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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 20 all chapters

gif credit to dilfgifs

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You try to go as long as you can, but later that night you decide you just can’t stand it anymore. You’re pretty sure it’s been days, and you feel gross.

“Can I…use your shower?”

He turns to you with a small smile. “You mean, our shower? Yes.”

Hoping that’s the end of it, and this exchange won’t get weird, you slip out from under his arm to go into the bathroom. You check your prospects, finding expensive shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, shaving gel…but no razor. You guess you get it, kind of, but really. Then again, maybe you'd better not ask. Why send mixed signals by shaving off your body hair? It’s just an aesthetic mostly catering to the male gaze anyway…

But it bugs you.

You pop your head back out of the door. “Razor?”

He doesn’t even look up from his book.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

This annoys you for some reason. “Just so you know, I am not going to try to kill myself.” Brave words for someone in your situation, but at least at the moment, you mean them.

“I was more worried you might try to kill me.”

You open your mouth again, until he fixes you with that laser-like stare. “Just take your shower, y/n, or do I have to come in there to help you?”

The thought of his large hands on your body slick with soap sends an inconvenient spear of desire straight to your center.

“No.”

You disappear fast as a groundhog into its burrow, closing the door behind you.

“Door open!” he yells in that particular tone, and sensing the shift in his mood, you comply rather than pull his tail some more.

Well done, you, you chide yourself as you strip out of your dirty dress and your ACE bandage in the cavernous shower. He was actually in a good mood, somehow, after you tried to knock his head off with a book. And now you…what? You did something to piss him off, at least a little bit.

Learning his moods was going to take some doing.

It was the only way you were getting out of here alive.

You keep looking over your shoulder, half expecting to see him looming behind you. That man moves silent as a ghost when he feels like it.

It’s creepy. And…kind of hot, if you’re being honest, but that is not a helpful thought.

You feel a thousand times better with all the grime washed from your hair and your body. You wrap yourself in a big fluffy towel that feels like a cloud on your skin, and put off going into the bedroom by drying your hair.

There are products on the sink that you use, face lotions and hair creams, and more expensive versions of the same type that you could never afford. How did he know?

Then again, he has fucking gorgeous hair, he probably knows more about styling product than you do.

You turn to look at his handiwork upon your bum. The bruise is a red and purple swirl nearly the size of your fist. You can actually see the neat lines of his teeth marks. “Jesus Christ.”

His eye was going to heal way before that was.

When you can’t really dawdle in the bathroom anymore, you war with the next conundrum.

Fresh clothes.

Fuck it. You march out, heading for the closet without making eye contact with the reclining leopard on the bed. You can feel his eyes on you, and fuck if it doesn’t turn you on to be watched like that. Like you are some kind of prize to be desired.

It feels utterly insane to you, to say the least. You’re not that beautiful, but he looks at you like you’re Helen of Troy.

With your hand on the closet door John clears his throat pointedly.

You know you can’t ignore him. Risking his wrath while you’re wrapped in nothing but a bath towel is so not a good idea.

You turn to find he’s laid something out at the foot of the bed for you already.

“Wear this,” he says. It’s an order clothed in velvet. Polite, but…you sense the unyielding directive underneath.

You pad on bare feet to the foot of the bed. It’s a silky lavender nightie with lace at the bodice. Nothing too wacky. No embarrassing peep holes or extraneous straps. You are somewhat relieved.

Until you see the underwear he’s paired with them.

Your underwear, as a matter of fact.

Those went missing a long time ago.

Speechless, you look to him, knowing you look like a fish out of water but unsure what to say.

This has been going on for way longer than you even knew, and you didn’t have a clue.

“You took these from my apartment.” You manage not to yell it.

“I didn’t want you to wear them for anyone but me.” He has the cheek to sound grouchy about it, like you did something wrong.

You feel your temper rising like the mercury in a thermometer. You know you’re going to say something stupid, but you just don’t know how to keep it in.

“How. Fucking. Dare you?”

He just sighs, like he already knows how this is going to go. “Don’t play this game with me, baby.”

You bite down on the impulse to demand he not call you baby.

“You could have just…asked me out. I would have said yes, you know?”

He actually looks away as you tell him this.

“Maybe you would have. Until you realized I’m just a bitter old man, and you would have left me.”

You blink at that. How can he be so smart, and yet so blind?

“I knew you were a bitter old man all along! But you know what? I liked you anyway. I thought you were interesting, and funny, and so fucking handsome, and I wanted to fuck you. But now…” You clench your fists, shaking with all the vitriol you know you can’t unleash on this unpredictable man.

This unpredictable killer.

He takes your fury, seemingly nonplussed. You’re not sure any of it registers at all, and it takes some of the wind out of your sails. “This isn’t love, John,” you say quietly, your throat tightening with every syllable. “Love is…having the courage to bare your heart to the sword, and take what comes. You can’t control it like this.”

He tilts his head at this, a wave of that lovely dark hair covering his face. You get the feeling like he’s hiding from you, when he does that.

Finally he asks, “Have you ever been stabbed, y/n?”

Your heart skips a beat, as you wonder if he’s threatening you. “No.”

“Well let me tell you. It fucking hurts.”

Then he reaches down the bed to pluck up the panties, sticking them in his pocket. “I guess I’ll just keep these. You’re not going to need them anyway.”

You glare daggers at him.

He offers you the slightest, smuggest, smile.

“You sonofabitch.”

“Watch that mouth, kitten. Unless you want me to fill it up with something else.”

You bare your teeth with the thought. “I fucking dare you,” you spit, snatching up the nightie to take it to the bathroom to change.

“Nuh uh,” he interjects. “Change here.”

You freeze in your tracks, understanding exactly what he’s demanding of you.

This is how it’s going to be, you tell yourself. He’s going to be sweet, and then he’s going to be insufferable, and if you’re not careful, he’ll get downright mean. Don’t be fooled by the sweet moods, because all the rest is just beneath the surface waiting.

It was so hard to remind yourself of that, when he was being good to you.

You don’t turn around. You moonlighted as a drawing model after college. You can handle this, right? He’s already seen parts of you anyway…

It’s soooooooooo much different than being in that classroom, when you undo your towel and let it fall to the floor. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your bare form. In the end, knowing it’s just your backside, that he’s already gotten way more than an eyeful of…doesn’t really help. With shaking hands you quickly you pull the nightie over your head.

You hope he feels guilty about the size of that fucking bruise, but you have a feeling he probably likes seeing his marks on you.

“Come here.” He practically purrs, and your flesh aches for the sound. Fuck.

You turn to face him, but do not move. Once again, that glorious boner is making an appearance. It’s almost flattering, how often this man has a hard-on when he’s around you. If this had been a normal relationship, you would have made it your mission to oblige him at every opportunity, just to see what the old man could take.

As it is…all you want to do is fight him, and you know you are destined to lose.

He pats his thigh, as though he expects you to sit on his lap. Without underwear. Or a bra. Or a sense of self-preservation.

You shake your head no with the glitter of moisture in the corners of your eyes. You’ve never felt so helpless in your life, and you hate it.

He frowns at your defiance. My god, no one can do a forbidding frown, like Mr. John Wick. It lodges your heart in your throat, even while you find him magnificent.

“Are you going to make me make you?”

And there it is.

You sigh, and you feel like a piece of your soul exits your body. Good. Good, be empty. He can’t hurt an empty husk.

“I guess so.”

You close your eyes, and you wait. You wait for his rough hands, for the violence that is surely coming to you. You shake like a leaf, unable to stop. You don't know why you'd allowed yourself to hold out some hope, that maybe he really wasn't going to hurt you.

Yet, it does not come.

You open your eyes to find him still frowning at you. He hasn’t moved a muscle.

The longest three seconds of your life tick by. You count them in your thundering heartbeats, and then he scoots over on the bed. “Fine. Come lay by me then.”

You are shocked to your toes. You forget how to move.

“Now.” He snaps his fingers, pointing to the bed beside him, and you scurry over before he loses his patience with this kinder offer. Cautiously you crawl up beside him, and when he holds up his arm you understand the cue, snuggling into his side with your head on his shoulder.

Alright, this, you can do.

This feels almost…normal. The way your head fits into the divot of his shoulder is just…divine, if you’re being honest, and your body shudders as you suppress a sob, hiding your face against his chest. It’s not fair, that you still want him so much, and you mourn for the promise of sweetness that was snatched from your table before you ever really got a chance to taste it.

“Shh,” he soothes, touching your hair, his big hand dwarfing the crown of your head. “I’ll try to remember to be patient with you.”

You nod against him, wanting to believe him, knowing that makes you a sad little fool.

“But my patience has its limits. Remember that, kitten.”

Oh. You weren’t going to forget.

He continues to hold you, and eventually your heart slows, the tension in your body finally relaxing.

It’s incredible, really, how you just can’t leave well enough alone.

Now that you’ve both calmed, you feel bold enough to ask, “John?”

“Yeah, baby?” His lips on the top of your head make your eyelids flutter, it’s so sweet.

“Do you…at least know that it was wrong, to break into my apartment?” You feel like the answer to this one question will help you gauge everything about his state of mind.

He is silent for a long time. Long enough to let your imagination run rampant with the things he might do to punish you for this impertinence, after he was so generous as to just let you lay down with him and snuggle.

Yet there’s no anger in his voice when he answers, “Yeah. But I’ve been breaking the law my whole life, sweetheart, and no one’s stopped me yet.”

It’s the truth, and a nice neat little warning, all wrapped up in one.

You should be scared again, but you just sigh against his chest. Maybe you’ve used up whatever hormone is responsible for adequate fear responses for the day. Or maybe…his games are working on you already, claiming your sanity inch by inch.

You lay there in his arms, and eventually you start to doze. He strokes your hair, a sweet and lulling touch that makes you curl your toes. When those featherlight fingertips find their way to the back of your neck, and the tops of your shoulders, you cannot help but squirm. In your half-asleep state, this is your kryptonite, and your leg tangles with his, your pelvis pressing against his hip. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, to crane your head towards him.

Only when you feel him shift to lean towards you for a kiss, do you realize what you are doing.

You turn your head at the last second, and his grip on you tightens from comforting to bruising in a nanosecond. “Wait—”

He has you on your back before you can blink.

“Are we still pretending you don’t want me, kitten?”

“I…”

Suddenly his hand is between your legs, manhandling you like he owns you, raking up your thigh to swipe at your folds. He finds you soaking wet with slick, of course, and he makes a point to press your clit with his thick fingers as he withdraws. It sends an agonizing jolt of desire spreading through the cradle of your hips, the ache in your stupid little cunt nigh unbearable. You hardly recognize the keening sound that escapes your mouth.

Was that you?

It worsens ten-fold as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. “Tastes like lies to me.”

Goddammit.

“John…”

You can hardly believe it, when he slides off of the bed, leaving you cold and alone, confused and filled with desire. The pulsing ache between your legs drowns out any rational thoughts you might have had a moment ago.

“Little liars don’t get to cum. I’ll let you think about that tonight.”

You feel like you did that night in Italy, watching him walk out the door when all you really want is to feel his thick, insatiable cock teeming inside you.

Which is fucking insane, of course.

And you were thinking he might be the crazy one?

“Same rules, sweetheart. Don’t you dare touch yourself tonight. I’ll fucking know.”

With one last baleful look over of his shoulder he touches his hand to the lock, and sweeps out of the room. He leaves you stunned on the bed, disheveled and unsure, once again, of what the fuck just happened?

#john wick #john wick fic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick #yandere #i didn't think id get a chance to post tonight so BONUS i love you all!

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welldonebeca · 7 months

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Stupid Squeeze (2)

WC: 1.9k words Warnings: Semi-public sex. Dirty thoughts. Oral sex. Size difference. Size kink. Degrading kink. Praising kink. Unsafe sex. Breeding kink.

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Masterlist

Baby was parked in the darkest spot behind the bar, nearly completely hidden.

If they managed to keep their little flower quiet, it would be easy to hide.

Sam glanced at her face, finding her wide-eyed and flustered.

"You can back away anytime, sweetheart," he assured her.

They would never force her into anything.

But she looked at him, shaking her head.

"I just... I've never done it in a car before," she confessed. "I never had the chance."

Dean chuckled, smirking to himself, and Sam let her go, so his brother could kiss her lips.

"Don't worry," he spoke softly. "We are very experienced."

That they were.

Finally, Lily nodded, and Dean smirked before picking her up, leaving Sam to be the one to unlock the door.

His brother lied her onto the seat, spreading her legs and placing himself right there.

Helen was gorgeous. Beautiful.

Her face was cherubic, her round cheeks nearly as attractive as her breasts.

She was full, at every little bit. Her hips, her chest, her cheeks...

Sam could see himself sinking his teeth onto her soft belly on his way to eating out her pussy very happily.

The moment Sam saw her, he'd gotten a hard-on. The curve of her hips, the way her fat ass looked in that tiny skirt.

He could have fucked her right there.

He was surprised when she pushed her fingers into Dean's hair, taking his mind off of his own thoughts.

"No," she whined. "No more teasing."

His brother lifted his hair, and though Sam couldn't see it, he could feel his confusion, and walked near them.

Lily sat up, pouting, growling.

"I believe I was promised some good fucking," she affirmed, at last.

Sam laughed, but she crossed her arms, pouting and he looked at Dean.

Well... she was right, wasn't she?

Dean chuckled, shaking his head and standing up.

"Alright," he stood up. "How do we do that?"

"The backseat can only fit one of us with her," Sam reminded him. "We'll have to take turns."

His brother glanced at him.

"Alright, there," he nodded. "Let me just-"

What now?

"Hey!" Sam interrupted him. "Who agreed you'd go first?"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"House rules, Sammy. It's my car."

He scoffed. As if.

"It's our car," he corrected him. "You just happen to have a monopoly over the driving seat."

They had both been living in that car for their whole lives.

"Well, I'm the oldest," Dean decided. "And I go first."

"No," he shook his head. "That doesn't work like that."

As if he was going to let him take her first!

Dean scoffed, kicking his feet as if he was about to throw a tantrum.

"Dude, every time you go first you are too rough with them," he half whined. "You suck bruises all over them, you bite their tits, you squeeze their hips so hard you leave handprints!"

From the car, Lily whined, and Sam looked over to see her squirming, squeezing her legs together, very flushed.

Oh. Did she like that?

"It's not true," he mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

It wasn't like he marked them... too much.

Dean was just too soft!

He would let any girl top him if he was to have his way!

"Dean-"

"Let's just Rock-Paper-Scissors," his brother decided. "Okay?"

Sam wanted to laugh. Asking for Rock-Paper-Scissors just meant loosing for him!

"Sure," he walked to him.

Sam hit his palm twice, thowing rock right as his brother threw scissors.

There.

His brother grimaced.

"Dammit," he grunted.

But he didn't even fight him.

"Fine," Dean crossed his arms. "Just go."

Wait. Really?

No best of three?

But Dean just sat on the driver's seat, and Sam didn't take any time before grabbing Lily.

"Sam," she whined, taking him from her thoughts.

He looked down at her, holding her by her hips, and pressed her chest against his.

Oh, those tits... he could mark those cheeks.

"Yes, sweet flower?"

She pouted.

"Are you going to mark me too?" she asked timidly.

Sam licked his lips, tempted, before restraining himself.

"Let me check if you're ready for me first," he changed the subject, unbuckling his pants.

It would be a little too hard to take off his pants inside.

Sam took his belt off, shoving it into the car, and guided her to the back seat.

But Lily looked at him with hunger, licking her pink lips.

But he knew just how to fuck in that backseat without much restraint.

If she wanted him to be rough, Sam would love to give it to her.

He tugged on his clothes, quickly revealing and freeing his cock, and her hands were very quick to come to take it.

"Oh," Lily spoke softly.

Her fingers wrapped around him, stroking him slowly.

"It's so big..."

"Turn around, sweetheart," he tilted her chin up. "Raise your ass for me, will you?"

Lily whined, but complied, and Sam sat back a little as she put her knees on the seat.

Fuck, her ass was so gorgeous. Round and so juicy.

He flipped her skirt, pushing it up, and her panties were buried between her ass cheeks.

"Oh no," he faux lamented. "Your panties are ruined!"

They were. Her juices had made the light fabric all transparent now.

He pulled them off, and shoved them into Dean's hand, knowing his brother enjoyed them quite a bit.

"I'll keep these," he decided.

Sam smirked.

Of course he would.

His brother had no shame, taking them to his nose and sniffing them.

"Wet pussy," Dean hissed, looking at her. "Delicious."

Lily whined, and Sam couldn't hold himself, slapping her ass right away.

"You like it, pretty thing?" he hummed. "Bring a drippy slut for us?"

She arched her ass to him.

"Please, Sammy," she shook her ass side to side. "Fuck me?"

His cock throbbed.

How could he say no?

Sam spread her ass to get a better look at her cunt, and took his cock in his free hand, teasing her folds with it.

Fuck, she was so fucking wet, just so slippery.

He pushed the head into her entrance, pushing in, and her cunt squeezed him right away.

The way Lily moaned should have been illegal.

Sam had no patience, just pushing and pushing, engulfed by her wet walls, until he was fully settled inside her.

"Fuck," he groaned.

He leaned over her, covering her whole body with his, and earn a silly moan.

"Sam," her head fell forward.

"Like this, my flower?" he pressed his lips to her ear. "Is this what your pussy needs?"

But before she could even answer, he pulled back and slammed himself all the way into her.

"Fuck!" she cried. "Yes, Sam!"

He growled, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

"Fucking look at you," he pulled back, slamming into her again. "So pathetic, getting fucked by a stranger in his car outside..."

She moaned, silly, her cunt squeezing around his cock already.

"Yes, Sam," she whined.

"You didn't even care that I pushed my cock into you all bare," Sam reminded her. "Don't even care we're not using protection. You really want to be dripping with cum, don't you?"

Lily gasped under him.

"Oh f-"

But he interrupted her, taking his fingers to her clit and rubbing on it hard.

"Fuuuck," she whined.

Her cunt fluttered around him.

"Stupid girl," he rubbed her. "Just a drippy slut for me."

He was going to leave her all stuffed for Dean.

"Maybe we'll even leave a little gift inside you," he teased her, smirking. "Everyone will know you're a knocked-up slut."

She moaned, and he could feel the heat on her neck, as if she was flushing. Her cunt, though, got wetter and tighter.

Oh, she liked that, hm?

"Sam," she whined.

He kissed her neck.

"Why don't you say it, baby girl," he taunted her. "Say you want to be a knocked-up slut."

Lily shook her head, moaning under him.

He clicked his tongue.

No, that, wouldn't do.

Sam took his fingers from her clit and pushed them into her hair, pulling her head back, making her look at him, and buried his cock inside her, not moving.

"Sam!" she yelped.

"If you don't want to be my drippy knocked-up whore, then I'll have to stop fucking you," he reminded her, mockingly. "My cock is bare inside you, I can't risk it, little flower."

Lily whined, squirming, trying to move her hips under him, but Sam was just holding her.

"You're so mean, Sammy," Dean chuckled.

He looked over at his brother, finding him watching them as his arm moved slowly, her panties buried in his nose.

"The poor girl," he lamented.

Sam laughed, shaking his head, angling her to look at him.

"Look at him," he commanded. "My brother is so sweet, little flower. He'd let you walk all over him. He would let you ride him just so he could bury his face in those tits."

Dean moaned, undoubtedly thinking of it.

"But I'm not my brother," he bit her earlobe. "I want to break you. Make you into a stupid little thing that needs cock to live, that needs MY cock to breathe."

She moaned, her cunt squeezing him more.

"Now tell me, my dumb little flower," he made her look at him. "What are you?"

She whined.

"I'm your dumb slut," Lily moaned.

Sam smirked.

"And...?"

She pouted.

"I want to be your knocked-up slut, Sam," she begged. "Please."

Sam couldn't help himself.

Well, she had asked, hadn't she?

He fucked her hard as fast, the sound of his lips slapping her ass echoing loudly.

"Sam!" she moaned, a little too loudly.

She whimpered around them.

"P-ease," Lily moaned.

They laughed together, and Sam closed his eyes at her squeeze.

Fuck, he was getting close already.

He wished he could stay in her forever.

But he had to be a good brother.

Dean deserved a turn.

Sam took his fingers down again, rubbing her clit as he used her.

"You're going to cum for me while I fill you up," he commanded.

She moaned, silly.

"You're gonna cum on a stranger's cock while he knocks you up," Sam laughed. "Look at you."

Lily's cunt squeezed him, fluttering, squeezing.

Sam pressed his fingers harder to her clit, and he closed his eyes when she came right away, drooling all over Dean's fingers and Sam's cock.

"There you go," his brother praised. "Good slut."

Sam groaned, pulling back from her chest, rising from his spot as much as he could and grabbing her hips, fucking her hard and deep.

He was going to paint her insides, fill her up so much his seed would have nowhere to go but into her womb.

He moaned as he released himself, stopping himself from collapsing on top of her, but holding himself back.

The moment his balls emptied inside her, he pulled out slowly to look at the display in front of him.

Fuck, her cunt was all used, swollen and flushed.

"Wish I had a fucking camera," he grunted. "Would keep a memory of the day we put a baby into you."

She whimpered, face down on the backseat, and Dean pulled on his shoulder.

"Hey, you have your fun," his brother grunted. "She is mine now."

…

“Stupid Squeee” was posted on Patreon on February 2023. To read it now before anyone else, subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month and it helps a lot.

…

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fatalezr · 7 months

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The Final Takeover - Part Six

Virginia gave the punchbag another few slugs with her fists, finishing her workout with a final flurry. She wiped the sweat from her brow with a towel and went to sit down. She was feeling good and fresh after her victory the previous week against another opponent in an underground club belonging to her new boss, Helen Monroe. She hadn’t been asked to take a fall in a certain round, and her opponent gave her as much as she could. It was the kind of sporting moment she relished.

She put the towel down and looked up as she heard the heels of Bessie walking over to her in the gym. Her ‘manager’ was wearing a tailored pinstriped suit, white shirt and black tie and had a pinstriped fedora on her head. “Hey” Virginia said, greeting her.

“How you doin’?” Bessie asked her as she approached.

“Good” Virginia said truthfully, “I’m feeling good, I want to get another match organised”.

“Already working on it” Bessie said, “but first I wondered if we could use some of your other talents tonight for a job. Helen personally wants you involved”.

