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lexosaurus · 4 years ago

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Invisobang: Morge pt 2

It was a beautiful day outside. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming...a corpse was found in the woods.

Or, Amity Park's local cadaver dog trainer was walking her dog in the woods when they discovered a little surprise waiting for them six feet under.

Pairings: none WC: 9886 read on: [ao3] part 2 of 2, read: [part 1]

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some amazing accompanying art by @ghostkiin

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“It’s like you’re not even trying!” Plasmius barked, throwing Danny an exaggerated yawn while blocking the ectoblasts thrown his way. “Really, Daniel, you were always woefully incapable compared to me, but this is just abysmal, even for you.”

Danny gritted his teeth and glared back, allowing his glowing eyes to glare to toxic levels. Plasmius picked the wrong week to try to steal blueprints from Fentonworks.

“What, are you going to hit me with a little ectoblast again?”

“Oh I’ll show you an ectoblast,” Danny growled, charging ectoplasm in his palms so concentrated that the green glowed a fierce white. He flung his hands out, releasing the energy with a venomous, “eat shit, Fruitloop!”

But just like the rest of his life, his attack was uncontrolled, wild. It flew several feet to Vlad’s side, nailing a road sign and burning it like acid until there was nothing left.

Plasmius grinned at its charred remains. “Was that supposed to hit me? My, Daniel, I’m quaking in my boots!”

Danny felt his aura increase.

This week had already been shitty enough, even without Vlad’s help. He felt like his brain was trapped in a hailstorm, with constant unavoidable attacks pelting him from all sides. His core was a ball of energy and anxiety, not allowing him to sleep or eat or even breathe without the constant fear about his body and how it was being messed with and he needed to protect it and how he’d failed so miserably at protecting it and now his secret was going to be revealed and he was screwed.

“Well? I’m waiting! Tick tock, Little Badger!”

Ancients, Vlad was such an asshole.

“Shut UP!” Danny yelled, releasing his ghostly wail.

Just as a pink blast slapped him across the face, sending him flying into a brick building.

Plasmius tisked, flying nonchalantly towards him. “We can’t have you using that particular power, now can we? Not while you’re so obviously in control of yourself.”

“Fuck off.”

The older ghost smirked and brushed dust off his red and white cape. “Teenagers. Always so hormonal. What, did a girl at school reject you?”

“What are you talking about?” Danny launched himself back in the air and powered an ice blast. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t care what you have to say.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t,” Vlad said, releasing a plasmius blast just before Danny released his own. The pink blast travelled across the air like a bullet, punching Danny in the gut and sending him crashing back into the building.

Meanwhile, Danny’s ice blast flew a foot above Vlad’s head, webbing itself into a tree and coating the branches with thick icicles.

Danny tried to push himself back onto his shaky feet, only to be pushed back down yet again by another plasmius blast.

Brick tumbled onto his head, coating his vision with dust. His body ached, and his neck was sore from the whiplash.

From his clouded vision, a glowing white figure with red eyes and gaudy horn-like spikes for hair hovered closer to him.

“My, my. You really are out of sorts today,” Plasmius said. “This is almost too easy. I could just take you out right here and go take your parents’ entire spectre speeder straight from your lab.

“What do you even need a spectre speeder for? You can fly,” Danny asked, rubbing a lump from his skull.

“A simple minded teenager such as yourself couldn’t possibly understand my reasons.”

Anger flared through Danny. He gripped some wreckage next to him and forced himself back onto his feet. His legs shook and he felt something wet drip down his calf.

Great, he was bleeding. Just add that to the list of reasons as to why this week was the worst.

“Shut up. I won’t let you do that.”

“Oh?” Plasmius powered a pink blast in each hand. “Then prove it.”

Danny tried, but with each attempted blast, kick, or punch, it seemed like Plasmius was one step ahead of him.

And worse, it felt like he was reveling in the power trip.

A burn here, a kick there—everywhere Danny looked, there was Vlad, glowing fist at the ready. It reminded him of the first time he’d encountered Vlad, back at the mansion. Having Vlad so openly destroy him had been shameful.

Danny collapsed onto the pavement, heaving, his entire body searing in pain.

Plasmius paused to survey him up and down with suspicious eyes. Finally, just as Danny was one breath away from turning invisible out of sheer discomfort, did the ghost finally open his mouth. “Alright, spit it out.”

Anxiety gripped Danny’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“Something’s troubling you enough to make you pathetically weak. It’s honestly embarrassing. I can’t stand here watching my future ward make a fool of himself any longer.”

“I’m not moving in with you, creep,” Danny bit back.

“That’s what you think. No matter, tell your dear old uncle what’s troubling you.”

“Go play in traffic.”

Plasmius’ eyes narrowed. “I’d nearly forgotten what a brat you are. Now tell me before I take methods into my own hands.”

Danny sighed, and attempted to stand. But the moment his foot touched the ground, a sharp pain shot up his shin. He hissed, and lowered himself back to the pavement.

“Well? I don’t have all day.”

“It’s nothing,” Danny grumbled, glaring at the pavement. He felt small under Plasmius’ critical gaze. “Nothing at all.”

“It’s obviously something,” Plasmius said, landing in front of Danny. “Now quit wasting my time and tell me what it is before I—”

“Then why don’t you leave? If I’m just wasting your precious time, then go home! It’s not like you even care about me anyways.”

Vlad leaned in, flaring his aura. “In case it’s not clear to your simple teenage brain, your actions represent the both of us. You fuck up, I have to pay the consequences.”

“Who says this is even about ghost stuff?” Danny hissed. “For all you know, I got in a fight with Jazz.”

Vlad scoffed. “Do you seriously believe me to be that stupid? Of course it’s about your identity! Why else would your core be acting so wildly if its Obsession weren’t at stake?”

Danny flinched.

“You did something, and I want to know what it is so I can determine if I need to run damage control on you or not before you blow this for all of us.”

“It’s...” Danny felt his aura pull back. “It’s about...you know…”

“I can assure you I do not know.”

“I...I might have…the police may have found...it…’

Plasmius sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. “What did they find?”

“My—my, uh...body?”

“You mean your identity?” Plasmius’ eyes widened.

“Not exactly.” Danny felt his face burn. “You know...the body I left when I...after the accident.”

Plasmius reacted instantly. He shot up, glancing around, before grabbing Danny and pulling him through a hastily erected portal.

Danny felt his body squeeze through the portal and then seconds later, he was in Vlad’s study. The ghost threw Danny on his loveseat and heightened his aura. His brows creased, and his eyes glowed a dangerous shade of red. “What exactly do you mean when you say the police found your deceased body? How did this happen? What the hell did you do?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Danny cried indignantly. “They found it with their freakish police dog! I swear I buried it deep in the ground.”

“Well not deep enough, apparently!” Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Of all the stupid, childish things you could do!”

“It wasn’t my fault!”

Vlad ripped his hands away from his face, his eyes snapping back to Danny. He took a step closer to the teen, his eyes narrowing until a red glow peaked underneath. “Then whose fault would it be exactly, hmm? What, is this yet another piece of blame you’re going to cast upon my shoulders? Me, the halfa who has managed to keep this a well kept secret for over twenty years when you apparently can’t even manage to keep it to yourself for one?”

Danny let his own ghostly strength shine through his eyes. “Quit acting like I invited them all over. I didn’t, it was a coincidence. A mistake.”

“Oh, goodness me!” Vlad let out a sardonic laugh. “I guess when the Ghost Investigative Ward appear at my doorstep in a month, I’ll just tell them it was all a mistake. That’s sure to turn them right around!”

“Shut up.”

“No I will not.” Vlad’s face set back into a scowl. “You have proven yourself to be a liability again and again, and every single time it’s me who has to clean up your little messes. Messes that you don’t seem to realize could be the end of our kind!”

Anxiety shot through Danny’s stomach. He gripped the arm rests of the chair, squeezing them so tightly he heard the faint sounds of cracking in the wood.

“And now you mean to tell me that the police have your rotting, ectoplasm-drenched inhuman corpse in their possession?” Vlad yelled. “And you’re really trying to argue with me that it was just a simple mistake?”

Danny’s shaking hand slipped, tearing off a chunk of the armchair. It clattering to the floor. “I don’t—I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t…”

Vlad closed his eyes, but Danny could still see the wisps of red shimmering through his eyelids. “No, of course you didn’t. But that doesn’t mean we can let them keep it.”

“I’ve tried.” His voice cracked. “I keep trying to convince them to stop, but they won’t—”

“What, you actually thought they’d listen to you? A ghost? My boy, I know you were dim, but this is truly extraordinary.”

Danny sniffed, keeping his head down. He felt like an egg boiling over, the yolk just one jolt away from breaking.

“No…” Plasmius hummed. “What we need is to take it back by force.”

“We can’t, they have the whole morgue under a shield. We can get in as ghosts, and it’d look too suspicious if we showed up as humans.”

“Unfortunately, you may be right about us appearing as humans. We can’t do that. But,” Plasmius’ tone shifted, “one thing we can do is break the shield.”

Danny froze. He gazed questioningly up at the older ghost, who was facing the window with a renewed sense of determination. “Break the shield? How? We can’t touch it!”

“No, but the shield doesn’t exist on its own. It has to be generated from somewhere, doesn’t it? Do you see? We break the device, we break the shield.”

Danny wasn’t following, and he was sure his face betrayed that much.

“Listen, Little Badger. Ghosts cannot touch the shield or the device, but who says—oh I don’t know—maybe a collapsed ceiling might do the trick? Some torn cables, perhaps? After all, with no energy supply, how could it possibly generate the power necessary to produce a shield?”

Danny felt his eyes widen. Something icy settled in his gut. When he spoke, his voice was hollow. “You want to destroy the building.”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t be so crude, but perhaps a few colleagues of mine might be swayed—”

“No.” Danny stood automatically.

Vlad’s head snapped over to him. “No?”

He could feel Vlad’s confusion, and it blended with his own. Deep down, he knew he needed to stop at nothing to get his body back, but collapsing the building? Putting others in danger?

Putting his remains in danger of ruin?

What if something happened? What if a brick fell on his skull? What if a spike tore his abdomen in half?

No, he couldn’t do it. It wasn’t worth the risk.

This was wrong.

“We can’t,” Danny choked out. “You’ll hurt it.”

“I don’t think you understand, Little Badger,” Vlad hissed, leaning down.

Danny could feel the heat of his red eyes on his skull.

“With the position you’ve put us both in? You don’t get to decide what happens to your corpse now.”

“No, Vlad. I’m serious. You can’t—”

“And so am I.” Plasmius straightened, and his aura tinted to a dangerous pink. “You’ve put us at risk one time too many. Now I’m taking things into my own hands. And no amount of scary eyes is going to sway me.”

In one motion, Vlad ripped open a portal and pushed Danny through. Before he could blink, he was back in the damp alley they’d just been in.

“Good day, Danny Phantom.”

Plasmius shut the portal, and Danny was alone.

---

“Thank you for taking the time to come talk to us about this,” Mark said, opening the conference room door for the consultant before him. “This case is unfortunately a bit out of my expertise, and the lab results are even more perplexing. Hopefully you’ll be able to parse through the documents much easier than I.”

Dr. Maddie Fenton, dressed in her typical turquoise lab attire, stepped through the door and took a seat at the table. “Of course, I’m always happy to help Amity’s law enforcement protect its citizens against ghosts.”

“Well,” Mark pulled out a chair for himself, placing the manila folders against the table. “This is actually a bit more complex.”

“Oh?” Dr. Fenton reached for the folders.

“To bring you up to speed, I mentioned on the phone that we needed your assistance with a murder case involving a ghost. But there’s a bit more to it.”

She opened the folder and leafed through the files.

“The truth is the body we uncovered we believe to be Phantom’s body.”

Dr. Fenton paused, her eyebrows shooting up. She glanced up at Mark. “That’s a rather serious case. What evidence do you have to support that?”

“Well…” Mark started. “When we uncovered the body, Phantom appeared above it, and was acting rather erratically. Like a cornered animal, almost.”

“He felt threatened.”

“Right.” He nodded. “But it’s more than that. When we ran forensics on the body, we found that all our lab results were corrupted with ectoplasm. Ectoplasm that when we ran the ectosignature for, turned out to be Phantom’s.”

Dr. Fenton looked back down at the files. “That’s highly unusual.”

“Well we were hoping you’d be able to piece this all together.” Mark gestured to the files.

“I see…” Dr. Fenton’s voice trailed off. Her eyes scanned the page, hungrily soaking up each word. The silence stretched on for a few minutes as Mark awaited her opinion.

Contacting the Fentons had been something Mark had been pushing off for as long as possible. The Fentons were loud, boisterous, and not at all known for their professionalism nor tact.

But it was either they contact the Fentons or the Ghost Investigation Ward. And despite Phantom’s cold demeanor towards the detectives, Mark still had hope that perhaps he could gain the teen ghost’s trust. And to do that, the GiW could not be anywhere near the station.

Of the duo, Maddie Fenton seemed the most level-headed. And it had just been Mark’s luck that of the pair, she was the one with a doctorate in ectobiology. Which meant that it was perfectly understandable when Mark had requested that she alone come into the station to review the files.

“We’re trying to keep this on the down-low. If Phantom feels like we’re going to turn him over to the government, he’ll clam up. As it stands we’re only barely getting information out of him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t trust anything he says anyway,” she said, not looking up from the paper. “He’ll do whatever possible to keep himself safe. Ghosts are products of their Obsessions, and Phantom is no different. If he feels like this investigation is going to come in the way of him being able to feed into his Obsession, then he’ll do anything to stop that from happening. No matter who he hurts in the process.”

Mark felt a shudder creep up his spine. “Do you think he could be lying about this being his body? Maybe he could have been the one to kill this boy and is trying to cover it up?”

“Hmm…no, that doesn’t seem likely given the labs. And besides, it would be highly unusual for Phantom to be summoned to a body that wasn’t his. Although…” Dr. Fenton mused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this before.”

“Like what?”

“Well, when an animal dies near a cluster of ambient ectoplasm, their body runs the risk of forming a ghost. However, there must be a significant final moment for the neural pathways in the brain to bond with the ectoplasm. That moment translates into an Obsession, which forms the core that the ghost then forms around. If a human dies peacefully, there’s nothing to work with. But if the human dies violently, or if they die with unfinished business, that gives the ambient ectoplasm something to charge with.”

Mark nodded politely, not seeing where this was going. This was all common knowledge for the people of Amity, and Mark had certainly seen enough of the Fentons’ public speeches to understand these basics.

“The ambient ectoplasm comes from the electrical connections in the brain, unrelated to what’s happening in the body. It’s why a human can be paralyzed from the waist-down, but still form a ghost with functioning legs. Do you see what I’m saying?”

Mark nodded, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not seeing how this relates to Phantom specifically?”

“There’s no real reason that Phantom’s human body should have been corrupted by ectoplasm. In fact, there’s never been a case of a human body with an ectosignature embedded in its cells. It’s virtually impossible, in fact. Living cells are completely incompatible with ectoplasm.”

Mark stared down at his own copy of the reports, his mind reeling. “You’ve never seen this before?”

“Not in my twenty years in this field.”

“Do you have any idea what could have caused this?”

Dr. Fenton pursed her lips. “There’s one...it would explain a lot about him actually. Human experimentation.”

Oh.

Shit.

“You don’t think…” Mark’s voice trailed off, his tongue incapable of finishing the sentence. To think that some sick individual would even attempt such a thing.

“It’s the only logical explanation here.” Dr. Fenton gestured at her folder. “Or at least, the only one I can piece together given this information. Phantom would have had to have died after interacting with an intense amount of ecto-technology. Technology with the power to chemically alter every cell in his living body just before finishing him off with electrocution. Of course, it’s just a theory. Only Phantom knows the truth.”

“Right.” He could hardly process what was being said. “But he won’t tell us the truth.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. Ghosts run a different social hierarchy than humans, theirs is far more simple. It’s entirely based on strength. The stronger the ghost, the better they protect their haunt, the more respect they’re given within ghost culture. If Phantom shows weakness, then the other ghosts can use that to dethrone him as the human world’s great protector.”

“But we’re not ghosts.”

“But he is.” Dr. Fenton cocked her head. “This explains other things too. Like the fact that Phantom, a relatively new ghost, is already a level seven on the ectoplasm power scale.”

“I assume that’s unusual.”

“Quite. It would have had to require an extremely intense death at the very least. But human experimentation with ectoplasm, feelling your body reject itself from the inside out, every strand of DNA being corrupted by the essence of death—that’s not an end I’d wish on my worst enemies.”

“And now we have his corpse. Phantom’s going to feel incredibly threatened. He’s bound to lash out.”

Dr. Fenton nodded gravely. “Then you better wrap this investigation up quickly, because Phantom is still a young ghost. He’s impatient, like a child. The longer you take to solve this case, the more unstable he’ll get. And I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end when he finally snaps.”

---

A dull unease panged at Danny’s core. It was calling to him, trying to goad him to his corpse.

Trouble, trouble, trouble, it seemed to whisper.

But he ignored it, just like he’d been ignoring it all this time. Because no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t get past the shields, he couldn’t get back to his corpse.

He was powerless. Alone.

Scared.

He tried to focus on his math worksheet, but the numbers blurred together and he couldn’t remember what eight times seven was. He had a calculator, but it was in his bag and he couldn’t remember what pocket he’d shoved it into, or even if he’d remembered to put it in his bag last night after staring blankly at the homework assignment for an hour without lifting his pencil even once.

No, his calculator was probably still on his desk at home.

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

The voices were louder now, and the pull was more desperate.

His throat hurt, and for a moment he was convinced his lungs were collapsing before he remembered that he’d forgotten to release the air trapped in his lungs and he couldn’t remember when he’d stopped breathing.

“Danny?” Mr. Falluca said from the front of the room. “Is everything alright?”

He commanded his head to nod, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. Maybe he did. He couldn’t check, he couldn’t lift his eyes from the desk.

The voices were too loud.

The dull pang wasn’t so dull anymore.

Trouble, trouble, go now, go now.

The pang was solidifying, taking shape. It was becoming sharper, more urgent.

Go now, go now, go now.

The pokes turned into pricks, threatening to rupture his organs, sending needles down the nerves in his arms and legs. A headache sparked before his eyes and his vision swam.

The voices attacked him from all angles, and fingers brushed against his skin, tugging the sleeves of his shirt towards the window, the ceiling, the wall, the door— anywhere so long as it was away from here. Outside. To the morgue.

Go to the morgue.

Ignore it, be strong. Just ignore it and it’ll go away.

Go now.

No.

Go now, go now, GO NOW.

No, he couldn’t.

The pinpricks finally morphed into one sharp, icy cold knife.

It stabbed his core.

Go now.

He stood from his chair, knocking it back.

Vaguely, he could hear the alarmed cries of his classmates, but he ignored them.

The only thing that mattered was his body. His corpse.

Protect.

A hand grabbed his arm, yanking him back, but he could feel the warmth of the human blood running under its veins and he couldn’t be bothered with human problems right now. Not when he was in danger.

He phased through the grip, and ran out of the classroom. He sprinted down the hall, tearing open the familiar looking door and transforming and taking off into the sky nearly as soon as the sun brushed his skin.

This was different than all the other times his core had tried to coax him to his corpse. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong. His body was in danger, and he needed to save it.

He heard an explosion in the distance, and he increased his speed, feeling his eyes sting as the cool air slapped against his corneas. The world blurred, but it was okay. His core was guiding him now, not his eyes. He didn’t need to see, he just needed to close off and follow his ghostly instincts.

