez.
For all that I’ve posted about him on this blog so many times, I realized I don’t have a default bio/info post about just who he is and what he’s done. Or if I did, it was a long time ago. I tried to make this as short as possible but there’s like ten years of comic history between Magneto and Fabian Cortez to condense.
Little is known about the origins of Fabian Cortez, but his surname indicates a Spanish heritage, and he claims to be royalty by birth. Based on this, I headcanon him as coming from an aristocratic family in Spain.  He possessed the ability to charge the powers of other mutants. This could help them to a point, but he could do more, pushing their powers painfully past their bodies ability to handle, harming or even killing them.
He, his sister Anne Marie, and two other mutants (Chrome and Delgado) banded together to reach Magneto on Asteroid M and join his cause. However, Magneto himself had abandoned it at this point, having retired altogether from fighting for the mutant cause due to his hopelessness and despair.
Nevertheless, these four mutants stole a space shuttle from SHIELD, and as a result were pursued by SHIELD agents. They ended up in a firefight on the ‘doorstep’ of Asteroid M, alerting Magneto to their presence. He was going to send them back to Earth, but upon hearing Anne Marie’s pleas and pledge of loyalty, brought the Acolytes inside. Unfortunately he brought SHIELD in as well, and one of their agents opened fire on Anne Marie in cold blood, seemingly killing her. Fabian used this opportunity to immediately begin manipulating Magneto into violent action like his old days, teaching him the now-common anti-human term “flatscan” which he had invented.
While Magneto slept, Fabian led his team in an assault against Genoshan Magistrates at a hospital. The X-Men appeared to stop them, and Wolverine stated he knew Fabian’s scent from somewhere, though where has never been revealed. Just when the four followers seemed defeated, Magneto appeared to save them, deeming them the Acolytes (the first time this term was used for them) and stating he would not abandon them. Given that their targets were people who had enslaved mutants, Magneto felt they had done nothing wrong, and took them back to Asteroid M along with several captive X-Men. Here, Fabian treated Magneto’s wounds from Wolverine with his healing powers, and fostered Magneto’s trust in him further. Fabian also discovered via his genetic scanning ability that Moira MacTaggert had altered Magneto’s biology in order to treat his mental illness, news that Magneto did not take well given the history of experimentation on prisoners during the Holocaust. This gave Fabian further fuel to convince Magneto that everyone was against him, even those he had once considered friends, all while literally driving him insane with his powers
.Fabian manipulated Magneto into committing acts that frightened the governments of both the USA and the USSR, prompting them to take action against him. Eventually, this culminated, as Fabian had planned, with the Russians planning to fire a plasma cannon at Asteroid M while Magneto, the X-Men, and the other Acolytes were aboard. Fabian used this, triggering the cannon via remote technology as he escaped at the most opportune moment. The X-Men also escaped, but Fabian’s teammates—and sister—died with Magneto.
Fabian went on to use Magneto’s status as a martyr to build a cult in the mutant community, also called the Acolytes, who committed bloodthirsty acts in Magneto’s name believing that it was what he wanted. Fabian enjoyed great power as their leader, since he’d told them Magneto chose him with his dying breath. He also began bedeviling Quicksilver, trying to recruit him into the Acolytes to be a figurehead since he was Magneto’s son, even going so far as to infiltrate the government and reveal its secret “Project Wideawake” Sentinel Project” to Pietro in hopes of showing him how wicked humans were and get him to turn to the Acolytes side. At the same time, Fabian was also secretly a member of the Upstarts, a group of rich and bored young mutants who competed for an unknown-but-lofty prize by killing more powerful, prominent mutants for “points”—and killing Magneto had put Fabian in the lead.
Fabian lost it all, however–his power, his position, his people, his points—lost it all when Magneto returned from the grave, having been saved at the last minute by Chrome of the original Acolytes. Magneto brought with him a powerful new follower named Exodus, who used his teleporting powers to, at Magneto’s command, send Fabian far away (Exodus wished to kill him, but according to him, Magneto had ordered him to be merciful) Exodus and Magneto then took over leading the Acolytes.