That piqued Virginia’s interest. “Sure” she said. She had no problem with killing some of Capone’s men, and had been practicing with using the Tommy gun ever since she and Bessie met. “What does she want us to do?”

“Well you know we’ve been going after all the signs of Capone’s power in the city, but there’s one we haven’t touched yet until now. It’s his…favourite sporting interest”. Virginia was puzzled by that until Bessie started whistling a tune. It sounded like ‘Take me out to the ball game’ and Virginia suddenly understood.

“Holy shit” she said, “you want to take out the Whitehawks?”. Cicero’s premier baseball franchise had always been under mob control and it was an open secret, no more so than when they won the World Series the previous year. Their opponents had apparently been taking bribes to throw the game. The idea that Capone had paid off the opponents would not be hard to imagine. Between the team and the bookmakers he ran underground, he would fleecing Cicero sports fans all the time.

“Whitehawks? More like dirty cheating hawks” Bessie corrected, and then chuckled. “We’re going to give them a seventh innings to remember” she said, “but we need help getting into position. That’s where you can come in. You ready?”

“Sure thing” Virginia said. She couldn’t wait to get started and followed Bessie outside immediately.

—---

Virginia could hear the shouts of the crowd and the occasional playing of the stadium organ from outside Revolution Park. She sat in a black car next to Bessie, with two other women called Linda and Suzy in the front.

She had changed into what had been one of Bessie’s first gifts to her - a tailored pinstriped suit that marked her out as being a member of Helen’s mafia gang. She wore the suit with a white shirt and black tie, just like Bessie and had put on leather gloves like the other women in the car. Bessie had explained the plan to her. They would sneak into the stadium and when the Whitehawks were in the field in the seventh innings, they would take them out. The issue would be getting past security. They needed to be quiet and spring their trap at the right time and with Virginia’s strength, she could help snap some necks and take guards out quietly and allow the rest of the gang to sleep in.

They were sitting a way outside one of the entranceways to the stadium, looking at two Cicero PD cops who stood with arms folded, looking bored. In the front seat, Virginia could see Linda, a shorter, blonde woman, fiddling with what looked to be a large tube and putting it onto the end of a rifle.

“What is that thing?” Virginia asked Bessie.

“It’s a suppressor” Bessie told her. “Linda here has done a lot of experimenting for us and coming up with better weapons to use them with”.

“I’m trying to” Linda said from the front seat, “it’s not perfect, and I think this suppressor on a rifle could be refined but it’ll work for now.

“I’ve got one on my M1911” Bessie said, and Virginia looked as she undid her jacket and showed the pistol with the long tube inside her shoulder holster, “as does Suzy. We’ve used them on Tommy guns in the past but Helen wants to keep this real hush-hush. Can’t risk alerting the team and the VIPs too early”.

Virginia nodded. The VIPs were also an important part of the plan. They sat in a box close to the field and included the stooges of the team ownership and tonight, Cicero Mayor Howard Hancock, a known crooked politician. They could take him out as well as the team in one evening, showing Capone his hold on the city was well and truly broken. It was only a shame the don himself would not be attending the game, preferring instead to send his lackeys in his place.

One of the guards by the entryway took out a cigarette. “Heads up, this is our chance” Bessie said, and Linda opened the window on the car. She put the rifle with the suppressor to rest on it and took aim. The cop with the cigarette lit it and moved to the side, facing away from his partner.

“Do it Linda” Suzy said from the front seat. Virginia watched as the rifle fired -pap- a strange quieter sound and the guard who was not smoking went down. Linda was already loading another bullet and Virginia saw the smoking cop turn to look towards his partner. He looked alarmed but then -pap- another shot from Linda made him crumple.

“OK, let’s go” Bessie said and Virginia, her and Suzy got out of the car and hurried towards the ballpark, Tommy guns on their backs, Suzy and Bessie drawing their suppressed pistols. Virginia looked at the two bodies and saw Linda had shot each man in the head with impressive accuracy. “She’ll keep us covered” Bessie said, “all we have to do is make sure the rest can follow us”.

They entered the stadium and went down some stairs towards the locker rooms of the players and officials, moving slowly and quietly. When they reached the bottom, Virginia poked her head around a corner. There was a man whistling with his back to her, pushing a linen basket for spare uniforms. There was no other person in sight.

Virginia took her chance, creeping up behind the man before wrapping her hands around the top of his head and the bottom of his neck. She jerked his head violently and heard his neck snap, his body going limp in her gloved hands.

“Nice work” Bessie said, joining her. She pointed further down the corridor. “Let’s keep going”. Above them, Virginia heard cheers and cries from the fans in the stadium watching the game. She flattened herself as they approached the next corner and she could hear two men talking to one another. Their voices got louder as they approached.

Bessie gave Virginia a nod and she spun from the corner as the men reached it, grabbing a man in overalls and muffling his screams with her hand. She gave him a gut punch to take his wind away then grabbed his neck under her arms and used her strength to crush it. The other man received two suppressed bullets into his chest from Bessie’s M1911.

Virginia could see the two changing rooms of the teams. She looked into the visitors room but it was empty. Bessie beckoned her towards the home room and Virginia heard voices inside. It sounded like a player and a coach chatting. She pushed the door open to see both men. One wore the white uniform of the Whitehawks and was carrying a baseball bat whereas the coach was an older man whose uniform fit poorly. The player lifted his bat towards Virginia but she ducked as he swung it and retaliated with her fist into his face. He dropped the bat as he fell to the ground and Virginia picked it up. She raised the bat and crashed it down into his skull, blood spurting to the side from the giant wound she created.

The older coach had surrendered, putting his hands up as Bessie pointed her M1911 towards him. “No, no please…” he said, but as he opened his mouth again Bessie pushed the long suppressor on the end of the gun into his mouth. The man’s eyes widened but then Bessie pulled the trigger. Pap. The man’s head exploded against the wall behind him, spraying blood over the home dressing room. Bessie grinned and Virginia could see how much she had enjoyed the kill.

“Let’s wait here” Bessie advised. Virginia nodded and together they both took the Tommy guns off their back and made sure they were loaded with a 100-bullet magazine. They each had plenty of spares in their suit pockets, as would all the rest of the women involved in the hit. Within a minute, the door to the changing room opened and Suzy led the way in for Helen Monroe and another two dozen of the gang members, all carrying Tommy guns in their gloved hands, all looking powerful, feminine and deadly.

Helen Monroe surveyed the women in the room quietly before taking out a cigar from her pocket. “Ladies” she said, “remember our objective is the team and the VIPs. Now there will be cops in the stadium. Find them and shoot them. And if you get any heroes in the crowd, slaughter them and anyone around them. They call this place ‘Revolution Park’, let it be a symbol of the real revolution happening in this city. Let’s stain the grass and seats with so much blood that they’ll need to demolish the stands just to get rid of it all”.

Virginia smiled. Helen had a masterful way of inspiring her troops. She was looking forward to seeing the faces of the players as she mowed them down. It would be the perfect message for their don, and for anyone else in the country who thought that it was OK to lie, cheat and steal your way to a championship.

The crowd clapped in the bleachers above them and Helen looked around. “That’s our cue” she said, “the seventh innings. The Whitehawks will be in the field but make sure you take out the bench too”. She led the way out of the dressing room like a captain of a sports team would be, the women filing in behind her. Virginia was near the front and ready. Helen’s words had fired her up and she just wanted to be putting players into her sights and ripping their bodies with her bullets.

A cop looked in their direction as they began to climb the steps to the field. Virginia could see the horror in his face as he realised the group he was looking at. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. Helen gave him a quick volley without even glancing in his direction and he went down.

The sound of the gunfire made some in the crowd scream but a second later, Virginia was on the field of play, and the women were fanning out in multiple directions. Virginia walked towards the diamond as more in the crowd started to scream. She saw the third baseman looking at her dumbfounded, perhaps unable to comprehend what was happening. She pointed the gun at him from her hips. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. Her gun exploded into life, as did those of the women around her. The third baseman was lit up by her shots, his white uniform turning crimson as the bullets ripped through his chest.

There were more screams and shouts from the crowd but Virginia paid them no attention. She looked towards the pitcher. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. A long volley of bullets brought him down. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. All around her became chaos and confusion as the women fired. She glanced at Bessie firing into the Whitehawks dugout. In front of her, players started to run, dropping their gloves and trying to sprint away. Virginia was determined to let none escape. She fired low and arched her fire around them all. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. She saw other women doing the same and the players getting cut down, falling and tripping, throwing their hands up in pain as they were killed.

To her left, Virginia saw Helen and Suzy both massacring the individuals in the VIP boxes, their Tommy guns sweeping over the Mayor and the team ownership, turning their suits into nothing more than split fabric. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM.

Virginia reloaded her gun and looked around. She saw two cops running onto the field from the bleachers and shot towards them. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. She took them out. People were screaming behind them and trying to get out of the stadium. There was panic everywhere. Virginia raised her gun higher towards groups of men and started firing. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM, BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM, BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. Bodies started to fall from side to side in the crowd. Anyone who turned in her direction made themselves a target. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. She took out a man who held a glass bottle in his hand and looked to be about to throw it. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. Next it was a man who looked to be going to pick up one of the dead cops' guns.

BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. The ballpark had been turned into a cathedral of submachine gun fire. She chuckled as she reloaded again and went around the players on the field. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. She fired a slew of bullets into the head of her first victim, the third baseman, pulverising his face at close distance. An umpire near him had also been shot. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. She took his head too and walked around other players and officials too. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM, BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM, BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM, BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. Her gunshots into their faces would mean it would take the players jersey numbers to be able to identify them.

Eventually the shooting and screaming stopped. Virginia looked around Revolution Park. It was deserted apart from the women and hundreds of bodies, either on the pitch or in the bleachers. She could hear confusion outside the stadium. There was also the sound of sirens and Virginia suddenly realised that there would be a large number of officers heading towards the ballpark. She looked around, unsure of the next moves but heard Helen shouting “Open those gates” at her and a couple of other women. Virginia looked where she was pointing. There were large gates to the outside in the side of the ballpark and Virginia sprinted to them. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. She shot the padlock on them and heaved one open, two other women doing the same for the other.

Two large military style trucks entered the stadium, both being driven by women in pinstriped suits. “Get in!” Bessie said, pointing at the closest one to Virginia. She did so, being followed in by more women. They sat along the edges. “Face your guns out!” Bessie shouted to the other women and Virginia did so, reloading it and then facing it out of the truck. In the centre was a giant machine gun and Helen Monroe sat behind that, pointing it out of the back of the truck.

“OK ladies, hit it!” Helen said. The truck rumbled into life and they made their way out of the ballpark. There were already a multitude of cops outside. As soon as Virginia saw them, she knew what she had to do. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. She opened fire. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. The rest of the women did the same before Helen joined in with her giant machine gun. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. Cop cars exploded from the onslaught of bullets, officers were cut down and the truck made its way through the mini blockade that the Cicero PD had been attempting to set up.

BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. Virginia kept firing until all her bullets were spent, seeing men cry out in pain or attempt to run as they were fired upon. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. For a few more seconds the onslaught continued until the truck was out on the open road and making its way out of the city.

“Woohoo!” Bessie shouted. “Amazing!” Around the truck, the women congratulated one another and even Helen shouted before firing up her cigar. Virginia knew that once again the women had made history, rewriting the fabric of the city of Cicero with a message so powerful it would make global headlines for sure. The sporting side of the city would be theirs now and the trap for Capone and his allies would be closing in.

#thefinaltakeover #thetakeover #hitwoman #female assassin #killer woman #mafia story #femme fatale

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alexandenigtscreations · 4 years

Photo

Have a sketch prompt you’d like to see? Send me an Ask!

Anon sketch prompt -> here, asked about TMA endgame speculations. And, ho boy, I do have a lot of them. Though I think I managed to get the core theories down.

Going to break this into three broad categories: Together, Apart and Fade Away.

Together:

There are a couple of ways that these two could remain together. 1) they can’t turn the world back and just have to deal with permanent Eyepocolypse. This would mean that Gertrude was right on the tape, that a change of this magnitude can’t be undone. I don’t think this is likely because Jonah was the one that sent the tapes to Jon. He’s going to try and play as many mind games as he can to keep the watcher’s crown in his place. A way out of that would be to make a new ritual to remake the world as best they could (if Jonny wants to give his characters a way out at all). They could also flat out end the world and everyone’s suffering. After all, it is a tragedy.

2) Martin does what Peter Lucas tried to set him up for in the first place and Kills Jonah’s body, taking his place. (I’m personally obsessed with this idea). I think it is likely that Jonah chose Martin to be the replacement for Elias’s body (being that he targeted people with few attachments and were underestimated). Until Lucas took an interest in Martin that is. Martin probably is holding a lot of blame for the eyepocolypse too, being that he could have Killed Jonah right then and there and stopped any of this from happening. There is probably a lot of fear that Lucas was probably being serious with having Martin stop Beholding’s ritual. Or, we could, potentially, lose Martin as we know him. That would definitely screw Jon up pretty bad. Or Martin might be equal in power to Jon. Do think it’s likely that Martin will surprise us again.

3) Twisted: where their trials become to much. They break under the horror of it all and give in to the fear and power. Martin may take Jonah’s spot with a bit of friendly murder and they take up residence in the Watcher’s tower. Maybe Martin refuses to let go of Jon; holding on to the promise of not letting bad things happen to him. Don’t think it’s likely given Jon’s stubbornness and Martin’s steadfastness, but it’s fun :D

I can see them going into more grey moral areas though, and it will be really interesting to see how they deal.

Apart:

Even as an avatar, Jon had been able to go through Helen’s doors. Now? He’s far more powerful than a mear avatar. The old world may not be able to handle someone like Jon. If they manage to create a new pocket dimension to force the fears into, Jon might be dragged along with them. Martin being unable to stop any of it.

This could also be separated by death. Most likely Jon’s. (In one of the Q&A sessions, Jonny mentioned that things would be “especially bad for Martin”) This makes me believe that he will live on after the season 5 finale. Also, the death of the narrator would make for a defined end.

Fade Away:

Following the trail of fear crumbs, I believe that this is the most likely of outcomes. It would give Martin time to say goodbye to Jon. It would give them a respite, and a few more tender moments before Jon collapses in on himself. Jon has mentioned before that he doesn’t want to be a forgotten mystery (I believe this was in the Library of Alexandria episode), but after everything said and done, maybe being a mystery isn’t so bad when compared to an Apocalypse. I’m imagining two types of fade-away scenarios.

1) Relating to Mikaele Salesa’s safe house. Jon just crumbles both mentally and physically in the normal world. Leaving Martin as a caretaker until Jon dies. I HATE this one. Give me blood, murder, bloody worms, but don’t let Jon forget Martin. Damn it! This may occur if Jon does something like blind himself and cut off all connection from Beholding. “Could you even survive at this point?” Martin had asked in season 4, and Jon didn’t have an answer.

2) John Amherst withering away to nothing. If Jon is to fade away, I really hope that it’s like season 4 and it’s mostly his body. John Amherst when entombed in the concrete slab by Gertrude’s assistant, was implied to have died over a period of years after being cut off from frears. I’m hypothesizing that if they end the eyepocolypse, that they wouldn’t be able to fully extract the fears from the world. It would be as before, the fears praying on the most vulnerable. Jon, who was the most powerful being in the eyepocalypse and had been force fed the fears of the Entire World, is probably unable to go back to statements and snaring victims. (though it would be low key hilarious if the whole world just had nightmares about our archivist and he was actually healthy for the first time since joining the Magnus institute). He’s not fully cut off, so he gets to keep his mind, but his body deteriorates.

We might hear Jon’s last moments caught on the tape recorder, ending the final episode. And I don’t know what to do with that, the final “Statement Ends”

Other Things I have no Idea what to do with:

The Web: What do they want? Do they really prefer the world as it was? Do they want it back? Or do they like things as they are now? Annabelle seems to have no trouble pulling strings from Mikaele salesa’s place, so that may mean that the camera doesn’t work on all the fears. I mean, Annabelle is being kept alive by bloody spiders and has been living there just fine, even able to dispatch of creatures of the corruption that wander into the bubble. She’s been there the whole time! And she’s fine!

I think that the web did want the eyepocolypse to happen though. Just that manipulators don’t like to get their hands dirty if they can get someone else to do it for them.

Helen: Love, love, love Helen; but don’t trust her. I understand attaching yourself to the most powerful being in the hellscape, but, she is a being of lies and deception. What is her long game? Does she even think in those terms?

Mikaele Salesa’s Camera: Either it, or something like it will come back again. Jon and Beholding have their own kryptonite guys! Also, he was wandering through the hellscape, looking for a pad to crash in. The hellscape turned back into the world as we knew it when he passed seeming to indicate that it’s still there, under the fear.

Georgie and Melony: Being that Georgie can’t feel fear and Melony ex-communicated herself from the damn eye, pretty damn sure they made their own little safety pocket. What that looks like, and what impact it will have on Jon is unknown.

Basira: Could still try to kill Jon. The world ended, so what the hell right?

Chrysalis: The hell is Jon’s chrysalis? The hell does that mean? Is this physical? Metaphorical? or Both?

Tape Recorders: Given that these bad boys were able to work in the Mikaele Selesa’s safe house, just want to know what their story is and where the tapes go when they finish recording. Can’t really picture Jon or Martin carrying around a cassette collection in the eyepocolypse.

Marked: So, Daisy was able to hurt Jon because of the strength of the mark she made before the eyepocolypse, makes me wonder what other avatars that marked our archivist could do to Jon.

Statement Ends

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

Text

'Tying up the loose ends'

Summary: After the battle of Solovetsky & tying up a loose end, Adler realized that another loose end needs to be removed to ensure the greater good.

To read it on AO3, click here!

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That was his specialty, he was the man of the job.

Russell Adler...' America's Monster', the man never actually appeared inside the official's archives of the CIA and he prefers to keep it that way, the agency giving the hardest missions to make sure that the work is done perfectly without anything wrong and when Perseus come back to play after that pursuit in Turkey, it was sure as hell that the CIA would let him take the lead, knowing of his past & his actions against Perseus.

Of course, he wasn't alone in his fight: Helen Park, Eleazar Azoulay, Lawrence Sims, Frank Woods, Alex Mason, Hudson & then, Bell. Bell was different, she wasn't one of them, she never was, he thought to himself each day despite the devotion that Bell was giving to the mission, having taken it at heart and her words proved to have been crucial for the greater good. It was her who told everyone where was hidden Perseus: Solovetsky, the monastery at Solovetsky...few minor words and Bell told them, making them so important as it was still echoing inside Adler's head during the whole preparation phase of the mission.

She did allow the CIA to put an end to Perseus's actions with Greenlight but she wasn't one of them, she never was. He never saw her as her brothers-in-arms, he put inside of her his own memories along with Sims ones, she was remembering her days in the Khe Sanh Valley, riding in a Huey with Adler & Sims during Fracture Jaw but she was never there, everything was fake, nothing was real, she was lied to...and Adler never regretted it, his actions were necessary, he couldn't let Perseus win and for that, a sacrifice has to be made. Taking a subject's will is hard & extremely painful but it was the necessary sacrifice. She was just a Russian with his & Sims memories running.

There were never any questions that Bell was going to leave the island alive, he was ordered to dispose of her during the battle to make her death look a normal one but it was the first thing he couldn't do, Bell was needed, and...he was a gentleman, dying like that ain't nothing. So, he knows that her death needed to happen in a secret spot, on a cliffside. He wanted to give her a beautiful place to die as the part of gentleman he had...and he did, he was a man of his words. Letting her go like that? No chance in hell, what if she goes tell everyone of what happened to her? No, that wasn't going to happen, he knows that well.

He did a great speech about how her actions were important but were he meant it? No, she was just a Russian...he couldn't trust her since she knows. Of course that it was sure that she would draw her gun alongside his as she too wasn't stupid of what Adler would do with her but unfortunately, the 'America's Monster' pulled the trigger first and a bullet flew, hitting on the right side of Bell's head, instantly making her fall on the ground but it wasn't enough for him, he wanted to giver her another bullet but as he thought, the sea was a better way to make someone disappear. So, without remorse, he made her body roll on the ground with his feet before her body falls from the cliffside, a fall of 50 meters in the cold water of the Barents Sea.

It was one less loose end for him, Bell wasn't going to speak anymore and Adler was feeling better, his dirty secrets now buried in the deeps of the Barents Sea and his eyes behind his usual sunglasses were still looking down at the sea before he released a long & relaxing breath, seemingly happy with his choice to do the dirty work, it was his specialty. He wanted to go now, joining back the others with the story he was fabricating in his head about how Bell 'died bravely' but now, he needed something: a simple cigarette. He already smoked one when he arrived here with her but he wanted another one, he was surely a big smoker.

He took a cigarette from his pack he was always keeping in his blue jacket and his lighter that he was always used since Vietnam's War, the only thing that he kept with him of that time...including the scars at his jaw but those were giving to the other a feeling that he wasn't the man to fuck with, a fear of fighting him in hand-to-hand combat but at least, it was helping him a lot. Now, he just wanted to take a break but the short loneliness wasn't going to continue any longer as he was hearing footsteps coming from the path he took with Bell to get here.

"I said that I wanted to be alone," Adler reminded the person that was coming here, his cigarette right between his lips as the footsteps stopped near him, not bothering at all to look at the person.

"Where's Bell?" That person...was none other than Helen Park herself, she wasn't supposed to be here as she was still wounded & needed to go back to London but she insisted...Adler insisted, knowing that she would miss the chance to beat down the Perseus Collective. "Adler, where is she?" She asked him again.

"Why bother with it anymore?" He mumbled, taking his cigarette off his lips before he decided to look at her, her face still having the marks of Cuba, some bruises & cuts half-covered in dressings. "She's dead, Park," He simply said like that before he turned around again to look at the horizon.

"How?" She demanded, her voice a bit broken as that news wasn't the thing she wanted to hear at all. "Adler, HOW?" She yelled at him after seconds as he wasn't opening his mouth at all, she just wanted to know, why it was so hard for him to speak.

"I killed her, it was the job," He sighed, proving not a single remorse in his voice.

"No...no...no!" Park, she was literally taken aback by that, letting Bell staying with Adler was the stupidest idea the world could have, she knows the man well. "Why did you do this?" She questioned him, feeling the rage in her voice & body.