“That’s right!” A deep voice yelled from across the way.

Danny pulled to a halt, blinking the sting from his vision.

Then a boulder flew past his body, hitting the wall of a disturbingly familiar building.

His core yelled in protest. The body was in danger. His body.

“You thought a pesky shield could keep me out? Me, Skulker, the Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter? I’ll show you!”

Ice filled his veins, freezing his aura and building in power around his hands.

Skulker hoisted a parked motorcycle from the edge of the street into the air. “Take this!” he yelled, hurling it into the air.

It was heading straight for the door. It was going to break it, it might break the window, it could damage the body.

An icicle stabbed his core, and before Danny could blink, his hands were raised and jagged blue ice was shooting from his palms, catching the motorcycle in midair and pinning it to the street.

“What is the meaning of this?” Skulker roared, whipping around. His eyes locked on Danny and his confusion melted from this face only to be replaced by a triumphant smirk. “Well hello there, ghost child.”

Danny’s palms burned an even brighter blue. “ Leave,” he hissed, the Ghost Speak slipping off his tongue like butter.

Skulker’s grin widened. “It seems I’ve touched a nerve. Fear not, child, I’m just here to procure your pelt. Well, your other pelt.”

He flashed his aura in a showcase of power that would send most ghosts running for the hills. “Leave.”

A look of contempt replaced the humor on Skulker’s face. His eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered. “I don’t take orders from you, child.”

There was a natural balancing act between his human brain and ghost core, one that ensured that neither half of him was in full control one hundred percent of the time. No matter how human he was, his core still lingered in the background, and no matter how ghost he was, his human brain still kept tabs on his movements.

But now, as Danny watched Skulker rip a slab of concrete from the ground, he felt something snap inside of him.

“Then I have no choice.”

Green overtook his vision, and Danny Fenton simply disappeared.

Time passed—or it didn’t—in swirls of blue and green. If he looked out, he could see the power released from his gloves, he could see the mix of ectoplasm and ice that he was hurling at Skulker, to protect the building, to protect his body, to protect himself from Plasmius.

That vindictive, lonely asshole.

Who was Plasmius to encroach on what was his?

There were flashing lights around him, but Danny paid them no mind. The only thing that mattered was protecting his body.

Protect his haunt.

Protect his people.

Protect.

He could feel the newly pointed teeth pinch his gums, and the ghostly wisps of his hair fizzle around him. But oddly these changes didn’t worry him, instead they made him feel safe, secure. Like a child clinging onto their blanket.

He launched another barrage of attacks at Skulker, tearing holes through his armor. Panic struck Skulker’s features, and all Danny could think of was, ‘good.’ If Skulker wanted to try to claim dominance over his body, then he would suffer tenfold.

And just before he was about to launch a blast at Skulker that was sure to disintegrate his armor, an amplified voice behind him called out, “PHANTOM!”

Danny flinched, his power leaking out of its concentrated ball.

Weak.

“Phantom, stand down!”

Not a chance.

“We have the area surrounded. Stand down or we’ll be forced to shoot.”

“Better listen to your human puppets,” Skulker said, his voice too shaken to sound mocking. “I know when I’ve been bested.”

It took everything in Danny’s power to not launch himself over to Skulker and tear off his head. “You tried to steal my body.”

“That’s a fight between you and Plasmius.”

“Don’t try to get out of this.”

“Phantom,” Detective Johnson said. “Final warning. Stand down.”

Ectoplasm surged throughout his body. “Make me.”

Multiple events happened at once. Skulker motioned to leave just as Danny raised his arms, blistering white light moments away from release. Then, pain seared through his torso.

Danny yelped, jerking his hand back and releasing the ectoblast somewhere off into the sky. He fell back and hit the ecto-shield, sending electrical warnings through his bones.

Memories of the portal, of the thousands of volts of electricity, of the feeling of his bones and muscles and tissues and cells being ripped apart and stitched back together flashed before his eyes. It was too much, all too much too soon too present. He tried blasting the portal but his gloves were splattered with green and oh no, not good, not good.

He was dying, wasn’t he?

Again.

Would he have a second body?

His vision tilted, and finally he managed to rip himself away from the shield. He collapsed onto the cement and stared up at the sky, chest heaving.

He was paralyzed. He knew he had fingers, toes, arms, legs—but they didn’t work. He couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t fly.

He was dying.

“Phantom?” Johnson’s cautious voice sounded from somewhere off to the side. “Sit up, let’s talk through this.”

There was a pregnant pause, and then Danny finally managed to blink. The world snapped back into focus, and his surroundings came with it. He looked down at his torso to see a little hole in his side of his suit surrounded by a trickle of green.

“What—?” Danny gasped.

“I’m gonna put the gun down, okay?” Johnson said. “I just wanna talk.”

“No.” Danny slowly pushed himself up. He surveyed the damage along the walls, the falling bricks on the sidewalk, the shattered windows and bent door. “No, no, no.”

His body wasn’t safe. Not anymore.

“Phantom, come on. Work with me here.”

But he couldn’t. That detective and his partner were just human, they didn’t understand. This was his body and Vlad knew about it and was trying to take matters into his own hands no matter the cost to Danny.

This was a disaster. He shouldn’t have told Vlad anything. He was so stupid for thinking Vlad could help him. He should have known, should have known.

“Phantom.”

“No.”

The cloak of invisibility covered his body, and he shot up into the sky.

Towards the city.

He needed to end this.

---

Sarah felt the chill first.

“You have to stop,” Phantom’s voice echoed behind her.

She sighed and put down her pencil. “Phantom, I thought I explained this already. The police can’t—”

“I don’t care about the police!”

The room grew cold.

“I don’t...ugh!” Phantom floated around her desk, clutching his forehead with one hand and his chest with the other. Mark had just called her with a warning, saying that Phantom was unstable. Looking at the ghost now, Sarah had to agree.

Phantom looked awful.

Dark circles pooled under his eyes, his hair stuck up in all directions, and his face lacked the green blush that normally sat below his skin. His jumpsuit was burned and dried ectoplasm crusted around the torn edges. He looked every bit the image of someone quickly coming undone.

Except this wasn’t just some random person, this was a powerful ghost. This was someone who could easily kill anyone who wronged him.

Or who he felt wronged him.

Deep down, Sarah knew Phantom wasn’t a violent ghost. It didn’t line up with his ghostly Obsession, or the theorized one anyway. But this was his corpse they were dealing with, it was an extension of himself.

Sarah had never confronted a ghost who had lost possession of their corpse. She’d never dealt with a ghost who willingly protected the shield that kept him away from his body if only to make sure it stayed safe. She’d never seen Phantom look so rattled.

At this point, there was no telling what he was capable of.

“Phantom,” she tried cautiously. “You need to calm down.”

“No, you need to tell your buddies to call off this investigation!”

“You know I can’t do that. I have no control over the department, and even if I did, we need to follow the law.”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Why, because I’m a ghost? Because my words mean nothing because I’m not human? I’m telling you that I don’t want to press any charges, I don’t get why that’s not good enough!”

The room grew even colder.

“We’ve been over this. Please, Phantom, sit down—”

“No!” he snapped. “I’ve been telling you guys since the beginning that this was a bad idea, that people are going to get hurt! And no, nobody listened to me because I’m a fucking ghost! And now look, the building was attacked! My body was attacked! Do you—” his voice cracked, and the glow on his eyes wobbled. He drifted closer to her. “Do you even understand? Do you get how dangerous this is? Do you understand the people you guys have pissed off? Who you’re playing with now?”

Sarah took a deep breath. Even as a human, the power Phantom was emitting was palpable. “What people? You mean the ghost who attacked the morgue?”

“Not him. He—he’s just a lacky. Just following orders.” He let out a bitter laugh, running his hand over his forehead and smearing green across his skin. “You guys have no idea, you really don’t…”

Dread crept up Sarah’s spine. If what Mark was saying was true, then this could run deeper than they thought. “Explain it to me.”

“I’m…” He glanced up, looking ill. “I’m not…normal. For a ghost, I mean. I can’t explain it. I really can’t. But the other ghosts...they consider me a liability. And now that you guys have my—my body, they’re afraid.”

“Why are they afraid?”

“Because…” His brow furrowed. “I can’t—I can’t…”

She tilted her head, watching the ghost choke on his words. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll stop at nothing till they get my body back. They’ll kill everyone in that building if it means nobody finds out my secret.”

What secret? Sarah wanted to scream, but she held back.

“Phantom,” Sarah lowered her tone. “Are they the reason you’ve been so afraid of us finding out the truth? Have they threatened you in any way?”

“No!” He backed up in shock. “I—I mean, sort of? Listen, it’s not because of him—them, I promise. It’s more complicated than that. He’s just protecting me, you know? If my secret gets out, that would put them all in danger, but it would put me in even more danger. I wouldn’t...I’d have to leave. I’d be on the run.”

“Why?”

“It’s so messed up.”

“Then tell me.”

She already knew. She just needed him to confirm it for her.

He looked to her, his bright green eyes seemingly desperate for help. But he shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

“Wait—”

But he was already gone.

---

“I’ve never seen him look so scared,” Abrams said.

“So you think he’s right.” Crowley took a long swig of his coffee, “Course you do.”

“It makes sense,” Abrams insisted. “Why else would Phantom be so terrified of people finding the truth?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know, maybe it’s because he’s a teen who was playing with electrical equipment he wasn’t supposed to be near and even in death doesn’t want to get in trouble for it!”

“Yes but how would that explain all the ectoplasm in his DNA? That doesn’t come from just any electric shock.”

“Who knows,” Crowley said. “The Fentons have always been crackpots. Always have had ludicrous theories. Now suddenly when it’s convenient, you’re all running to their side?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “We’re not running to their side.”

“Then what do you call this?” Crowley gestured to the duo. “Sure looks like it to me.”

“You have to admit that it makes sense,” Mark said. “I mean, get real. Doesn’t any of this smell fishy to you?”

Crowley slapped his empty coffee mug on the table. “You know what smells fishy to me? The Fentons are the only known ecto-scientists in this whole damn city, the only people who have lab-grade ecto-equipment in Amity Park, and suddenly right when they were getting into some financial trouble, Phantom appears out of nowhere from a death that reeks of forced ecto-contamination. That smells fishy to me.”

Mark paused, but then shook his head. “If that were true, then why would Dr. Fenton even offer human experimentation as a possibility?”

“To gloat? Gain our trust? Test our intelligence?” Crowley threw his hands up. “Who knows? They’re crazy!”

“So you think we need to investigate them?” Mark asked.

“I’d be a damn shit detective if I didn’t. They have the means and motive to create a ghost like Phantom. It’s just like Maddie said.”

“I think he’s right,” Abrams said, nibbling on her bagel. “If this is actually a case of ecto-experimentation, then the Fentons should be on the list of suspects.”

“Finally, some common sense around here. Just about the only case of common sense these days…” Crowley grumbled.

Mark chose to ignore that comment, instead checking his phone. No notifications, damn. The entire department had been on high alert for Phantom ever since the attack on the morgue. Mark was just relieved that the new and improved ecto-guns had finally been issued that morning. If not for the updated technology, that incident likely would have ended far less smoothly.

Not that it really ended smoothly. Phantom had yet again escaped Mark’s clutches, free to run off and break into Sarah’s home.

Guilt clawed at Mark’s stomach, but he pushed it back. Phantom was a slippery ghost, one that had escaped all levels of ghost hunters from the Fentons, to the Ghost Investigation Ward. Mark knew it would take a lot more than a few words of peace and one ecto-gun to stop that kind of raw power.

“What do we even know about the Fentons?” Abrams asked.

“They’re ghost hunters and mostly make weapons now, but before that they dabbled in all sorts of ecto-based technology. The husband, Jack, is the engineer and the wife, Maddie, is the biologist. They have two kids, Jasmine and Daniel. Jasmine, or ‘Jazz’ is supposedly top of her class, likely to graduate valedictorian, while Daniel’s something else. Bad grades, skips class, all around a bit of a loner,” Crowley said, regurgitating information like he was reading a case file.

Mark glanced at his colleague, giving him an impressed smirk. “Did your homework early, eh?”

“I told you, something aint right here,” Crowley said.

“And? What do you think?” Mark asked.

“What I think is that I’m shocked their house is even coded to have a lab inside. I’d like to know whose ass they kissed to give them that permit.”

Abrams snorted. “Jesus, Jacob.”

“What? I’m right!”

“Fine, whatever,” Mark stood, collecting his empty coffee cup and paper plate. “I godda head home, my sister’s visiting this weekend.”

“Alright, tell Susan I said hello. And say hi to her little demon child too.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “She’s four.”

“What, four year olds can’t be demons? I should know, I had two of them.”

Abrams swiped her empty wrapper and tossed it in the trash. “Yeah, I have to feed Atlas. I’ll see you both next week.”

“Take care!”

---

“Well at least we know Phantom didn’t change anything about his facial structure when he became a ghost.” Crowley’s small eyes swiveled between the photo of Phantom in one hand and the new sketch rendition of his human identity.

Mark grunted and stared at his own copy of the photo.

The corpse had been too decomposed to be able to distinguish a face, and ghosts often change their appearance in death. Sure, Phantom looked like a regular human, but it was impossible to know that for a fact.

Fortunately, modern research and re-composition was advanced enough that they didn’t have to wonder for long. Especially with this being such a high-profile case for the city.

And as it turned out, aside from the hair, Phantom really didn’t look all too different when he was alive. He had the same sharp nose, the same angular chin, the same boyish face. The only thing that was different was his hair and presumably his eye color, although that was still a mystery due to the corrupted DNA.

Even though there was little change to Phantom’s appearance, seeing the black haired, brown eyed human boy staring back at Mark was rather shocking, if he were being honest. There was something off putting about seeing this enigma quite literally brought back to life. It took away that edge of lore that the heroic town enigma had.

Now Phantom wasn’t some wild mystery. He was just...a kid.

“This really is something,” Crowley said. “Guess we should put it to good use.”

Mark sighed, turning his attention back to his desktop. Sifting through missing person’s reports was never exactly a fun way to start the morning.

“You think you can handle it, rookie?” Crowley asked.

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting.”

Crowley let the photographs drop to his side. “Alright, I’m going to continue doing some digging on our suspects.”

“Good luck.”

“And you.”

The work was tedious and depressing. Face after face of missing minors flickered across his screen. It was almost too hard to believe that Phantom was a part of this list.

Caucasian. Black hair. Eye color unknown. Five foot five.

That was all they had on Phantom. For all they knew, he could have been from another city entirely.

But hopefully Mark would find a hit, at least one kid from Amity who fit the profile.

And in fact, there were a few...sort of. Four teens who had black hair and were about five foot five. But none of them looked quite like Phantom.

Which meant Mark had to widen his search.

How wonderful.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out wide. It was nearly lunchtime now and he felt like he’d gotten no further than where he was before. Mark stood from his chair, feeling a bit defeated. Hopefully Crowley would’ve had better luck on the suspect list than Mark.

He strolled over to Crowley’s desk, only to find the desk empty. Crowley had likely already left for lunch, the bastard hadn’t even bothered to grab Mark on the way.

Not that Mark could really blame him. He doubted Crowley wanted to use his lunch break to talk about the case after the tedious research they both had spent their mornings doing.

Mark dug his phone out of his pocket, intent on sending the older detective an update, when he stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, a familiar face stared up at him.

Mark slowly lowered the device and crept toward the desk, as if his mere presence would disintegrate the paper on his desk.

Inside Fentonworks: the Fenton family’s home-grown anti-ghost business!

It was an article printed from some online magazine that Mark didn’t recognize. Slapped on the cover of the page, just under the title, was a photo of a family of four beaming, waving at the camera. One of the members was a young boy—about Phantom’s age—with black hair in almost the same haircut as Phantom, with that crooked smile that Phantom had been caught adorning all too many times.

Waving at the camera.

Skinny, short for a boy, son to two ecto-science parents who fill their basement with dangerous high-voltage and easily combustible ecto-technology.

His name was listed as Daniel.

Mark glanced at the two images in his hand, and then looked at the article below him.

Holy shit.

No. There was no way. Crowley had been suspicious of them, and he had good reason to include them on his suspect list, but this kid was alive. He wasn’t missing, he wasn’t dead, he was standing right there.

It just wasn’t possible.

His apple watch pinged, alerting him of a ghost attack nearby.

Mark hurried back to his desk, swiping his coat off his chair.

This was impossible.

The police sketch and the copy of the article pressed against his fist.

Phantom was a ghost. Ghosts will do anything to protect themselves. They would lie, cheat, and manipulate humans in order to stay on top.

Mark was just seeing things.

There was no way that this was him.

He beelined for the door, tucking the papers into his pants pocket.

It wasn’t possible.

The drive there was short, and the fight even shorter. It had just been the Box Ghost, so nothing that Phantom couldn’t handle. The ghost gave his little song and dance, captured the ghost, and waved brightly to the crowd. But Mark could see right through it, right past all the cracks in his façade.

Phantom was losing it.

And Mark could end this.

“Phantom!” Mark called out through his cupped hands.

The ghost flinched, his cheery face replaced with a scowl instantly.

“Another time,” he said.

But Mark didn’t have another time. He needed to know now.

Because Phantom could end this insane proposition. He could laugh heartlessly at the mere mention that he was this random living child. He was Phantom, protector of Amity Park, not some human experiment.

Not some impossibility.

Not some kid who’s been dead for a year and only pretending to be human for his family.

Not the greatest act of manipulation from a ghost that Mark had ever seen.

Mark yanked the papers from his pocket and unfolded them with shaking fingers. He held them up hastily, knowing that they were too far away for normal human eyes.

But this was Phantom. He wasn’t human.

Mark saw the exact moment that Phantom recognized the photos. The ghost’s eyes widened, his face paled, his aura dimmed. Then, in the blink of an eye, the ghost vanished.

Mark was right.

---

The air was thick, tense. Phantom slumped in his armchair, his body the equivalent of a white flag. Even so, his eyes were bright, charged with nervous energy.

He was terrified.

Atlas must have sensed this, because the dog had decided to break away from being Sarah’s shadow to lay against the ghost’s feet.

“I don’t know where to start,” Phantom admitted after a few tense beats of silence.

“The beginning, maybe,” Jacob said.

Phantom looked sick at the suggestion, but relented. “You’re right. Yeah...I…” he glanced up at the two detectives and Sarah seated across the coffee table on her dull green couch. Phantom had appeared in her kitchen not even an hour ago, looking like he’d just seen the personification of death itself.

And instantly, Sarah knew.

She’d tried to coax him to let her bring him to the station so he could come clean there, but he refused. He said the information was too sensitive and he didn’t trust the station to not have cameras recording every angle of every room.

And so they settled on her living room instead. Mark and Jacob arrived, seeming none too surprised by the arrangement, and more than willing to follow Phantom’s direction if it meant they would finally get the truth.

Which Phantom didn’t seem remotely ready to give.

“I guess…” He tried again, closing his eyes. There was another tense moment of silence before a pair of white rings appeared around Phantom’s waist, traveling up his body and leaving behind a skinny black haired teenager.

Phantom cautiously opened his eyes. And, to Sarah’s surprise, they were blue.

“You’re Daniel Fenton,” Mark said.

She heard Jacob suck in a breath.

“Yes. I’m Danny Fenton.” Without the echo, his voice sounded much closer, much more down to earth than Phantom’s. “And a year ago, I was in an accident.”