Fabian would resurface during the conflict known as “Blood Ties”, in which he kidnapped Luna Maximoff, Pietro’s daughter, and brought her to Genosha for the dual purpose of using her as a symbol of resistance to stir the ex-slave mutants into civil war against the humans…and to use as a bargaining chip to make her family protect him from the wrath of Exodus and Magneto (who he did not know was in a braindead coma at this time) Alas, neither this nor the Genoshan followers he amassed could save him, and Exodus slaughtered him in the Genoshan sewers.
But even the grave couldn’t hold him. Like many Marvel characters, Fabian returned to life later with little explanation, and attempted to gain his Acolytes back from Exodus by using what seemed to be an amnesiac, de-aged Magneto (actually Magneto’s clone, Joseph) Claiming to be a changed man to Exodus and the Acolytes, Fabian lied to Joseph as he had to Magneto, gaining his trust, and tried to pit him and Exodus against one another so that they would kill each other, allowing him to take over once they were both gone. When this didn’t work out, Fabian fled, but returned at some point and was inexplicably allowed back into the ranks by Exodus. In Exodus’s service, he bedeviled Quicksilver even further, such as teaming up with Maximus the Mad to destroy the Inhumans and ruin Pietro’s life…and all the while, scheming to betray Exodus at every turn.
After Exodus was sealed away in a crypt by Black Knight, the Acolytes split into two groups, each searching for Magneto. Fabian led one group, but  upon realising how he has been using them for his own purposes, they abandoned him during a battle with the X-Men and Fabian fled. While wandering alone, he was approached by Magneto, who had tracked him down. Magneto was the newly-appointed ruler of Genosha now, but his powers had been depleted. He ordered Fabian, on pain of death if he refused, to come with him to Genosha and serve as his living battery. Not having a choice, Fabian agreed.
Knowing that Magneto would kill him as soon as he no longer needed his periodic hypercharges, Fabian began plotting treachery against his “master” once more. Despite Magneto being aware of this, he not only continued to employ Fabian, but gave him a political position on the Genoshan Cabinet. More covertly, Fabian also assisted in a rebellion against Magneto, but just as he had secured an escape from Genosha, Magneto regained his powers by use of a machine. And the first thing he did with them was execute Fabian Cortez by levitating him 50 miles above the aptly-named Carrion Cove and then slamming him back down into the ground in less than 20 seconds—head first.
He still came back one more time, however. During the event known as Necrosha, the mutant sorceress Selene temporarily resurrected millions of dead mutants. Under her control, they attacked the X-Men’s base on Utopia. Fabian was among them, and given orders to bring Magneto to her. For reasons unknown, Fabian was the only one able to resist Selene’s control and disobey her orders. Rather than take Magneto prisoner like she wanted, his goal was to find him and kill him. A goal he alas never reached, since Deadpool killed him once again by throwing Loa, a young mutant with disintegration powers, into him, ending Fabian’s life for the third and, thus far in canon, final time.
Part of the “Little Known Brotherhood Members” series on this blog! See previous and pending entries listed HERE!
ALSO, SOME BONUS STUFF:
- In addition to being leader of the Acolytes, Fabian was also a member of the Upstarts. The Upstarts were essentially a supervillain contest, most of its competitors rich-but-bored young mutants, who competed by killing powerful, prominent mutants for points in exchange for some unknown prize (they all believed it was something different). This was Fabian’s other motive for killing Magneto, and his (temporary) success put him in first place for a time.
- According to Fabian, he is royalty by birth. The particulars of this have never been revealed, however. Also, he screamed about it at someone while he (Fabian) was completely naked, so there’s that.
- He’s incredibly sexist and incredibly thirsty. He has plans for a harem and attempts to force a woman to agree to being in it. He force-kisses Psylocke. He’s just...look at this, man.
- He may even be too sexist for mind-control. When Selene resurrected him alongside many other mutants during Necrosha, he was the only one shown as able to disobey her. It was never explained why/how, so this is my best (crack) guess.
- He lied to a bird. Yes, really.