"She couldn't live, you know that," Adler replied, his eyes posed on the cigarette between his fingers, looking at it with great interest before he took a breath and throw it sightly in the sea. "Bell was a terrorist, I see no problem with it," He affirmed, apart right on it.

"Maybe...but do you remember what I told you?" She started, pointing him with her index finger, hidden by her light black gloves. "We could have helped her about her past, maybe she wasn't a terrorist, maybe that we just fucked over her life," She stated, Bell's old life was a mystery, the prejudices of Adler made her for the others, a terrorist but not long for some...including Park. "We had a deal, Adler, I was going to let her join the MI6..."

"Deals are meant to be broken, Park!" Adler raised his voice against her, fully turning his body around to look at her again. "Bell maybe helped us but she was irredeemable," He told her, his hands along his body, staying near his holster in necessity. "It's not your love for her that was going to help her," He added, remembering the time of seeing Bell & Park discreetly...the two with each other, that was almost making him angry, that wasn't something he wanted.

"It was going to but you & your fucking ideas, she was one of us," Park shouted, his index finger tapping over her heart. "She was mine," She continued in a low voice, her voice almost on the verge of breaking.

"She was never one of us and if she was living, she will never be one of us," Adler insisted, clenching his right fist, not in anger but just because he wanted to. "She was a loose end to neutralize, deal or not deal...one of the things I needed to dispose of," He sniffed, thinking of things and what he did, not ashamed by those before his eyes behind his sunglasses checked her up. "Bell wasn't the only loose end here," He said.

"What do you mean?" She raised an eyebrow to him but inside of her, she was starting to process what his words were meaning...and it wasn't going to please her at all.

"Do you think that the CIA will allow an MI6 agent to walk around, knowing about Greenlight and what I did?" He asked her obviously, his right hand slowly moving towards his holster as she was looking down at her feet. "Because of what you did, you became a target for the CIA, having painted your own target on your back," He told her, taking the advantage that she wasn't looking but she knows well.

"And I presume that...Hudson ordered you that? Or was it your other boss, Black?" She guessed to him, Adler's orders were surely coming from the two as her mind was trying to figure out what to do now. "You surely want me to get on my knees?" She demanded.

"I can make things easier if you do," He exclaimed as he finally reached the handle of his gun, ready to draw it out.

"In your fucking dreams!" She shouted before she got her head up, finally ready to do what she wanted to do for a long time to Adler himself.

Adler's first reaction was to quickly draw his gun from its holster and fire a bullet in her direction but she was moving too fast for that and in just 2 seconds, she was already in front of him, her both hands on the gun to throw it away from his hand as his finger start to pull the trigger, firing multiples bullets in the sky until the sound of clicks were heard, the gun now fully emptied but the two were still struggling for it, Park filled with rage, Adler...with nothing but only a desire to get the job done.

He took the first real move by clenching his left fist and striking her right into the chest with it, causing her to lose slightly the control over his gun but her response was to knee kick at his belly...one time...two times...three times and Adler get his hand off the gun, throwing it at the ground before Park grabbed him by the collar of his blue jacket, and then, make him roll over her with all her might before she made him land on his back on the dirt, getting herself in top of him at his chest level.

"That's for Lazar," She clenched her both fists, having Adler's head at her mercy before she starts to punch him with the best she could give. "That's for Bell," She continued in her words, each punch was from someone she loses, Bell & Lazar been the person she lost...they weren't here anymore and Adler caused their deaths. "That's for making me a monster," She shouted, striking him in the face with a punch so powerful that Adler's sunglasses broke at the impact in half. "And that's for....Bell...ag-" She tried to give him another punch but he managed to free one of his hands blocked by her legs to hit her in the face before moving his legs to push her away.

He got up at his feet, passing his hands and feeling the pain & blood across his fingers, each punch she gave made him angrier than before, never someone managed to give him a taste of his own medicine during that type of situation. He then looks at Park herself, also going up on her feet, slightly seeing her bloodied face too, her nose bleeding.

"I've got to admit, you do very well," Adler scoffed to her, spreading his arms to signify that it wasn't finished yet. "Too bad that she didn't do it," He joked about Bell's inability to actually do something instead of simply draw her gun, and that caused Park to enter a full instance of rage, more powerful than before.

She took a deep breath before she charged at him again, putting everything she's having into her shoulders before she threw herself away on Adler's chest who in a second moved his arms around her as she was having her arms around his waist. This charge could have made someone fall on the ground again but not here, Adler managed to hold on at his feet, only making a few steps behind him, not so far enough of the cliffside.

Seeing that she was trying to make him roll over her again, he decided to use his both elbows to nudge her violently at her back and what he could hear during those was Park's screams of pain as her hold against him was getting firmer, trying, in fact, to choke him and let him lose controls but he was holding on. She knows that she needed to stop, her moves weren't doing anything and it was only causing her back to receive a lot of pain.

The punch that Adler was giving stopped when Park moved away from him by herself before landing another punch on Adler's bloodied face, so much that Adler actually got almost knocked out by it, succeeding to hold on with his right hand on the ground, he was in pain but he wasn't going to give up even if she was going to kick him in the guts while he was trying to get up but then, he knew that his hands weren't going to do the job.

As she was going to strike him again, his right hand moved quickly at his jacket, grabbing his own knife strapped to it and with his might, he countered Park's knee before he stabbed her kneecap with his knife, causing a cry from her that could petrify anything around in a radius of 2 kilometers and he was insisting, turning the knife in the wound before he stopped it...to stab her right into the right shoulder, and then...her cries stopped, her face looking scared, at Adler who was emotionless at her.

Her hands were trembling as her eyes were on the knife that Adler planted at her shoulder before she decided to kneel on the ground, exhausted, wounded as Adler was getting in front of her, staying normal to her despite her state, he would have healed her but not here, she became a loose end to neutralize since she got her eyes on Bell since she touched closely her in her intimacy, she loved her...and that's why Adler needed to tie up another loose end.

"Why...why?" Park asked as she was breathing to keep her calm, knelt on the ground as behind her, it was the sea and its birds singing.

"Even if you weren't loving Bell, you were a loose end, Park," Adler replied as he got to sit, looking at her in the eyes. "You weren't the only one in here, Lazar was too," He revealed but Park was too much hurt to actually have anymore rage & anger inside of her, just having her hands down on her lap, waiting. "She died as Lazar did in Cuba,"

"You're an asshole," She cursed, tasting the blood inside her mouth. "I should have never worked with you," She continued as Adler was reaching out with his hands, his broken sunglasses. "You made me into a monster," She proclaimed to him, who wasn't looking at her, her mind wanting to shut him up for good but her body wanting to give up.

"You helped me to brainwash her, you're more guilty than I am," He claimed loudly, the two sharing the blame of that but if Adler thinks it was necessary, Park was mixed in reality, feeling regrets and hatred for herself. "And now, I'm cleaning up the loose ends...you were the last one," He added, his eyes peaking on his pistol on the ground a few meters from them.

"You never cared, you're worst than Perseus," She stated and these words caused him to move his hands towards her, holding her by the chin.

"Listen to me, I'm not worst than Perseus as you just said," He threatened her, holding her jaw firmly with his right hand and his left hand, going to make a bad pressure on her stab wound at her shoulder, causing a scream to come out of her mouth before he moved his hand above it, shutting her. "It was always for the greater good, you are dangerous to live on and I can't let that happen," He added before he removed himself from her, looking at her with disapproval.

"The greater good...was it something that we are or something we want to pretend?" She asked him but her words fall in the sea without any response from him as he got up on his feet before he put his right feet above his chest, ready to push her off the cliffside. "You know...I'll be waiting," She whispered, looking at his feet on her.

"We'll see about it," He told her.

"See you...in Hell, Adler," She taunted him before Adler finally decided to push her over from the cliffside.

He looked at her falling into the sea, spreading her arms during the fall before she disappears into it, the waves washing away the scene, and now, Adler was alone again, having done his work. Bell was a loose end, Lazar was a loose end, and Park, she became one too. She was like Lazar & Bell: they knew too much about what Adler could do and his actions and even if he wasn't ordered to do that, he was willing to make them disappear anyway.

Adler was still emotionless at having killed his former friends and the person that helped him with the brainwashing, she wasn't loyal to him but to that Crown and the MI6, not to the president and the CIA. She was a loose end like the others, she couldn't leave the island too and now, the sea was burying Park's & Bell's bodies together but that wasn't something he wanted to know, he didn't care about them at all, not having a single second of compassion towards the two. He only shook his head before he could finally start to walk away from the scene, having got the job done...and tying up the loose ends...

That was his specialty, he was the man of the job!

#cod bocw #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #call of duty cold war #cod #call of duty #black ops cold war #helen park #russell adler

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magnusmysteries · 3 years

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Part 17: Grant or Gareth or Gary or Gavin

The Magnus Archives was a horror podcast. It is now completed. Many of the show’s mysteries were never explained on the show. I intend to explain them. Spoilers for the show, but also spoilers if you wanna solve these mysteries yourself.

Another mystery for you to solve. In Scrutiny Jess goes on a date with a man whose name she can’t remember. She thinks it might be Grant or Gareth or Gary or Gavin. Can you figure out his name? It’s pretty hard, but I’ll give lots of hints.

Hint 1: It’s not Grant, Gareth, Gary or Gavin.

Hint 2: The handshake is a clue.

Hint 3: This is not the only episode the date appears in.

Hint 4: In Threshold John talks about taking a statement from Jess. He says the recorder didn’t turn on. Why didn’t it turn on?

Hint 5: The hand that gripped Jess underground is a clue.

Hint 6: The hand that gripped Jess underground belonged to the date.

Hint 7: What I said in part 16 is relevant…

Hint 8: ...but the date is not the Distortion.

Hint 9, last hint: The reason Jess goes on and on about the name is a clue that the name is important. The name begins with a G.

Solution: The date is Gabriel, the Worker-in-Clay. Helen wants the Eye’s apocalypse to happen. So she wants John to take victims and be strong so he can survive the challenges. We see her encourage John to feed on victims in Threshold and Rotten Core. When John enters the corridor in Flesh, Helen gives him fake memories of having fed on two victims. So in Doomed Voyage when John meets Floyd on the boat, John feeds on him. John has lost his inhibition to feed on random strangers, because he wrongly believes he has already done it twice.

Helen also wants to ruin John’s relationship with his friends. Without other friends, John is more likely to rely on Helen. Helen contacts Gabriel. Gabriel goes on a date with Jess, who is one of his old victims. He gives Jess false memories of John taking her statement. Jess complains to the Magnus Institute and everyone gets mad at John. When John and Basira enter the corridors at the end of Heart of Darkness, Helen gives John false memories of having fed on two more victims, including Jess.

Gabriel makes Jess forget his name, but not perfectly. Grant, Gareth, Gary or Gavin all sound a bit like Gabriel. They sound even more like Gabe, which is what Gabriel is called in the Puppeteer. Maybe Gabriel also changes Jess’ memories of what Gabriel looked like on the date?

In Sculptor's Tool we see Gabriel can change people’s memories. Deborah’s memories of what day of the week sculpture class is changes. Sculptor's Tool also establishes that Gabriel and the Distortion are friends.

The date shakes Jess’s hand. Gabriel shakes Deborah’s hand. Jess gets a bruise on her leg after the hand grabs her. Deborah gets marks on her hand after shaking hands with Gabriel. Deborah says Gabriel's hand is damp. Jess says the hand that grabbed her was like wet sand. Both hands are wrong, one with spiraling fingerprints, one with fingers in the wrong place.

Gabriel thanks Deborah, in a creepy way. The fake John, created by Gabriel, thanks Jess in a creepy way. Fake John says he is from the Magnus Institution rather than the Magnus Institute. That’s Gabriel’s spiral nature shining through, he’s saying institution like in mental institution. John’s recorder doesn’t turn on during those statements, because those statements never happened.

Jess says “Every time I do, every time I get that – panic just rising up my throat, I see him. He’s there. Not when I look properly. But just at the edge. The corner of my eye”. We have heard of no other of John’s victims seeing him when they are awake. Maybe Gabriel does not have the ability to change people’s dreams. Maybe he follows Jess around and gives her memories of having nightmares instead.

The Spiral is next to the Buried on the wheel. (see Part 3). I think Gabriel is part Spiral part Buried, which is why he makes Jess claustrophobic. (I think in Lost Johns’ Cave, the pale hand holding the candle belongs to Gabriel. Lost Johns’ Cave had claustrophobia and false memories. And hands are obviously a theme for Gabriel. I also think Gabriel is responsible for the vase in Lost and Found. A clay vase, a man whose memories don’t match reality, and two creepy hands coming out of the vase. The hands have dirty fingernails, like from working with clay.)

Some might object, didn’t Gabriel die in Another Twist? “The-Worker-of-Clay tore out his veins to dissolve himself in crimson mud. The others of us were cast to all the places that aren’t; some have still not found their way out again.” Not sure dissolving would kill him. This is a guy who can have his face move away from his skull, and have shifting clay beneath. And if I’m right he can also appear inside a vase. Maybe he just dissolved himself temporarily so he wouldn’t be cast to the places that aren’t. And even if he died, he might have come back, like the darkness monster inside Rayner.

Basira also went through the corridor. Was her memories messed with too? I think so. The next time Basira meets Elias, Basira beats him up. I think this is out of character for Basira. I think Helen gave Basira fake memories of being an angrier and more violent person. That way Basira gets even angrier at John.

In Threshold John asks Helen if the Web can manipulate another avatar, meaning John, and make them feed on victims. Helen laughs and laughs. She knows she’s the one that’s been manipulating John to feed.

#the magnus archives #tma #magnuspod #jess terrell #jonathan sims

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hopevalley · 3 years

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Season 8, Episode 2: Honestly, Elizabeth

I think I’ll do all my write-ups this year scene-by-scene. It’s easier to keep track of everything that happens in the episode that way, and I can write up thoughts while I’m watching the episode.

I’ll just jump right in!

Scene 1: Narration/Jack Jack

The first scene starts out with Elizabeth writing in her journal about the arrival of Lucas’s mother to town, and I think the writing here was actually polished up as to be concise and fairly decent. I didn’t mind seeing Jack staring at his father’s picture, but I think what would have made a much more compelling scene would have been for him to turn away from the picture and pick up a toy off of the ground and just start playing with it. Something symbolic of moving on, or at least of Jack’s lack of connection to his father at this age. While he’d certainly be curious when he gets older, at his current age he has no real reason to care.

Elizabeth waxing poetic about how strong and brave Jack was, and how her son embodies those same traits is…I don’t know. It came off a little silly to me—like it was trying just a little too hard to be meaningful.

—

Scene 2: Lucas check on Helen

I like that Lucas seems to care for his mother a lot, and that he wants to help her. I think he realizes there’s perhaps more to her visit than merely wanting to see Elizabeth, but isn’t willing to push for that kind of information. My guess is that they’re just not that emotionally close to one another.

—

Scene 3: The Crate of DOOM

Joseph from the railroad brings a delivery for Lee and in helping Joseph carry it, Lee hurts his back. This was a genuinely good scene. CALLCARSONCALLCARSONCALLCARSON. It also has the advantage of making everyone feel friendly and neighborlike. Elizabeth popping out of her house, Jesse just stopping by… It was nice.

—

Scene 4: Nathan and Elizabeth Talk

Opal’s dress was really cute in this scene, and Robert really is growing up fast! I’m glad Allie and Opal seem attached to him; the show feels more cohesive with its little friend groups and it’s been hard to really show that off since Cody left. Allie fills that void easily and I think gets better lines/dialogue/scenes as well. She gets treated like a character of the appropriate age.

Also, Nathan treating Robert respectfully is nice. It comes off like he recognizes Robert’s good intentions and genuine enthusiasm and treats him appropriately, too.

The little quip about Allie being interested in boys was cute (and not over-the-top), and I like that Nathan is the first to bring up the missed…dinner date. Elizabeth’s response is interesting to me; she does seem a little more enthusiastic, at least about how fun it would have been had she followed through on it. When Nathan suggests they could try it again, though, she clams up. I think what’s interesting about it is that she doesn’t look disgusted or unhappy with the idea, just…a tad uncomfortable—like she wants to say something but can’t/won’t. A pretty good scene.

—

Scene 5: Introducing Joseph Canfield

At this point in the episode I knew I’d love Joseph. He’s so wholesome and pleasant both in his demeanor and his offer to pray for Lee.

—

Scene 6: Nichols and Dimes

I really am enjoying Fiona’s interactions with Mike Hickam. Actually, I’m enjoying that Mike gets any lines at all. He’s a pretty good actor and deserving of the screentime. Also that man has a butt and they’re showing of in like, every other scene he’s in LOL. Fiona trying to explain the reason for the name of the shop is quirky without being too over-the-top I think. It works well enough and I think lends some more personality to her character.

This scene gave us some more low-key genuinely funny stuff with Jesse repeating “Nichol isn’t spelled that way, right?”

Henry’s surprise at the barber being a woman isn’t too over the top either. At this time, barbers would just about always be men, because not only did they handle haircuts and shaves, but it served as a gossip (and business, as Fiona mentioned in the last episode) center for all the men in the area AND the barber usually also treated things like toothaches and first aid if a doctor wasn’t around.

I admit her reaction to all the men running off was...a bit surprising. I figured her feelings would be hurt, but she literally just laughs it off, maybe just too excited at having her own business to continue to think about, you know, what will happen if she doesn’t get customers.

—

Scene 7: Joseph runs out of gas.

There isn’t much to say here, but when he walks back to town he sings “It Is Well with My Soul” which was always one of my favorite hymns. My pastor had his own piano arrangement of it and everything. I knew from this moment forward that I would defend him to the death.

—

Scene 8: At the clinic

This is probably not the most...accurate medical scene ever, but it wasn’t bad. The best part about it was actually Molly, though. It looks like she’s really thrown herself into working with Carson and she’s used to it and even enjoys it!

—

Scene 9:Nathan and Bill talk

The scene is super simple but I think it was excellently done. Nathan wants to adopt Allie and Bill thinks that’s a fine idea in theory, but in starting proceedings (court filings, public notices, et cetera) he could stir things up. It sounds like Bill and Nathan spoke about Dylan since Bill knows how Dylan found him (the newspaper article).

Bill mentions a fee and at first I thought this was going to be the start of a really sour joke about Bill being greedy or something, but to my surprise (AND IMMENSE RELIEF), they were just discussing it like a business transaction...which it is. Nathan trusts Bill to be fair with that... AND I LOVE IT.

Allie’s mother’s full name is Colleen Mayes Grant. Allie’s full name is Allison Mayes Parks. Would Parks also be Colleen’s full name if she were married to Dylan? Am I missing something here?

Anyway, Nathan and Bill then talk about the money that Nathan used to trap Dylan, and Nathan admits he got it from Lucas, which...surprises Bill.

“You asked Lucas?! You do love your niece.” Nathan is a little amused by it, but I think this is interesting. I mean, 1) Nathan asked Lucas in the first place, which is telling, but also, 2) Lucas loaned him the money without even asking what it was for. Maybe they are not on such bad terms after all, lol. ;)

Nathan points to a map and asks about some land, and Bill says he owns that land, and that he was thinking of building a cabin on it but he’s just not really that sure he wants to. Nathan asks if he’d be willing to sell and Bill (jokingly) asks, “How much of that money did you give back to Lucas?”

Good scene, wholesome scene. I genuinely enjoy watching these two interact. It almost reminds me of the older seasons when Bill and Frank and Jack would all scheme together; stuff like this just helps build up the characters a lot, and it helps the town feel...real.

—

Scene 10: Lucas and Elizabeth Chat

This was a short but nice scene. I think it’s clear Lucas is a bit worried about his mother and asks Elizabeth to visit her in the hopes that it might encourage her to talk to someone or feel better.

At first I thought this was perhaps a bit much, like...she barely knows the woman why would Helen even want a visit from Elizabeth? But then I thought...well, Lucas is probably thinking of the fact that Elizabeth has spoken with Helen now and again about her writing, so a visit from her would be expected since she’s in town.

I like Elizabeth’s honesty in admitting she was intimidated by Helen. “So she does bite!” Kind of a cute/silly scene. I liked it.

—

Scene 11: Rosemary and Elizabeth talk.

This was probably the second weakest scene in the episode. Rosemary just says hi and tells Elizabeth she can’t help with anything regarding Lee, and then Elizabeth says she’s off to visit Helen, and Rosemary says “Oh, the old saying...the way to an editor’s heart.”

Elizabeth replies with, “I don’t think that’ show that saying goes.”

I think they were trying for Funny here but it misses its mark and doesn’t really add anything to the episode. I’d have rather had an earnest word of encouragement from Rosemary.

—

Scene 12: Elizabeth visits Helen

There are a lot of things to like about this. Helen takes her job very seriously, and corrects Elizabeth (“book” vs. “manuscript”—it ain’t a book yet!). Helen comments on Elizabeth being undisciplined but this is an objectively true statement (whether Elizabeth likes it or not).

I think Helen is actually really understanding when Elizabeth blurts out that she was late with her first draft because, “I decided not to let my writing interfere with my life.” She’s pretty calm about it, and says maybe her trip was for nothing.

Elizabeth springs back and hurries to explain that while her writing means a lot to her, and she takes it seriously, it’s also not her main source of income. I was really worried that Helen was going to come off as this huge bitch hurting Poor Widdle Ewizabiff’s Feewings but I think she’s actually pretty great in this scene. She doesn’t come off as the bad guy, but neither does Elizabeth. In fact, I feel like both characters communicate quite cleanly and it seems Helen appreciates Elizabeth’s spunk, haha.

—

Scene 13: Henry and Lucas have a meeting

The writers straight up wanted to negate some of what happened last season, and I think that was a smart choice. There are some lines in this scene that I really enjoy a lot. “I like you, Henry. I don’t know why, but I do.” I think Lucas likes Henry because he’s been mostly up front with Lucas about his methods...which he does here, too.

“I’m willing to get my hands dirty.”

Henry’s proposal is that he will double the crude output in the first year he’s back as Lucas’s partner, and if he doesn’t manage it, he will walk away. However, if he is successful, he becomes majority owner at 60% and is allowed to make all business decisions.

This is a very good opportunity for Lucas, provided he trusts Henry can at least maintain current output. He loses nothing if Henry walks away and he loses hardly anything (in fact, he loses a bit of profit and a LOT of responsibility) if Henry manages it and stays on.