His voice, like the rest of him, seemed softer without the powerful aura of Phantom behind it. If Sarah had passed him on the street, she wouldn’t have blinked twice. Gone was the cocky personality, the perfect posture, the floating white hair, the bright, determined expression. Gone was the jumpsuit, the logo, the strong voice that seemed like it could project for a mile, the banter, the confidence.

It was just a kid. A kid with baggy jeans, dirty shoes, and a plain shirt. He didn’t seem lithe, he looked weak. The green undertone to his skin was replaced with red, and his shoulders hunched in a way Sarah had never seen on Phantom before.

“What happened?” Mark asked.

“When my parents first completed their interdimensional ghost portal, it didn’t work. I decided to—it was my fault. I just decided to go in it. I don’t know why.” He looked up to the ceiling. “It was a stupid idea. The portal was plugged in, but there was a switch inside that wasn’t turned on, and I tripped over a wire and turned it on. From the inside.”

Sarah felt a pang in her chest. “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah. It was,” Phantom agreed. “And then I guess the portal stabilized the connection between Amity Park and the Ghost Zone, because ghosts started appearing in town. So I decided that if it was my fault that they were here, I was going to protect the town. And that’s what I’ve done.”

That’s his Obsession, Sarah realized. It’s protection.

“Why not come out with it?” Jacob asked. “Why bury your body? Why still try to pass as a human?”

Phantom’s head fell into his hands. “I didn’t know what else to do! It—I...you have to understand, my parents would never understand. They think all ghosts are evil. I couldn’t just come out and tell them what happened, they’d kill me!”

“So you decided it was safer to play human,” Jacob said.

“Yeah. I guess I did. Especially since...I sort of still am?” He lifted his head and stuck out his wrist. “I still have a pulse.”

No one moved.

“You’re shitting me,” Jacob guffawed.

“No, I’m being serious. The portal killed me, but then it brought me back to life. Except by then my body was already altered from the ecto-electricity, so the working theory is that I exist in this sort of limbo state between dead and alive. Hence why…” He transformed into Phantom and then back to Fenton. “Hence why I have two forms.”

“And the body,” Mark said. “The coroner report said it only weighed a little over half the weight of a normal body due to all the ectoplasm. But if you’re half alive, how would you have a body?”

Danny shrugged. “I don’t know? To be honest, that day was such a nightmare that I’ve mostly blocked it out.”

Mark finally reached over and took the boy’s wrist. He pressed two fingers against the skin and waited.

“Damn.” His eyes widened. “It’s actually there.”

“No way,” Jacob said, leaning over to take Phantom’s wrist. A few seconds passed before he was joining Mark’s reaction. “It is there.”

“I know.” Phantom tucked his arm back to his chest. “I don’t understand it. I have a heart and also a ghost core. I can feel it all the time, even as a human. I have human thoughts and feelings and ghostly instincts playing constantly.”

As confusing and morbid as this was, it made sense in a sort of twisted way that Sarah only reserved for the rambling logic of her paranoid, senior grandmother. It explained why Phantom, a ghost, would willingly risk himself day in and day out over the safety of humans. Phantom was a ghost who was driven to protect his home, and he was also a human who wanted to look after those he loved.

He was truly Schrödinger’s cat. Dead and alive inside his little box, his little town, with no one able to measure him.

“That’s the thing that sets you apart from the ghosts,” Sarah said, tapping her knee with her finger. “That day when you came to my house saying that you were different, this is what you were talking about. You also said it would be dangerous if this information got out.”

The question was implied, and Phantom seemed to pick up on it, judging by his grimace.

“You weren’t talking about your parents.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“So then who is it? Who was trying to destroy the morgue? Who are you hiding from?”

Danny crossed his arms and glared at the floor. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said bitterly. “The government. GiW, all of them. Think of what they’d do if they knew someone could be both dead and alive at the same time.”

“Well fuck the lot of them,” Jacob said.

“Yeah,” Danny agreed.

“And the ghost who was trying to take down the morgue?” Mark pressed.

“I…” Danny’s eyes shifted. “I can’t say. It’s a ghost thing. All the ghosts in the Zone know about me, they call me a halfa. Half alive, half dead. Honestly, I don’t think it took much convincing for them to want to protect me.”

“But you were fighting against them,” Jacob countered. “If they were really trying to protect you, then why not go along with them?”

Danny opened and closed his mouth, the words seemingly stuck in his throat. Words from Maddie’s ecto-biology papers fluttered across Sarah’s eyes, about how ghosts were evil, they were liars, they’d say and do anything to keep themselves safe.

But as Danny let out a defeated sigh, his arms uncrossing to dangle at his side, Sarah couldn’t help but see the face of a scared teen who was just doing his best.

“It’s a ghost thing,” he finally said. “I didn’t like what they were doing because...because I needed to protect my body. If the building collapsed, it would have gotten damaged.”

Sarah blinked, and her and Mark exchanged a glance.

“I see,” Mark said carefully. “So if there was a plan to recover your...body...safely, you would have gone along with it?”

“I don’t know. Ghosts are weird, they all have their own agenda. I’d rather if it were just...left alone. In the ground. Untouched. Like it had been.”

They were silent for a moment, and Sarah watched as Jacob and Mark stared at each other in silent conversation. One that only partners could properly understand.

Finally, Jacob relented. “Okay, here’s the deal. Say I go talk with Chief Davis and he agrees to keep your identity secret. In exchange, all you’d have to do for us is tell your parents.”

For a moment, Sarah thought Phantom was going to bolt out of the armchair.

“Why?”

“Because you’re screwing around putting your life in danger every day, kid,” Jacob said. “Not to mention, your parents’ house is a walking minefield for you. You godda protect yourself.”

“I protect myself just fine.”

“Doesn’t dismiss the fact that you’re running off getting in fights every day with ghosts, and then coming home to a house littered with ecto-weapons that could kill you. You know, all the way.”

“My parents will kill me if they find out though,” Danny said darkly. “You don’t know them.”

“Which is why you won’t be alone. Crowley and I will be there with you. And I know a woman in CPS who can keep this on the down low too. We won’t let anything happen, promise,” Mark said.

Phantom glanced between them, his wide blue eyes betraying just how fearful he was. “You promise?”

“Yeah kid, we got your back.”

---

“It’s going way better than I thought,” Danny said, throwing the stick up the path.

Atlas didn’t hesitate, bounding after the object with an enthusiasm rivaled by no one.

“I’m glad,” Sarah said. “You deserve a safe place to go home to.”

Danny cocked his head. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

Getting to know Danny these past few weeks was surreal. For a year now, Sarah had a set mental image of who Phantom was. The hero, the great protector, the thrill-seeker.

But now, as she got to know the quiet yet snarky kid who went to school and stressed over his math exams just like any other teen would, she’d gotten to appreciate the person that Danny truly was, the person he became when he wasn’t trying to hide his ghostly persona or playing the larger-than-life character.

Atlas pranced back, the stick held high like an Olympic medal.

“Good boy!” Danny praised.

At Sarah’s nonverbal command, Atlas dropped the stick in front of Danny, who was more than happy to pick it up and hurl ahead of the dirt path again.

“It’s weird. It’s almost like...I don’t know, it’s just kind of relieving? To not need to hide? Like don’t get me wrong, my parents are still kinda weird about it. I still don’t really use any of my powers at home because I just don’t think I’m ready. But the other day I used intangibility to get a cup out of the cabinet instead of just opening the cabinet door, and my mom didn’t even say anything. I remember back when I first got my powers and I couldn't figure out how to work them. I spent so long trying to hide any weirdness, and to think that now I can just do stuff and nobody cares.” A blissful smile dressed Danny’s lips. “It’s just nice, is all.”

“I bet,” Sarah said. “Must be a huge weight off your shoulders. And your sister’s okay with it?”

“Oh yeah. My sister actually already knew about it.”

“You’re kidding. Really?”

Danny threw the stick again. “Yeah, but I already knew about that. She told me a few months ago. But she’s been really helpful at home with trying to get everyone on the same page.”

“That’s good.”

“And my dad’s already been begging to take me out to the field with him.”

“Have you taken him up on it?”

“No. Not yet.”

Sarah peered cautiously over to him. “Why not?”

“I dunno.” Danny’s eyes tracked Atlas’ triumphant return from the woods. “It just seems a bit weird still. And besides, it would be kinda odd if my parents went from trying to kill me to suddenly Phantom’s new best friend overnight. For now they’ve agreed to a public truce.”

Ah yes, the truce. That had been all over the news when the Fenton’s announced it, citing new research into ghost psychology that showed instances of benevolent ghosts. The news had rocked the city, some calling the duo crazy, while others praising them for their growth.

Even though Phantom and the Fenton couple were still in the growing pains of their new truce, no one could deny how much more smoothly ghost fights had gotten since it began. There was less property damage, less citizen’s hurt, and overall the process seemed far more professional than it ever had.

“I’ve noticed a change,” Sarah said. “I really think it’s for the best.”

“So do I. Even though it’s still kinda weird.”

“It’ll get easier, just give it time.”

Atlas dropped the stick, apparently distracted by some scent on a bush. He stopped to sniff the plant before wandering behind it, his nose glued to the ground.

“Wait, Atlas—” Danny started, watching as Atlas disappeared into the foliage.

Hearing his name, the dog leapt back onto the trail and over to Danny, who paused to scratch him behind his ear. “Good boy.”

Sarah grinned down at the duo.

Who knew a cadaver dog and a half dead kid could make such a good pair?

---

Thanks for reading!

#danny phantom #my writing #morge #invisobang #invisobang 2021

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mellowswriting · 5 years ago

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Age Difference Headcanon

Mando: The romantic and sexual aspects don’t bother him in the slightest but a different issue arises - he feels like he’s stealing your youth. The life of a bounty hunter is far from an easy one and even though he was entirely used to his lifestyle from a young age...he doesn’t want that for you. You should be carefree and enjoying yourself before settling down with a nice person who can give you everything you want, not covering his six with your blaster and helping to take care of his kinda-sorta-adopted son. Mando’s silent disposition doesn’t help things; his guilt and fears stew until it boils over and out of nowhere, he’s telling you to go, that you deserve better than the kind of life he could give you. Mando sounds downright pissed when he’s saying it, but you can look at what appears to be anger and see it for what it really is - fear. You give him a moment to let him cool off - you were honestly surprised the beskar he wore wasn’t red hot with the intensity he gave off - and then settle yourself right in his lap in the pilot’s chair. Mando tries to usher you away but freezes when you tell him to ‘shut up, because it’s my turn to speak now’. You tell him everything. How you would take life with him however it happened - whether you spent everyday in the Crest until you met your Maker or settled down to raise your own herd of verda (warriors) together. How you couldn’t imagine your life without the man and child you love. How you would burn down the entire galaxy if anything happened to either of them. That is the exact moment Mando knows he needs to take a detour to the covert so he can sit down with the Alor and ask for their blessing to pledge a riduurok - Mando has found the one he will spend the rest of his days with.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales: Simply cannot handle the whole ‘young, irrational, and immature’ thing. This is a grown ass man, an experienced, elite soldier who has honestly put up with enough bullshit in his life and does not need any more of it. The only way he’s with someone significantly younger than him is if they’ve got the same mindset of communication and maturity. It isn’t something he expects or actively seeks out, but if a sharp, strong, beautiful young woman walks into his life and wants him… well, shit. Sign him the fuck up. He isn’t going to deny what would otherwise be a great relationship over an age gap.

Marcus Pike: This man is Conflicted about it sometimes because he almost feels… gross. Like he’s somehow taking advantage? But he also knows that you love him, he loves you, and you’re both consenting adults, so there’s no point in complicating it unnecessarily.

Oberyn Martell: The Red Viper beds young women in brothels by the dozen, so it isn’t a surprise to anyone that the woman he marries is younger than him. It isn’t even something he worries himself with, beyond ensuring you’re of age. He’s more concerned with the hope that you’ll explore the delectable world of pleasure with him, in all that it has to offer.

Max Phillips: When it’s just sex, the little bastard really doesn’t think twice. You’re of age and consenting, so he’s railing you into next week - that’s just how he works. If it progresses into feelings on the other hand… well, we already know he isn’t exactly the best at those. On the one hand, you being so much younger than him gives plenty of time for you to make the huge decision of whether or not you want to become like him and spend eternity with his frat boy ass. On the other, he doesn’t want you wasting yourself on a vampire who can’t give you the life you deserve, one of kids and a husband and a white picket fence. So, honestly? Max leaves. Straight up dips without giving you a real goodbye or an explanation. He knows it’s a cowardly move, but as much as he hates to admit it… he loves you and can’t stand the idea of ruining the life you could have. What he didn’t expect (but should have) was you hunting his ass down and showing up at his hotel thousands of miles away and damn near whooping his ass over his little stunt. You’re in his face and downright yelling at him for being such a little shit that he can’t even accept the love and affection that you’re so openly and willingly giving him. It isn’t until you’re shoving a finger into his chest and growling out, ‘I swear to god, Max Phillips, I will stake you myself if you ever pull some moronic shit like that again!’ with that fierce glint in your eye that Max realizes he not only completely (and stupidly) underestimated you, but he could not imagine going on with his life (afterlife?) without your feisty little ass by his side.

Pero Tovar: Another who doesn’t think much of the age difference. It’s a product of the times as well, a man taking a younger wife. Besides, this gruff mercenary may be downright terrifying in his skill with his sword, but he wants a happy wife with many babes in his home. If Pero has his way, he’s got a huge family - children pulling at your skirts with another at your breast and another growing strong in the swell of your belly. It eases that almost primal urge, knowing he was a young and healthy wife to breed his many children off of.

Agent Whiskey: Okay, as much as I love Jack… I’ll just say: at least he was someone who can match his ‘golden retriever puppy’ energy. This suave cowboy thrives off of the energy a younger woman gives him and will also 100% be a little tease about the age difference every chance he gets. God forbid you jokingly call him an old man, though. Then you’ve got one very handsy Whiskey on your hands, dragging you to bed to show you just how many different times that old man can make you wail his name.

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quirklessidiot · 5 years ago

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Title: coward :: warm saki for the cold nights Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion

Synopsis: Atsumu deals with heartbreak again and while doing so, receives an unexpected call that may just help bridge you two again.

notes:

someone said that my character for atsumu was differently written from most fanfiction. tbh the only fuckboy i see in haikyuu is Yuuji HASHHSSHAHA have u seen the piercing and how agressive he is. that def screams fuck boi

also i will be closing the taglist already after this chapter :/ if you guys don’t want to be tagged in the side stories, just message me hehe its not a problem (also i will be updating the side stories every FRIDAY’S) the drabble requests will be open for ten drabbles after the side stories hehe ily all so much. stay safe and i hope you enjoy this chapter!

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Atsumu watches you walk out of his life again for the second time.

He doesn’t know what to do or why he’s here on his bed, playing with the silver ring band that he was supposed to give you six years ago after he’d been accepted in the jackals. As much as he was heartbroken by the fact that you didn’t want to get married then, he still wanted to give you a simple ring band as a promise that marriage was never the only way to get him to stick around you.

He couldn’t throw it away even after all these years.

Now that he looks at it, he’s reminded of that time you left him. The first time.

He really thought it would hurt less this time around. It was the second time after all but it still stings especially now since it was right at his face. He lets out a bitter chuckle, ‘selfish, huh?’ he thought.

Those words were odd coming from you.

In the two year span of your relationship, you were never the selfish one. In fact, he came to the late realization that he was the selfish one between you two in the relationship. Atsumu always thought physical and loud declarations of affection were the key to a healthy relationship, mundane things like sleeping next to each other or being there everyday (hence why long distance relationships were a no go for him) but you, you took it up the notch.

It may have been your first relationship but you were better than any girl he had dated. He realized then that maybe that's why you broke up with him, because you probably thought that he didn’t care to know more about you (when in actuality he was just too scared to ask because he might lose you if he did)

The phone starts to ring and as much as he wants to ignore it again, something tells him that he should answer this unknown contact.

“...Yo, this is Daiki.”

He blinks as he hears the deep voice of the basketball player, wasn’t this supposed to be his rival? How the hell did he even get his number?

“I heard Y/N pushed you away again like before, want to grab that drink?”

Atsumu doesn’t know why he agrees right after.

They ended up at a private japanese bar, apparently they had the best saki in the whole of japan and Daiki was willing to treat him despite the high price of alcohol because of what happened between you two, “You look like shit, man.” he points out as soon as he arrived, “No offense. Then again, that’s what I looked like when Y/N first rejected me.”

Atsumu sits across him at the booth and ignores the man’s statement about his looks, “Do you still like Y/N that way? Even after she rejected you a lot?” he asks, suddenly.

“After I realized how much she liked those kid’s father. I sorta gave up.” He laughed as if it was nothing, “He was hard to match, Y/N was begging me not to go to him to punch him in the face, she was in tears that night.”

“He’s a lucky bastard.” Atsumu spat bitterly, pouring more sake on his cup, “I’m guessing you know this guy?”

“Of course I do.” Daiki began, “Only recently though, Y/N never told anyone who the dad was. I had to figure that shit out on my own.”

Atsumu stares at his drink for a moment and swirls it around, he wants to know but at the same time he doesn’t. What would he even do if he knew? Would he find him and punch the asshole in the face for doing that to you? He’s starting to get Daiki, whoever this guy was, he was impossibly hard to match.

“I want to be in her life.” Atsumu confessed, “I want to replace that bastard’s place.”

Daiki’s eyes crinkle in utter amusement, just how long was this cat and mouse game going to play? What would happen if he told this blonde guy? Would you talk to him after he told Atsumu why you left? Would Daiki even be able to handle you leaving him?

Daiki’s take a deep breath as he ponders on that thought. He was willing to risk it though. He sees the genuineness in this guy’s eyes. From a man to a man, he could sense it. God, if only he had been a bit more pushy towards you back then about the whole tell-your-boyfriend thing, maybe you’d have it a bit easier now.

“What’s stopping you?”

“Y/N.” The blonde shrugs, the mere mention of your name stinged like the alcohol he was drinking, “I can’t force her. I can’t repeat the same mistakes I made before. Relationships were never her strongest suit and I feel like I forced it on her.”

“You didn’t.” Daiki proclaims, the basketball player ponders for a moment in deep thought, “The thing about Y/N is that she’s careful with whom she wants to be intimate with. The reason why she probably said yes was because she saw something in you but in the end…” Daiki paused, he’s not sure what to say next, this was a sensitive issue after all, “In the end, her fear got the better of her…”

“Sometimes I wish I could take it all away.” The setter quietly confessed, recalling the fear in your eyes back then made him sick.

In the two-year relationship you had, it had always been about him. He really had the audacity to proudly proclaim that he loved you yet it seemed more like you had loved him more.

It showed when you’d quietly just hold his hand and draw small circles on it after a loss, how you’d listen to his stories without interruptions, how you’d help him out in classes that he had a hard time at, how you’d prepare a hot meal for him every night he stayed up later to train, and how you’d silently just let him snuggle on your chest after a long day. It was those little things, things he realized later on that you’d never do to other people but he was a special case.

It was always about you taking care of him and putting him first.

It wasn’t openly affectionate like the girls he had before or after you, you had your own little way.

It was always about wanting to get a physical reaction from you, he was too blinded to the fact that it was never your type of thing.

He was the taker in the relationship, you had always been the giver.