- Fabian is almost always wearing a cape. In fact, he even once had it wrapped around himself during a stealth mission, because I guess god forbid this drama queen take it off. I’ve also noticed he wraps it around himself when he’s scared or in trouble; perhaps it is a security blanket of sorts? Oh, and a series of art errors in the second series of X-Men ‘92 suggests that he carries spares
- Fabian normally speaks in a very grandiose, elaborate way, much like Magneto. However, while Magneto does this naturally all the time, with Fabian it seems to be a deliberate thing, as evident by how when the shit hits the fan, he exclaims: - Fabian Cortez carried a firearm to fights with the X-Men and other enemies, unusually for a super-powered person (but a smart move) He also proves so adept at martial arts as to defeat Psylocke in seconds. I like this; he’s a physically human guy, he’s going into battle with people with seriously dangerous powers, it makes sense he would build up his mundane fighting skills as much as possible. Why aren’t more bad guys this smart? - I also like how he turned a seemingly benign power into an offensive weapon, that’s a lot more interesting to me than if he’d just gotten an overtly aggressive power like energy blasts or something - He invented the anti-human term “flatscan” - He has a son (mother unknown) in the Marvel Zombies universe named Malcolm Cortez - In the 1990s animated series, he serves Apocalypse after betraying Magneto - Honestly there is so much shit I know about Fabian Cortez, guys I can’t begin to tell you, read his tag. Also, this picture: 
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This had to be explained to me this morning...
Okay why I don't fucking know and they won't bother because it's fucking dumb and lazy I'm quite sure.
But.
Apparently I won't be home for Christmas, Annabelle and I will be stuck out at the Uncle, Clone, Socrates Christmas Horror with probably my cousin Chris.. Maybe my brother...
And so I said "what are people supposed to think? They're supposed to be happy and experiencing new things, this is old shit and for me?! That's gonna make them feel even worse knowing I can't be with my Kidd over some stupid invalid shit that I don't even understand except it's just plain laziness, idiotic and definitely developed by a male!! A male that's lazy about his family!!"
William: let me defend myself
Me: shut up
So I was told by someone, someone i stole a gun from shortly before my faux 16th birthday in an attempt to help save the planet (Not William but an undercover CIA agent), that in his heart he was told that this Christmas when people look around think 'Sabrina is missing out on this kind of happiness with her family' that they should remember and realize that the sadness they feel for me was felt for millions of human trafficked victims world wide, every Christmas and every holiday.
Some of us didn't know about it. Or had forgotten. So let this be the last Christmas any one is sad. It will always be a serious issue in our hearts and minds and souls. But not forever should we carry the burden of sadness and fear.
This year is the eradication of the solitude of the sadness of each Holiday being sad. Now we all know why gramma would sit in the chair alone hugging herself quietly at,the end of the day or sit the camcorder in the corner and refuse to participate like a granddaughter thought she should and try to get her to interact more because she didn't seem happy enough.
This Christmas: the sadness shall be replaced with cheer. The fear with triumph and joy.
And yes you will remember I'll not be happy and my kids without their parents.
But they have my real mom and dad. My real twin brother. Their not real Uncle that loves them as much as a dad. And many more people, nearly 100 in their neat home giving them best wishes and having Christmas dinner.
No way in Hell nor God's green Earth would i allow them to miss Christmas.
So today they will open presents from Uncle Garth and tomorrow Trisha's stockings, the next day from the Dildo King who has been making new things with his family (faux Uncle Garth and real Uncle Matt) that i asked Uncle to purchase 3 years ago in preparation of taking care of my children. And on down. And hopefully I'll be able to get there while Christmas is still happening.
I'm there in spirit as i always have been and that is my Christmas Lesson to know I cared about Children i didn't know i had. And for Declan and Annabelle, too. To know they also assumed one day they would feel Christmas joy as they once had when they were little and alone, listening to little voices explain how things were different where they lived yet no matter how close they felt they knew things were too far to really feel the Christmas joy as they should. This year they will know why.
As Declan explains. Its beautiful because they never expressed unhappiness or even jealousy or loneliness, just an eagerness to understand what they were missing out on because their belief was one day they would experience it out of slavery and here with us.