When asked why he had a change of heart, Henry says he “has his reasons.”

—

Scene 14: Joseph comes back to town + Fiona’s

This actually isn’t its own separate scene, but rather, the camera pans from the previous scene to Joseph walking into town.

Joseph stops Hickam about getting some gas, but Hickam is sent away to hold up his end of a bet while Jesse helps Joseph.

The camera then is in Fiona’s barbershop, so I’m counting these two scenes together. Hickam asks for a trim and she agrees to do it. He apologizes for running off earlier and she accepts his apology with grace and says she’s glad he came back. He tells her it was the right thing to do and she calls him out instantly for having accepted a bet from Jesse.

This is a pretty funny little joke, but the best part about it is actually how it ties Hickam and Jesse together. They’re around the same age and they could be friends; I like the implication. Some of the male friendships have suffered a bit in recent years so it’s nice to see those getting a splash of attention.

Anyway, Fiona doesn’t take offense and Hickam seems relieved.

—

Scene 15: Sergeant gets some pats

Sergeant is a good boy and so deserves some pats! The only thing I hate about this scene is the dialogue. Robert is like, a farm boy...and you’re telling me he’s never ridden a real horse? Please. This is in a time period where most of these kids would know how to ride a horse. He’s no larger a horse than any other horse in town! The bigger concern should be that Sergeant is an ex-mounted police horse, which means he needs a more experienced rider (and that certain signals could mean different things to Sergeant than they would mean for a farmhorse).

It’s still pretty cute overall, but I think they could have had the kids currying him or something instead. “We can start by patting him” seems a little silly when this horse has been patted by everyone in town 3 billion times by this point.

The camera then adjusts to the window of the saloon’s upstairs room where Helen is watching Elizabeth spend time with the kids.

She’s more or less smiling and watching Elizabeth and the kids, studying them. As predicted, she has already decided she likes Elizabeth.

—

Scene 16: Hickam narrowly avoids death

Or more like, he moves while Fiona is trying to cut his hair and she gets his ear with the scissors. He literally runs out of the barbershop, past Helen and Lucas who are now out for a walk, and straight to the clinic.

—

Scene 17: Rosemary talks to Elizabeth and the kids

This is a continuation of the last scene where the camera catches Rosemary from outside the clinic (as Hickam goes in) and follows her over to Elizabeth where she says hello (they are still with Sergeant but over by the church now).

I’m a little tired of these Cute Widdle Opal moments. She’s like, nine years old. The fake smiling and “oh my goodness!”ing is too much for me at this point. I probably hated this scene the most.

—

Scene 18: Lucas talks with his mother

Helen calls out the situation exactly for what it is: Elizabeth is the reason Lucas has settled in Hope Valley, and Lucas and Nathan are vying for Elizabeth’s hand. Lucas admits these are both true.

Just a nice little scene. Helen seems pretty normal and good here.

—

Scene 19: Elizabeth talks to Nathan

On her way out of the mercantile (with a cloth to clean Opal’s face) Elizabeth runs into Nathan who is on his way up to Bill’s land to check it out. She says he must be serious if he’s going in the middle of the day out to look at it, and he says he is. “I think it’s time I settle down.”

She walks down a step or two and turns after him as he’s about to go into the mercantile: “Nathan? When you’re back from your trip, perhaps we could get together?”

And he agrees to this, almost in a tone that’s like, he doesn’t want to seem too excited.

As soon as Nathan is in the store, Robert goes flying by on Sergeant with the worst posture I’ve ever seen.

Elizabeth steals Newton from Nathan and goes after Robert, catching up to him and dragging him back to town right in front of Jesse and Joseph.

Joseph is of course iMMEDIATELY like: “I want to live in this crazy place.”

This isn’t how I would write a scene like this, mostly because I would assume that Robert could ride a horse (and his posture later kind of says this...lol) and it’s really hard to film something like this without it Actually Being Dangerous (mostly due to the gravel in town—a horse could kick that into someone’s face and they’d be messed up, or they could slip in it)(also, the filming location doesn’t have a lot of Large Spaces where they can really let a horse gallop safely). I’d probably have a stunt double dashing off at an actual run if possible, and show Elizabeth catching up to Robert who has been thrown from the horse. He’s fine (landed in some prairie grass or something) but then it’s actually really scary.

Her “catching up” and “helping” just doesn’t work very well when it’s very clear these horses are moving at a leisurely pace.

But if you can use your imagination it wasn’t a bad scene.

—

Scene 20: Lee and Rosemary

It’s the next morning, and Rosemary helps Lee sit on the couch. Rosemary gives him his coffee but there’s no sugar in it (this is hard to believe; they’ve been married how long? She’s been making this every day for how many years?) and she boogies over to Elizabeth’s.

—

Scene 21: Rosemary and Elizabeth have a chat

Rosemary talks to Elizabeth about the chase after Robert and then to little Jack and there’s a little moment where she looks at Jack and talks about how her and Lee like hearing him laugh when the weather is nice and the windows are open. It was a nice touch.

Rosemary offers to babysit until Laura arrives.

It’s a nice scene but I’m a little tired of the babytalk for a child that is way older than they’re acting. This is a 2-3 year old child, not a baby who can’t talk.

—

Scene 22: Bill meets Joseph Canfield

Joseph came back to town to have another look around and consider buying the gas station. He mentions the church, and Bill says they don’t have a pastor right now because “he left to become a missionary.” I’m not sure which pastor they’re talking about here: Zeke or the guy before him, or even Frank? My guess is Zeke since they took the time to give him a name, and there’s no reason why Frank would do that when he’s been written away as finding his calling in mentoring/pastoring/caring for terminally ill children.

Joseph says he’s looking to settle down and would like it to be Hope Valley, which is....sudden. I’m not sure what the script could have said instead, but maybe if there was some kind of hint that his wife isn’t happy in their current situation? Or maybe that he’s been looking around and that he found Hope Valley when he wasn’t even looking—just doing his job.

It’s a hard sell either way. There’s a whole lot of nothing in this area, so it’s hard to imagine Hope Valley wouldn’t be on the map with a railroad stop...lol...

Joseph says he doesn’t want to build, so Bill says he knows a guy.

Good scene. I’m always happy when Bill gets normal interactions, and it seems like in this scene we’re meant to imagine that he is actually on his rounds (since Nathan is away).

—

Scene 23: Elizabeth and Helen edit...

Helen says “dour” in a way Elizabeth has never heard it said, and it sounds kind of clear that everything Helen says, Elizabeth just blanks out and can’t discuss reasonably.

“I’m just not used to writing this way.” You’re...not writing. You’re editing. There’s a difference. And Helen seems to be trying to get at the Author’s Intentions (“Would you describe this character as dour?”) to ensure that Elizabeth’s writing matches what she’s going for.

They’ve made it past ONE page at this point. They do share a chuckle over how slow their progress is, though, and I mean, as a writer that’s a whole entire mood, so it’s fine.

—

Scene 24: Henry’s cabin

For some reason Henry owns a cabin and Joseph, Bill, and Henry are checking it out. Bill is mostly snooping to find things wrong with it lol, which is very in character for him, considering Henry is (or at least was) the enemy.

Joseph decides to buy the place because it’s not too far from town and there’s room for the kids to play.

Boom he’s in.

Welcome Hope Valley, Joseph!

—

Scene 25: Robert’s Sorry + Helen’s Truth

Robert has atoned for his sins by cleaning all the stalls out or something. Helen and Elizabeth meet Robert on a walk. He’s atoned for his sins by cleaning the stables.

Helen and Elizabeth chat a bit, and Helen drops a bunch of Truth Bombs:

-Authors often feign indifference to the characters they create, or insist they are mere fabrications outside themselves.

-Elizabeth is honest with herself and with others, and honest in her writing.

-Most people are uncomfortable and afraid, and hide behind characters they’ve created for themselves.

She then says that she’s like that (kind of an awkward delivery line) and then instantly launches into saying she came to see Lucas and to see her, too, but if she’s being completely honest, she’s come because her husband has left her.

(Scene break for commercials)

Elizabeth runs after Helen and calls her “Mrs. Bouchard” but quickly corrects herself to call her “Helen” (NOW IT MAKES SENSE WHY HELEN DOESN’T WANT TO BE CALLED MRS. BOUCHARD!) and asks if she wants to talk about it.

“There’s really nothing to say. It’s not going to change anything.”

Lucas’s father is in London, supposedly, and as Lucas walks over to the two of them, Helen asks for Elizabeth to keep this just between them, as he doesn’t know yet.

I’m not sure where they’re going to go with this, or how they’re going to resolve it, but it’s possible this was just a misunderstanding (seems farfetched but hey, it’s Hallmark).

As an aside, the flowers they have out on display are all summer flowers. Does it matter? No. Am I pointing it out? Yes.

Lucas offers to take both women to dinner and Elizabeth says she isn’t able to go. I think she should have stated she had a prior engagement (so she didn’t appear to be rude), but Helen takes him up on the offer.

Walking away, Elizabeth runs into Laura, Emily, Anna, and Timmy, which was nice because all the mentions of Laura without actually seeing Laura made me worry she wasn’t on the show anymore, haha.

Laura isn’t with Jack because Rosemary wanted to watch him for the day. Elizabeth turns around and asks Lucas for his help with something.

—

Scene 26: The Surprise for Rosemary and Lee

Elizabeth comes over to collect Jack with a surprise: a nice dinner all premade, a bottle of wine, and some mood music. ;)

This is a wholesome and sweet scene. Elizabeth leaves with Jack and Lee struggles to his feet to dance with Rosemary.

—

Scene 27: The letter

Henry goes to the mercantile to see if there’s any mail and there IS...the letter he sent out last episode has been returned...opened.

Henry’s upset by this (he seems genuinely hurt) and asks Ned if he opened it. Ned says he didn’t, and Florence defends him by saying he would never do that. Henry leaves and Ned says he forgot to take care of something in the back and wishes Florence good night.

Very suspicious. I don’t think Ned opened the letter but I do think he read it. He looked a little upset himself...? Not sure what’s going on here. Could it involve a relative? Nora? A business proposition?

—

Scene 28: Florence and Molly

At the saloon, Florence and Molly talk about the letter, and Florence says she thinks the person who opened it was the person Henry sent it to.

Molly notices Bill laughing and having a good time with a woman she doesn’t know and stares at them. Florence points it out and says Molly must be bad-tempered because she’s hungry and suggests they order and eat. Molly gets up and marches right on over there and embarrasses Florence with her BS.

She mentions the chili in the cafe and then fakely says, “Oh nooo, I’m being rude,” and introduces herself to Helen.

Helen doesn’t shake her offered hand but does give her name. She’s extremely awkward and leaves in a hurry, with Florence on her heels.

Helen tells Bill he must have a “fan.”

Bill says he wasn’t aware of that.

The classic Bill Squint™.

—

Scene 29: Mike returns

Mike comes back to have his haircut finished. She says she’ll be more careful this time; he admits it’s his fault...and they both agree that they’re both to blame a little bit.

Clara and Faith drag their men in and insist on them getting haircuts/trims. I liked the scene with Fiona and Mike, but didn’t really care for the last bit as much. Mostly because everyone hates the idea of her cutting their hair and this is supposed to be funny, even to her? Like...I don’t know. It just falls flat for me.

—

Scene 30: Rosemary is a bad influence

Rosemary asks Elizabeth how the meeting went. They talk about the fact that Lucas and his mother are nothing alike and Rosemary says, “Well maybe he’s like his father.”

Elizabeth is like “Let’s hope not.”

And of course that gets the ball rolling. Before long, the truth is out: Helen’s husband left her.

Elizabeth really should have...shut her mouth lol. But at least Rosemary believes that’s a bad position for Elizabeth to be in.

Lee comes in with Jack wearing a little outfit...

And then the truth comes out that what’s in the crate is a LOT of coffee. 250lbs of it.

—

Scene 31: Bill and Molly Talk...sort-of.

Bill chases Molly out of the cafe and insists they talk about what happened the night before, and Molly says she made a fool of herself. Bill tries to figure things out by saying he’s been a bachelor for a long time (probably trying to ease into it by admitting he just hadn’t realized she was Interested because he’s not used to the whole thing, to take some pressure off you know?) and Molly stops him like, “Are you under the impression that I’m interested in you as a suitor?”

Bill is more or less like, well...yes (but I wasn’t alone in that thought).

Molly tells him she was curious about the woman with whom he was dining. “True, I have mentioned to Florence that it might be nice getting to know each other seeing as how we’ve lived in the same town for years...”

Bill: “Well, see? You are interested in me.”

Molly: “You flatter yourself.”

She then leaves.

Anyone who knows me will know why I don’t like this scene lol, but at least neither character is being made a fool of, here. Pretty sure Molly is both curious and jealous.

—

Scene 32: Henry’s tirade

I think they should have rerecorded this scene because it 100% sounds like Henry is drunk off his ass and not just angry. More punctuated words would have fixed this easily.

Anyway, Carson comes by the mercantile just in time to see Henry yelling at Ned and Florence about the letter (but specifically Ned). Henry sees Carson come in and leaves, but falls outside. His blood pressure is ridiculously high. Outside, the acting is fine and he sounds angry (but deflating).

“Sometimes what you do in between [birth and death] just isn’t enough.”

This makes me really curious about that leTTER... It almost has to be a personal matter: family, perhaps?

—

Scene 33: The Confession

Elizabeth runs into Nathan while she’s out with Sergeant and they talk about Bill’s land. Nathan’s very enthusiastic about the land and the idea of living there.

LOOK AT HIM.

This is probably the most animated we’ve seen him!

(I think this talk of land and building on it might be forcing her to think of Jack, by the way. They already have the profession in common and now the land/planning for the future thing, too? A future she never got to have with Jack? OOF.)

I think at this point she’s worried that he wants to do this FOR HER and the guilt is what prompts her to speak. She goes on to tell him that he means a lot to her, and so does Allie, but she thinks he’s looking for more than friendship.

He says he wasn’t trying to hide that, and she thanks him for his honesty. She goes to express that he wants more from her than she can give. He was shot that one time when she thought it had been him who died, and she can’t go through that for real, not again. She doesn’t want to lose him the way she lost Jack.

He says he wouldn’t let that happen and she gets (RIGHTFULLY!) upset because that isn’t something he can meaningfully promise, and it’s pretty insulting considering the way Jack died; he isn’t better than Jack, after all. Anything could happen.

So Nathan says that his solution, what makes his promise different, is that he would quit the Mounties.

And she says, “No!”

Then we get the lines:

Nathan: I know you feel the same way that I do.

Elizabeth: I can’t.

Nathan: Elizabeth, I’m in love with you!

Elizabeth leaves hurriedly on Sergeant and that’s the end of the episode.

—

I don’t want to end this without talking about the last scene a bit. I think some people might be a bit confused about it. I think she has feelings for Nathan and has been repressing them because it’s too scary a thing to consider. She wants to let the idea go but knew she couldn’t just cut things off without saying anything.

But how do you say something like that kindly? How do you do that without hurting feelings or looking stupid?

I feel like the talk about the land, as well as Nathan’s comment earlier in the episode about settling down, has forced Elizabeth to be honest with Nathan the way that she is honest in her writing, and she does this specifically because she doesn’t want Nathan to go making decisions based on feelings for, or a potential future with, her. It isn’t fair to Nathan or Allie.

For those of us who haven’t lost a spouse traumatically, I don’t think it’s easy to understand this specific brand of anxiety/fear, but this episode made it really clear that this is something she’s really struggling with. The heart wants what it wants, but it also feels fear sometimes (and in this case, rightfully so).

Nathan offering to quit was wonderful but I think it would frighten Elizabeth just as much to feel she’s the cause for someone giving up something they’re passionate about. I personally think she’s thinking too much of Jack when it comes to that. Sure, Nathan’s a Mountie, and sure, he likes his job and is good at it like Jack was, but I think for Nathan family and safety would always come first.

It didn’t come first for Bill. It didn’t come first for Jack. But it would for Nathan. I don’t think Elizabeth realizes this—that for Nathan this isn’t him giving up his passion for love (or to settle down). It’s settling down because he wants to make a life here for himself and doesn’t want to ever have to leave, a choice he won’t get if he stays with the Mounties

For Jack, the Mounties were a Calling, a lifelong passion.

For Nathan, they were a career he enjoyed.

I’m interested to see when this will be revealed in the story and how that will make Elizabeth feel. No matter what, it’s scary to be the person ‘forcing’ someone else to give up something big, in this case Nathan’s livelihood (in exchange for her peace of mind). I have some personal experience with this. In fact, when I was dating my (now-)husband for the first time, he wanted to move to be with me. We were young. He had a college picked out. He had a career path. I had a job doing physical labor and I was living at home. If he needed help, my family would be too poor to assist and we had no extra space for him to stay. I refused. We actually broke up over it. There’s just so much pressure on the person who isn’t giving something up: fear of feeling indebted to someone, fear of the relationship HAVING to work out (or it was a waste of everyone’s time and money)...

Anyway, this storyline could mean a lot to me if it’s done right, so...I hope it is. :)

—

Overall this was another enjoyable episode. I was shocked at the intensity of the ending, and pleasantly surprised by most of the rest of it. Fiona’s actually growing on me as a character (she’s made of sterner stuff than some of them). I’m definitely looking forward to next week and I hope you are too!

My only real criticism so far, other than the ones outlined above, is the sheer number of scenes. I think it might be...a bit much. Almost...scattered? But we’ll see how they do in future episodes.

Feel free to message me with any thoughts/opinions/et cetera. ♥

#when calls the heart #analysis and meta discussion #character studies and information #long post

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noxtms · 3 years

Photo

IN CHARACTER DATE : december 25th, 2020. TRIGGER WARNINGS : n / a.

( at first, nothing. )

a woman screams. she is crouched before the veil, supporting the non existent weight of a skeleton - no, no, a man, so naked and emaciated that he passes too well - both arms wrapped around him, pulling him, trying to force him to his feet even while she struggles to get her own beneath her. cloaked figures stagger forwards across ancient stone, just as disoriented, taking him from her so that she can rise, shakily, to her feet.

( SUDDENLY : EVERYTHING. )

she lunges. looks as if she's about to fall. doesn't. she is desperately trying to reach for the items that lie before the archway, her fingers extending, the edge of a silvery wisp of fabric just barely within her grasp when a jagged jet of red light collides with her arm. another explodes against the ground. another.

figures - uncloaked, eyes wide, ferocious, shoulders squared, wands drawn - flood the room and take it all in. the destruction. the sight of the others who are only now beginning to rise. bellatrix scrambles backwards, clutching her arm to her, unheard of fear tinging her expression. a tall man with a long, dirtied beard raises his wand again -

they disapparate. all of them. everyone dressed in black disappears, only one extending a hand to grab onto her shoulder and take her with him, the last scream of protest echoing in the chamber. the man is gone too. has been brought. he looked dead.

( lungs fill - oh god, oh god, they might explode - everything feels red, raw, fire, burning - )

beyond the archway stands another man, his shoulders hunched, damp & ragged long hair covering one side of his face. he looks like someone. someone known, once. someone remembered. someone who never appeared on the other side like he was supposed to. they are so alike that it is jarring, sets teeth on edge, forces you to look desperately for just one difference, just the one to set them apart - if he smiled, it would light his face so differently. not charming. shy. it isn't him, but if it isn't, then who is it?

he jolts when the others realize he's there, a deer caught in headlights. his chest rises and falls, rises as if he is gulping air for the first time in years, like a drowning man who has just stumbled from the grasp of murky waters, every exhale hurried so he can inhale again, sharply.

not him.

not sirius.

someone moves. does not brandish a wand, just makes as if they are going to move toward him, and then he is gone with a crack. just like the others.

( it is so hard to focus. it is so hard to see. everything hurts - everything blurs - everything twists inside - )

a shock of red hair. she's lying so still, again, slumped near to the items abandoned. another redhead on unsteady feet clambers the dais - does not care about these meaningless things the wild woman tried so hard to reach - and pulls her into his lap. "ginny, ginny, ginny-" his whole body shakes. she’s so pale.

another's hand presses to her neck, and something blossoms in their expression, brightens a face that had turned a horrible shade of grey. "she has a pulse. she’s alive.”

is she? is she, really? she doesn't look it. no one thinks it. murmurs of how it can't be, it can't be, it isn't possible.

she doesn’t look it. maybe it isn’t.

( a whimper slips past broken lips. )

"who..."

( who? )

noticed with a gasp. the pounding of footsteps. someone falls to their knees and cold hands press against his skin and he flinches away from the touch because it is still too painful - it is a relief, but it is too much, his skin feels too fresh, and they don't know, or realize, because they are mirroring the action done already, pointlessly searching for a pulse that flutters too fast beneath their fingertips.

they babble with senseless confusion and others loom above him and he cannot make their features out, cannot see through blurred vision, but they are... warm- familiar- they know him. he knows them.

"harry-"

a legacy. a life done before. a name forms on the tip of his tongue, the salve to undoing :

harry potter.

ROUNDUP OF FATALITIES & INJURIES ( DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY ):

dennis creevey took a stunner to the back & was knocked unconscious. aside from some minor cuts and bruises, he's in perfect health.

aura hargate's knees will have to be put the right way around again, and this in combination with some unnamed curses cast upon her by thorfinn rowle spells a few days in st mungo's for her.

nellie diggory is badly shaken by her experience under the cruciatus, and some additional injury sustained in the chaos of the battle means she will have to spend at least 24 hours under observation on a ward in st mungo's.

alicia spinnet managed to break her ankle in the second tumble that she took, and has some cuts from the glass case that shattered in the elder wands room. her other injuries are fairly minor, sustained in battle, but she will have to take heavy doses of skele-gro for a few days.

luna lovegood is battered and bruised, though the worst injury she seems to have received is the long gash along her arm that rendered it unusable for the latter half of the battle. she won't have to go to st mungo's, so long as she promises to apply a healthy amount of essence of dittany.

hermione granger's cheek was sliced cleanly by an unknown spell, and she has a number of other injuries ranging in severity, including ones sustained from the explosion of glass in the wands chamber, including what may be a shard in the eye - the healers will take a closer look at st mungo's.

ron weasley is shaken up badly by his time under the cruciatus, and sustained a number of other injuries in the battle. some of his ribs were fractured in one of the dives he made to avoid numerous confringo's, and should rest up for a while.

cassia trelawney's right side is badly burned from her dress going up in flames. though they were able to be put out, the damage was quite severe - she'll need to spend an extended time in st mungo's as they work to repair it.

dean thomas will spend at least twenty four hours in an induced coma as mediwizards work to undue the curse placed upon his skull, and reduce it to its normal size. when he awakes, he'll have to spend a few days for observation. the rest of his injuries are mostly superficial.

ginny weasley died, so there's that, but sustained a gash to her head after being caught with a ribboning curse and has a large injury shoulder to torso that will require immediate medical attention. she's fairly battered and bruised, in general, but st mungo's will focus on the former.

percy weasley was tortured for a number of days. he will have to spend as much time as they can keep him in st mungo's to be treated for the injuries he received at the hands of the carrows in addition to the starvation and dehydration from what was withheld from him. the healers think he'll make a full recovery - physically.