Daiki was silent once again as he observed his devastating figure, “You really love her, don’t you?”

“I do.” he chuckled, “People tend to call me a fuck up for that but they don’t get it. When Y/N shows a little side of her, you...you can’t stop loving her, ya know? God, when she smiled and laughed at me for the first time. I knew at that moment that I wanted to hear that beautiful sound for the rest of my life.”

It felt good to get that out of his chest for once, ‘samu would call him a sappy piece of shit if he had heard that but it was the raw truth. Every word he said, every feeling he tried to express, it was all so genuine and that’s what made everything so painful.

God, the saki was getting to him. He can’t believe he told Daiki out of all people about this.

“You said you wanted to know who the father of those kids was, right?”

Atsumu stops whatever he’s drinking and feels his ears perk up at the sound of that. Daiki looks dead serious as he downs the saki straight-up, the next few words sobers the blonde setter because it’s not what he expects.

“Y/N told me the father was her first boyfriend, a boy from tokyo university.”

Atsumu feels his heart thumping fast as he makes his way to your apartment in the dead of the night, the alcohol long gone but the words of Daiki still stinging and fresh, a father? Was that why you ran away?

Because you were pregnant with his kids?

He curses underneath his breath as he finally parks his car in front of your apartment, he’s still shaken by the sudden revelation and he feels like kicking himself, how he could’ve been so stupid? He should’ve known something was odd when you suddenly disappeared and broke up on the phone.

While he was enjoying his life as a pro, you were out there fending for the kids alone.

He shakes his head.

“...I can’t tell you why Y/N ran away, it’s better if you heard the story from her.” Daiki’s words echo in his head, “I know she placed a lot on your plate these past six years but she has her reasons, I’m not saying that you should forgive her immediately. I’m just asking you to listen.”

Atsumu gets out of his car and takes out his phone, calling the number he got from Daiki. You had never exchanged numbers even after all that had happened. Now that he noticed, you were keen on distancing yourself from him. Ever since the beginning, you were so adamant to push him out of your life in the same cold way like before.

How could he not have noticed?

He curses himself in his head, for all the times he had to be slow, why now?

“Hello?” Your voice is groggy, signaling that you were asleep, “May I know who's on the line?”

“I’m downstairs.” he blurted out, not knowing what to say, he knows you recognize his voice, “Can we talk Y/N?”

“Miya-san? What are you?- It’s almost twelve-”

“One last time, Y/N.” He pleads, voice soft as he says your name, “Please?”

You hang up soon after, he doesn’t care if he has to stake out here in his car for the whole night and wait for you to come down in the morning. Right now, all that matters is you.

Only you.

Thankfully, he doesn’t need to do that since he sees you going out of your apartment a few moments later in a large black coat with mismatched socks, if it weren’t for the gravity of the situation, he would’ve teased you for your unusual get-up.

“I thought I told you that I didn’t want to have anything to do with you anymore.” in contrast to your soft tone, your words are harsh and if it were the old him, he’d have back down but he knows something now.

He takes in a deep breath and lets out a drawling sigh as he removes his scarf, “It’s cold tonight.” He observes, ignoring the harsh words you said as he inches closer to you to wrap his scarf around your neck.

“You smell like alcohol.”

“Aomine-san and I went out for a drink.” He recounts, tying the scarf on your neck. He sucks in a deep breath before he says the following words, “You know Y/N, you never told me his name.”

“Excuse me?” You're confused by the sudden words as you try to remove the scarf but he stops you and grabs a hold of your hands instead, clasping his fingers on yours like the old times. He loved the warmth you radiated. It always felt nice.

“The name of that bastard who left you.” He stated. He’s so close to you to the point that you could smell the saki and perfume on him, hear his ragged breathing, and hear the thumping of his heart. You try to remove yourself from his grasp but you’re trapped in his stare and tight hold, “What’s his name, Y/N?”

“I told you, it’s none-”

“Just a name, Y/N.”

Silence ensued between you two and you nervously gulp down.

So it really was him.

This was now or never.

“Just for one moment, can you stop running away from me?” he begs, as he inched closer to hug you and place his head on your shoulder, “Just stop running, Y/N. You don’t have to tell me what happened and why you ran away back then, just let me love you now and be a father to those kids.”

It's silent for a moment and he feels fear engulf him again, his confidence slowly vanishing. Were you going to push him away again?

Yet he feels you starting to tremble on his hold and something wet on his shoulders, he suddenly stands up straight to find you crying on his shoulder, “You’re so fucking stupid, did you know that?” you suddenly cried, “I literally broke up with you on the fucking phone, ran away from you-”

“Yet you never forgot me and raised those kids very well on your own.” He hummed, cutting you off as he rested his head on top of yours, still hugging you tightly. Yes, this was right, the warmth that he wanted was right here, he was finally at ease.His anxiety was slowly dwindling, “God, I should’ve tried harder to not make you feel that way before.”

“I-It’s my fault.” You stammered, “I kept doubting you and kept running from you.”

“You must’ve been scared, sweetheart.” He murmured, cutting you off as he ignores you recounting your past ‘mistakes’ --- he wouldn’t call it mistakes though, they were the seeds of doubt that he planted on you, so he was technically at fault there, he should’ve tried harder to not make you feel that way. He should’ve been more observant ---- He buries himself on your scent and draws small circles on your back to soothe your shaking figure. You’d do this to him a lot before, it was his turn now to return all the comfort and support you gave him.

Atsumu slowly lets go and sees you’re a mess in front of him from the red rims under your eyes to the wet cheeks to your non-stop shaking figure.

‘...You always had trouble expressing yourself naturally to people after all.’

No, it seemed like you had turned it off towards other people except your kids. Atsumu noted how strong you were towards your kids, how you tried hard to build a home for them and be the most genuine mother you could be, it breaks his heart that he wasn’t there to help and support you.

He slowly brings his hands up and softly cups your cheeks to wipe the stray tears, “I know that I can’t take all your problems and baggage away for a night but I’ll be here, Y/N. I’ll be here even if you’re annoyed, I’ll be here even if you throw me out because of the confusion you have with your feelings. I’ll stay. Permanently, no take-backs.”

You shakily lift your hands to grab a hold of his rough hands and squeeze it to make sure this is all real, that this wasn’t a dream.

“You’re an idiot.” You sniffle, taking in his warmth and basking on it, “I really told you to be selfish, for once. Why can’t you do that?”

“That’s ironic coming from you.” he mused, “You were always the giver in our relationship in your own way, you raised our kids in the best way possible. I could think of a million ways that you were the giver in our relationship and I was more of the receiver.” Atsumu chuckles at the irony as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair. He feels better now that everything is out of the way, that he can finally hold you with no restrictions. The little family with you that was supposed to be a fleeting moment, was now slowly becoming a reality.

“In the end, all that matters is that I love you. It’s never changed for the past six years, Y/N. I doubt it’ll change in the long run.” he confessed, leaning in to give you a brief kiss on the temple. You feel yourself start to calm down as you rested on his chest and listen to his heart beat.

You missed that sound, the sound of home.

It takes a while for you to actually settle down and sit with your kids, Atsumu reminds you that you could take your time in the introductions, even volunteering that he could help you with it but you decided against it in the end. This was your responsibility. You still had to make up for the past six years of heartbreak you gave to the poor man and your kids.

Atsumu doesn’t shy away though, he comes by after his morning training during your lunch break to have lunch with you and even volunteers to pick up the kids after class before his nightly training.

Slow pace and baby steps as he’d like to call it.

“Jiji’s acting weird.” Yuuto frowns as he picks on his fish with his chopsticks, “He’s been hanging around us too much, kaasan.”

“Yeah!” Youta echoes, “Is he going to be like Daiki-ojisan? Is he going to be our ojisan?”

You place your chopsticks down and stare at the pair in front of you. It would be hard to explain to the pair about Atsumu and his relationship with them, you almost wanted to call the man himself to help you explain but you decided against it.

This was now or never.

“Can kaasan tell you something?” You softly ask, placing your chopsticks down, the steamed fish long forgotten.

“What is it, kaasan?” Youta asks innocently, tilting his head just a bit, “Did jiji do something again? Should me and yu do something about it?”

“No,” you shake your head, “It’s...It’s about your otosan…”

Silence enveloped the table, the boys never talked about their father in front of you because they noticed how sad you’d be by the mere mention of their father yet that didn’t stop them from asking around your close circle of friends like Atsumu and Daiki. Did you find out about their interest? Were they going to be scolded?

“I...I want to introduce him to you…” You slowly began, “he...he’s come home…”

Youta and Yuuto’s eyes widen immediately, “He? He has?” Yuuto suddenly exclaimed, standing up from his chair. You could detect the excitement in his eyes, “What does he look like, kaasan? Does he have the same hair as us? Does he look like us? Did- did he get all his dreams?”

“Is he a doctor, kaasan? Or does he play sports like Daiki-ojisan and jiji?” Youta adds, wondering out loud, “Weird. We’re not that famous yet, kaasan. Is he going to be proud of us?”

You feel your heart thump and your eyes water at the question as you swallow the lump on your throat, “He’s, he’s very proud of you.” you try to blink away the tears, “In fact, your otosan was very scared because you might hate him.”

“Is that why he wasn’t able to come home?” Yuuto asks quietly, he had always been smart for his age.

You were silent for a moment and you take in a very deep breath, when they were old enough you’d tell them all about what happened, in the meantime, you’d tell them a simple explanation, “No, it was kaasan’s fault...Your otosan wasn’t able to come home because of kaasan…”

“Will...will you tell us why, kaasan?” Youta questions, you could tell that he was scared to ask that question.

“Because kaasan was scared…” You paused, trying to find the right words to explain to them, “Kaasan had you when me and your otosan was still quite young so kaasan ran away…”

“Did o-otosan not want us then?” Yuuto quivers, his lifted spirits now down, you could tell that he was trying to hold it in. You immediately had to stand up and rush to their side to comfort them, “Of course not!” You exclaimed, taking their hands and bending to their level, “It’s just, kaasan had very bad things happening around her that she had to run away.”

“Are...are the bad things gone now then, kaasan?”

You turn to Youta whose eyes were soft and spirits down too, he seemed to have grasped the situation yet at the same time, he couldn’t get it. Maybe it was a big kids type of thing? Would he understand this all when he was older?

“Almost…” You quietly replied, you knew you still had a lot of things to fix within yourself like Atsumu had said, it’s not something you can ever get rid of but it’s never bad to take a helping hand once in a while, “Your otosan is helping me and you guys are helping me too, so they’re slowly disappearing…”

“When...when will we meet him? Our otosan?”

You’re silent for a second and you nervously tell them to wait a moment as you go to your room to take out a Polaroid, one with you and Atsumu in it. It’s an old one, taken on your last anniversary. It’s one of those memorabilia's you kept of him that you could never throw away.

You come back to the table and sit across them as you place the picture in front of them, “You’ve met him already…”

Youta’s eyes widen, “Isn’t this…”

“Jiji?” Yuuto finishes, jaw slacken.

You couldn’t tell if they were happy or disappointed at all. Their faces were bare stripped of emotion, the only thing you detected was shock.

“It was never your otosan’s fault, I…” You shakily sighed, holding in the tears, “It was mine, I’m so sorry…I’m so so sorry…”

At that moment, you really didn’t know how you should face them or how you should explain it to them, you were so caught up in your fears and anxiety that you didn’t notice how soft their features became, “Will you tell us?” Youta asks.

You look them both in the eye.

“Will you tell us why where we’re older, kaasan?” Yuuto adds.

Your shaking ceased when you heard those words.

Ah yes, they were their father’s kids. Always so patient, always there to listen to you. How were you blessed with such good kids? You broke down a smile reserved just for them.

“Yes, when you’re ready and older.” You affirmed, bowing down in apology, “I hope you’ll be patient with me then.”

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gwynposting · 4 years ago

Text

All Along the Watchtower (Ch. 2)

This story takes place after the “All Along the Watchtower” ending of Cyberpunk 2077, so spoilers ahead.

Ch. 1 | AO3 Link

The gentle glow of neon red fought against the encroaching abyss of the deep. It felt dreamlike, in a way, to have everything suspended in place, weightless, drifting through the sea. Here it wasn’t just her body drifting aimlessly through the water, it felt like the weight crushing her very soul began to lift, she felt as if she could finally breathe free.

But the depths were also a bit disorienting - it was difficult to make heads and tails of direction or speed down here. The only thing V had for reference was the figure in front of her, illuminated by the twin headlamps attached to her diving suit. She was V’s rock, her guiding hand through the unknown, the abyss.

“I wish Evie could’ve seen this,” Judy said as she looked to the towering church before them, it’s darkened silhouette like a leviathan

Evelyn’s name caught V’s breath. She felt the blood drain from her face. Her pulse quickened. Her pupils dilated.

Evelyn’s bruised and beaten body, lying in the middle of the room.

V sought breath after breath in frantic hyperventilation but nothing came. No air would sate her lung’s desire.

Her body lying in the tub.

Judy turned in curiosity to find V flailing in the water. V tugged and grabbed at her throat as if she were trying to free herself from a vice wrapped around her neck. “V?” began in confusion before she realized something was seriously wrong, “V!” she shouted.

Judy...

Her lungs were on fire, as if they contained a dozen lit matches. She felt paralyzed by her visions.

“No, no, NO,” she heard Judy’s desperate voice becoming increasingly frantic, “Stay with me V.”

Judy made a dash over to V to hold her steady, but V didn’t even react to her presence. The sounds around her became murky, like the bass of a concert bleeding through cement wall. All she could see was Judy’s frantic display. It consumed her.

“V! She pleaded, “Not you too,” her voice was a cry to the gods, to anyone who would listen, “I can’t lose you too V. I can’t do it again. Please, Valerie. Stay with me.”

And then nothing.

V awoke with a shock. The snug embrace of her blanket that had been so welcoming before now acted like a vice trapping her in its confines. With one motion she stripped the blanket off and to the side. Her shirt clung to her form, caked with sweat. She tried to gasp for air but nothing would come, as if she were being strangled, like water had seeped into her lungs. She made a mad dash for the sink.

With a grotesque retch, she purged herself into the sink. But before she was done, she began to violently cough into her hand. Her throat burned with each hack until she was left breathless, in a sort of daze staring down at the sink below. Blood stained her hand and seeped down into the sink below. With the blockage free, V finally took her first breath. It came like fire, as the air traveled through her roughened throat to fill her aching lungs.

V collapsed onto her forearms that shakily held her upright. Her breathing was rapid and shaky, with each labored breath feeling like daggers dragged along her throat.

She glanced up into the mirror. Her eyes were lidded, dark circles present underneath. Her skin was flushed. V was hardly able to keep herself stable. She could feel her faculties, both physical and mental, slipping from her grasp.

“Walking talking corpses,” she began to hear, a faint echo in a fading mind. The dread began to seep through her once more. The unshakeable feeling of inevitability, forever present in the back of V’s thoughts, once more resurfacing. How many times had she faced death at this point? Deshawn, Mikoshi. And now she’d have to die once more?

But this time the stakes were different. It wasn’t just about the loss of her own life anymore. It wasn’t about becoming the legend of Night City and going out in spectacular fashion. She had a family. She had Judy. She would have to leave Judy behind.

“Fuck, V. I was so worried. I saw what was happening on the news and you weren’t getting back to me and-”

“I know, Judy,” V cut her off, switching off the car radio’s live coverage of the chaos at Arasaka tower, “I’m sorry. I’m okay. I’ll fill you when I get there, be home soon.”

She couldn’t believe she almost did.

The rhythmic drum of rain droplets bounced against the window. The diver on Judy’s wall glowed under the soft blue lighting, as if they were traveling down the ocean depths.

“What happened in there? In this ‘Mikoshi’?” Judy took the cigarette out of V’s mouth and inhaled, “You still haven’t said anything about it.”

Judy’s eyes were filled with worry, and it killed V to see them so afraid. V closed her eyes and looked away, she didn’t think she even had the strength to tell her if she had to face the hurt.

“Well,” V hesitated, her voice shaky and unsure, holding back tears, “Johnny’s out. But uh,” her breath hitched, “I guess my brain isn’t mine anymore. I only got about 6 months left.”

“F-fuck,” Judy stuttered, her breath caught in her throat. She took a deep inhale from her cigarette, “Fuck, V. You sure?” Judy’s voice was weak, a shadow of its usual strength.

“No, but that’s what Alt said.” V looked down to what she feared - tears streamed down Judy’s face.

“Is there -” Judy began, “there has to be something you can do.” Judy pleaded more than affirmed.

V looked away and wiped the tears from her eyes. “V?” Judy croaked.

“The Aldecados have some contacts that might be able to help, but...” V paused and let the silence linger. She still hadn’t come to grips with it herself, “I was called a ticking time bomb by Alt Cunningham. The AI who instantaneously fried everyone in Arasaka tower.”

The silence was suffocating.

“I’m sorry, Jude.” V’s voice was withered, stripped away by the knowledge that Judy would have to go through yet more loss. That Night City would claim everything that she held close.

Judy wiped the tears from her eyes, “You don’t worry about me, okay? We’re gonna try every last option on this earth before we give up.” Her voice was more assured, as if she were trying to convince V that it would all be okay.

Or maybe she was trying to convince herself.

“And no matter what, V, I will be here with you ‘till the end.”

With that, V began openly weeping, seeking out Judy’s breast to curl into. Judy lovingly wrapped her arms around V and brought her close as she whispered sweet comforts. Each muffled cry sent daggers through Judy’s heart.

“I can’t do it again, Judy. I’m so tired.”

V’s cracked voice pained Judy. But even though it felt like Judy’s own world was crumbling apart around her, she had to be strong for V, “You can, and you will.” Judy gave herself a few moments to steel herself, “You have a family. You have me. We will be there every single step of the way. You don’t need to go through this alone anymore.”

V remained silent, through Judy’s soothings and touches, before finally sitting up. “I think I need a smoke,” almost as faint as a whisper. Judy nodded and retrieved another stick from her pack and held it out for V. She captured the cigarette between her lips and held still as Judy set it alight. She took several draws before she was sated.

“Can I tell you something?” V asked hesitantly.

Judy blew a puff of smoke into the air and turned to her, her cheeks puffy and eyes still bloodshot, “Shoot, V.”

“After I left Arasaka, I couldn’t stop thinking about Jackie. About his funeral. About Mama Welles and Misty and Vik. About how I’d never see that goofy smile anymore.” V took another draw before continuing. “Then I thought about my own funeral, and saw you standing over my body, just like Evelyn. Part of me just, I don’t know, wanted to run off to die on my own and spare you the grief of another loved one dying. Make you hate me instead.”

Judy reached over and grabbed one of V’s nipples, squeezed, and twisted. V squeaked out in shock. “Fuckin’ gonk,” she said, icily, before letting go, “I’d have hunted you down and killed you myself.”

“I don’t doubt it,” V chuckled and took another draw, gently massaging away the pain with her fingers. “Intrusive thought, I guess. In my defence, I went from thinking I was dead meat to actually having some real hope to then have it all stripped away. My state of mind wasn’t exactly in the best place. Sorry, Jude.”

“Don’t apologize,” Judy softened her tone, her eyes becoming more sympathetic, “I can’t even begin to understand what that must feel like.” Judy took one long draw from her cigarette and let out a slow cloud of smoke.

“Just promise me one thing, V?” Judy’s voice became calm, but serious, “no matter what happens, no matter where this trail leads, we do this together, okay?”

V nodded, “Together.”