And it's true. Since my divorce... The ability to do Christmas All big and strong has dwindled... Because i have too much pain, mostly physical and can't gather the strength to make it perfect in every way. And as getting older goes Declan couldn't also hide his worries from his soulmate. Although we worked together to make it best for Annabelle. For us it was more about "Thank God it's Done and everything went perfect"
So this year... Apparently William's laziness wants us to feel that before Christmas. -.- or at Christmas. -.- like i really care. We still have so much work to do! We have mental health and we have bunkers to redo so they're not bunkers and factories to move and figure out what to do with. And employ people at a rate that doesn't cause insane inflation. Like work is never over. So Idk whst the fuck hes thinking. Im All about letting those miserable souls we can't get the missle at think they can enjoy Christmas. Pay a lot of someone's an insane amount of money to miss Christmas and sit outside their house and shadow shot them when they attempt to leave. Drop down the fucking chimney at night... Now that it's raining because the world cries for us...maybe that's not the best idea but still you get the picture. See, my husband is lazy and has no defenses. But i still love him anyways although his life woild be easier if he just listened and didn't pretend he didn't ever hear whole discussions we had where he was all "oh that's so smart!!" And make new plans when he sure as Hell knew i wasn't listening and my face looked like this:
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And he tells me i should take a picture of myself because hes too afraid to tell me i look mad and wants to soften things up.
Uh Yeah when you abandon me in Hell when i fully expressed that i wanted him to come back full body in our old truck and drive me to Macy's in Oklahoma So we can get the kids Christmas presents in the form of bedding and some holiday clothing like nice dresses and suits. That they can wear while playing in mud puddles because that's what life is about as stains are like scars but stains remember less pain usually, and more laughter than tears and fears. Then he could leave me at Uncle Garths while he goes back to work. So we could spend the whole drive together and shopping time and then Declan could caravan with us.
But no. Hes all about abandonment because its easy. -.-
And now he's like way way beyond scared. Well that's what a mad face is about. Its the door to truth. And truth isn't always happy or pretty.
Its scary. And it's real. And it doesn't go away. Its Not just a point of view, it is total truth. Its at least 2 points of view and a validation.
When i told him what i wanted he promised he could do it and wss very happy.
So then later he's rambling about me stsying here while im busy making gingerbread houses and I'm quite sure he inhaled too much Stevia powder we used for snow.
William: hey now I don't wanna be in control anymore i want my wife to tell me what to do!
Uncle Donald: are you trying to hide behind Uncle Donald?
William: I'm heading that way!
Uncle Donald: well you get back to body life for yourself and we will make sure you get there safe. If not we will Chinook her express. How does that sound?
William: well uhhh how does that sound to you? Im asking Uncle Donald.
Uncle Donald: well you have a period of 2 hours to decide then we are taking her and the kids and Uncle Dan, as she calls him, with respect because hes always been kind to her.
Me: sounds good to me
William: what about those other guys that have been fighting for her?
Me: Christmas comes the same time every fucking year. Like you they ain't spent it with me so they obviously don't care.
William: well uh they care, now.
Me: because they have an opportunity to and they're all taking too long. What? We put the calender on pause because they didn't make their own opportunities? No they hurry the fuck up. Maybe they will make it but not fair to my children to wait on them to finish and any husband od kine will understand that.
William: not if they always lived in a bunker
Me: well that is why we already placed human trafficking victims with their families as best and as fast as we can So that they can learn to understand. Because it's not something that can be taught, its something that's felt only when together in happiness and love in a group. Its like having a whole meal and not just a bag of chips.
William: that's all you gotta say.
Uncle Donald: Sabrina...
Me: we already have a standing plan from August. It will be easy.
Uncle Donald: that's all
Me: thank you. And Merry Christmas.
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salemspoint-blog · 7 years
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❝ If socrates can make a career out of telling people that they’re stupid then so can I. ❞
» Jeremiah Ainsworth » Thirty-one (900+) » Vampire » Lawyer » DJ Cotrona
Physical Appearance —
Jeremiah tends to be well dressed all the time. When he is working he is always dressed professional and is in a suit, he prepares himself well for his days when he is in the firm and when he is in Court. He takes pride in how he dresses but isn’t really a huge fan of it. Which is why he tends to be himself when he is working the farm in jeans and a simple shirt. His movenments are delivered with full confidence and no second guessing is ever done. He never gives too much of himself to anyone else and just reacts to them. Mostly he does his best just to irk other people, pushing buttons is a hobby of his. He can be diplomatic if he has to be but tends to avoid that most of the time. He says what he means all the time unless there is something else that is more valeuable.