ROUNDUP OF FATALITIES & INJURIES ( THE DEATH EATERS ):

mikaela karkaroff is generally fine, though she sustained some minor cuts and bruises in the battle.

niko karkaroff is also relatively okay, though his minor cuts and bruises pale to those his feet suffered following the loss of his shoes. that's what you get for being a death eater, i guess.

hazel graves suffered serious lacerations at the hands of nellie diggory, though a few days in a st mungo's ward having essence of dittany applied regularly to them should heal her right up.

alecto carrow has a concussion from being thrown across the room. she did not take part in the initial battle and would have escaped unscathed if not for this - her brothers nose is broken by the stunner that he took to the face.

antonin karkaroff fared well, but fractured a number of his ribs when he took a serious tumble. he needn't visit st mungo's provided he has a private healer he can trust to take care of him in this time.

helen buchanan was knocked unconscious in a fall and also will have suffered a concussion from it, however, she was unfortunately caught in a blast when one of the stone benches around her exploded. she will need to be treated professionally for these injuries.

WORTH NOTING:

apparition in and out of the department is impossible unless one is travelling with a member of said department, or has been given strict overriding permissions. the death eaters being able to apparate will likely be cause for suspicion, since the order of the phoenix were only able to apparate directly into the department of mysteries due to permission granted by the minister of magic himself.

cho chang informed the order of what dumbledore’s army was planning as quickly as she could - it wasn’t quick enough to stop what happened, but she’s owed a great thanks for her concern.

jo diggory & theodore nott, notably unpresent for the past five plot points, are alright. jo was left with cho at number twelve, grimmauld place, needing rest and recuperation to heal from the sectumsempra that hazel graves hit them with. theo was found soon after the battle and revived, and aside from being disoriented - and the use of an unforgivable curse upon him likely to be revisited later - was unharmed.

OUT OF CHARACTER:

this marks the official end of NOXTMS : PLOT ONE. it’s been a great few months, but trust me - we’re in for some FUN over the next few months and phase ! individuals who had characters that took part in this event are welcome expand on their own re: the injuries sustained that aren’t specified, and we’ll discuss in the discord what our next steps as the dumbledore’s army group is.

while nox remains at the masquerade, event wise, moving slowly forward through the night to eventually incorporate this - you’re very welcome to start private and public threads dealing with the aftermath if you’d like. all the more for fun !

applications for HARRY POTTER & REGULUS BLACK will not be accepted for at minimum seven days, as i don’t intend on letting it be a first come, first serve situation. lord voldemort is understandably joining the ranks as an npc.

THANK YOU SO MUCH ! i’m going to want to make a larger ... thank you speech, later. but thank you all so much for your engagement, and i hope you’ve enjoyed !

#nox.event009 #nox.important #hp rp #harry potter rp #appless rp #fandom rp #canon rp #oc rp #mumu rp #hp roleplay

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tired-college-student-writing · 4 years

Text

The Painter’s Daughter Ch 4

Summary: Marinette is the daughter of two bakers

Marinette is a happy sometimes naive girl

Marinette is loved to create and make more than they liked to destroy

or was she?

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 (HERE)

Chapter 5

_________________________________________

“You’re both coming with me,” Helen spoke the second Adrian reappeared from the bathroom, wrapped in Marinette’s oversized pink polka-dotted bathrobe. The blond looked surprised and suspicious.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Helen continued, “I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t in what little good conscience I have left let anyone become a creep if I can help it, let alone my daughter and her superhero partner.”

“Creep?” Adrian raised his brow at this, edging away slightly.

Helen just rolled his eyes and allowed his glamor to fall, leaving a teenage boy who could have been Marinette’s twin standing where the once lanky man had. He cracked a smile as the boy jumped.

“It’s short for Creepypasta,” He explained, “You’ve probably found our stories before, stories of Jeff the Killer, of Laughing Jack, of Smile Dog, of Slenderman, and thought we were just that, stories. The reality of the situation is Kwamis and Miraculous aren’t the only magic in the world, there’s a much darker side to the unexplainable out there. I and, by extension, Marinette are part of this world. ”

Adrian’s eyes were the size of dinner plates, but even so, a new emotion was flickering in his eye. Most of the time creeps see fear or anger in the eyes of those that discover them, but Adrian has been in such deep broken fear and hurt anger for too long. In his eyes, the father and daughter saw curiosity slowly trickle in.

Marinette smiled softly, “It’s okay Kitty, you’re still safe. Dad’s not going to hurt you.”

Helen snorted, “Even the stupidest creeps have a code. You’re the last person we’d want dead even if you didn’t have a tiny little god of destruction in your pocket. Especially since Marinette likes you so much.”

“Damn straight,” Plagg huffed, tail lashing as if daring the creature to do anything.

“My dad is what’s known as a Proxy,” Marinette explained, “A worker of sorts for a more powerful entity. In his case, he’s a proxy of the Operator, or as you most likely know him, Slenderman. I was conceived after he was made so I fall under the creeps domain as well even though I’m not a creep and will never be a creep unless I commit a murder worthy of my own creepypasta.”

“So all creepypastas are real, and you’re the daughter of,” Adrian’s eyes darted across Helen’s form landing on his pin and the mask attached to his belt, “The Bloody Painter?”

“Ha, you ARE a fan,” Helen snorted.

“And he wants us to come with him because why?”

Plagg winced, floating up to headbutt his user in the cheek, “Kid… he’s worried you’ll become like him. Your sanity is in such a fragile state… it’s worrisome even if you weren’t fighting Hawkmoth. You need to get away from your dad, from Paris and you certainly need to get away from that abusive rapist bitch that broke you before one of us, at best gets akumatized, or worst does something drastic that we can’t take back.”

Adrian cupped the small cat by his face, a single tear running down his cheek as he looked to see the deep understanding of the pair in front of him.

“Okay,” He said in a soft voice that was barely a breath, “But if we really leave then Paris will be undefended, and won’t people put it together when we leave at the same time as the heroes stop showing up? Can we really leave Paris unde-”

“I have a plan,” Marinette cut in, “but it’s going to take a bit to get into place.”

Helen rolled his shoulders, shifting back into his adult form, “Adrian eat. Let's get some bags packed and put this plan into action.”

_________________________________________

The morning saw Ladybug and Chat Noir swinging through the city with smiles, laughing and greeting the citizens with cheer. When asked why they were out so early they let pain and uncertainty flicker across their faces for a split second, before the smiles were back and they gave some lame excuses about needing a break from their everyday life.

Paris felt a twinge that something wasn’t right that the city couldn’t shake.

When school started Ms. Bustier’s class was surprised and worried to see their principal in their classroom. Adrian was still missing as far as they were aware, they really hoped nothing happened to him.

“Students,” Damocles started once the bell had rung, “Before school today, The Dupain-Chengs came in and informed me that Marinette was being pulled for the rest of the year and moved to homeschooling.”

“What!” Alya yelled, the room breaking into a frenzy.

“SILENCE!” Mr. Damocles barked and patiently waited until the room froze, “Now before any rumors start, they wished for you all to know that Marinette’s birth father had been in a terrible accident and she was on the first plane they could find last night to the United States to be with him as they were not sure if he’d survive very long. She will remain in the US until he is better or until his affairs are put in order. I hope you all do your best to understand and be supportive of her if she reaches out.”

The teacher and principal exit the room soon after with remarks about needing to get the proper paperwork in order for the transfer leaving a shocked classroom.

“Mr. Dupain isn’t her dad?” Alya whispered in shock only for Nino to shrug.

“Well, yeah, Kim and I were invited to the wedding and Marinette told us when she was changing her name. Her dad is some artist from the states, Sabine didn’t give out too many details but it wasn’t hard to put together Mari was a one night stand baby. Her dad was pretty cool though. I hope he’s okay.”

Kim nodded when the class turned to look at him, “ Yeah we met him when he came for her tenth birthday, gave her some really awesome fabric she ended up making into a dress she wore to the school banquet. Apparently, his job is pretty sporadic so he’s not able to visit regularly, but you can tell he really loves Marinette and treated all of us pretty well.”

Chloe snorted, “Speak for yourselves, He gave me the creeps with his stare when I tried to say something to Marinette, made some weird comment about how I’d make a lovely medium for art one day.”

Nathanial gave her a quizzical look, “You mean muse?”

“No? I’m pretty sure I’d remember the ridiculous statement the man-made to me. He definitely said medium.”

“But,” Nathanial muttered, “That makes no sense. A medium is the materials used for an art piece, not the subject of the piece. How could he make you his medium?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

Nino’s phone buzzed and he paled looking down, “Uh dudes, Adrian just posted on his insta, like his model insta.”

The pictures on the post were vaguely graphic, nail marks and bruises littering pale skin in sickly colors. Nothing below the belt but they could see how the bruises fell they extended further then he was showing.

I’m sorry I ran, but I couldn’t handle the sexual abuse anymore. A fellow model, my father’s muse no less, decided I was hers and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She’s lied and lied so much even my friends from school are convinced we’re a couple but I just want to be able to live my life without the fear of her touching me and spinning tales of how no one will believe me if I spoke out, how she’ll tell the world I raped her if I did. I still feel so dirty after she slipped something into my drink. It didn’t even knock me out, simply made it so I couldn’t move. I’m done. I’m sorry but I’m done.

None of the class could stop the bile from rising in their throats as their eyes flash to Lila who was slowly turning pruce.

_________________________________________

The weekend arrived, with only two Akuma attacks since Marinette left for America, Ladybug and Chat Noir taking care of it swiftly and near silently, their normal banter sporadic at best the first time, almost melancholy the second.

Paris had noticed and was nearing panic. What was wrong with their heroes?

Two siblings found out, as the clock clicked closer to Saturday.

The Couffaine siblings were hanging out on their beds, idly playing music together, already in their PJs. Their mother was out for the night, invited to drinks with Jagged to reconnect after all these years. So when they heard thumps on the deck above they froze.

The fear only reduced slightly as the familiar faces of the city’s heroes appeared from the top of the stairs, though the panic shifted to a different source. Luka shoots worried glances at his sister. How would she react to him being a hero?

“Ladybug, Chat Noir,” He greeted, “What’s wrong? An Akuma?”

“Not right now,” Ladybug responded, face serious but ever so kind, “But we have a large favor to ask both of you.”

“You know I’m always willing to help,” He answered without hesitation and saw his usually timid sister nod in agreement.

“I’ll do everything I can.”

Chat Noir gave a ghost of his usually cheeky grin, “Can you keep a secret?”

Before either sibling got to ask what he meant the pair was engulfed in bright light. When it faded Marinette and Adrian stood in front of the pair.

“Luka Couffaine,” Marinette said, holding out the box with a broken smile, “This is the miraculous of the Snake.”

“Juleka Couffaine,” Adrian continued, holding out an identical box, “This is the miraculous of the Mouse.”

“We’re entrusting you to use these miraculous to keep Paris safe in our steed,” They replied in unison to the frozen siblings, “Do you accept?”

“What?” Juleka squeaked, “You two…”

Luka took the box with a stony look, “What do you mean in your steed?”

Adrian’s face fell, “Chat Noir and Ladybug are leaving Paris for a while. I’m sure you know why I need to leave, but Mari offered me an escape and needs a break as well.”

Marinette’s steely look silenced any protests, “We’ve been failed too many times. It’s breaking us, if we don’t leave soon we're going to end up akumatized ourselves or worse. We’re entrusting you two with the truth, and with being the main protectors of Paris while we’re gone.”

“We’re handing over an official video tomorrow morning explaining our leave of Absence to Nadja to play during the news cycles, probably all of them,” Adrian said with a hollow laugh, “

“But what about the other miraculous?” Luka asked, “We’re not going to be Ladybug and Chat Noir, and even you need help sometimes. What do we do if we need help?”

“The Fox is with a male user named Badulf and the monkey with King Monkey. My mama currently has the miraculous box, so if you need to get the Bee to Hachimitsu or the dragon to Kaida she’ll have them,” Marinette continued, “If you need another miraculous I trust you to make the choice of who to give it to with a view exceptions. We don’t need another Aspik incident.”

“In my defense,” Adrian counter, “I have a hard time saying no to anyone, let alone my best friend who was trusting me with a very important task.”

“Okay,” Juleka let out a shaky sigh, “You need to start from the beginning.”

And so they did. They told the pair about getting their miraculous, about the allies they had taken throughout the years, the ones they didn’t trust anymore, the ones that had hurt them too many times. They told them about how life outside the mask had grown harder and harder and trying not to be akumatized was growing near impossible. They listed the spells and charms they had created to allow the pair to contain the akumas since Ladybug would be gone.

Luka and Juleka held their hands, anger, fury, and sympathy rolling off of them. By the end, Marinette worried they would deal with another akumaztion but Juleka elbowed him with a scowl and he took several deep breaths to calm down.

“Okay,” He said finally, “We’ll take care of the city. You two get better okay,”

“Don’t worry,” Marinette said with a soft smile, “You’re going to stay with my dad. He’s going to make sure we don’t snap under all of the pressure.”

“Take this,” She handed over a notecard with a pair of emails on it, “If something like Syren or Stormy Weather shows up again so I can use Miraculous Ladybug. We believe in you.”

As quickly as they had arrived the heroes had left, leaving the siblings to get to know their kwamis and prepare for the news that would break in only a few short hours on how the safety of the city was now on their shoulders.

“Everything done?” Helen asked once the heroes landed in Bois de Boulogne. Once they nodded he tossed them their backpacks and turned to the tree he already carved the Operator symbol into, opening the portal to the Slender Forest.

“Let’s make this quick,” Helen groaned, “Slender isn’t going to be happy I waited this long to get in touch with him.”

“Do you think now is a good time to give Slender the new tie I made him?”

_________________________________________

Taglist: @crazylittlemunchkin @sassakitty @marinettepotterandplagg

#miraculous ladybug #creepypasta #marinette dupain cheng #helen otis #Adrian agreste #tw rape #mental instability #lila rossi #lila rossi is the worst #gabriel agreste a+ parenting #tw murder #miraculous class #Alternate Miraculous Users #juleka couffaine #luka couffaine

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bushyhair · 4 years

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❝ then he said, leaning forward: ‘you’re strange animals, you women intellectuals. tell me: what’s it like to be a woman?’ i took my rifle from behind my chair and shot him dead. ‘it’s like that,’ i said. ❞ merlin’s beard, what is ( HERMIONE GRANGER ) doing out at this hour? for a ( MUGGLEBORN ) who is ( 47 ) years old, ( SHE ) really ought to know better. you know, i hear that they’re aligned with ( THE ORDER ), but that could be just a rumor. i do know that they’re a ( CIS WOMAN ) and a ( GRYFFINDOR ) alum who works as a ( POLITICAL ACTIVIST ) though. they’re very ( DAUNTLESS ) and ( ANALYTICAL ) but also quite ( VINDICTIVE ) and ( ACERBIC ), which could be why they remind of ( DESPERATELY SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS THE ONLY WAY YOU KNOW HOW – IN A DARK, MUSTY LIBRARY FILLED WITH ANCIENT TOMES WRITTEN IN LANGUAGES LONG DEAD TO MANKIND – BUT NOT TO YOU; A CEASELESS TUG-OF-WAR BETWEEN YOUR BRAIN AND YOUR HEART, BETWEEN RATIONALE AND COMPASSION; THE CELESTIAL HEAVENS THAT YOU CARRY ON YOUR SHOULDERS NOW THAT ATLAS IS NO LONGER AROUND TO BEAR THE BURDEN FOR YOU ). some people say they’re the spitting image of ( GUGU MBATHA RAW ), but i’ve never heard of them. word on the street is that they’re ( THE ERUDITE ) and their prophecy is ( PROPHECY 54 ), but only time will tell if that’s true or not. [ SARAH, 23, SHE/HER, PST ]

parallels: spencer hastings (pretty little liars), elphaba thropp (wicked), annabeth chase (percy jackson), amy santiago (brooklyn 99), sydney sage (bloodlines), beatrice (much ado about nothing), cristina yang (grey’s anatomy), monse finnie (on my block), jal fazer (skins), peggy carter (marvel cinematic universe)

hermione was something of a miracle baby (and a complete surprise). the couple found each other later in life than most, and they’d long since given up trying to conceive as her father was in his fifties and her mother was pushing forty. nevertheless, even though she was unexpected, her parents showered her with love and affection – they had always wanted a baby girl to call their own. hermione would be their one and only.

[ HOLOCAUST TW ] her parents named her hermione after the virtuous queen of sicily in shakespeare’s the winter’s tale and the only daughter of king menelaus and queen helen in greek mythology. her middle name is jean, which is a female variant of the name john, meaning “god is gracious”. i think hermione is, albeit probably unintentionally by jkr, coded as jewish (her appearance, how she faces oppression for her blood by the death eaters/voldemort which are analogies for the nazis/hitler/the holocaust, how she isn’t shown to have a particular attachment to christmas and rarely goes home for the holidays, etc.). thus, i’ve headcanoned that she comes from an interfaith family; her mom was christian and her dad was jewish, and they raised her with both religions with the intention of letting her pick when she grew older. while she is not spiritual and ultimately considers herself to be an atheist, she’s still very proud of her interfaith heritage. anyways, her parents didn’t actually name her jean because of its religious meaning; they named her after jean valjean from les misérables. much like her parents, hermione is also a fan of victor hugo’s work, and that was why she named one of her children hugo.

her father never spoke about how he was a victim of the holocaust, how he almost didn’t survive, how he lost his entire family to the war. sometimes hermione saw the number tattoo on his arm, and her own battle scars felt like they were on fire. her father was a survivor of the second world war, and she is a survivor of the second wizarding war. now more than ever, she understands the trauma, grief, and survivor’s guilt that he tried so desperately to shield her from. it is the same pain that she now carries. [ END TW ]

[ RACISM, BULLYING, AND ANTISEMITISM TW ] there were almost no black children in the posh neighborhood she was raised in, and hermione always felt out of place among her white classmates at the expensive primary school she attended. growing up, despite being upper middle class and an incredibly well-behaved child, she of course still experienced her fair share of racism due to her black and jewish heritage – dirty looks on the street by complete strangers, mean schoolchildren declaring her ugly for not meeting westernized beauty standards (especially when it came to her hair), shopkeepers keeping a watchful eye on her when she entered their stores, adults assuming she couldn’t possibly be as intelligent as her white peers. not only was it demoralizing to little hermione, it was enraging. she developed an overwhelming need to prove herself and her capabilities – she always had to work so much harder than white children to be properly recognized, but every year, she still outperformed everyone else. of course, young hermione was seen as rather swotty, condescending, and insufferable by her classmates, so she was incredibly unpopular. her only friends were her parents, and the one place where she actually felt like she belonged was the library. books were an escape, a refuge. they offered her some comfort in an otherwise comfortless world. little did she know that this world was not truly her world – that there was something else waiting for her.

hermione developed a strict adherence to following the rules and an unwavering respect for authority partly because of the prejudice she faced from an early age. as a young black girl, she knew that if she did not present herself to be well behaved, responsible, and mature – if she ever acted out in any way – there could be a high price to pay. black children were punished (or hurt – or even killed) for very, very little. while she eventually outgrew this behavior as she found her place in the wizarding world, it took her a little time to blossom into the revolutionist that she is today.

when she first came to the wizarding world, she noticed a stark contrast in how she was treated by most people upon first glance. after all, it wasn’t as though blood purists could tell that she was muggleborn simply by looking at her (even though she didn’t realize that was what it was initially). and because of the difference that she noticed, she had hope that maybe – just maybe – this was somehow a world free of prejudice and racism, a world in which she could finally find belonging in. but of course, the wizarding world was not quite as she first thought. there was still prejudice; it was merely towards a different group of people. mudblood. when draco malfoy first spat out that venomous word in reference to her, she didn’t immediately know just what it meant, but she understood well enough. she’d been called slurs before. hermione was once again rattled with that familiar fury. she was top of her year, with an extraordinary amount of power, but still she was viewed by many as inferior. she vowed to prove her worth and become an instrument of change. she would fight for herself, her friends, her parents, the enslaved house elves, and the other muggleborns. if this world tried to tell her she did not belong there either, she would show them all that she did. she would be the best and the brightest – better than draco, pansy, and anyone else who tried to diminish her. and that was just what she did. it wasn’t enough for her though. [ END TW ]

because while hermione might have been a know-it-all who seemed rather confident in her abilities, the truth was that she was deeply insecure and terrified of failure. identified as highly gifted from a young age, this unintentionally placed an insurmountable pressure on her to overachieve in order to measure up to those high standards – to confirm to everyone, including and especially herself, that she really was as intelligent as they all thought she was. and to make matters worse, whether she was in the muggle world or the wizarding world, she always had something to prove. (in fact, she was only able to attend her expensive private school because of the scholarship that was granted to her due to her high marks and test scores. because while she was upper middle class, her family still wasn’t wealthy enough to send her there otherwise.) she somewhat grew out of her insecurities as the years went by – she’s proud of who she is and knows that she’s capable – but some of her insecurities still linger to this day. that compulsive need to be perfect will never truly go away. it’s an innate part of her now.