V felt as if she’d radiated every bit of heat away from her body. Her muscles ached, her throat was on fire, and she couldn’t stop the ceaseless shivers that wracked her body.

She flinched as she felt something brush along her shoulder, but settled into the touch once she looked up and saw Judy’s reflection in the mirror. V tried a smile of assurance but the smeared blood along her lips wasn’t terribly convincing. Judy leaned her head against V’s back, as if to hug her from behind without being too constricting. “C’mon,” Judy cooed, “can I draw you up a warm bath?”

V’s voice was hoarse, rough with exhaustion and fatigue, “Yeah, thanks Jude.” V felt enough strength to start cleaning out the sink and whipping the blood from her hands. She had to shake the memories that cropped up.

Jackie’s blood.

“What time is it?” V croaked, splashing cold water over her tired eyes.

“Just a bit before 5,” Judy cooed.

The sound of rushing water filled their cozy home. They didn’t have a water heater, but they at least had some running water. The Aldecados had set up in a ghost town much like Rocky Ridge about an hour outside Tuscon while they established a basis of communication with their contacts in the city. Most of the old-timers stuck with their own tents that they peppered around town, while Judy and V were more than happy to claim a cozy house off the main street.

“Let me go heat up some water,” V said, feeling silly she’s not being useful.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Judy tutted her teeth. “You stay put.”

Judy held V’s hand to help guide her down onto the ledge of the tub. With V safe, she made her way over to the kitchen and grabbed the tea kettle out of the cupboard. Judy filled it with water then placed it on the stove, turning it on.

While she was waiting for the kettle to reach boiling, Judy returned to their bedroom and picked out a plush blanket. She returned to the bathroom to see V stripped down, sitting on the edge of the tub. She was hunched over, shivering. Goosebumps lined her arms. When Judy entered, V looked up to her. Judy saw it in her eyes, how much everything was getting to her. To see the uncertainty and fear looking back at her made Judy’s heart drop in that moment. V looked so small, so vulnerable.

V shook her head, “It’ll just get dirty,” V muttered, gesturing to the blanket in Judy’s arms.

“Hush, you,” Judy sidled up beside her and wrapped it around V. Despite her protests, V quickly grabbed the edges and brought them close. Judy kept an arm around V and leant her head on V’s shoulders. They didn’t say anything, they didn’t need to. They sat in silence until the gentle whine of steam began to fill the air.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Judy tried to joke, before making her way to the kitchen to grab the boiling kettle. Judy carefully picked up the whistling pot and brought it back to warm up the cool water. Judy kneeled besides V and began to pour. The splash of pouring water and clouds of steam filled the air as she emptied its contents into the bath. Judy tested the temperature of the water with prodding fingertips, then plunged her hand in to stir and distribute the heat.

“I think we’re all set,” Judy said as she shook off her dripping hand. Judy began to shuck off her sweatpants and shirt. “How’d you like to do it?”

“Can you hold me?” V whispered. Judy felt her heart drop.

“Por supuesto, calabacita” Judy soothed as she tried to keep her own voice steady. As difficult as it was to see the woman she loved so vulnerable and hurt, she had to be the emotional rock V had been for her. Judy shed her underwear and dipped her toes in before fully submerging herself. Judy let herself enjoy the comfortable warmth for a moment before making room for V to get in.

V quickly followed suit, tossing the blanket in the laundry pile before dipping herself in the bath, being careful to take her time. Her arms shook with fatigue as she lowered herself down.

She sought Judy’s outstretched arms and sank back into their embrace. V clung to the arms wrapped around her as if she were never to let go again. Judy sat herself out of the water more so that V could snuggle into her without her head dipping below the water level. Judy’s breasts became dotted with goosebumps as they became exposed to the cooler air.

“This is the second time this week, Jude,” V shook in Judy’s grasp.

“I know,” Judy sighed. They both understood the rising frequency of the attacks.

“I’m scared,” V squeaked, almost a whisper.

“Fuck,” Judy mouthed to herself to herself, as if viscerally reacting to the pain laced in V’s voice crack. Fuck this was hard. “I know,” she tried to calm her shaking voice, “But hey, we meet with Mitch’s contact tomorrow. Your fate isn’t written in stone here. Remember that feeling in Vik’s clinic when he broke the news that the relic was killing you? You had no hope of surviving. Every single lead went bust. But you managed to survive V, because you’re one of a kind. I know we’ll find something.”

“Maybe. I’m just… tired, Jude. I’ve been dying for how long now? It feels like I’m just... prolonging the inevitable. Like I’m… stretching myself thin.”

Judy placed a kiss on the top of V’s head, “I know, hun. But the important thing is that now you’re not alone. You don’t need to be strong anymore, we’re all here to help you.”

V allowed Judy’s words to sink in before she tightened her grip on Judy’s forearm, “I don’t like to think of where I’d be without you, Judy.”

“Good thing I’m stickin’ around then, hm?” Judy leaned in to V’s ears and whispered, “can’t get rid of me that easy~”

V let out a small chuckle, “I love ya, y’gonk.”

“I love you too.”

***

“What was he like?”

V stared off aimlessly into the valley below, idly massaging her forearm. Her legs dangled down the small cliffside. The sky bled deep reds and purples as it prepared the way for the sun’s arrival. Clouds caught and mixed the colors to produce vibrant displays.

“V?” Judy repeated.

V’s name caught her ear and brought her out of her reverie. She turned to Judy, a light blush of embarrassment creeping up on her cheeks.

“What was he like?” Judy repeated, motioning down to the spot on V’s forearm that she was palming over - a tattoo that said “Johnny + V” inside of a heart.

V followed Judy’s gaze and recognized what she was getting at. She reflexively moved her hand away from the tattoo, as if she hadn’t realized she’d even been so sentimental about it. She was still rather bitter about that night.

“He was…” V paused in reflection. She still hadn’t come to terms with… everything. She still caught herself thinking out to Johnny, only to get nothing but silence in return.

“You would’ve hated him,” V said with a short laugh, “he was one massive prick. But at the same time, I miss the guy.”

V sought out Judy’s hand and Judy received it readily. Judy remained quiet, letting V have the floor to continue when she was ready.

“He did end up liking you though,” V glanced over to Judy with a smirk, “even with the whole diving business. I guess he was thalassophobic.”

“And we kinda proved him right with that eh,” Judy aired.

“Think it rubbed off on me too after that,” V tried to smile, but the thought of returning back to those depths made her palms feel clammy and cold. She could feel the familiar tightened around her throat return, like a phantom grip threatening to squeeze the life out of her.

“Sorry if you had any plans to do some more diving with me,” V chuckled in a morbid laugh, “Guess I’ll have to stick to experiencing the BDs that you scroll, so I don’t have to feel the anxiety going out myself. For now, I guess.”

Judy brought V’s hand up to her lips and placed a lingering kiss, “You go at your own pace, V. Even if that means you never step foot in the water again, or even watch a BD. Don’t ever feel like you need to push yourself past your limits for me.”

“Yeah… thanks, Judy.”

The silence returned once more as the tips of the sun’s rays began to clip over the horizon. The valley was basked in royal shades, a mixture of vibrant colors and long cast shadows.

“It feels weird that he’s not poking around in my head anymore,” V said solemnly.

“Was he always around or…?” Judy floated.

“I think so, to some extent. Even when I’d take my blockers I guess he’d still experience everything. Just… we wouldn’t be able to communicate.”

V thought a moment before continuing, “I’m assuming it’s similar to the night I got this,” she waved around her tattooed arm, “little present from Johnny. The first time I gave him control of my body,” V’s voice turned icy. “I had to watch that trainwreck of a night unfurl before my eyes and have absolutely 0 control over it.”

V sat still for a few moments. She had never really ever had the chance to vent out to anybody about Johnny, the good or the bad. Her entire life until recently was foot on the chooh, just trying to stay alive. No time for reflection.

“But,” V’s voice began to quiver, “I still think he was a good person. Underneath it all. Think in the end he recognized how badly he fucked up his old friendships, hell, even fucked it up with me.”

“Aww did you fix the bad boy up?” Judy giggled.

V couldn’t hold back a smile and playfully elbowed Judy in the arm. “I guess it’s more that we rubbed off on each other, over time.” V looked over to Judy with a cheeky look, “And before you ask, no, I did not take on his delusions of grandeur. Did start smoking again though.”

“Guess you and me got that in common,” Judy replied with a single huff.

V held the silence for a while, collecting her thoughts. “But I am glad we took out Mikoshi. Not just for Johnny, it was the right thing to do. And I have him to thank for getting me to come around.”

“I’ll mark your relationship as ‘It’s complicated’ eh?” Judy leaned her head on V’s shoulder.

“I think,” V started, “when all of this is over… y’know, if we pump the brakes on me dying… I’d like to return to Night City and do a proper send off.”

“Then I guess we better focus on not dying then,” Judy replied.

The pair winced and squinted their eyes as the sun finally crested into the sky. Its radiance began to creep down their bodies and chase away the chills of the desert morning. Judy’s familiar hum was a welcome addition, and V leaned her cheek on Judy’s head and basked in the moment. She would make sure to cherish every single moment, because sooner or later, she knew she wouldn’t be able to.

And then she heard that familiar voice ring through her head as if he never left, “Happy endings? Wrong city. Wrong people.”

Author’s Note: Chapter 3 is out on AO3 already. I’d post it here but I don’t want to spam this tag so I’ll post the tumblr link in a few days (when I remember). I’m not nearly as dutiful about posting to my tumblr as I will be with AO3 so if you want consistent updates, be sure to check there.

#cyberpunk 2077 #judy alvarez #judy x v #female v #AATW #v and judy

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 5 years ago

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It's Reformation Month!

Most Christians have heard the names of John Calvin, Martin Luther, John Knox, and other giants of the Protestant Reformation in Europe. But there are many other lesser known men and women who worked to advance the cause of the Reformation!

Women also played an important role, either in disseminating the ideas of the Reformation, or using their political power to protect the preachers and teachers of these ideas, and, yes, some were burned at the stake.

Here is one of these women

Joyce Lewis (Jocasta Lewis) died in 1557 as an English Protestant martyr, burned alive at the stake for refusing to take part in the Catholic Mass and calling it unbiblical.

She first married Sir George Appleby of Appleby in Leicestershire and they had two sons. Her husband died in 1547 at the Battle of Pinkie. She then married Thomas Lewis of Mancetteron 10 September 1547.

In the beginning of Queen Mary's time Joyce was a Catholic and went to the church and heard mass as others did, but when she heard of the burning of that most godly and learned martyr, Laurence Saunders, who suffered in Coventry, she began to question her faith and take more heed to the matter, and inquired earnestly, of such as she knew feared God, the cause of his death. And when she perceived it was because he refused to receive the mass, she began to be troubled in conscience, and waxed very unquiet.

Her move to being a Protestant was led by the brother of another martyr, Robert Glover, who died the same year. Now John Glover, perceiving both her unquiet mind and also the desire she had to know the truth, did most diligently instruct her in the ways of the Lord, approving unto her, out of God's holy word, that the mass, with all other papistical inventions, was odious in God's sight; and besides this, reproved her, for that she delighted in the vanities of this world so much. By the which godly counsel given by him, it happened that she began to wax weary of the world, thoroughly sorrowful for her sins, being inflamed with the love of God, desirous to serve him according to his word, purposing also to flee from those things the which did displease the Lord her God. And because she had learned the mass to be evil and abominable, she began to hate it. And when at a time she was compelled by the furiousness of her husband to come to the church, at the same time when the holy water was cast, she turned her back towards it, and showed herself to be displeased with their blasphemous holy water, injurious to the blood of Christ. Whereupon she was accused before the bishop for the despising of their sacramentals. Her previous devotion to Catholicism was replaced by "irreverent behaviour in church" which came to the notice of Ralph Baines, the Bishop of Lichfield.

Immediately a citation was sent for her to appear before the bishop. But she stoutly told the bishop, that by refusing of the holy water, she had neither offended God, nor any part of his laws. At the which words the bishop being grievously offended, yet because she was a gentlewoman, he gave her one month's respite, binding her husband in a hundred pounds, to bring her again unto him at the month's end: and so they were both let go. When they came to their own house, the said Mistress Joyce Lewes gave herself to most diligent prayer, and invocating of the name of God.

When the month was now almost expired, and the time at hand that she should be brought before the said bishop, her husband being advised by the said Master John Glover and others not to carry her to the bishop, but to seek some ways to save her, or, if the worst should come, to be content to forfeit so much money, rather than to cast his own wife into the fire; he answered, he would not lose or forfeit any thing for her sake. And so, like a murderer of his own wife, he carried her to the bloody bishop, where she was examined, and when she was found even more stout than she was before, death was threatened and she was sent to prison. Being thus kept in prison, and oftentimes examined, and ever found stout, at the length she was brought in judgment, and pronounced a heretic worthy to be burned. When the bishop reasoned with her, why she could not come to the mass, and receive the sacraments and sacramentals of the holy church: she answered, "Because I find not these things in God's word, which you so urge and magnify as things most needful for men's salvation. If these things were in the same word of God commanded, I would with all my heart receive, esteem, and believe them."

The bishop answered, "If thou wilt believe no more than is in the Scripture, concerning matters of religion, thou art in a damnable case." At which words she was wonderfully amazed, and being moved by the Spirit of God, told the bishop that his words were ungodly and wicked.

After her condemnation, she continued in prison for a year. All that time she was in prison, her behaviour was such both in words and deeds, that all they that had any spark of godliness or civil honesty, were greatly saddened that she should be put to death.

Now when the time did draw near which God had appointed for her deliverance, she said, "As for death, I do not greatly fear. When I behold the amiable countenance of Christ, my dear Saviour, the uglisome face of death doth not greatly trouble me." In the evening, before the day of her suffering, two of the priests of the close of Lichfield came to the under-sheriff's house where she lay, and sent word to her by the sheriff, that they were there to hear her confession: for they would be sorry if she should die without. She sent them word again, she had made her confession to Christ her Saviour, at whose hands she was sure to have forgiveness of her sins. As concerning the cause for the which she should die, she had no cause to confess that, but rather to give unto God most humble praise, that he did make her worthy to suffer death for his word: and as concerning that absolution that they were able to give unto her, being authorized by the pope, she did defy the same, even from the bottom of her heart. When the priests heard this they said to the sheriff, "Well, tomorrow her stoutness will be proved and tried: for although perhaps she hath now some friends that whisper encouragement in her ears, tomorrow we will see who dare be so hardy as to come near her." And so they went their ways with anger, that their confession and absolution were refused.

All that night she was wonderfully cheerful and merry, with a certain gravity, insomuch that the majesty of the Spirit of God did manifestly appear in her, who did expel the fear of death out of her heart; spending the time in prayer, reading, and talking with those that came to her, to comfort her with the word of God. About eight o'clock in the morning, Master Sheriff came to her into her chamber, saying these words, "Mistress Lewes, I come to bring you tidings of the queen's pleasure, that you shall live no longer than one hour in this world: therefore prepare yourself." After which she said, "Master Sheriff, your message is welcome to me, and I thank my God, that he has made me worthy." And thus Master Sheriff departed. And within the space of one hour he came again.

Now when she was brought through the town, a great multitude of people being present, she, being led by two of her friends, (which were Master Michael Reniger, and Master Augustine Bernher), she was brought to the place of execution. And after she had prayed several times, in the which prayer she desired God would most instantly abolish the idolatrous mass, and to deliver this realm from papistry. At the end of her prayers, most of the people cried, 'Amen.' Even the sheriff that stood by her, ready to cast her in the fire for refusing the mass, at this, with the rest of the people, said, 'Amen' when she had thus prayed. Then she took a cup of water into her hands, saying, "I drink to all them that unfeignedly love the gospel of Jesus Christ, and wish for the abolishment of papistry." When she had drunk, they that were her friends drank also. After that a great number, especially the women of that town, did drink with her; which afterward were put to open penance in the church by the cruel papists, for drinking with her.

When she was tied to the stake with a chain, she showed such a cheerfulness that it passed man's reason, being so well coloured in her face, and being so patient, that the most part of them that had honest hearts did lament, and even with tears bewail the tyranny of the papists. When the fire was set upon her, she neither struggled nor stirred, but only lifted up her hands towards heaven, being dead very speedily: for the under-sheriff at the request of her friends had provided such stuff, by the which she was suddenly despatched out of this miserable world. Joyce Lewis was burned at the stake at Lichfield on December 18, 1557. Her "crime" that was worthy of death? For refusing to take part in the Catholic Mass and calling it unbiblical.

This among other things may not be forgotten, that the papists had appointed some to rail upon her openly, and to revile her, both as she went to the place of execution, and also when she was at the stake. Among others there was an old priest, which had a pair of writing-tables, to note both the names of the women that drank of her cup, (as before you heard,) and also described her friends by their apparel, for presently he could not learn their names, and afterwards inquired for their names. And so, immediately after, process was sent out for them, both to Coventry and other places. But God, whose providence sleeps not, did defend them from the hands of these cruel tyrants. Unto which God, with the Son and the Holy Ghost, be honour and glory forever. A memorial to Joyce Lewis and Robert Glover was placed in Mancetter Church in 1833.

It is a broad fact that during the four last years of Queen Mary’s reign, no less than 288 people were burned at the stake for their adhesion to the Protestant faith.

In 1555, 71 were burned In 1556, 89 were burned In 1557, 88 were burned In 1558, 40 were burned Five martyrs were burnt in Canterbury only a week before her death.

Of all the stupid and suicidal mistakes that the Romish Church ever made, none was greater than the mistake of burning the Reformers. It cemented the work of the reformation and made Englishman Protestants by the thousands. When plain Englishman saw the church of Rome so cruelly wicked and Protestants so brave, they ceased to doubt on which side was the truth. Joyce Lewis is a good example of this. She began questioning Catholicism when the martyr Laurence Saunders was burned at the stake.

May the memory of our martyred Reformers never be forgotten until the Lord comes! Source: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joyce_Lewis http://www.exclassics.com/foxe/foxe368.htm

#Protestant Reformation #heroes #Joyce Lewis #martyrdom #burned alive #by order of the Roman Catholic Church

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missmouse94 · 5 years ago

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🌷IT'S REFORMATION MONTH 🌷

Here is one of these women:

Joyce Lewis (Jocasta Lewis) died in 1557 as an English Protestant martyr, burned alive at the stake for refusing to take part in the Catholic Mass and calling it unbiblical.

When the bishop reasoned with her, why she could not come to the mass, and receive the sacraments and sacramentals of the holy church: she answered, "Because I find not these things in God's word, which you so urge and magnify as things most needful for men's salvation. If these things were in the same word of God commanded, I would with all my heart receive, esteem, and believe them."

In the evening, before the day of her suffering, two of the priests of the close of Lichfield came to the under-sheriff's house where she lay, and sent word to her by the sheriff, that they were there to hear her confession: for they would be sorry if she should die without. She sent them word again, she had made her confession to Christ her Saviour, at whose hands she was sure to have forgiveness of her sins. As concerning the cause for the which she should die, she had no cause to confess that, but rather to give unto God most humble praise, that he did make her worthy to suffer death for his word: and as concerning that absolution that they were able to give unto her, being authorized by the pope, she did defy the same, even from the bottom of her heart. When the priests heard this they said to the sheriff, "Well, tomorrow her stoutness will be proved and tried: for although perhaps she hath now some friends that whisper encouragement in her ears, tomorrow we will see who dare be so hardy as to come near her." And so they went their ways with anger, that their confession and absolution were refused.