Personality Traits —
♦ Loyal, authenticity and conscientiousness ♢ Callous, machiavellian and secretive
Biography —
Even angels have their demons that had been what Jeremiah’s mother had always told him. It was a justification for their father’s cold nature – something to make Jeremiah not hate him. All the daddy issues managed to fall onto his older brother and younger sister. Jeremiah never really cared for the man. All he knew was that he had a duty to be there for his parents. To provide for them because their father lacked in that department. Jeremiah grew up with the idea that he had a father but never really saw that being played out. His father would come and go on trips that were supposedly important. Their father was obsessed with raising their social standards – to right the wrong that had once occurred to their family decades ago when the ruling family had been the Ainsworth in town till his father’s older brother was murdered by the current family in place. Jeremiah’s siblings always felt like they had been robbed of their lives – Jeremiah didn’t mind being dirt poor. He enjoyed working the land and being able to read instead of attending governmental meetings with idiots that thought they knew what they were doing. His father had always hoped that Jeremiah and his brother would take back the family’s rightful place but realized with time that Jeremiah didn’t care nor have the passion for it.
In the start, Jeremiah and his siblings were close as thieves. They worked the farm together during the day and would go out at night to run the town. Jeremiah looked up to his brother – he wanted to be just like him when he was younger. Those were the simpler times. His sister coming along was the best thing to ever happen to the family. She brought the grace and delicate element that the Ainsworth family lacked. Then things started to change when they entered their teenage years. Where Jeremiah proved that he had no intention of turning the town that he had grown up upside down just to create a power change. His brother, on the other hand, had a different plan. Jeremiah had thought that perhaps with time his brother would see reason and join him with just letting go of this family feud when he went off to law school. His sister was under his wing and he always took care of her. Jeremiah always provided safety for his family in ways that didn’t require another war.
He should’ve known that he was going to fail when he started to fall in love with Isabella, the daughter of his father’s enemy. The two had hated each other – they had been taught to hate each other. Then just like that, they started to both realize neither of them really disliked each other. The two would constantly bicker and neither thought it would become nothing more than a friendship – but the more time they spent the more they realized they bother shared the same dreams. Dreams of getting out of town and traveling the world. Getting the chance to see everything and help those that needed the help. Isabella wanted to be a teacher and Jeremiah had wanted to just farm a land and be able to feel the poor without the skyrocket taxes. Isabella’s father had nothing against Jeremiah, instead saw him as a wild card that he could use against his arch enemy, Jeremiah’s father. Jeremiah wasn’t an idiot he knew the political plays that would come out if he did go public with Isabella, so he denied her this. Instead, he publically broke up with her in front of the entire town. That was the first time that he was able to see a preview of how cruel he could be.
For years both of them kept their friendship hidden from everywhere. The woman told Jeremiah she couldn’t be in a secret relationship. Though both knew they couldn’t be together it didn’t stop the feelings from being there. Jeremiah was devoted to Isabella completely – even when other females tried they never came close to her. Isabella ended up putting her dream of being a teacher on hold and stayed in town for Jeremiah. Jeremiah started to push the political ladder as a local politican – his community started to stand behind him. The Ainsworth farm became successful and his relationship with his parents – including his father – improved. His sister was in love and was going to marry above as well. The Ainsworth family started to have a meaning once again and it was not some pitiful family or a reminder of what they had once been. His older brother ended up coming back in town and enjoyed the changes. He was proud that Jeremiah had seen the light and was devoted to moving up the social ladder. What he didn’t know – what no one knew – was that Jeremiah was doing this with the sole purpose to marry Isabella. The change was slow though – too slow for their older brother and what Jeremiah didn’t know was that his brother had died.
The man that had come back was a vampire. The supernatural was not something that Jeremiah had ever wanted to join. Even when his brother stood in front of him and demonstrated him all his new abilities and the new concept of living forever, didn’t interest him. Jeremiah refused his brother’s offer and told him that he was not his brother anymore. The man took him off his life. Jeremiah then proceeded to propose to Isabella and planning a life away from this entire town and its madness. Oh if only it would’ve ended there because what happened next ended up changing the man that Jeremiah became. His brother took their younger sister and turned her. His older brother could be an amazing manipulative son of a bitch – not to mention that their relationship of siblings had always been twisted. The next memory that Jeremiah had was waking up in a blood pool of his parents. His first visage composed of siblings standing tall in front of him as he pushed himself up the ground holding Isabella. They had managed to find the letters that the two had written to each other.