[ PHYSICAL ASSAULT TW ] even though she is extremely socially conscious and compassionate, she is very much a paradox and can often be abrasive, insensitive, and overly blunt. she’s also far more ruthless than she appears to be at first glance – this is the girl who destroyed marietta edgecombe’s face when she dared to betray the d.a., erased her parents’ memories, set a professor on fire, imprisoned rita skeeter in a jar and blackmailed her, and left umbridge to the centaurs to rot. while she does have a rigid sense of morals, she’s vindictive and will ultimately do what is necessary to achieve the right outcome. she honestly does not regret any of these actions – the ends justified the means in hermione’s opinion. (aka draco malfoy should consider himself lucky she only slapped his sorry arse so hard that he bruised) [ END TW ]

[ DEMENTIA/ALZHEIMER’S AND PARENTAL DEATH TW ] once the dust settled after the battle of hogwarts, after the seemingly endless funerals and memorials, she left everyone behind for a few months to search for her parents in australia and bring them back home. tracking them down took several weeks in and of itself, but once she finally found them, she quickly realized that she had her work cut out for herself. memory magic is an incredibly intricate process because it involves reconstructing the brain, and without proper training, it can easily go awry. she spent many days working on properly restoring their memories, and even after she was sure that she had done it perfectly, something was still wrong. the doctors ended up diagnosing her father with early stage alzheimer’s. although her friends reassured her that it wasn’t her fault, she still blamed herself for this – her father was well past middle aged, but perhaps his mind would not have deteriorated so much if she hadn’t cast those memory charms. she began distancing herself from her parents early on in her school career, opting to spend her holidays with ron and harry instead of trying to fit into a magicless world she no longer belonged in, and she became wracked with guilt and regret for pushing her parents away even if it was partially for their safety and peace of mind. she thought she would have more time than this, years to make up for it all. there wasn’t. a few years down the line, her father finally succumbed to his dementia and passed away, her mother following very soon after. although she died of natural causes, it was almost as though she couldn’t bear being apart from the love of her life, to go on living in a world without him. [ END TW ]

[ PTSD, DEATH, PARENTAL DEATH, GRIEF, PHYSICAL ASSAULT, AND TORTURE TW ] at some point, she returned to hogwarts to complete her seventh year, determined to graduate with all o’s on her n.e.w.t.s, and of course she succeeded because she’s hermione and she buried herself in her schoolwork, very much as a distraction from her grief, her trauma, the diminishing health of her father, and her newfound fame. being a war hero thrust hermione into the spotlight, and at first, she didn’t know how to handle it in the slightest. through time, she came to use her celebrity status to become a voice for the oppressed – house elves, werewolves, other muggleborns – because again, she’s hermione and she wouldn’t be hermione without her vehemence for social justice.

upon graduation, she landed herself a job in the department for the control and regulation of magical creatures. she stayed there for a while before transferring to the department of magical law enforcement. she never considered herself going into magical law when she was younger, but she soon realized that it was the only way she would be able to bring lasting change to a long broken system. for several years, hermione immersed herself in her work as much as she could. it was absolutely a coping mechanism, especially after her parents passed. as always, she was constantly fretting over her loved ones, asking them multiple times a week if they were alright and reassuring them that she was always here if they need a shoulder to lean on, but she hadn’t quite dealt with the fact that she wasn’t alright, not by a long shot. in fact, she was barely holding it together. rather than living, she was merely surviving, and it wasn’t for herself. her work and her friends were the only real reasons she managed to drag herself out of bed every morning. she hadn’t properly grieved the people she lost, and she suffered from petrifying night terrors, and the worst ones were of bellatrix torturing her in malfoy manor. she tried everything to remove or cover her scars from the incident, but as they were magically carved into her by curses of bellatrix’s own creation, she wasn’t able to. eventually, she gave up, deciding she would wear them as signs of her courage and resilience. but there were still those nights where she woke up from a chilling nightmare, wailing and thrashing. she cast muffling charms on her room every night as a precaution. she couldn’t even bear to visit her parents’ graves, too overcome by guilt, knowing in her heart that their deaths were her fault. she didn’t know how to carry that pain.

eventually, she settled down with ron and had two children with him, and slowly, with her two best friends by her side, she started to heal from her war wounds. there was no orderly, linear process to follow, like the five stages of grief. it was messy, and it was hard, but she pushed through it. she sought therapy at the urging of her friends, learning how to better handle her emotions, especially the ones involving grief. it took time, but she learned to live to again. she was able to move on and finally forgive herself. she healed – only for that arduous work to be undone when the third wizarding war started and the world fell into shambles again.

hermione was angry. she was so angry at the world for putting them all through this again. so many people died to prevent another war from happening, and despite her best efforts to make their sacrifices count -- to make it all mean something -- it seemed like it was all for naught in the end. after all, here they were again -- the same fight. always the same fight, with most of the same people.

and then harry died. then harry, her best friend, died for the second time, and hermione’s world shattered into pieces. it was only her love for her family and her vehemence for justice that gave her the strength to move on--but only barely so. she knew that she would never completely heal from it all. the truth was that when harry died, a part of her died along with him. he was not only her first friend but her true best friend (because ron had always been something else, something much more complicated). she considered him to be a brother, and she always did everything she could to help and protect him. she loved him so much, and she would’ve died for him without a second thought. they all would have. his death -- along with her parents’ deaths -- will always be her biggest failures, and she will forever blame herself for them. what good is it – being so smart – if she couldn’t save the ones that she loved the most? once her boggart was failing her exams, but now it is harry and her parents telling her the truth that she already knows – that their deaths were her failure and her fault. of course, this boggart is as irrational as the one she had in her childhood. harry and her parents would never say such a thing. logically, hermione knows this, but she still blames herself all the same – even if they would never, even if it’s not truly her fault.

then, miraculously, harry evaded death once more, coming back to life like the messiah himself -- but at the price of the life of one of her dearest friends. she’s even more furious now, but that anger doesn’t have anywhere to go. ultimately, she knows that even though it was the foolhardy, reckless knights who performed the ritual, the blame rests on the order’s shoulders. they failed their children. they drove them to this. in a way, she truly understands why the knights did what they did because she missed harry with all her heart and would have given (almost) anything to see him one more time, but still, it horrifies her. she wanted him back -- she is so grateful to have him back -- but not like this. not at the price of neville longbottom’s life. this is beyond anything she could have ever conceived. this is an aberration. it should have been impossible. and yet, here her best friend is, alive and (almost) well. she never expected that she would ever have him back, but now when he looks at her without any recognition in his face, she cannot help but be reminded of her father’s death all over again.

in the end, she will keep going on, and she will fight until her last dying breath to protect her loved ones and the world, but she’s so tired. how many times will they all have to fight the same war? how many more people will have to die for them to finally end this – for good this time? will this ever truly be over, or is humanity doomed to make the same mistakes and fight the same wars forever? for the girl who’s supposed to have all of the answers, even she doesn’t know.

it should be noted that hermione has never believed in prophecies or even divination at all, and even now that harry is alive, she still doesn’t. ultimately, she would argue that the reason why harry came back to life isn’t because it was destined in any way but because the knights truly believed in the prophecy and thus made it happen, much like how voldemort marked harry as his equal out of his doing after he heard trelawney’s first prophecy. in a way, it was almost a self-fulfulling prophecy. in the end, hermione doesn’t believe in predestined fate, and she never will. instead, she intends to shape her own future.

edit: also! i forgot to mention that, before the ministry was taken over, hermione was head of the department of magical law enforcement, but when she was thrust out of her position, she made the decision to dedicate herself to the order fully. hermione has never been minister of magic in this verse. although the ministry was never perfect by any means, she was a strong supporter of minister shacklebolt and worked with him personally for many years. ultimately, she was fairly content where she was at before all of this, but who knows what could happen if and when the war ends. [ END TW ]

#rev intros #no graphic this time #i really just want to get this out #it's super rushed oops

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blog-sliverofjade · 3 years

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Of Doms & Subs 4: Bribery Will Get You Everywhere

Pairing: Angus Hopper x OFC

Summary: What's a submissive female to do when she fights her nature and goes on the run as a Lone wolf to avoid being assimilated into a pack?

Word count: 2315

Of Doms & Subs Master List

Sleeping in was something I used to enjoy. Nestled in warm sheets while the world outside continued to turn, safe in a cozy cocoon. After the Change, it was no longer so peaceful. Although the house was decently soundproofed for humans, I could hear water running as someone showered. The buzz of an electric razor. Clinking of dishes in the kitchen. After ten minutes of hiding with a pillow over my head, I gave up and burrowed out of the nest of blankets. I was just pulling my shirt on when Mickayla knocked. A thrill of pride ran through me for recognizing her scent. I was getting better at this!

“Mornin’,” I called out and she came in at the tone of invitation in my greeting.

“How was your little adventure last night?” she grinned.

“Mortifying,” I grumped while tugging a brush through my hair.

“So if I tell you that there’s a betting pool on when you’d make a break for it we can see if werewolves die of embarrassment?” Her grin deepened to flash a lot of pretty, white teeth.

“How about you give me a cut and I don’t throw my dirty, wet socks in your face?” I started to reach for the duffel full of dirty clothes. She laughed and handed me a couple of bills, which I stuffed into a pocket without counting. “Next time let me know, I’m not above taking a fall.”

“There’s going to be a next time?” A perfectly plucked eyebrow rose.

“Eugene and Seattle aren’t all that far.” I turned away to wrestle my hair into a ponytail. One look in the mirror confirmed that there was no hiding the marks from Angus’ bite, so might as well own it. “I’m sure I could get a babysitter to come with.” There, that barely had any bitterness to it.

“Don’t think of it that way,” she shook her head so that the blonde waves swayed back and forth. “Think of it more like sexy bodyguards.” I laughed in spite of myself. “Speaking of which.” There was a glint in her sea-blue eyes that suddenly made me very suspicious. “You’ll want to swear off humans for awhile until you get used to your new strength. Don’t want to break your toys.”

I stared at her in confusion until comprehension crashed over me, immediately followed by a furious blush. “That is certainly not an issue. Happily single since the divorce became final last year.”

“Ah,” said Mickayla knowingly, and I belatedly remembered with no small amount of chagrin that she was a therapist. “That’s why you’re so determined to not get involved with a pack. Too much commitment.”

“Ugh, it’s too early for psychoanalysis,” I groaned, rubbing at my face.

“Come on, cranky pants, let’s get you some breakfast. New wolves are kinda like kids. If they’re cranky, do they need food or sleep? Antsy? Then they need to go run off some energy.” She linked her arm and in mine as we set off for the kitchen.

“Gee, thanks for that glowing comparison,” I said snidely.

“And in your case, maybe caffeine.”

“Give me tea and nobody gets hurt,” I pronounced solemnly.

“Threatening bodily harm before nine am, are you sure she’s submissive?” asked a man who had come out of a room behind us, also evidently on the hunt for breakfast.

“Watch this.” Mickayla fixed me with a glare and before I even knew it my neck bent against my will till my throat was bared to her. And she hadn’t even drawn on any power. I glared at her from the corner of my eye and my face grew flaming hot.

“I wanna try,” he said. I met his dark brown eyes with no small amount of anger that he thought he could control me so easily. “How? I’m more dominant than you,” he sputtered at Mickayla in confusion. She laughed and wrapped an arm around each of our shoulders.

“She doesn’t know or respect you, Brian. Neither her or her wolf are gonna roll over for some stranger unless he seriously pulls rank. Do you think Alan would for just any old wolf?” she asked the somewhat forlorn wolf.

“Who’s Alan?” At the stairs, Mickayla released us and led the way down with Brian in back so that I was sandwiched between them. It seemed automatic, like their instincts to protect subtly guided their movements.

“Our submissive and resident quack,” Brian answered. I automatically started to bristle at labeling any healer with such an epithet. That thought was pushed out when it occurred to me that if they had both a submissive and a female, then they probably had no need of another.

“I’d like to see you call him that the next time he has to patch you up,” she said dryly.

The kitchen was sized and equipped to feed a small army. Come to think of it, was there any difference between that and a pack? People moved in vaguely organized chaos, piling plates with bacon, sausage, eggs, hashbrowns, and various baked goods before moving to the dining room on the far side. Mickayla reached around someone, who was busy wrestling the Danish that he wanted from the rest of the basket, grabbed two plates and handed one to me. Being small meant I could easily dart around and through people to get in and out quickly, but I had no idea what the protocol was for seating arrangements so I stuck close to Mickayla and Matt, who’d joined us.

I had never seen a dining table so big, at least a dozen people were already sitting and there was room for more. It was obviously custom made. The kitchen also had a table that was pushed up against the main one so that everyone could be seated. I gave Mickayla raised eyebrows in question.

“You get our fearless leader’s right hand side. Normally that’s Tom’s, Angus’ second, but since he’s not here you get it as our honoured guest,” she said with only a hint of teasing. I gave her a grateful look before taking the seat in question. I stifled my surprise when she and Matt sat to my left. Evidently they were high in the hierarchy to sit next to the second, which I thought was a silly term when Beta would have made much more sense.

“Shane and Matt will be ready to hit the road by 10:30,” Angus said casually after I’d made some headway into my meal, trying my best to ignore him. Why he thought I’d be safer with two strange werewolves than on my own, I would never understand. But Matt couldn’t be all bad if Mickayla had married him.

“So soon?” I asked just as casually as I liberally doused my hashbrowns with salt and pepper. “I thought I might stick around and get to know ya’ll better. If I have to give up my job, there’s not much of a reason to go back to Oregon right away. Unless that would be an issue?” Put two or more intelligent beings in a room together and politics could spontaneously erupt in a vacuum. Visiting a pack in another state before even meeting the one back home could potentially cause more than an eruption.

The room went eerily silent as the others waited to see what their Alpha would say. Most of them seemed to be mildly surprised and curious. I was pretty sure they had all noticed the mark on my neck, but no one had said anything nor given it a second glance. Despite the weird fluttery feeling of fear in my chest, I managed to actually look him in the face. Not the eye, of course, but his strong chin, which was one of his few physical aspects that said Alpha. Maybe that was because I always had trouble seeing men with weak chins as dominant.

“The Eugene Pack was hard-pressed to welcome you on such short notice, so no feathers will be ruffled. And despite what that crazy lone wolf might have put in your head, you are free to travel.” He gave a small smile that eased some of the tension that had somehow crept into my shoulders. I was no Helen of Troy, but the apparent rarity of submissive females and the territoriality of werewolves could create a powder keg waiting to go off. As much as I enjoyed yanking his chain, any fallout could affect both packs and they didn’t deserve that.

Mickayla made a “gimme” gesture at Brian, who sat a few seats down from her. He sighed and handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Haven’t you learned not to bet against my mate yet?” Matt shook his head.

“Hey, didn’t she only go out with you because of a bet?” Brian retorted.

“Yeah, and even though I won, I still ended up losing,” Mickayla said with mock ruefulness. The banter and round of chuckles said that it was an old joke.

“Speaking of sore losers,” I said to her with a pointed look, “I have some wet, dirty socks in dire need of a wash if there’s a washing machine I could use?”

“I’ll show you where we keep our poor beleaguered beast chained up in the basement,” Shane offered as he stood up with his empty plate. I followed suit since I was done as well. Mickayla surreptitiously slipped me a tenner as I passed, which immediately went into my back pocket.

“Don’t scare the poor girl!” someone called out.

“Eh, she’s seen your face and it hasn’t run her off yet.” The teasing faded only slightly as I tagged along behind Shane.

“O captain, my captain,” Mickayla said without a trace of mockery. There never was with her. “If I may beg an audience?” I nodded with a small smile that conveyed exactly what I thought of her false formality.

“Since it’s our duty to woo the new girl, some of us were thinking of showing her around town,” Mickayla said once we were ensconced in my office. I had a suspicion that the others she was thinking of had no inkling of their implication in her plotting yet.

“Considering how she navigated rush hour traffic to evade Tom, I’d say she knows the area pretty well.” Neither the wolf nor I liked the idea of Ellie leaving our sight. I propped one hip on my desk without a care that it put my head slightly lower than if I were standing. Like most of my wolves, she was taller than me anyway and she had never been anything other than proper. Oh sure, she would skirt the bounds of propriety when the situation allowed for it, but never in a manner that would call my authority into question.

“It might be good for her to get out and see that we’re not as draconian as that John made us out to be.” Translation: prove to her she’s not going to lose all of her freedom or she’ll bolt again.

“If you are going to manipulate me, you’re going to have to do a better job than that.” While her point was valid, I was not about to let her think I would cave so easily.

“You can talk at her until you’re blue in the face, but she won’t understand the benefits of a pack until she sees it,” said Mickayla. “She’s only staying because the evil that you know is better and partly to tweak your tail.” I raised an eyebrow at that observation. “Ellie’s a modern woman suddenly thrown into submissive wolf mentality and those instincts scare the daylight out of her. So she’s going to make us all work for it before she settles down.”

“Dominance is dictated by a person’s nature before the Change,” I shook my head. “She’s submissive because she was as a human.”

“I think her ex-husband did a number on her, or maybe John, or both,” she said with a small frown, which I mirrored at the thought of what might have happened to her. “That’s why she’s so prickly with any male who tries to play power games with her, like verbally bitch-slapping the guys last night. If she can relax where there aren’t so many wolves, she might tell me more.”

“What do you have in mind?” I asked after regarding her thoughtfully for several beats. Part of that time was spent contemplating tearing apart Ellie’s ex.

“Hit Pike’s Place until she realizes she’s not ready for so much public. One or two of us should be able to help her keep control.” Mickayla’s smile was far too predatory to belong on the face of a therapist.

“One of the biggest tourist traps on a three-day weekend?” I asked in disbelief and gave her the look that idea deserved.

“She still thinks of herself as human and she’s likely to screw up pretty badly until she sees that. The sooner we get that out of the way, the sooner she might calm down,” she pointed out.

“Take Matt and Shane with you,” I sighed and waved at her to go. Not only were they good muscle, but they were both married, even if Shane’s wife was human.

“Technically this is pack business, especially since she would work well with Alan, both as a medic and a sub.” If she’d said anyone other than Alan, my hackles would’ve gone up. Their temperaments, although both being submissive, weren’t suited for mating. And I got the feeling that Ellie liked her men dominant, despite what she may say. I affected a much put-upon sigh, drew out my wallet, selected a credit card, and passed it to the blonde. She accepted it with both hands, kissed the simple ring on my middle finger, then flashed a smile and a wink before dashing off to find her charge.

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imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs · 4 years

Text

RoseGarden Week Day 2:🌹 October 28th: Stars

Heads up! minors keep on Scrolling

“Are…Are we sure this is appropriate?”

That was probably the fifth or sixth time Oscar had asked that. This night alone, that is.

The woman applying makeup to his face rolled her eyes and applied the second fake sideburn to the side of his face.

“Yes, it’s appropriate,” she said, “We’ve checked you out for STDs from head to toe. You’re clean.”

“It’s not that,” Oscar said, fidgeting in his seat, “it’s just…”

He turned around and faced the mirror on the dressing room vanity.

“What if…what if someone I know sees this?”

The woman sighed.

“It’s not going to come to that.” she put her hand on his shoulder, “this film will be for your private collection. It won’t be advertised on our website or released on the internet in any way. We’re not that kind of company.”

Oscar looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“If you’re worried about having a job after this, I do make up for major motion pictures.”

“Really?”

“I was a student of Rick Baker.”

“The werewolf guy?”

“That’s right. Now, hold still while I give you your unibrows.”

Oscar wasn’t entirely sure why he needed them. Sideburns, unibrows, and yellow contacts certainly didn’t seem like something the star of an adult video would wear.

“If you’re wondering about the makeup, our director is pretty…”

The woman paused, probably trying to find the appropriate word.

“Out there.”

“Oh.”

“She used to be a performer herself.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she still takes parts from time to time. But mostly she just directs and produces now.”

“What about you?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Are you a… an adult performer, too?”

“Yep. Worked with the director a few times before, too.”

“Really? You just seem so…so…”

“Normal? Sure. Just because I like to wear cat ears while getting ploughed doesn’t mean I don’t have a life outside of it.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. He wasn’t an aficionado, but he knew one star that had cat ears as a gimmick.

“You’re Kitty Loggins!”

The woman smiled.

“Not when I’m off camera. Here, I’m just Blake Belladonna.”

“Oh,” Oscar said, “well, it’s nice to meet you, Blake. I’m Oscar.”

“Nice to meet you too Oscar.”

The woman finished gluing the fake hair between his eyebrows and reached for a triangular piece of fabric that looked suspiciously like an animal ear.

“Almost done, just hold still for a moment.”

The people of the Beacon Adult Entertainment had been nothing but nice to him the whole time he’d been here. A far cry from the temple of debauchery he was expecting when he’d gotten here.

But still…

He’d entered the contest as a joke!

Enter now to win a shoot and a day with a Pornstar, the digital flyer had read in big carnival-style font. He was sure it was just a scam or something in that ballpark, since it had appeared in the part of his inbox marked as spam. He’d signed on the dotted digital line and beefed up his virus protection. In two weeks, he and his friends would be laughing about it, no sweat.

But a week and a half later, it had come in the mail.

Congratulations to our new winner, it said in gold foil, you’ve won an all-expenses paid trip to Los Angeles to spend a day with one of our performers at Beacon Adult Entertainment.

He’d almost choked when he finished reading the pass. What would his Aunt say?

It wasn’t like he was a regular patron of the salacious screen stories. Most of the time, it was just that he had to scratch an itch and he bought a dirty magazine with some of the money he’d saved up or watch a video online.

If she found out he’d entered a porn-related contest, even as a joke...

It had taken every bit of his guile and not inconsiderable innocent act to get his aunt to think he’d just won a vacation with no porn involved.

Now, she was asleep in a four star hotel across town while he was sitting in a studio dressing room, getting ready to have sexual intercourse with a total stranger. Thank God the BAE Agency had sent them a personal car and he hadn’t had to tell cab ‘can you take me to the place where they shoot porn?’

It’s not like he couldn’t back out. Nothing in the contest guidelines said that he couldn’t.

But going home meant they’d have to go leave so soon, his Aunt would get suspicious and that meant he might have to come clean to her about how he won this vacation.

“All done,” Blake said, turning Oscar around in his chair so he was facing the mirror, “what do you think?”

In all honesty, it wasn’t bad. He still looked like him, just a little hairier. And the false ears gave him a wolfy appearance.

“It’s pretty good.”

“I do my best. But you might want the brace yourself.”

Blake walked to the other side of the room and took a book from out of her bag.

“The director should be here any minute?”

Oscar frowned.

“Why would I need to brace—“

“Hell-ooo!”

A tall woman with a pair of aviator sunglasses and blonde hair as generous as her busom burst into the room with a sing-song shout. Judging by the t-shirt that read ‘trust me, I’m a director’ Oscar could probably guess who this was.