About eight o'clock in the morning, Master Sheriff came to her into her chamber, saying these words, "Mistress Lewes, I come to bring you tidings of the queen's pleasure, that you shall live no longer than one hour in this world: therefore prepare yourself."

After which she said, "Master Sheriff, your message is welcome to me, and I thank my God, that he has made me worthy." And thus Master Sheriff departed. And within the space of one hour he came again.

Then she took a cup of water into her hands, saying, "I drink to all them that unfeignedly love the gospel of Jesus Christ, and wish for the abolishment of papistry." When she had drunk, they that were her friends drank also. After that a great number, especially the women of that town, did drink with her; which afterward were put to open penance in the church by the cruel papists, for drinking with her.

Joyce Lewis was burned at the stake at Lichfield on December 18, 1557. Her "crime" that was worthy of death? For refusing to take part in the Catholic Mass and calling it unbiblical.

A memorial to Joyce Lewis and Robert Glover was placed in Mancetter Church in 1833.

It is a broad fact that during the four last years of Queen Mary’s reign, no less than 288 people were burned at the stake for their adhesion to the Protestant faith.

In 1555, 71 were burned

In 1556, 89 were burned

In 1557, 88 were burned

In 1558, 40 were burned

Five martyrs were burnt in Canterbury only a week before her death.

May the memory of our martyred Reformers never be forgotten until the Lord comes!

[Source: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joyce_Lewis

http://www.exclassics.com/foxe/foxe368.htm]

#reformation month #reformation #reformed #reformed theology #religion #church history #Christian #my faith

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spinningwebsandtales · 6 years ago

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A Vampire’s Bride (A Vampire John Wick AU)

Imagine living in a village where girls are sent up to appease a cruel bloodthirsty vampire every ten years and you’re the next victim.

Title: A Vampire’s Bride

Tags: Horror, Fluff, John Wick AU

Warnings: Intense descriptions, mentions of blood, death, and mentions of staking of the heart

Word Count: 5,059

(A/N:) Good morning minions and Happy Halloween!! I thought I’d surprise you this Halloween with the ultimate fic on Halloween for Halloween. What was supposed to be a small imagine blown up into a full fanfic! I’m quite proud of myself on this one and I just finished editing it last night, so I finished it and not a moment too soon to post it today. I woke a up a little earlier than normal so I could post it, cause I didn’t know if I was going to have time later. Ehehehe. Without any further ado welcome to my nightmare! Stay safe and may your Halloween bring you frights, treats, and wonderful horrors! Love Countess.

Your village was a quaint quiet place, where everyone knew their neighbor and always lent a helping hand. While your family wasn’t the richest in the village you weren’t the poorest. You lived an easy life and were quite the favorite amongst the young men of the village, only you were off limits. It wasn’t due to an overprotective father nor did you have any crippling disease that made you unwanted it was due to you being chosen as a young age to be married off. High above the village a castle stood watching and always waiting. Castle Continental didn’t take in visitors nor did anyone make the trek to see the owner who lived inside. In Castle Continental lived Count Jonathan Wick, a vampire who could only be appeased by having a young bride sent to him every ten years. You were chosen after the last girl went, everyone knew what happened to these girls but to keep the vampire upon the mountain appeased it was a sacrifice the village was willing to make. Tonight was the night you were going to be sent and your heart sank knowing that you were going to die. As you sat in a chair looking at your unmoving reflection in the vanity mirror you were primped and pampered for the Count like a doll.

“You look lovely,” one of the women complimented. Her statement went through one ear and out the other. You had no desire to be lovely, a corpse never cared if they were pretty, ugly, or anything of the like. You just knew that your cold corpse would be sent back the next evening, drained of blood, before buried in a coffin with a stake drove through your still heart.

“A lovely bride for a handsome count,” another piped in not wanting to be removed from any part of the one-sided conversation. Still you remained silent, looking beyond the mirror. Your once vibrant eyes were glazed over, like a doll’s. One last tweak of the hair and you were ready, and not a moment too soon as the sun was beginning to set. A carriage remained outside the building waiting for your arrival, the trek up to the top where Castle Continental would end around nightfall later in the evening. A perfect time to deliver a bride to the vampiric monster within. You breathed as much as your corset would allow you as you seated yourself on the plush cushions of the carriage. You remained alone inside the cab as the carriage driver sat outside guiding the horses to the destination.

No conversations were started, no jokes were told, nor any songs sung on the way to your doom. You were hoping at least the driver would ease the journey, but he was more concerned about the destination instead of the journey. So you sat in uncomfortable silence your heart hammering inside your chest in both fear and nervousness. A vampire bride, what a cruel hand fate had dealt you. Despite the situation you couldn’t bring yourself to cry, you cried enough the night you were chosen for the rest of your days. Your mother had weeped openly and she couldn’t be consoled, your father fought for another to be chosen only for him to lose. You sighed looking out the window at the dark skeletal remains of trees that had long ago shed their colorful leaves. You shivered in your bridal gown the feeling of being watched coming over you. The sun was holding on for just a moment longer until it moved over to let the moon shine upon the Earth. Wheels met cobblestone as your journey came to a close. The driver remained silent but the carriage creaked as he made his way down. Soles of his boots clacked on the stones and the door handle clicked. You couldn’t see his face as you stepped from the carriage, he bowed his head unable to look at you. He felt ashamed delivering you to death itself.

“Good luck m’lady,” he mumbled the first word he had spoke the whole journey. Closing the carriage door he left you alone to look up at the castle, the windows were darkened and the sky seemed to weigh down upon your shoulders.

Everything was quiet you almost felt like no one was home until you stepped forwards and the doors swung upon on squeaky hinges of it’s own accord. Fighting back the scream you held your head high and stepped across the threshold. You thought it funny you carried yourself over the threshold instead of your husband, but your marriage wasn’t going to be a happy one you knew, nor was it going to last very long. You almost spoke out trying to find any sort of presence that lived within the castle. Before one syllable could be uttered a man emerged standing above you on the steps.

“Good evening,” he spoke gently his dark skin shining in the candle light that seemed to emerge from no where. “I am guessing you are the new bride for my master?”

You nodded.

“Follow me please,” he nodded at you waiting until you conquered the flight of stairs. You felt eyes all around you and a presence you couldn’t quite place. It was as if the house was sizing you up, probably deciding how you were going to be killed. “I am the butler of this fine household, my name is Charon and the household manager is Winston. You will meet him very soon. He makes sure every detail is taken care of so the master doesn’t have to trouble himself. Wherefore I make sure guests are satisfied and the staff is doing their part in upkeep.”

“I see,” you spoke your voice cracking from your long silence.

“She speaks,” Charon teased stopping at a door. The door was large and took up the entire height of the wall, Charon knocked and just like the front doors this one seemed to open of it’s own accord as well. A large desk took up the middle of the room as two chairs sat unused by the fireplace. Paintings and animal trophies littered the walls, but the most impressive thing about the room was the floor to ceiling bookcases that took up both side walls. A silver haired man sat at the desk quill pen scratching at several papers before him. Charon cleared his throat and bowed in greeting.

“May I be of service,” the man who was clearly Winson spoke.

“The master’s new bride has arrived and I have come for your orders.”

Winston looked up from his paperwork. Removing his glasses his folded them and placed them neatly before him on the desk. “Place her in the same exact room as the other’s have been before her, have the maids bathe her, and dress her in crimson for master’s arrival.”

“But,” you stepped forward slippered foot barely making a sound over the lush carpet, “I’m already dressed and cleaned.”

Winston folded his hands, “I’m going to put this nicely, your perfume is appalling and master likes crimson.” The older gentleman smiled revealing pearly fangs. “As a vampire our sense of smell is sensitive and the women in your village bathed you in perfumes. We are doing no different than the last girls we acquired.”

“Okay,” you relented stepping back trying to hide yourself behind Charon. Charon bowed to Winston ready to do as he was ordered. Charon kept the door open to let you through when Winston cleared his throat as he still sat at his desk.

“I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

“(Y/N),” you bowed.

“Miss (Y/N),” Winston smiled warmly once again showing the fangs behind pale lips, “enjoy your stay for as long as you will be with us.” Chills ran up your spin at his words hearing the threat within that you wouldn’t be staying long.

“Thank you.” You bowed as well in farewell.

Charon closed the door behind you without another word, you knew that following him was expected of you.

Walking through the hall you noticed how Charon seemed to glide across the floor, his visage was pale and his presence bled strength. Instead of thinking about being in a castle surrounded by vampires you moved your attention to the decorations upon the walls. Oil paintings were placed strategically against the dark red colored walls, as thick drapes covered every window. The sunlight didn’t have a chance to bleed through any part of the windows. Lost in thought you didn’t notice Charon stop in front of a large decorative door until you ran into his back. He didn’t move an inch but you fell back holding your throbbing nose.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

Charon chuckled holding out a hand, “That’s okay. This place can be quite impressive, it’s hard to take everything in so quickly. If there’s time I wouldn’t mind giving you the whole tour. It just depends upon the master.”

“I understand. I’d like the full tour though, if I live that long.”

Charon nodded opening the door like it weighed nothing. Stepping back he gave you plenty of room to walk into your new bedroom. As the door closed behind you the room took your breath away. With a luxurious bed pushed up against the opposite wall, a balcony with curtains covering the window pane doors, plush carpets silenced your footsteps, and the atmosphere was calming thanks to incense burning in it’s holder. You allowed yourself for the first time to feel some sort of elation, running across the room you jumped landing upon the large bed with a bounce. Giggling quietly you touched the gown that had been laid across the blankets. A velvet dress of a deep blood red with black trim you couldn’t help but love the way it looked and felt. You ripped your hand from the material when gentle knocks rapped against the door.

“Come in,” you answered. Without a word the door opened and three pale young women stepped in.

“Excuse us,” they said in unison bowing to you. “We have come to help you with your bath.” One woman held a towel, another different soaps, and the last held a hairbrush and different hair pins. Without another word you let yourself be lead away. The bathroom down the hall was lit with lights and several candles, you were stripped of the white gown and placed into the tub. The water was still so warm it seeped into your aching muscles. With a sigh you leaned back wetting your hair and shoulders. The relaxation didn’t last long when one of the female vampires dumped water over you. You sputtered and they set to scrubbing. Before you knew it your hair was cleaned and you insisted that you could clean your body yourself. Leaving you for just a few moments of peace you soaked in the water trying to ignore everything that was set before you. A tear slipped down your cheek, despite all the lovely things that had been happening you were still terrified. What was this Count Jonathan going to be like? His workers seemed lovely though everyone you had met was vampires.

You stayed until the water turned cold, you were enjoying the quiet but you couldn’t lie to yourself that you were trying to buy time. The maids heard you exit the tub so they stepped in to wrap you in a towel and guide you to the vanity. You couldn’t help but feel deja vu creeping upon you as you had set before a vanity just this morning while the women of the village primped you. Unlike the towns women these three maids knew exactly what their master wanted and what he liked. Your hair was curled to fall in waves around your face, they painted your lips a ruby red, adding a little eyeshadow to make your eyes glow, lastly they helped you into the velvet gown. All laced up they stepped back from their work before the youngest looking maid stepped forward to pin a rose into your hair.

“Perfect,” her fanged smile caused you a sliver of fear but she backed away leaving you trembling slightly. Once again a knock was heard, one of the maids answered the door to reveal Charon.

“I hope your task has been completed because the master has asked for his bride. I do want to keep him happy.”

The remaining two maids moved aside revealing you to the butler who nodded in approval. Charon held out his hand to which you took. You couldn’t argue nor could you run as your heart pounded in both anticipation and fear. Charon kept holding your hand as he lead you down the hall to a chamber with a powerful aurora seeping through the door frame. You shivered holding your arms tightly around your body.

“Whatever happens,” Charon soothed, “it’ll be quick that I can promise.”

You couldn’t answer but tears were swimming in your eyes. Charon turned around leaving you at the closed door. You almost begged him not to leave but like a ghost he had disappeared, there you stood alone and frightened. Despite the fear standing before your husband-to-be’s bedroom door it was becoming quite awkward until the door slowly creaked open. Not seeing someone behind the opening of the door you became even more frightened.

“Enter,” a deep voiced echoed within. Despite your better judgment you entered into the darkened room as if in a trance. Halfway into the room the door closed leaving you in pitch darkness.

Your breathing quickened, terror gripping you in it’s tight hold. Hyperventilating you fell to the floor trying to crawl into yourself or the blackness around you. You wanted to disappear but despite the feeling you couldn’t. A presence made your skin crawl and when a hand touched your shoulder you leapt up with a cry. Scrambling away you hit your head upon a piece of furniture.

“St-stay away,” you screeched. Eyes darting around the room you cursed them for not getting used to the dark. The sound of a match being struck met your ears and illuminated a hand before the flame touched the wick of a candle illuminating the owner of that hand. Despite knowing what he was you thought how gorgeous he was. Black strands of hair brushed his broad shoulders, red eyes that seemed to penetrate deep down within you, he was tall, well built, and dressed all in black.

“No need to fear,” he cooed. His voice warm and smooth like honey, it had an effect upon you that you stood up from the floor. “I know you know of the fate of the other girls that has been sent to me. I do not deny what all I’ve done, but like any man I’ve have become quite lonely over the years. My existence is a sad one. Never dying always lonely.”

“You have others in this castle, that’s no reason to keep taking girls from my village.”

“That was to appease me, to slate my thirst every ten years. Do you know how many would have died if it wasn’t for the girls’ sacrifice?”

“Enough to appease you Count?” You shrank away at the look he gave you, the anger in your tone annoyed him.

“Most likely not.”

“And I the unwilling lamb brought to slaughter is now your next victim. Go ahead drain me! Get it over with I have been in misery since chosen for this homicidal deed. I can’t stop you,” you lifted your head exposing your soft throat. “Take my blood, toss me off the mountain. So I can be staked to my coffin and rot in the earth like all those other hapless girls did before me.”

He sighed his head dropping down in defeat. “I’m a monster, that I cannot deny. I thirst for blood, especially yours. Please hide your throat from me or I shall not be able to finish our conversation. Your very wish to be drained and tossed aside may come true if you keep enticing me.”

You lowered your head, tired of being afraid you stood before him in defiance.

“I tire of having one night with new company only to be overcome with thirst. You’ve lasted the longest of the girls that I have been sent. I long for companionship and I pray that you can give me what I long for most.”

“So you wish to keep me for several meals? I rather you take the one and let me die quickly,” you cross your arms still unwilling to budge. If you were to die you wanted it on your terms. Gone was the frightened young woman, your stubborn and argumentative side was rearing it’s head in the face of death causing the count to become flustered. The Count was upon you in an instant an inhuman scream ripping from his throat. With clawed hands gripping your upper arms he shook you. His elongated fangs dripped with saliva inching nearer to your throat. You screeched trying to break free. But his supernatural strength kept you in place.

“Is this what you so long for,” he growled lowly like a unholy creature of Hades. “To be killed by the beast within me? For a face of horror to be your last? What I offer is not several meals until I take your very life but to stay by my side for eternity. I long for a Countess to sit at my side to stay and keep me. I long for a family. But I would not simply make this decision for you,” he released you. “This will be your choice. And yours alone. Choose wisely.”

You trembled any fight you had left you, back was the terror you had felt at first. This was no ordinary man you faced, you knew that before but after seeing that display of power and monstrosity you regretted ever challenging him.

“I do not have an answer. May I think it over for awhile,” you fought to keep your voice from shaking.

Jonathan nodded, “Of course.”

“My name is (Y/N) by the way I suppose that I needed to introduce myself properly.”

John laughed. “It’s a pleasure (Y/N). As you already know I’m Count Jonathan Wick, but you can call me John. May we converse? I’d like to get to know you better.”

“As long as you don’t bite,” you teased still trying to calm your racing heart.

“Only if you ask me too.”

Lighting more candles John brought another chair close to the one he enjoyed sitting in. He called for tea to be brought up, the kitchen had stocked up for your arrival, which another maid you hadn’t meet brought to the bedroom. Jonathan took the tray like a gentleman and sat it before you. Instead of making you pour your own tea he set about filling the teacup before asking what you enjoyed in your tea. Answering every question calmly you took the cup from him before enjoying the first warm sip. You sighed seeming to melt in the chair. You hadn’t felt this comfortable since your bath. You felt his eyes upon you, clearing your throat you sat up straight blushing in embarrassment. How your mother would faint if she saw how you were acting in front of a man, though he was a vampire. You both discussed things, he told you of his past, you discussed books and told him your favorites, and conversed over various topics. Jonathan was very knowledgeable of topics that you enjoyed. Despite of still being wary of him you found yourself enjoying yourself. With amusement he watched you yawn and fight sleep. Dawn would be creeping upon the castle in just a few hours, he was surprised you lasted this long.

“Darling do you need to end our night now,” he asked.

You stifled a yawn again, “Oh no I’m very much enjoying it. I’d hate to end it now.”

“As you wish.” He agreed only because he knew that you were going to expire at any moment. Starting back into the conversation of the history of Castle Continental did you finally give up. You were asleep in no time soft snores leaving your lips. His shoulders shook in a silent laugh before scooping you from the chair. The door to his bedroom once again opened by itself, as did your bedroom door. Charon wished to take you from his master. He felt like he needn't bother with you but John wouldn’t hear of it. He wished to have you as his bride to stay with him forever he felt the need to watch out for you. Laying you upon the soft blankets he covered you before touching your warm cheek. He’d forgotten such warmth it felt like bliss to him. Kissing your forehead he left you to sleep.

You slept until mid afternoon, the sun was high above the castle and everything was silent. You were used to the bustle of the village that the silence seemed a little eerie. Though you felt silly, you were in a vampire’s castle. Moving your blankets your stomach growled. Down the stairs you went looking for the kitchen, you hated that you didn’t get that full tour Charon offered. Exploring seemed to be on your agenda with the goal in mind to find the kitchen. You roamed the halls finding a library, a restroom, living area, until finally about an hour later you found the holy grail of kitchens. Of course no one was around thanks to their vampiric nature, but you were not a helpless girl. You knew how to cook and clean. If anyone said anything about you cooking you’d just have to remind them that unlike them you were human and needed several meals. Despite it being around the hour for lunch you made breakfast. With your stomach full you were still quite curious about the rest of the castle. You decided to explore but quietly so not to disturb the workers or anger the Count in any way. Color rose to your cheeks as you remembered last night. Staying up late alone with him and to fall asleep in a chair in his bedroom. Hitting your cheeks you tried to rid yourself of such thoughts, you had things to look at and a decision to make. Who knew vampires could become lonely? You sure didn’t. You were fully aware you were sent here to be John’s next meal. Everyone was probably planning your funeral down at the village, your body was supposed to be returned tonight. What would everyone think when you weren’t returned dead or alive? Eternity was a long time and the choice of being turned was a scary one. Being a Count’s bride would have it’s perks especially seeing how gentlemanly he could be, plus handsome to boot. You couldn’t help but feel like a school girl when you looked upon him. If you decided to stay forever you wouldn’t have to fear anymore, after last night he didn’t seem so scary. Walking back up the stairs you began to go through the rooms upstairs. You did avoid Winston’s wing though, he seemed like the kind of vampire who did not liked to be disturbed. Though you figured every vampire frowned upon being woken during the sunny hours of the day. Upstairs there was several more libraries which you vowed to check out later, a sun room (which seemed silly in a vampire’s castle), with lots of bedrooms that varied in sizes. Going back to the library that was closest to your room you chose a couple books to take back into your room for reading. It would pass the time and though you didn’t have permission to use the library you figured this was a ‘better to ask for forgiveness than permission’ situation.