Jeremiah ended up getting his nightmare served to him – he didn’t end up taking over the town. Nor made any political moves. No – Jeremiah ended up becoming his brother’s slave. He was turned and completely sired to his brother from the start. Isabella was kept as a good faith bargaining chip. The three ended up taking over the town and Jeremiah ended up as the victor with everything being his. His sister was fiercely loyal to their brother, even when their brother was abusive towards her. Jeremiah’s learned to resent his siblings making them completely enemies in his eyes. Once his brother realized that the political power was not enough to satisfy his ego, he moved his agenda to a bigger scale and a plan that involved more blood spillage. Through the years the only thing that kept him anchor with who he used to be was Isabella, and his brother knew that. Which was one day why he turned Isabella into a vampire giving Jeremiah the choice to keep her alive meaning that he was going to be selfish because Isabella had always said she never wanted to be a vampire or give her what she wanted and kill her and lose that part of himself forever – Jeremiah picked the latter. He drove a stake through Isabella’s heart, while at the same time losing his morals completely. He knew that the only way to win against his brother was going to be by playing like him. During this time he found time to attend law school since he needed a job to get by with humans.
The vampire became ruthless and more homicidal than ever. He started to mimic his brother’s tendencies and at times even go further. The trio managed to cause havoc and during that time he managed to get his freedom granted via his brother. Jeremiah ran away from his siblings and never looked back. After the betrayals and the lies he never wanted to go back. However, any time he got word that his siblings were getting themselves into deep shit Jeremiah always ended up showing up and helped to keep them safe. During this time he became close friends with Alina and Callista – the only other two that actually ever got Jeremiah to demonstrate any slight of loyalty. Jeremiah no longer is the man he used to be. He is driven by his most selfish desires and takes great pleasure in taking someone’s life away. Salem has managed to provide him everything he has ever wanted. The freedom to do whatever he wants and no ties to anyone. At least he had thought so till he managed to run into Elena who ended up being somewhat of a person he never saw himself caring but ended up becoming friends with her.
There there was Cait – someone that Jeremiah should’ve just killed or enjoyed toying with. After all, she was another vampire that was just a baby. Not to mention the self-loathing managed to drive him insane and yet she got under his skin. Got him to actually open up and think about a relationship, though he kept his relationship close to his heart. Not letting a word out nor ever telling anyone anything. His sister managed to show up one day out of the blue to have a showdown with him. The two exchanged brutal words about the lack of relationship there was. It was disclosed to Jeremiah for the first time that their older brother had abused her but Jeremiah refused to show any sign of weakness so he told her to go to hell. Jeremiah did everything but hand over the keys for her to get lost. But she promised Jeremiah that he would regret his cold nature towards her and that Cait might end up being the one to pay the price. This ended up causing friction between Cait and Jeremiah as he tried to push her away and get her to see that he could have a better life without him. However, things managed to change and he ended up allowing himself to enjoy the bliss with Cait – but knowing that Emilia, her creator was another obstacle that they would have to face.
The price that his sister had predicted came early. Or perhaps Jeremiah was looking for an excuse. There was word that his sister had managed to fall trap into their brother’s games. The vampire hesitated between actually going and aiding his sister and letting her just die. Jeremiah had a good thing in Salem but the thing was that ever since the showdown and the harsh words of his sister he never was able to be okay with how things were handled. So he got up and left town. Taking care of his sister – only it was not as easy as that. His brother had gone back home and taken full reign. Going back home was like the prodigal son returning home, only Jeremiah didn’t get a party in his honor. Instead, he got himself into a contract with the devil himself. The sight of his sister dagger was enough to get Jeremiah to sign himself over to his brother in exchange of his sister’s freedom. Jeremiah was going to honor his contract till his brother betrayed him and killed Jeremiah’s long time red headed friend, that was when Jeremiah did his scheme and killed ½ of his team and ran back to Salem.
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