“So where’s our newest star?”

Blake pointed to where Oscar sat and the boy shrunk as the woman gazed at him from over the tip of her sunglasses.

“Well, aren’t you just the cutest little thing.”

The director pinched his cheek and Oscar felt the distinct need to commit seppuku.

“And, I think I have just the girl for you.”

“Yang,” Blake sighed, “Don’t do this again.”

“Do what?”

“This whole…matchmaker thing. Winter almost quit because of you.”

“But she didn’t.”

“I’m still surprised she and Qrow didn’t kill each other.”

“John Boorman did the same thing on Excalibur with Nicol Williamson and Helen Mirren.”

“Boorman didn’t need his actors to have sex with each other.”

The woman, Yang, waved her hand dismissively.

“Details, details…”

Yang grabbed (as in, physically picked him up like a package) Oscar and sat him down in the hallway.

“So, kid, you ready to get your mind blown?”

“No.” Oscar said, only half sure that was his answer.

“Perfect!” Yang said, ushering him in the direction of what he assumed was the set.

“I know you’re nervous,” she said, “that’s natural. You read the script?”

“Yeah, it’s…”

“Garbage, I know. Just give it your all and don’t worry about how you look. And before I forget, here’s your stage name. We were a little short on time, but I think we came up with something that suits you.”

The director, Yang, handed him what looked like a business card, which Oscar took. Half a second later, he stared at her, incredulous.

“Pino Largo!?”

“Oh, come on!” Yang said, slapping him on the back, “Everyone has names like that in this biz.”

“But why do I need a stage name? You’re not releasing this!”

Yang stopped and turned to look at him, confused.

“We’re not?”

Oscar shook his head.

“No!”

Yang recovered in record time.

“Well, we didn’t advertise a new release anyway. No skin off our nose.”

🌹 🌹 🌹

The story was simple. A filthy take on little red riding hood where Little Red fucked the wolf’s brains out. Oscar was just thankful he didn’t have to wear an old lady nightgown for his part. Just be ruefully naked under the sheets in a room full of people in a mock woodland cottage bedroom.

He shivered.

Did Yang have to pick a filming locale that was so drafty? If it wasn’t for the bedclothes, he’d be freezing his butt off.

“Sorry I’m late!”

A voice off to Oscar’s left caught his ear and he turned to see who it was. It sounded familiar.

Oscar turned his head enough to see a woman in a red jacket was hugging Yang. When she finally pulled away, Oscar could see her face.

Ruby Rose.

He was shooting a porno with Ruby Rose.

Suddenly, Oscar’s throat felt like a desert and his stomach like a butterfly habitat.

Of all the adult actresses he would have to appear in a film with, it had to be with the one he’d been crushing on since the first time he’d seen her in the swimsuit issue of a magazine!

When Oscar had told himself that he didn’t follow adult entertainment, he may not have been being completely honest with himself.

With her petite cutie pie looks and Hot Topic style, she was easily the most gorgeous creature he'd ever seen. Plus, she was always so funny in her videos and make-up videos. And she also knew karate, so that was kind of cool. And also…

“Ruby! Come meet your co-star!”

Damn that crazy director! Now they were coming this way.

Just play it cool, thought Oscar, It’s no big deal, it’s just the beginning of the end of your life.

Oscar tugged the covers up over his face so that his eyes were the only thing visible. He could just say he was method acting.

“Ruby, this is Pino. He’s the one who won the contest. Say hi, Pino.”

Oscar looked up at Ruby, sweet smiling and in no way sexual. Great, not only was she sexy, she was cute and just…

Say something Oscar, he thought, anything!

“You…you have silver eyes…”

Anything but that! Ruby frowned, obviously confused.

“They’re contacts for the shoot.”

Oscar didn’t have time to apologize or explain before Yang started shouting.

“Places, everyone! Ruby, get to costumes!”

Nice work, Casanova, Oscar thought as Ruby hurried off, if this wasn’t going to be awkward enough.

🌹 🌹 🌹

“Quiet on the set!” Yang shouted through a megaphone.

“And…ACTION!!!”

The door to the set opened and Ruby crept into the fake bedroom.

“Grandma,” she said in a faux-innocent voice, “I’m here!”

“I…I’m in the bedroom.” Oscar said. The script had said to use a fake old lady voice but Oscar had completely forgotten until after he’d said the line

“You know, the innocent angle might actually work for us here.” Oscar heard Yang whisper.

When Ruby skipped over to the side of the bed, Oscar could see what she was wearing. It was less in the sexy range and more in the cute range, with lace and ruffles but why did she have to wear it like a pro!?

“Grandma,” Ruby said, leaning in too close for Oscar’s comfort, “What big eyes you have!”

Was she wearing perfume? Was it cherry and rose scented?

“A-all the better to…to see you with…”

He swallowed. He was sure that right now he had the on-camera charisma of a pet rock. But backing out meant a disappointed aunt, so he might as well soldier on.

“My dear.”

If Ruby noticed the tremor in her voice, she gave no sign of it.

“And Grandma, what big ears you have!”

“All the better to hear you with.”

He hoped that nobody would notice how he didn’t add ‘my dear’ to that last line. He had like fifteen minutes alone with the script, so he hoped the crew would cut him a break.

“And Grandma…”

Here it comes, Oscar thought, the most embarrassing part of the script. Whoever wrote it deserves to be dipped in batter and deep fried! Ruby gripped the bed covers and Oscar braced himself.

“What a big…”

The moment the covers came off, Oscar fought down the urge to cover himself. No one’s going to see this, he told himself. When it’s over and they’ve given him a copy, he would find a dark place in the woods, bury it, and then never speak of this again. And from the expression on Ruby’s face, Oscar thought she’d appreciate that course of action.

“Oh…”

Oh? What was oh? Was that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?

“Oh my…”

What was she doing? Right now, she was just looking confused.

“That…that is a big cock.”

“What?”

Oscar looked down at himself. He’d always thought he was normal sized.

“I just…”

Ruby put hand on her head and chuckled.

“I kind of wish I could take a picture.”

Oscar sat up, intrigued by his co-star’s change in demeanor.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. I didn’t know what I was expecting when we had that contest, but whoa!”

“Well, is it…is this okay?” Oscar asked hesitantly, shifting in his seat, “if you don’t want to do this, I get it.”

An amused smile turned up the right side of Ruby’s mouth.

“That's sweet of you, but don't worry. I’ve got enough talent for both of us.”

“Oh. Well that’s probably good, because…”

Oscar steeled himself. Of all the ways he could have pictured admitting this to a girl, this wasn’t one of them.

Because it’s…”

He said it quietly, hoping he wouldn’t have to repeat it. Ruby frowned.

“What was that?”

He repeated it, only slightly louder.

“One more time.”

“ I said…it’s…it’s my first time.”

For a moment, Ruby stared at him, and Oscar feared the worst. Before he could calculate where this situation fell on a scale of one to dying from embarrassment, Ruby covered her eyes and squealed loud enough to make Oscar jump.

“What!? What is it?”

“You’re just…so cute! With your wolf ears and your blushing and your big cock and…”

“This isn’t in the script but it is GOLD!” Yang whispered from offset.

Or at least Oscar thought that’s what he heard Yang say, but he was still hooked on what Ruby had called him.

Cute? Well, that was a boost to his self-confidence. It wasn’t every day a woman complimented your anatomy and said you were cute in the same conversation.

“Well, while we’re being honest,” said Oscar, “I’ve had a crush on you for a while now.”

Ruby blushed and fidgeted and Oscar’s heart went pitter pat.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. I watch your interviews and read articles about you and I…um…

“It’d be a lie if I didn’t tell you I never… caught myself thinking about him when I shouldn’t.”

“Oh?”

Ruby crawled onto the bed, leaning forward into his personal space and Oscar felt his throat tighten, but in a good way.

“Then, what kinds of things does Mister Wolf think about Little Red?”

For a moment, Oscar’s mind went blank before a laugh finally burst from his throat, a laugh which Ruby caught.

“We’re not exactly staying in character here.” Ruby chuckled.

“It’s not going to be released anyway.” Oscar said.

Ruby smirked, her lips a hair’s breath away from the left side of his mouth.

“Well in that case…”

“WE’VE RENTED THIS PLACE FOR A LITTLE OVER TWO HOURS!” Yang shouted through her bullhorn, “LET’S SEE SOME ACTION!”

That was certainly a mood killer. Couldn’t that director just leave the cameras running and buzz off? It’s not like this was going to make anyone any money.

“I’m gonna do it!”

Oscar turned to the sound of Ruby's voice. His co-star had a look of iron resolve on her face.

“I’m gonna give you the ride of your life!”

Before he could respond, Ruby tackled him onto the mattress, smashing their lips together. Oscar's mind, meanwhile, was reeling, not able to form a cohesive question, let alone think through the sensations this girl on top of him was sending by running her hands up and across his exposed skin. Maybe he didn't have anything to worry about…

🌹 🌹 🌹

I Might do a mature version on AO3 later. Sorry this is so freaking late.

#My Writing #RWBY #Rosegarden #Rosegarden Week #Oscar Pine #Ruby Rose #Yang Xiao Long #Blake Belladonna #Adult Entertainers AU #FREAKIN FINALLY!!!!!#It's lemon scented #Sorry it's late #So so late #So so so so so so so so so so so so #soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo #Late

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lemonsandstrawberries · 5 years

Text

I am Iron Man

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony), MCU

characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts, James Rhodey Rhodes, James Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

summary: When Tony used the Iron Gauntlet and erased Thanos and his troops, Steve thought he would have to watch his boyfriend die. Thanks to quick thinking of their team, Tony got a chance to live and the healing process starts.

length: 3 781

warnings: MAJOR AVENGERS ENDGAME SPOILERS

a/n: this is my last fic from the ones I planned to write after Endgame. the happy ending. totally self-indulgent and from a Stony shipper point of view! also, it doesn’t have to make sense if it makes me feel better. hopefully, it will make you feel better too!

——————–

I am Iron Man

He was looking at it, but he couldn't believe it. Alien troops fading away and turning into dust, just in front of his eyes. In the middle of it all, he saw Thanos taking his last breath, before he turned into nothing, vanishing from the face of the Earth.

They did it. They won. How did they win?

And then Steve saw how.

Tony. In the midst of a broken world, among dust that was left of the compound, his back leaned against some rubble, supporting him. Right hand covered up to the elbow with gold and infinity stones shining on knuckles, above from that dark and charred, black marks stretching all up to his face, covering half of it. Tony's gaze was unfocused and his breath was so shallow, it was almost gone.

Tony did it. He did the snap and defeated Thanos and his army. They won.

And yet...

Tony was dying. His Tony was dying.

The whole world around Steve slowed down, draining out of color and sound, eyes focused on his boyfriend's almost lifeless form.

Tony was dying. His Tony was dying.

He couldn't move, his body not listening to him. His whole body felt heavy and there was a painful silence ringing in his ears, stretching and consuming everything.

Tony was dying. His Tony was dying.

Rhodey was the first one to get to Tony. He opened his faceplate and leaned over his best friend, reaching to him, eyes wide and terrified.

Tony was going to die.

Steve couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. The weight of grief and pain smothered him, his knees buckled and Steve fell, digging his hands into the dry ground, hot tears blurring his vision and falling down.

Tony was going to die. His Tony was going to die.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

It won't end like this.

A bullet of fire and energy cut the air. Steve raised his head, watching Captain Marvel landing between Tony and Rhodey. Rhodey said something, gesturing to Tony and the glove, and Carol leaned down. Something snapped, just like a piece of wood snaps in two, dry and loud. Then a metal clank when the Iron Glove with infinity stones was thrown away, landing few feet in front of Steve, discarded like something toxic. Steve looked at the stones and gold, eyes wide and not understanding. There was another person flying past him and he recognized the silver and blue armor, belonging to Pepper. Carol and Rhodey moved aside when Pepper stopped, her hand reaching to Tony, a thick, foamy substance Steve had seen before spraying from her fingers and coating Tony's right side with a shell resembling frost. Tony's mouth moved, faint and weak, but Steve read the words.

'Hi Pep.'

Tony wasn't dying.

He was alive. Barely, but alive.

They still had a chance.

Feeling new energy coursing through him, Steve got back on his feet. He pushed his emotions aside and acted on instinct, falling back into the line of command. Time was crucial and they had to act quickly.

"Queens!" Steve called in a strong voice when Spider-man tried to make his way past him. The teenager stopped, hearing the call. "Go and find the wizard! Bring him here!"

"But- but Mr. Stark-" Peter hesitated in a broken voice, face pale and dirty and with droplets of dried blood near his nose and mouth. He kept looking away, torn what to do and just desperately needing to get to Tony.

"Go!" Steve yelled. There was no pleading note in his voice, just a rough, cold command. The kid was smart, he would understand. Peter took a last glance at Tony and turned around, searching and calling for Doctor Strange.

"Sam?" Steve put a hand to his ear, relieved to find that he still had the communication device on himself. "Sam, if you can hear me, find T'Challa or Shuri, we need to get Tony to Wakanda, now," he gave more orders. He didn't get an answer and his eyes scanned the battlefield looking for anyone he could turn to when the device crackled.

"Copy that," Sam said, cutting the connection.

They had a chance. There still was a chance.

Steve rushed forward, giving coordinates where Tony was, trying to organize everything as quickly and smoothly as possible.

Tony was not going to die. His Tony was not going to die.

***

It was taking forever. Why it was taking so long?

Steve couldn't find his place. He was pacing back and forth along the corridor, his shoulders squared and jaw tight with worry. Pepper and Rhodey were sitting in the corner on the couch, their thighs touching, Rhodey's arm slung over Pepper's back. They were silent and exhausted and worried. Steve looked around. Peter curled on the chair, holding knees close to himself, trying not to break. Bruce, Thor, and Clint remained silent, avoiding everyone's gaze. Even Nebula stayed, leaned against the wall with arms crossed and closed eyes, waiting for news.

The door to the surgery room opened and a female doctor approached them, everyone focusing on her.

"We couldn't save his arm," she said in a thick, Wakandan accent, "but he will live."

Everyone breathed out in relief, but it was Peter who uncurled and yelled out in excitement, getting a scolding look from the doctor and amused ones from the team. Pepper started to smile through her tears and Rhodey hugged her close, not even trying to hold back his own emotions, laughter mixing with sobbing. Steve felt a huge boulder lifting off his arms and the painful grip on his lungs and throat loosening.

Tony would live.

***

"I am sorry about your arm, Tony," Helen said, busying next to Tony's bed, examining his damaged right side. His arm had to be amputated at the shoulder and the damage from using the gauntlet spread all over to his face, leaving a network of scars and damaged tissue. Helen gently examined Tony's face, looking at his jawline and temple area. "After all this radiation exposure, you are still lucky the nerves on your face are intact."

"Yup. Lucky," Tony repeated, nodding to the words. It took days before he got well enough to do basic activities and still was on bed rest, confined to a small and bright room in the medical sector in Wakanda. His tone was light and optimistic and he even smiled at Steve, trying to lighten the mood and not deepen the frown on soldier's face. Steve tried to not look so worried, but it was difficult when he saw the dark network of scars on his boyfriend's body, not even imagining the pain Tony had to endure when he had slid the gauntlet on his arm. He tried smiling back and to match Tony's smile, but it came out as strained and forced and not genuine at all.

"Drink this," Rhodey handed Tony a green smoothie, some special blend of herbs and nutrients to nourish him and help to clear his blood. Tony took it with his left arm and sipped through a straw, not even protesting at the earthy taste. Pepper was also in the room, changing the display of flowers and balloons and 'get well soon' cards that were flooding to Wakanda from all over the world. Iron Man, Earth's best defender. Steve liked that title much more from the famous 'genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist' that stuck to Tony for years.

"I think we can fix this," Helen said, creasing her forehead before smiling and gesturing to the damaged half of Tony’s face and Steve looked hopefully at her. "It will take a long time and a number of sessions in the cradle, but I think we can get a good result with synthetic tissue."

Tony didn't say anything and quietly finished the smoothie. When he was done, he pushed the straw out with his tongue and turned to Helen. "Yeah, great. Maybe except that, let's not do it?" he asked, his voice waving at the last words. The room fell silent and Steve looked in shock at Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey pausing their work.

"Tony, what are you talking about?" Rhodey was the first one to break the silence. Maybe it was the painkillers speaking and Tony was just dazed and not thinking clearly.

"I am thinking that this," he said, using his left hand to point at the scars on his face, "is not lethal. It is not spreading and is under control. Improving this would be just for cosmetic reasons."

Steve stared at Tony is silence. The whole room was silent, and Pepper and Rhodey exchanged worried looks.

"Road accidents. Acid. Burning," Tony listed, not addressing anyone in particular, more of having a conversation with himself. "It all happens all over the world, all the time. And people have to live with it," he touched the damaged skin on his cheek. "Why I should be the one privileged asshole who can get healed while millions of people can't?" he asked, not really waiting for anyone to answer and let the question hang in the air. Then, he turned to Helen. "Your cradle is amazing and will revolutionize the medical industry. Please keep working on it and once it will be available to the public, I will sign in line. And until that happens," he faced Steve on his left, "you will have to get used to me looking like this," he said, sounding minimally sorry and a whole lot sarcastic.

It was the first time Steve had smiled for real in many, many days.

***

Thanks to T'Challa's hospitality, Tony and Steve stayed in Wakanda until the clearing after the battle and rebuilding of the new Avengers compound had been finished. Tony kept healing under the watchful eye of Wakanda's medics and kept working on projects, forming a bond with Shuri and welcomed to used her lab for the time being. Steve trained and sketched and organized a new life for the Avengers and for himself and Tony. The Guardians and Thor left to space, Doctor Strange and Wong retreated to Sanctum Sanctorum and Peter resumed his education, attending school once more like a regular teenager and swinging by the compound whenever he had a chance to visit Tony. Sam went back to VA, and Steve helped him during lectures from time to time, while Bucky enrolled in the group. Soon, Pepper shared the news that she and Happy were expecting and awaiting the birth of their firstborn, Tony calling dibs on being the godfather and Pepper accepted it with a smile, not seeing a different possibility. Slowly, everything went back to normal, the missing pieces falling back in their places.

"You know," Tony yawned, spread comfortably on the couch in the new compound, his missing arm hidden under a black shirt, "if they would put us together, one healthy dude would come out of it," he said, gesturing with his left hand between himself, Rhodey and Bucky.

Steve looked at Tony with a confused expression on his face, the same look mirrored on their friends' faces.

"He would have two pairs of legs, Tony," Rhodey said calmly, closing the fridge and holding a plate with a sandwich on it.

"Kinda like a human centaur," Tony mused out, nodding to himself.

"That is not a thing," Rhodey answered and grinned at Steve, catching his shocked expression. Tony was still on a high dose of painkillers and did tend to say the most random things from time to time.

"Hey, you, one armed bandit!" Tony called, sitting up on the couch. Bucky turned to him, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Come here for a sec, I want to look at that arm Shuri made for you," he said, calling Bucky over.

"It is your arm that is missing, not your legs, come here on your own, Two-Face," Bucky retorted, and Steve gagged in panic, trying to scold Bucky solely with a look. Bucky only shrugged, not remorseful at all.

Tony seemed more amused than insulted and turned to Rhodey, hungry eyes focusing on the sandwich before flipping up to his friend. "Sandwich me, Rhodes," Tony said, sounding as flirty and dirty as he just intended to.

Rhodey grimaced, because no, painkillers or not, this just sounded wrong. "Get your own sandwich, Tony," Rhodey replied before Steve had the chance to jump in and offer to make a sandwich for his boyfriend.

"Un-freaking-believable," Tony said, raising his one arm up in a dramatic gesture, that admittedly looked a lot less dramatic. "How many times do I have to almost die for this planet to get some respect around here, not mentioning getting a sandwich-"

"Okay, okay!" Rhodey went back to the kitchen isle, opening the fridge and taking out some deli meat, cheese and mayo, putting it all on a slice of rye bread.

"Don't forget the pickles," Tony called, smiling sweetly when Rhodey send him a sour look. With two plates with sandwiches on, Rhodey walked to the couch, handing Tony one of them.

"Thanks!" Tony beamed a smile and grabbed the sandwich, standing up from the couch and walking away, Rhodey looking after him with a scoff. Tony made it over to Bucky and set next to him instead, too close and not having any issues with barging into Bucky's personal space. He put the sandwich in his mouth and used his free hand to urge the former soldier to put his bionic arm closer for inspection.

Steve put the end of the pencil to his lips and chewed it in thoughts, watching everyone in the room. Rhodey took Tony's place on the couch and bit into the sandwich, while Tony ran his hand delicately over the vibranium lines in Bucky's bionic arm, asking questions in a sandwich obscured hum, Bucky answering the best he could, trying to decipher the words. Steve kept looking in Tony's and Bucky's direction, his heart happy with seeing his boyfriend and best friend being on speaking terms. Still, he would prefer if Bucky was nicer to Tony, who still was in a delicate state and was recovering. Then he realized that Tony would absolutely hate if someone took pity on him and maybe sarcasm responding to sarcasm what was he needed, and not doting over.

***

In front of the team, Tony was coping remarkably well with a missing arm and scarred face. Just sometimes there were situations that gave him more troubles.

Steve heard a thud, when something heavy fell into the sink, a curse following. He waited for another sound and soon heard another thud.

"Babe?" he called in the direction of the adjoined bathroom. "You okay?" he asked, deciding to stay in bed for the time being.

"M'fine…"

Somehow Tony didn't sound fine. It was hard for Steve to accept, but he had to learn to not barge in whenever he suspected that Tony had troubles with everyday tasks. Tony was still capable of taking care of himself and rarely asked for help, unless it was absolutely necessary. Just something in the tone of his voice told Steve that he could use some help... Throwing the covers away, Steve got out of the bed and peered into the bathroom, leaning over the door frame. Tony was turned away from him and saw Steve in the mirror and smiled weakly. In his left hand, he was holding an electric shaver.

"I have some troubles," Tony admitted in a defeated sigh.

Steve clicked his tongue sympathetically, entering the bathroom. No matter the circumstances, Tony Stark had to keep his trademark goatee impeccable. In the last days, Tony had become nicely scruffed and rough, but it was time to get back to his usual look. Just it turned out to be more difficult than he expected.