With a book the hours seemed to pass in seconds and before you knew it you were halfway through one book and evening had come upon Castle Continental once more. A light tap took your attention off the words.

“Come in,” you closed the book putting it on the bedside table. Johnathan glided through the door holding a platter with a dome on top.

“Good evening,” he spoke placing the platter on a table in the middle of the room. “Hungry?”

With reading taking your attention you hadn’t noticed how hungry you had gotten until John asked. That time your stomach decided to growl which caused him to laugh.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” As you sat down he took a seat across from you. “Did you sleep well?”

“Oh yes thank you.” You wolfed down the food and licked your fingers of any traces. Despite not knowing him long you felt comfortable around John. You could sense he felt the same though he did seem a little anxious and you figured you knew why.

“If I may ask did you think any more on my proposal?”

Scooting the table between you both out of the way you slid your chair closer to where your knees touched together. Knowing what he was asking and it being brought upon you so quickly it was a decision you couldn’t make lightly. Though you didn’t have many options. You could say yes and become a vampire. You’d never be abandoned and you couldn’t see the downside of having John as a husband. Secondly you thought about just returning home where you would be shunned. They thought you were dead by now and if you returned alive and well they would run you out of town. You’d be labeled a plague upon the people and the wrath of John would be upon them in minutes until a replacement could be found. Or you could do as you were sent to do. Sacrifice your life just like others had did. Johnathan waited in patient silence, though he was nervous. He knew he put you in a tough position, he just couldn’t take the suffocating loneliness no longer. What he hadn’t been planning on was a village girl be sent to him this year to be what he had wanted for so long. Taking your hands his red eyes seemed to plead.

“I’ve decided to stay. I’ll be what I can to you I just ask you protect me and you treat me like I deserve, and I promise to do the same for you.” You finally answered before your nerves got the better of you. John pulled you into his chest, if his heart beat he was sure it would beat out of his chest. Pulling you back he looked at you with love before pulling you into a kiss. Despite the coolness of his lips the kiss felt heated. You clung to his clothes before he trailed his lips down to your chin. His tongue grazed down your throat before resting above your jugular. Your grip tightened on him before his teeth punctured the skin. You yelped and he held you tighter, rubbing small circles upon your back. Your chest heaved as he drank deeply with his tongue resting against your skin it flicked back and forth. Pulling back from you with lips stained red he brought his wrist to his mouth. Ripping his flesh open he held it up to your lips as you swayed from the loss of blood. Lapping at the crimson liquid you drank your fill before John carried you back to your bed. Laying you down he laid next to you holding you tightly.

“Thank you,” he sighed stirring the hairs on your head. You couldn’t speak your mouth wouldn’t work and you were so far away. You fought to stay awake but lost the battle as everything went dark and you knew no more.

You didn’t know where you were at nor did you know who you were for a moment, and you couldn’t place the weight beside you. Hands moved up and down your body in a comforting gesture.

“How are you,” a voice said. You were still a little confused and your body felt weird. You felt more aware and a sense that had never been there before. Your throat was dry and there was a slight pain in your teeth. You touched your gums only to nick your finger on a sharp canine tooth. You watched blood well from the wound, licking the bead away you were amazed to see no cut remained.

“I feel a little odd,” you finally replied finding your voice.

“That’s normal with the change you just went through. But I’ve never been happier in my life.” You looked back, memories finally flooding back. You touched your neck to find that the puncture wounds that John left were gone and there was no trace to what had happened.

“You don’t regret it do you,” he asked a little fear bleeding in his voice.

“Regret my choice? Never. Regret that I decided to do it for you? Possibly.”

He seemed very hurt until he figured out you were joking around. “Now I’m regretting choosing you.”

“Too bad your stuck with me. So does this make me Countess Wick?”

He kissed you deeply pinning you down with his weight, though it didn’t hurt and you felt like you could pick him up with no problem.

“Of course,” he replied between kisses. You pulled him back down not wanting him far away from you. This new life was going to take some getting used to that was for sure. Though you looked forward to every moment.

After sending you up the mountain, no other girl was sent to appease the great Count Jonathan Wick. Rumors and stories traveled throughout the world about the young human woman who tamed a vampire. Girls didn’t fear coming of age no longer, everyone enjoyed peace.The lonely vampire who just wanted companionship finally gotten what he had longed for, for so long. You became one of the most powerful vampires in existence and you beared powerful pure-blooded vampire children. Your little family grew throughout the years and you never regretted once deciding to be with Jonathan. Nor did he ever think he chose unwisely. Everyone enjoyed peace and no one complained, especially you and John.

#John Wick / Reader #John Wick X Reader #Vampire John Wick / Reader #Vampire John Wick X Reader #John Wick #John Wick AU #Vampire AU #John Wick Imagine #Imagine #Baba Yaga #Not My Gif #My Writing #Happy Halloween

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shima-draws · 5 years ago

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Okay listen I really really enjoyed The Wonderland/Birthday Wonderland a LOT but there’s definitely like. Huge chunks of stuff that are missing from the plot that I would have loved to see;; SPOILERS AHEAD BEWARE

First of all let me say that this movie definitely would have worked better as a TV series. Why? Because the world itself is MASSIVE. There’s so much worldbuilding shit going on that they only got to touch a little bit of each section, and left so many things open ended. And then there’s the fact of the plot itself that leaves a lot of holes behind and unanswered questions.

Rest is under the cut so ya’ll can avoid spoilers if you so desire:

What the fuck happened with the sweater contest? They make it out to be such an enormous, important part of the plot that literally ends the moment Akane hands the sweater over. We see her protectively guarding it the entire journey to the city, and yet it’s never even touched upon if the sweater wins the contest or not. What happened bruh?? I want to know if it won, a lot of unnecessary screentime went into the development and story of that sweater! Don’t leave me hanging!

“Our world is dying”, Hippocrates says, as the majority of the land is still thriving pretty okay from the looks of it. Aight. There’s lots of gorgeous visuals in this film that are made clear through the gift of water that they’re living--and apparently there isn’t even enough water to go around for humans to drink. At that point literally everything else would be dried up, right? There is literally a giant pond--GIANT! With koi fish right outside the city. They just gotta learn to distribute their water better;; it’s a shitty system tbh lmao I mean there’s plenty to go around. They just don’t bother to try spreading it evenly, which is why some places are flourishing while others are not. They really should have spent more time showing how people are suffering from this rather than showing the remaining gorgeous parts of the land--that would have made the impact of saving that world that much stronger, made the stakes so much higher. If Akane had seen how bad it really got without water, maybe that would have driven her character development earlier on, and made it more significant.

Akane’s change. It felt...really...anti-climatic. Or maybe just rushed. It was a sudden, minor sort of thing that when I realized I was like “Oh, okay, she’s already come to the conclusion that she can be strong on her own, but I wanted to see that?” They didn’t execute it super well. It feels like we’re missing an entire scene where Akane finally breaks through her fear to gain courage and make her own choices. There was definitely a bit of that right before she made her grand speech to Zangu, but there was nothing that prompted it. The whole movie is a coming of age story for her, building up until the moment where she has her great breakthrough and is able to be confident with herself. But...they don’t show that. We don’t get to see that moment. I don’t know why, because it’s the most important thing of the entire film? They really could have handled that better.

I really wish they touched more on Midori’s involvement;; she was so minor I almost didn’t catch the connection between her and the previous Goddess of the Green Wind. I like that Akane feels closer to her because of this, but we never really get anymore information than that. How did Midori end up in Wonderland so many years ago? Was she a reluctant hero type like Akane, or was she determined to save the world? Did she meet Hippocrates way back then, or was it a different alchemist that lead her on an adventure? Was something wrong with the prince at the time which required her presence in order to make sure the drop rain ceremony went well, just like Akane? I don’t know! I want to know!

The ending was SO abrupt and short. Literally right after Akane and Chii get back that’s it bam roll credits movie over! I’m like. Whiplashed by it. I wanted to see how they were affected by the journey (besides Chii immediately going to take a nap which fandjksad MOOD), and how they’ve changed from their adventures. We obviously see a huge change in Akane at the end, but how does this affect her life in her own world? Does she start treating her friends differently? Does she ever make up with the girl she abandoned in order to be in the popular group (which is another huge thing they never came back to). Is she more determined to do things now, to be confident? Is this a change her mother notices? At least show the impact of what they went through;;

Halfway through the movie we’re introduced to a London-type city that’s really...not so fun looking. Dark, gloomy, and depressing, with obvious signs of poverty, where everyone looks angry all the time. It’s a very very clear outlier in the colorful Wonderland. I’d love to have seen more history on this city...why is it so different from the rest of the world, and so dark? Why do all the people seem so unfriendly, when those outside of its walls are generous and kind? How did this city come to be? It’s such an enormous mystery that they never talk about, besides hinting that this was where the prince had ended up once before he became Zangu.

Speaking of the lovely prince. I know we got kicked in the face with his backstory (and that shit hurted, this poor baby who also kinda deserved it but not to THAT degree), but I would have liked to see even more. Maybe I’m biased because he became my favorite character the instant his identity was revealed, idk. (And, to me, he feels way more fleshed out and rounded as a character regarding his development than Akane does, which is another reason why I like him best.) But while we were given his motivations in becoming Zangu, the personality difference between Zangu and his regular princely self is IMMENSE. I really don’t think the prince would have ever committed such acts--he may be a little shit and have a lot of anger issues (which, valid, I mean his parents died and he suddenly has all these huge expectations on his shoulders and he’s. He’s just a kid man, that HAS to be traumatic) but I really don’t think he would ever strike against his own people or openly threaten them. Sure, he’s definitely shown to be prone to angry outbursts, and is fond of pushing everyone who cares about him away, but he’s not purposefully malicious. And as soon as Akane transforms him back, he calms down immediately and becomes immensely selfless and heroic. So: why the enormous change of heart? I think something that could be canon that they never really mentioned is that, when he was transformed into Zangu, he became sort of a puppet. A lifeless doll without any real empathy, and the only emotions he could feel were a burning anger and a desire for revenge to those that wronged him and made him feel pressured to perform the drop rain ceremony. Being trapped inside a body like that probably just made those feelings escalate, resulting in all of the crimes he committed and all of the people he hurt. (And maybe they did touch on this but I just don’t remember since my memory is garbage lol)

Going off of that, I know this is the type of story where we follow the hero characters, and as soon as Chii and Akane made it home that was it, we weren’t allowed another peek into the Wonderland. But...what if we were granted that opportunity? Could we have gotten the chance to see how things changed after they left? Perhaps the prince began a journey traveling to all of the towns and villages he terrorized, and apologizing to the people. Maybe Ron starts to train under Hippocrates just like Pipo. Maybe the rain washed away all of the sorrow in that lonely city, which caused people to start to change it and make it brighter. Change, change, change! I want to see proof of Akane’s help!

Why the fuck did the other alchemist/sorcerer (I forget his name and there’s no info on him anywhere MDAKMASD I’ll update this when I find out later) do that to the prince?? That was SERIOUSLY fucked up. “Oh yeah, to punish this child for being naughty and angry after his parents died, which is actually perfectly reasonable, let’s turn him into a doll where he can’t MOVE OR SPEAK and let him sit there in absolute torture until I feel like setting him free again, instead of trying to find an alternative way to confront him about his anger issues”. Dude;; No wonder he was so fucking angry and bitter when Ron finally allowed him to speak again. I would be too! Trapping children in naughty doll prison is not the answer!

I’m trying to think of more but I think I covered most of it :’) If ya’ll have anything to add, please do!

Like, overall, the movie was GREAT. It would have been even better if they didn’t shove so much information into it that ended up becoming irrelevant later on. It felt as if they were trying to cram a TV series into a movie, trying to cover all of their bases but failing. There’s just so many things they left open-ended and unanswered;; and you know me, I’m a slut for lore like this so I want to know EVERYTHING. And I only got little bits and pieces of it. I really would kike to know if they just cut out large portions of the movie to fit the time limit and the budget;; because that would make a lot of sense, because it feels as if I was handed a puzzle without all the puzzle pieces.

#Basically Shima goes off about everything she wanted to know about this movie #The Wonderland #Birthday Wonderland #Long post #バースデー・ワンダーランド #Shima speaks #Spoilers

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uhxrp · 5 years ago

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site plot

hey everyone! beneath the cut is our plot!! we did put this on a read more because it’s a little lengthy, but we hope that you are as excited to release this as we all are. we cannot wait to here your thoughts and hope that this spurs your interest in our little passion project just that much more. Our official timeline and subplots will add more context to this but without any further explanation from me, here’s our plot.

EARLY 2005

Documents, with letterheads reading ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ in the boldest of crimson, flood webpages.

Who thought this junk up? The tech-savvy laugh in forums as they look upon this latest hoax; documents that reveal a pharmaceutical corporation experimenting with synthesised blood to supplant a vampires’ lethal hunger, under the guise of blood transfusion research. It all seems about as plausible as Roswell.

But a vampire appears on Fox News that evening. Under the hot studio lights, they capture a creature of fiction; a leech with blood lining his sharp white fangs and an empty vinyl Type-O blood bag between his palms.

The headline becomes clear.

YOUR MONSTERS ARE REAL.

People bolt their doors that night and keep their shotguns close to their chests; up and down streets curtains twitch, spilling lines of light across front lawns, as people look out and wonder which neighbour is false.

Which neighbour has no fear of the night.

Out of the shadows, others emerge; from beasts that run beneath the moonlight to the pellucid shades of souls—vagrants blown from the natural path of death. From the deep water, the sea folk rise. Dripping with beads of water, they leave behind their gossamer fins and beautiful glistening scales as they reach the dark earth. Between the hazy flickers of candlelight and the watery reflections of mirrors, the Fey manifest; the shrill of bells and chiming clocks announcing their passage from Realms beyond.

The righteous stand before the courthouses, fists thumping against their chests, and they cry, take back our world! While old tattered men stand on street corners, chaining cardboard signs around their necks that pronounce the end is nigh in bold black lettering, as they stare down passing drivers. Between the church pews the believers seek sanctuary, bathing in the soft lights of the stained glass, as they ask God—why have the wicked been granted eternal life instead of eternal fire?

In a storm ditch, they find whistle-blower’s body. Charred patches mar his body; the heat condensing in the cold morning air, swirling up from his sun-roasted skin, and dissipating in the breeze.

Murder, some call it, their voices angry as sundown comes around. Their frayed nerves reeling at sight of the corpse in every news clip, as the last smoking embers of hate spiral up into the dusky sky.

Vengeance, the blood-thirsty say, as their pyre seethes high into the night's sky and an effigy of the fanged monster roasts over a stake. With weapons drawn in their palms, the mob stand ready, crowing with delight, waiting to take more.

Justice, the creatures whisper, the smells of burning bridges in their wake. A just dessert, a last laugh, before the fearful bring reckoning upon their doors. They curse those who tore down the veil of secrecy, leaving them marooned under a spotlight.

Innocent, quiet voices in the background claim, their calmness engulfed up by roars of violence and snarls of contempt.

Red burns across the sky next morning — a herald for violence in the atmosphere, a sign to take passage from the incoming storm.

+++

PRESENT

With the dawning of supernatural beings fifteen years ago, two distinct group have emerged; those who want to share their world with their outed neighbors and those who would see their corpses rotting by the side of the road.

Many humans found themselves fearful of the new world, the nightmares of childhood clinging in the back of their minds. Some turned to the hunters for protection; reporting on the folk down the street who were never quite right, watching behind the safety of their windows as their saviours broke down the doors of monsters.

But in New Orleans a social movement started; from a group of humans who saw this emergence as calming, attuning with the comforting thought that magic exists deeply in the world around them. When the violence broke out across the States, many supernaturals fled to the crescent city, to the gazes of friendlier humans, and the safe harbor their fellow creatures had carved out. An underground network only they could find.

After a decade of uprisings and riots, the political world was forced to grant supernaturals liberties under the Supernatural Being Protection Act of 2017. Yet with that came many changes, from Walmart openly selling cauldrons in kitchen gadget aisle, to funeral homes offering you a healthy chuck of cash to feed grandma to the sirens. New political parties have arisen from grassroot activism, gathering support from endangered communities, and going head-to-head in the political arena to further increase protections.

Long-forgotten feuds have reignited again between the species, with many begrudging they were forced from the shadows and left to the mercy of government lists and hunters. With hunters integrating into police forces, in case any supernaturals go off the rails, many suspicious deaths are piling up. With each new supernatural death taking the graph higher, the supernaturals are claiming back the streets in anger.

And with the upcoming third anniversary of the Act, many on the anti-supernatural side see this as a moment to take back their world. On the streets, the groups clash, with citizens stuck in the middle of the growing war.

The sky, once again, is turning an unholy red.

#unhxlyrp #updates #plot

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lightshielded · 5 years ago

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verse / golden aegis

— he was in a place he'd been before, far from home, at the lonely crossroads of life and death: he stood at the precipice of eternal peace, the gateway of slumber; he reached out, as he had many times before, to feel its warmth on his skin. someday... not yet.

born the prince of demacia, heir - apparent of the lightshield family line and scion to the spiritmights, he was expected to be everything which embodied their people: honourable, loyal, strong, passionate, intelligent, a leader, and, last but not least, not a mage. while he proved to be all of the former, the prince could not deny the magic in his blood.

the discovery of his gifts had come young, and unintentionally. those of royal standing were no strangers the the threats of cloaks and daggers. in a moment of panic, a shimmer of light had misdirected a blade into the space beside him, a hair thin line between him and the steel. fortunately the focus was on apprehending the offender that none had noticed the slight shimmer pushing the blade aside, but the young prince had surely noticed. and the wide eyed and confused face which brought his father to comfort him was not from the attempt on his life.

growing up, both expectations and stakes were high, having to balance the many tutors for academics, language, combat and etiquette as well as hide his magical nature. while he grew up in a house hold which openly supported mages ( a fact which eventually gave him to confidence to voice such a discovery to his family ) and was never truly taught the anti - magic rhetoric common in his nation, the fear of his discovery and the tarnishing of his family’s name weighed heavy on him.

constantly, he walked the fine line between his secret remaining so and the fulfilment of his duties. he wore a fine mask, not just to hide one’s emotions but to hide himself, and he played the part as well as any actor. however, during combat such traits could not help but leak out and he found himself honing his skills without notice on the battlefield. and it was there he tapped into much of his known potential, and it was what saved him in his darkest moments.

but from those moments came a new light, a chance to live without shame with the meeting with his new half - dragon friend. with her came a freedom to share his deepest held secret, a chance to hone these skills openly and without fear, and a friend who he knew would never judge him. returning home victorious, he returned and resumed his royal duties,now seeing a demacia which would accept them both as possible. and so he swore to uphold demacian ideals by building a nation that valued each one of its citizens, uniting them together against whatever threats they faced.

inspired by his abilities effects in game and old lore: his magic is can be summarised as energy transference. he can take energy from those around him and also provide energy to those around him. this largely manifests as making opponents lethargic in his immediate vicinity causing them to have slower movements and slower reactions to varying degrees. this stolen energy can be used for himself, improving his physical capabilities and being able to create a defensive barrier of this energy which appears as a glimmer of gold across his skin.

finally, the last usage of this magic that he is aware of is the funnelling of the energy into other people. stealing energy from others, or offering his own, people find their own energy reprehension and their motivation increased. most will chalk the acts they see his men commits as a result of good moral, which it is impart, but his gifted energy plays additional in this achievement. truly, his magic is not particularly powerful in its current state nor does he know the full extent of his magic for the time being. however, it is a versatile skill which will grow in strength and utility with practise.

theoretically, with enough practise, it is feasible to think healing or death could be directly wrought with his magic. however this is neither something he knows it could do or he is practised enough to do.