"Can I do it?" Steve asked, holding Tony by the chin and examining his face. He didn't want it to sound like he was suggesting that Tony couldn't shave on his own. Steve felt that he needed that moment of closeness too. Just to feel connected to Tony again.

"Yeah," Tony agreed, handing him the electric shaver. Steve took it and put away on the shelf.

"Let's do it the traditional way," he smiled gently at his boyfriend, reaching for a disposable razor and his shaving soap in a ceramic bowl.

"You won't get a sharp cut using that thing," Tony grimaced.

"Try me," Steve kept smiling, almost challenging. How Tony could say no to that?

Tony watched Steve dipping the shaving brush into water and shaking it to get some of the excess water off. Then he rubbed the brush in a circular motion over the soap, creating some paste on the tips.

"Give me your hand," Steve asked and Tony reached his hand out, palm upwards. Dropping a few more droplets of water on his skin, Steve pressed the brush in the middle of the palm and swirled it around until the foam became dense and heavy, almost like whipped cream. With long strokes of fingers, Steve applied the foam over brunet’s jaw and neck and anywhere his face became too scruffy. Tony closed his eyes when the razor slid down his skin, getting the hair off and shaping his beard and mustache. Quiet, clinking sound when Steve rinsed the razor in a bowl of clean water from time to time, resuming the process. Steve took his time, trying his best to recall the shape of Tony's goatee. Tony was leaning into his touch, not wincing even once, putting all his trust in Steve and Steve felt a serene, full of love feeling taking over him. It was so domestic and comforting. When Steve was satisfied with the result, he used a damp towel to wipe his boyfriend’s face clean and patted it dry.

"All done," Steve said proudly. Tony opened his eyes and looked into the mirror.

"Huh," he mused out touching his smooth cheek and jawline. Steve even remembered to leave a thin strip of facial hair there, just like he liked it. "Looks good," he smiled at his reflection, turning around. "Thanks."

"Welcome, babe," Steve smiled, leaning down for a kiss. It wasn't aimed at any spot in particular, but Tony still turned, making sure that it would fall on the left side of his face. When Steve kissed his cheek and straightened up, he looked admittedly a little irritated and a lot heartbroken.

"Sweetheart, you know I don't mind it," Steve whispered, meaning Tony's scarred face and neck. Steve really didn't care. Tony seemed to not care either, just in their intimate moments he seemed a bit more self-conscious.

"I know, I know," Tony grimaced, looking back at Steve, a sorry look in his eyes, "I am just not ready yet," he admitted in a quiet voice.

"Okay," Steve smiled softly, agreeing. "I will wait for you to be ready."

After all, there was no rush.

***

"Tony, lunch is ready, we all are waiting for you -" words got stuck in Steve's throat as soon as he entered Tony's workshop and saw his boyfriend. It seemed almost wrong, after months of living and getting used to one-armed Tony, here he was, standing in front of Steve, one arm flesh and bones, other shiny metal.

Tony smiled brightly, pleased with the stunned reaction. He moved his right arm and spread fingers and closed his fist a few times, showing that he had full control over it. "It is enhanced with vibranium," Tony said and Steve remembered the long talks his boyfriend had with the princess back in Wakanda. "Shuri helped. She gave me the blueprints for Bucky's arm so I went through the design, creating something new. Took a few tries before I was satisfied with the result."

Steve walked closer. He was still in awe and looked at the artificial limb attached to his boyfriend, completely stunned.

"So, I think this is what I will be doing in the nearest future. Creating prosthetic limbs. Of course, not vibranium for safety reasons and not as flashy as this one, or maybe flashy, all depends on the wearer-"

"It is amazing," Steve said breathlessly, wanting to touch it, but not daring to. Luckily, Tony understood the need and reached his prosthetic arm in Steve's direction, making the move slow enough to give him time to move away, if he changed his mind. Steve didn't budge and Tony rested the mechanical palm against his cheek, fingers touching his ear. It felt hard and smooth, but not unpleasant.

"It is warm," Steve said, not expecting that.

"It is temperature controlled. It is set to match my body temperature, but I can make it hotter or colder, up to a point where it can change into a weapon," Tony explained.

Steve put his hand on the artificial wrist and slid his hand down, cupping the elbow. It was smooth and flawless, its dimensions matching Tony's left arm perfectly.

Just…

"Is this your everyday arm?" Steve asked carefully, unsure if he worded himself correctly. The prosthetic was hot red almost up to the elbow, inner arm was gold and the part near Tony's tank top was red again. Almost like in Mark 3. Iron Man classic armor.

"Yeah," Tony laughed, "because I am -"

"Iron Man," Steve finished, smiling with joy. "You are Iron Man."

"I am Iron Man," Tony confirmed a proud note hearable in his voice, before it was gone, replaced by hesitation, "but I was thinking that maybe for a while I could not be Iron Man and you could not be Captain America? That maybe we could settle somewhere calm, maybe in a secluded house near a lake or something-"

And Tony didn't finish, Steve already pulling him into a kiss. He was carried on the moment and cupped Tony's face with both hands, lips meeting long and sweet. When he drew away, his gaze was soft and full of love, but the look was quickly gone when he realized where his hands were.

“Shit, sorry-” Steve said quickly, withdrawing from the touch. To his surprise, Tony stopped him and held his hands in place with his own hands, one palm pressed to healthy skin held by a warm hand, the other to his scarred cheek and ear held by the prosthetic arm. It was a new feeling and a bit confusing, but Steve focused on Tony’s brown eyes and soft lips instead. After all, it was still Tony. His Tony.

"So, that's a yes to my idea, right?" Tony asked after the kiss ended, just to be sure.

Steve only smiled and kissed him once more, whispering 'yes' over and over again.

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

Text

'Old wounds' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Old wounds"

"I came back for you....I had to do it because you're the one I owe my life !"

Chapter Summary : It's time for Yirina, Park, Zasha, Garrett & Price to get things done with Stone for good but the old complex in Cuba is going to open some bad wounds.....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3800

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It was it....tonight is going to be the night where Stone's life is going to end for real, he will have no chance to escape and we can't allow him to do that, everything we have done for the past two weeks against him....it will be tonight that everything will be decided and for everyone....me, Park, Zasha, Garrett, Price and his SAS men, letting Stone live another day wasn't an option at all, Stone is going to die but....during all this operation, I will have to face something else : the fact that we're going to fight to the same place where Lazar died, it will be an big struggle that I'm going to do.

And that fight inside of me was starting right after we got off the meeting point to join the complex, travelling to it by walk through the jungle. As we said, me, Park, Zasha, Price & some his mens were coming us while Garrett was taking another direction with the other SAS soldiers. Us were going to infiltrate the complex by the same way we used three years ago by the north while the others will take the attack by the south, let's hope it will not end in an disaster, it's the only thing I want.

After long minutes of walk inside the jungle, taking care of looking around us to check for any traps, we arrived near the complex, the same point that we used to wait last time with Park & Lazar that was in an abandoned building and by luck, nothing has pretty changed in here, including the old point of view that was allowing us to get an closer look on the main target : the abandoned hotel where Stone was obligated to hide.

"This place is looking like an fortress !" Price exclaimed as he was overlooking the hotel with his binoculars, he was right about, the place was even more protected than the last time with more sandbags and mounted MGs around the place. "This bastard isn't going to give up easily." He added, removing his binoculars from his eyes to look at us.

"Stone was aware that we were on him since weeks so he found himself means to defend his life." I said, remembering the conversation he got with Sonya Kuzmin in that phonebooth in West-Berlin an week ago, he knew of it. "I'm even sure that he's probably waiting for us to come."

"Maybe but we can't back down and we will not do this." Park affirmed, crossing her arms towards me, biting her left part of her bottom lips. "I'm not going to let Stone breath in the morning." She continued, taking an look on her MP5 at her feets.

"No one want this, Helen." Price told her, his binoculars in hands, having turned himself to look at her fully. "SAS wasn't going to let an rogue element continue to make our name dirty." He breathed as he was seeing Park's face trying to keep straight. "We're doing this for you, for William."

"William ?" Zasha stepped in, curious to hear that and frankly, I wouldn't want them to ask about this because it was an hot topic to talk about.

"It's...was Park's brother, an man I have in command, Smirnov." Price replied, not sure of telling them this as he was still looking to Park.

"Zed." I whispered, putting my left hand on their shoulder slowly. "You don't need to know about this." I said discreetly to them.

"I....I....okay." They expressed, understanding that talking about this was not an good idea, especially right now moments before we could actually act. "Do we go in force or in an discreet way ?" They asked, looking at Price.

"In force." Park was the one to respond to them, scratching the back of her head, looking at the hotel. "Even if we're making this in silence, Stone could know that we're here, it's better that we're showing him directly that."

"Stone was one of us and he know exactly how we're working so by going in force, he will be confused as going like that isn't the SAS style." Price proclaimed, his eyes on Zasha before he took his binoculars again to check the place up. "My men know exactly how it's going to work, sometimes we have to go off-grid to get things done."

"Get our hands dirty to keep the world clean...." I breathed as it was like the main thing that was highlighting the world of spies and black ops and everyone in here knows about it. "It's been like that everyday." I added to my statement as I look to my glovesless left hand, observing the burn mark that I had since years.

"How did this happened ?" Price asked, having seen my hand like that.

"That ?" I showed to him slowly my hand "I don't know...my memories never told me why I have this." I answered before I look at Zasha. "Do you know something about this ?"

"Uhm....no, you were never willing to talk about this to me or anyone else." Zasha shook their head as I hoped to have an answer from them, they were the one who really helped me to get some memories back but this mark is going to stay an mystery until I know. "I just know that you already had it when I joined you in the KGB."

"Okay." I slowly nodded to them, taking back my own MP5 in hands, an surplus from Park, she's been giving me an lot of things...clothes, guns, means...."Well, do you think we can start to move ?"

"I'll check the other team status." Price told as he was getting his binoculars back to his jacket before taking his radio in hands. "Roach, what's your status ?" He started.

"All good sir, awaiting for your orders to move on." We could heard this Roach talk through the radio.

"Good, we're going in force so be ready to act up at my command." Price ordered before the radio went off, putting it back on his jacket. "Okay, I think we can go now."

"Wait." I stopped everyone as I was looking at the church tower that was overlooking the entire complex. "We might need some snipers to help us." I suggested before I got my eyes on Zasha. "Zed, you remember my lessons in sniper rifles ?"

"Yes, I'm remembering them well." They said, realizing my words as they start to look outside, pointing on the church. "You want me to go on top of this church tower to cover everyone ? I'm in !"

"That's an good idea I didn't thought." Price said, sounding amazed as he turned around to look at one of his men. "Soap ?"

"Yes, sir ?" The man with an strange looking hair got up, an sniper rifle....an LW3 Tundra if I can see right.

"You're taking Smirnov with you on that church tower, give them an sniper rifle and also....don't make an hard fall." Price ordered him and he saluted him before he gesture Zasha to follow him.

"Hard fall ?" I demanded, an bit lost on that...maybe it was an joke....

"Soap managed to survive from the fall he did from an church tower in an old mission, he's really tough to say....an good kid." Price explained to me as he was taking his MP5 on the ground, checking the mag of it before looking at this men "Okay, it's time to get the work done !" He exclaimed and with that, we left the point of view to get out.

All of the stress of going back inside that place was filling me as we were getting out of the building, Zasha and this Soap taking the lead to get in the church in advance before we start to get inside the church too with everyone awaiting for Price's orders to attack. Me....Park, we were pretty nervous about all of this but it was too late to step back and we will never do this like Park said, we're here to stop Stone and we will stop him.

Then, in an instant, Price talked through his radio, signaling the beginning of the attack before we charged throught the door that was leading on the main street that was also leading to the hotel, the same one when Adler and his team got inside the complex last time. We did really surprised Stone's men that was keeping this street from up close and our surprise allowed us to get rid of them all but it wasn't the time to rest already as the gunshots were replacing the silence of the place.

Right after we cleared the street that we had to run to the place in front of the hotel before getting to cover as we were greeted by the multiple mounted MGs around the location : two located at windows and the main one was protecting the entrance to be approached and because of them, we couldn't advance even if we were killing the numerous Stone's men and the corrupted Tropas soldiers around.

"Shit, these MGs is blocking us !" Price yelled as we were all in cover, me reloading my MP5 as Park was making some suppressing fire towards the MG blocking the front door.

"We're not going to pass with them." I exclaimed before suddenly, I heard an loud gunshot and I peak my head to find out that the user of the mounted MGs on the right window that was shooting at everything on us fall back, hit by an sniper rifle but it wasn't finished as seconds later, it was the left one that was out and then, the one keeping the entrance was hit too. "Who did this ?" I asked, looking at the church tower.

"That was Smirnov, miss." Soap replied through my radio, we were all equipped with radio but Price was the only one that could contact the other team as for us, we were only able to make contact with those on our side.

"Damn, nice shots, Zasha, seems that my training was worth it." I said proudly, firying some bullets towards the few remaining Tropas soldiers still trying to shoot at us.

"Thanks, Yirina, means an lot." They told me on the radio, sounding good.

"Okay, this was the last one of them, we're going to enter the hotel." Price got out of his cover as I was doing the same with Park, aiming our guns towards the entrance. "Part of the team is securing the surroundings. Soap, Smirnov, you're making sure to keep an eye on the roof." He added as we were getting closer to the entrance.

"Yirina, take the lead, I'm behind you." Park suggested and I nodded to her as I start to move on the front, entering the hotel first and by the odds, the entrance wasn't watched by anyone and the gunshots were still audible all around the hotel but then, I heard an explosion and when I look on the ceilling just on top of me, I could see it crack. "Yirina !" Park yelled as I was realizing that the ceilling was going to fall on me and I quickly jumped away before an part of the ceilling fall down and landed right in front of the door, blocking it....I was the only one who got inside. "Shit, Yirina, you're alright ?" She asked on my radio.

"Yes, I'm good." I answered, going up on my feets as I was looking at the debris that was blocking the entrance. "Stone has trapped the place down, I should get move."

"No, it's too risky." Park protested, worried about having me alone in that hotel. "Wait for us."

"I can't, Park." I defended myself, looking around to find an way to get inside the hotel more further to find Stone. "Since Stone's men are fighting the other team, it's going to be good." I breathed, taking my MP5 back on the ground. "I will find Stone, try to find another entrance with Price."

"Okay....okay...take care." Park whispered on my radio before it went off, leaving me alone inside that hotel as they were going to find another way in.

Without wasting any more moments, I decided to move on, taking the same path I used with Park & Lazar years ago as it was the only one available for me with some things that changed over the years, starting that there were no one that tried to greet me with bullets, not even Stone himself but as I was arriving near an closed door, it was suddenly force opened by an masked man, more looking like an Perseus soldier that was charging me.

I managed to avoid him quickly, putting myself aside before I decide to attempt to kick him with my feet until he succeed in grabbing my leg but this was my plan all along as I make him believe that he was controlling me. He did make me go on the ground not before I was able to put my legs between his arms that did take my leg and taking him with me. Then, once the two of us were on the ground, I hit with my right feet on his head, breaking his neck and killing him.

But before I could got up again, an soldier....this time, an Tropas one was arriving in the room and as he was going to shoot me dead, he was the one who fall down first, having been shot by someone else in the room....but when I looked around, it was only me here alive and no one else...until I looked next to me at my right....seeing Lazar himself....in the same outfit the day he died...

"You're looking like shit." He said to me as he was offering his hand to me....it was an vision and it was so strange....my struggle inside of me is making me hallucinate "Come on, Yirina, take my hand." He added before I resign myself, getting up by that vision, still shocked and confused about it to say, speechless.

"Laz' ?" I breathed, thinking that he was there alive, well with me...

"Do not let yourself down, you got this...do this for me...for Park." He exclaimed before he suddenly vanish from my sight....and the Tropas soldier body too, he wasn't real too, it was just me and that Perseus soldier in that room. I was so stunned by that....having an vision of Lazar here....shit.

"Yirina ?" I could heard Zasha's voice through the radio, breaking me of my thoughts.

"Yea...yes, I'm here !" I regained consciouness of the situation, taking my radio quickly, looking at the door that was broken.

"We've got eyes on Stone, he's on the roof !" They told me as I remember that this room was just next to some staircase that was probably leading to the roof. "Do we take the shot ?" They asked me.

"No, you don't....it's Park who is going to do this." I replied, recalling the promise that Park express to me an time ago. "Keep an eye on him, don't do anything, I'm trying to go on the roof." I said before I got my radio off, taking back my MP5 that was on the ground again before I walk away with great attention.

Like I remembered, there were just an staircase that was going up and to gain time instead of walking throught all of the ground floor, I decided to take them and to go up, trying to get to the roof but unfortunately, the door leading to the roof was blocked by things that I couldn't move by myself without making an big noise, meaning that I will have to find another way to get on top and crossing the last floor entirely.

Thanks to the other team making an lot of noises outside, there were only an few men that were standing in my way to get to the roof, killing them discreetly or if I wasn't able too, making sure that they weren't going to tell that I was here and finally, I found an way to get on the roof, the same way we used to run to the roof. It was during that walk that I could see the fight between the SAS and Stone's men and the SAS were gaining the advantage, seeing Garrett from afar as he was executing an soldier on the ground.

Since the SAS were advancing, I preferred to get along and to go to the roof....until I realized that I did arrived at the same place where I saw Lazar for the last time. By seeing it again, I found myself to have an vision of that day, seeing myself, Park & Lazar on the ground but then, something hit me by behind on my back, making me fall on my fours, still alive as I could see the feets of someone coming in front of me

"Fucking hell, is that Grigoriev herself ?" That voice, it was Stone himself, having seen me arrive or was awaiting for someone else. I looked up to see that he wasn't wearing an hood, seeing the man like in my first memory I had of him, holding an pipe before he hit me in the chest with his feets, putting myself on the ground. "That's for fucking with me !"

"Harry Stone !" I whispered, looking at him in the eyes, with him that got an smile on his face.

"Who do you think it was, you stupid bitch ?" He said, mixed between anger and happiness to see me like this. "Maybe that Freya is going to kill me but damn, I really want to kill you !"

"Fuck you, Stone." I scoffed before he decide to kick me right in the face, causing some blood to get out of my mouth, feeling the taste of it inside.

"Stubborn to the end, Grigoriev !" He then threw away his pipe to take out an pistol in his hand. "Let me get you up." He moved to get me up in an hard way, making sure that I was going to suffer enough, putting his pistol cannon right behind my neck. "You're not going to need this." He told me as he was removing my bulletproof vest that was covering my jacket before he got me at gunpoint, standing up to face the way the only way usable to get here.

"Yirina !" I was able to hear Park's voice coming near and not through my radio.

"Oh, let the show begin." Stone whispered to himself, holding me still with his gun before Park arrived with Price, some blood on their clothes...wasn't theirs, I believed.

"Stone !" Price was the one who saw me & Stone here, aiming his MP5 towards him.

"You son of an bitch, let her go !" Park ordered furiously, her MP5 aiming Stone's head but she couldn't take the shot, fearing that Stone will have time to retribute against me.

"Of course, I will...your majesty !" Stone joked around until Stone put his hands in front of my eyes and then, I could hear some struggle coming from Park and then, Stone removed his hands, allowing me to see Park also hold at gunpoint by someone else as Price was the only one with an gun in hand. He didn't want to prevent Park from this. "Drop the gun, Price, you're alone !"

"In your dreams, Harry." Price refused, mixed between looking at me & Stone and Park. "You know it's the end for you."

"Maybe....maybe not." Stone told him, getting his pistol cannon right aimed at my front right shoulder. "By god, I just realized....Park & Grigoriev working together....what the odds !"

"What are you talking about, Stone ?" Park demanded, trying to free herself from the man that was holding her.

"Oh....she didn't tell you ?" He started, moving his gun slowly on my shoulder. "Oh yeah, that's right, the CIA fucked up her brain and hearing Freya say that she can come back home....she wasn't able to tell you." He added, his head looking to Park.

"What...." I breathed, trying to understand what Stone was saying.

"You didn't remember London, Grigoriev ?" He asked me as I was confused as hell about it. "You didn't remember....what happened that day in 1973 ?" He continued as Park's eyes with me & Price goes wide, slowly realizing his words.

"Are you meaning....? What are you saying, Stone ?" Price questioned.

"I mean that....Grigoriev was there that day....yes....Grigoriev was there the day I killed your brother, Park." He started to laugh as for me, I was feeling so....weak and alone now....I was realizing that....this burn mark on my left hand, I got it in 1973....in London, during the death of Park's brother....no..."Oh, I could remember that she did tipped off William about me and honestly, seeing her running to save your brother....it was an perfect occasion to kill her too." He added, saying that I was the one who was trying to give Park's brother intels about Stone's true allegiances, like Price told me the day I met him. "Unfortunately, she lived."

"No...." I whispered in an very low voice that only myself could hear. By that horrible revelation, I couldn't look at Park in the eyes, fearing that she was hating me now....but no.....I don't want to think of it.

"You know what it would be marked on your grave, Grigoriev ?" He demanded to me as Park & Price were looking at us, stunned and me....shocked and ready to cry out loudly. "It will be saying : Was always there at the wrong time, at the wrong place !" He stated....In me, I just wanted to get free...to get away without any pain by realizing that me & Park were linked by an the death of her brother....until I got an idea.

"No.." I said this time loudly, starting to move my hands. "How about Yippee-Ki-Yay, motherfucker!" I then moved my hands fully to get them on his pistol but I wasn't going to try to move it away from me. I got my fingers on the trigger and then....I shot two times through my shoulder, knowing that his chest was just behind it and that the second bullet was going to hit him.

And it did, the second bullet make him move away from me as I was falling on my knees, feeling weak again, seeing with narrowed eyes, Park managing to get free from the man that was holding her until Price emptied his mag on this man. Feeling the blood in mouth and shooting myself two times in the shoulder, it wasn't going to make me feel better and then, I fell on my back, looking at the dark skies of Cuba as I could see Park & Price quickly walking towards me but I wasn't willing to smile anymore even at Park's sight until I grinned an little and I closed my eyes, trying to think about her positively, hearing her voice.....

"Don't worry, Yiri....it's going to be okay....you will be safe with me !"

#cod bocw #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #call of duty cold war #cod #call of duty #cod bell #black ops cold war #yirina grigoriev #helen park #fem!bell #zasha smirnov

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