— eyes shut, a sound grew from inside him, somewhere deeper than the body, deeper than the soul: it rippled outward, unfolding and cresting; it burst from his heart, burned through his veins, ignited his muscles; when it escaped his lips, it was a living thing, as formidable and furious as the blades snipping at his flesh.

#there we go #just a verse based on old lore #in the setting of new lore #( also those paras are almost word for word from his old lore )#( just changed ravens to blades haha. no swainy here )#— golden aegis `#— verses `

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victorluvsalice · 5 years ago

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AU Thursday: Tell Me Where To Find Shelter -- Weird And Complicated Video Game Crossover AUs Strike Again

Okay, so last week I offered you all an updated rewrite on my old Fallout 4 Sole Survivor!Victor AU, Tell Me Where To Find Shelter. And at the very end of said update, I let you know that I had an idea for fitting Alice into the AU --

Specifically, my Malkavian Alice from Vampire: the Masquerade -- Bloodlines.

Look, the fact of the matter is, Fallout 4 and Bloodlines have been rather closely connected in my head from day one of my purchasing them -- hell, I got them during the same Steam sale! (Along with the BioShock series entire, which is why I had a couple of posts about Tell Me Where to Find Shelter back in 2016, then it dropped off the face of the earth -- I played Bloodlines first, and followed up with that series.) And my “Londerland Bloodlines” playthrough of Bloodlines was done concurrently with my starting up Fallout 4, so -- yeah. Me wanting to figure out how to cross the two over was probably inevitable.

I know what you’re all thinking, of course -- “how the hell do you make this sort of crossover work?” Well, I have had a few ideas:

-->This version of Malkavian Alice and her adventures in 2004 Los Angeles would be much more like the standard fledgling’s, given that the Corpse Bride characters are now born in the future. So the person she saves in the hospital is Heather (who she does manage to send away in time to save her life), and the Giovanni party goes down without dragging an undead version of Lizzie into the mix. Obviously the story and setting would have to be tweaked to fit better into Fallout’s alternate history (though given what the computers in the original game are like, maybe that’s easier than expected). She still goes Independent, and escapes from Los Angeles in the wake of LaCroix’s explosive death, making her way slowly but surely to the East Coast because she has had enough of California and everyone there.

-->She manages to get on with her unlife, watching the growing tensions with China and the Resource Wars with unease, but keeping to herself and doing her best not to let her humanity slip as she gets older. When the bombs fall, she’s sleeping the day away in a basement bunker she set up in Boston -- but the destruction from the explosion ends up collapsing part of the ceiling, burying her in rubble -- with a chunk of timber piercing her heart. She ends up in a staked torpor. . .

-->Until Victor shows up at her location at night to clear out a few raiders who are taking over the place as a base. One of the raiders yanks out the stake to use as a weapon, has three seconds to wonder why it’s got fresh blood on it -- then Alice explodes from her centuries-long hiding place and drinks him dry. Victor is too stunned at first to actually shoot her, and once Alice’s blood thirst has been quest, she immediately puts her hands up and does her best to show she means him no harm. They talk, Alice explains what happened (and goes ahead and admits she’s a vampire when Victor explains about the nuclear apocalypse -- who gives a shit about the Masquerade when the world has ended?), she offers to help with the remaining raiders to prove her good intentions, Victor accepts, and they take down the assholes together.

-->Obviously, Alice isn’t immediately “unlockable” as a companion -- she’s still got her sunlight thing, after all! She and Victor chat about it, and Victor, feeling bad, offers his assistance. Alice accepts -- she misses the sun -- and says that she’ll stay where she is for the moment (after finding a non-partially-collapsed basement to stay in) and keep raiders and monsters out while he searches for information. And so the “Here Comes The Sun” quest begins, with Victor searching for a way to counteract the sunlight curse! I’m thinking this would end up interacting with the Cabot family stuff, because I don’t think it would be hard at all to change the source of their immortality, and the artifact upon Lorenzo’s head, from something alien to something vampiric. Maybe Lorenzo’s partially possessed by the spirit of an Antediluvian, and it’s turned his blood into something close enough to vitae it can make ghouls? At any rate, Jack manages to whip something up after examining some of Alice’s blood (which, naturally, she’s kind of nervous about, but what choice does she have?), and it successfully stops her from burning up in sunlight (though she is weaker in it). A grateful Alice thanks Victor (and Jack) and agrees to travel with him to experience the Commonwealth.

-->As they go on together, they end up getting closer -- Alice likes that Victor is generally a good guy and sympathizes with the story of his lost family; Victor likes Alice’s snarky wit and strong sense of justice. As they share more details of their lives, help out the settlements, and battle monsters together, they realize they’re growing feelings for each other, and eventually get together, facing off against the Institute as a couple and parenting Synth Shaun/Chester together afterwards. (Alice jokes a lot that it took both her dying and the end of the world in general to finally get a domestic happy ending.)

-->Alice’s starting clothes would be a simple blue dress and apron with black buckled boots (the dress would naturally have a big bloody hole right over her heart when she first wakes up; she patches this after you leave her to her own devices for a bit), and she’d have the Tal’Mahe’Ra Blade (her prize from her storming of the Hallowbrook Hotel, taken from Andrei’s lair) as her standard weapon. She has a unique bite attack, being a vampire, and can still use Obfuscate (turning invisible to sneak past/sneak attack enemies) and Dementation (inflict debuffs on enemies so they’re confused and can’t shoot straight, or kill a single enemy from fear alone), though both have a cooldown so Victor can’t rely on her just spamming that to take care of every raider for him! XD Her perk would allow you to drain blood from enemy corpses (which other companions would find less disturbing than outright cannibalism, but still fairly creepy) and/or increase the healing capabilities of blood packs. I’m thinking, once romanced, she’d also have a unique variation of the “Lover’s Embrace” temporary perk, “Love Bite” -- Victor wakes up with HP not fully restored, but the XP boost is greater than “Lover’s Embrace” (+20% vs +15%).

-->Other vampiric elements of the Commonwealth would include:

A) That blood bank you can find? Those bags of blood are warm and fresh because there’s a Tremere there who has built up their power and knows some rituals for preserving the stuff. Unfortunately, they’re also very low humanity by this point, so they end up being a nasty surprise fight.

B) There’s a secret settlement of vampires that is made up of all the various fledglings you could pick from in Bloodlines, having learned to live together after the destruction of vampire society along with human when the bombs fell. The local Tremeres managed some blood sorcery that infused a mutfruit tree with human blood, so plasma fruit, a la The Sims 4, is a thing for them, and allows them to live in relative peace with their human neighbors (though they’ll happily drain anyone who attacks them). They’d probably have a quest revolving around either talking down or killing some vampire hunters who have been eying their base, and they could be persuaded to allow Jack Cabot and family to study them in exchange for vitae to help them stay in their immortal states. Also, the Malkavians openly call Victor the “Sole Survivor” and offer roundabout tips on his quests -- if he can decipher them. XD

C) This is just one that amuses me -- this universe’s Mysterious Stranger is none other than good old Caine! He’s trying to be a little more helpful to mortal and Kindred alike in the post-apocalypse, and has decided this means “showing up randomly to help people out of tight spots before vanishing again.” Alice, upon seeing him, jokes that the cabdriver thing didn’t work out, huh?

D) I’d kind of like to make stimpacks developed from vampire or ghoul blood to explain just how it is they can heal crippled limbs so fast -- the wiki didn’t provide much of an answer there! Which means anyone who uses them is at least slightly a ghoul. . .which might explain a few things about carry weight and why some enemies are so tough. (Legendaries have more vitae in their system, prompting the power-up, maybe?)

So yeah -- that’s how I’d get Bloodlines and Fallout to work together, and thus have my Malkavian!Alice and Sole Survivor!Victor be a couple in the wasteland. Because why make a crossover simple when I could make it way more complicated than it needs to be? XD Look, I just like the mental images I have of them together -- and of Alice taking out a whole army of baddies by hitting them with Voice of Bedlam to throw them into absolute chaos.

#tell me where to find shelter #fallout 4 #vampire the masquerade bloodlines #vtmb #valice #weird ass AUs #look this was probably inevitable #given the whole 'Londerland Bloodlines' fic keeping my brain at least partially in vampire land #and the fact that I just really love vampire!Alice with Victor #still this is a lot of thought for an AU #that is going to be snippets of fic at BEST #I can only novelize one RPG #and it's going to be the one with a smaller world and fewer sidequests #still I like a lot of these ideas #and the resultant mental images #'Voice of Bedlam' is the top tier Dementation ability in Bloodlines btw #it inflicts all the below levels randomly on the target and anyone near them #so you'd have people laughing or crying maniacally #people experience weird hallucinations that drop their combat abilities #people just plain old dying of fright #and people attacking each other randomly #(naturally Alice would activate it via a Hysteria scream)#she'd be the most terrifying thing in the Commonwealth #I love it :D #as does Victor XD #queued

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nadineselfships-archived · 6 years ago

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The Scorpion & The Frog

A/n: so I went overboard with whatever this is because I’m obsessed with @space-sweetheart and Michael now ajdjfjf I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO CALL THIS BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ALEXYS HHHH-

• When Michael’s men brought you to him he was perplexed, they’d found you wandering the Mountains but he knew he’d never seen you in Hope Country before

• He didn’t see you as any threat, you were small and didn’t really look like you could use a gun

• So he did what he normally does when things occur and asked Remiel what to do about you

• She told him that he should keep an eye on you, seeing as you managed to get here without anyone noticing they were both intrigued

• And so Michael agrees, if not a bit annoyed to become a babysitter for an outsider

• But Michael takes keeping an eye on you to the next level so the next thing you know you’re by his side 24/7

• He takes you from his bunker to his ranch and begrudgingly shows you the guest room you’d be staying in

• He doesn’t bother locking any doors because if you do run off he knows he’ll be able to find you

• His hearing may be bad and his limp makes hunting stealthily a tad more difficult but he’s nothing if not persistent

• Also you seem pretty content being with him for the most part, if not intimidated and wary of him, as is only normal

• The first few weeks having you with him is strange for him, he’s used to doing everything alone but now suddenly he has this soft little lady at his back that he needs to watch out for

• You are a lot more help then his men he notices, you point out things you hear that he can’t so well and pick things up off the floor so he won’t trip over it

• He’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate it

• You don’t get in his way and you don’t prattle his ear off like most people and he appreciates that too

• He falls in front of you once, you’re in the Mountains going to check on a trap he laid down when his knee gives out

• He hits the ground hard but luckily the ground you’re on is mostly flat so he doesn’t roll anywhere, it was a bitch when that happened

• His pride is hurt more than he is, he can feel the embarrassment of looking weak in front of his supposed captive wash over him like a hot fire

• You step closer but he sees you hesitate, he knows no one willingly tries to get close to them if they can help it

• He contemplates his options before deciding the least humiliating one would be for you to help him up

• So sucking up the last bit of pride he has he turns to look up at you, his usually cold green eyes tinted with pain and embarrassment, and reaches his hand out to you

• “You gonna stand there staring at me all day or are you gonna help me up?”

• He doesn’t talk about it after that and you don’t talk about how he leant on you for support the rest of the walk

• It’s probably after that when he begins to pay more attention to you

• Noticing just how long your hair is and how the sunlight hits it and makes it look so soft

• How your eyes light up with your smile, a smile that was doing a good job of knocking the air out of Michael’s lungs whenever he saw it

• His eyes trace your figure a little more often than he’s proud to admit

• You’re so kind, Michael notices, so soft and sweet to the people you interact with

• Even to him, which baffles him at the best of times

• He’s so convinced that he’s a monster, a broken soldier that couldn’t even protect his family

• He knows he’s cruel, he knows he’s dangerous

• But when you gently take his hand for the first time to steady him when you notice him wobble unsteadily, he feels soft

• His heart aches in a beautiful way and his skin ignites where you touched him, he betrays himself by indulging in the feeling greedily

• You get more comfortable with each other and Michael let’s you wander off on your own

• You’ve walked around the mountains with him enough that he’s confident you won’t get lost as easily

• You’re stake on his ranch has grown from the guest room and a bathroom to most of the living space available

• It was a rough change, getting used to having someone in the ranch with him

• He’d snapped at you a few times in the beginning, his hearing made it easy to accidentally sneak up on him even if you weren’t meaning too

• He’d always regret snapping afterwards, seeing the flash of fear in your eyes made his stomach churn and he quickly learnt how to tell when you were coming so as to avoid being surprised by you

• Michael is happy to have you more comfortable in his ranch in the later days, waking up to you in the kitchen is a heavenly sight and he lingers in the doorway to admire you longer than he’d admit

• He also catches himself admiring your sleeping face longer than he’d admit if you fall asleep on the couch

• He realises he may be in love with you when he spots you near the Henbane River talking to a cult member

• They’re being friendly, everyone already aware you’re under Michaels care at that point

• It should be fine, Michael shouldn’t feel a burning rage in his veins as he watches you smile that beautiful smile at them

• Or want to snap their neck as they make you laugh that angelic laugh that makes Michael’s heart race when he hears it

• Michael tries to brush it off, he’s not a good enough man to deserve having you as his after all

• But this doesn’t stop him from glaring holes into the souls of whoever so much as looks at you

• It starts to grate on him really bad so he takes his favourite leather jacket and wraps it around your shoulders one day

• Your confused gaze is infuriatingly adorable and Michael has to clear his throat before he can speak

• “It’s getting cold, you’ll need it.”

• He’s a man of few words, especially when your looking at him wrapped up in his much too big jacket

• He’s almost giddy as people back off quite a bit when you start wearing it around

• He’s started calling you nicknames, little frog, little dove and peu d'amour are the three he uses most (did I mention he’s fluent in french and german)

• You asked him what the last one means the first time he used it but he only gazed at you softly before petting your head and walking away (it means little love, because you’re his little love uvu)

• At this point Michael has gone through all seven stages of denial and acceptance and realises he can’t keep staring at you longingly from a distance

• He doesn’t have many people to go to advice nor will he actively ask for it but James, Nadine and Remiel aren’t blind and are very happy to give their opinions on what he should do

• He goes with James idea which is a nice dinner

• He sends you out to get something from James (that he doesn’t need but needed to get you out of the ranch) and cooks up a really nice dinner

• He also decorates the table and borrows some candles from Nadine

• He even puts flowers in a vase, he’s embarrassed as all hell but when you walk in and your eyes light up he knows it was absolutely worth it

• He put on a nice button up brushed his hair, he pulls out your chair, is smiling the entire time and allows himself to give you all the compliments he’d been keeping to himself

• He’s definitely gonna kiss you, it’s been months at this point and you look so pretty in the candle light how could he not?

• You’re in the kitchen and he turns you around, He cups your face in his hands and looks you in the eye, waiting for any resistance or refusal

• When he doesn’t get it he leans in and kisses you with the passion that’s been building over time, he holds you steady and kisses you until your lips are swollen and you’re gasping for air

• It’s the first of many rough and passionate kisses, which mainly happen in the privacy of his ranch or bunker

• He’s on cloud nine, he finally gets to call you his and bare his teeth at anyone who he deems a threat

• You melt into his touch and he loses himself in yours

• He’s more confident in touching you in general, pulling you by the hem of your shirt or belt loops so he can kiss you

• Leading you by placing his hand on the small of your back

• Picking you up and carrying you whenever he feels like it

• And when he starts to feel the pricks of jealousy again he starts leaving marks along your neck and collar bone

• You get flustered when people see them but he grins smugly, proudly letting people know who you belong too

• Everyone can see Michael’s softened up because of you, he’s still a lethal threat to his enemies but he smiles more openly, genuinely

• The first time you sleep in his bed and he wakes up to your content face he nearly cries

• Michael’s cried very few times in his life but as he stroked your cheek and watched you breathe so softly beside him he teared up for sure

• He couldn’t fathom an angel like you loving a cruel beast like him and yet here you were, curled up to his side

• He made a silent vow that morning, nothing would ever harm you, no one would get the chance to touch a hair on your head, he would protect you until his last breath

• The first time you say you love him is another moment he nearly breaks down, you’re sitting on top of a mountain watching the sunset

• Your sitting in his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck and you kiss his cheek before mumbling the words into his neck

• He’s frozen from shock, he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just tightens his grip on you and rests his chin on the top of your head

• He’s never heard those words from anyone but his siblings, something about the way they sound from your lips lift a weight off of his shoulders

• He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and lifts your head so he can look you in the eye

• “I love you too.”

• He’s never meant those words more in his life and he hopes every time he says them you feel it in your heart that he means them

#self insert #self ship #fc5 #oc x oc #fc5 reverse au #my art #doodles #The Scorpion & The Frog #nadine writes stuff #art and writing i am head deep into this ship y'all ;;v;;#ALEXYS MICHAEL ADORES YOU AND HE'S GONNA LOVE YOU FOREVER #You're his angel and he's gonna kiss you and love you and give you the entire world #Michael Sinclaire

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nifflersfancy · 6 years ago

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Bite The Curb

[Inspired by Rostered On, featuring Sassy Remus. I don’t know what else to say. I wrote this within like 30 minutes and checked it very briefly, don't kill me. Enjoy??

Read it here on AO3]

Remus could hear her coming. Everyone could. Everyone in the building had known where she was and what she was doing from the moment that she entered the small and overpriced shop that Remus worked at.

They sold DVDs, games, game consoles, DVD players, phones, laptops and various other consoles and forms of technology. They were like a CEX but full-priced. Remus thought it was a stupid idea but they were the only place willing to hire a sarcastic arsehole teenager with no experience. He was now a sarcastic 22 year old arsehole that was stuck in a job that he hated.

She had slammed the door open so harshly that Remus had checked them for damage when she wasn’t looking. He had never seen the woman before, although did kind of recognise the younger lad that was with her. Not from coming in the shop but there was a lot of shops down the high street. Perhaps he was a regular or worker to one of them.

“I’m a bit concerned.” Remus didn’t even look up when he heard the familiar voice speak those familiar words. Peter was always worried about something, especially since he had found out that their boss, Horace, was planning on making Peter Assistant Manager soon. Remus had assured him that the old man had planned on changing Peter’s position when the shorter lad was barely skating by and doing the bare minimum but he wouldn’t hear it. He did everything he could to prove that he was management material.

Now, Peter went out of his way to make sure that everything ran perfectly in the store and it truly did make a difference. Sales had gone up, thefts had gone down, the shop was cleaner and everyone was happier. Apart from Remus, who was usually put on the shop floor, where he wouldn’t have to face the customers as much and his interactions with them went as far as pointing them in the right direction.

“About what? I’ll behave, I promise.” They were understaffed today, for the first time in a long time, meaning that Remus was helping on the tills with Peter whilst Marlene and James were testing consoles and DVDs/games. When it would get quiet, Remus would be freed to go on the shop floor until it got busy.

“Not about you.” Peter tutted, fiddling with a pen in his hand nervously. “Her. That woman.” Remus then looked up and saw that Peter was subtly nodding towards the obnoxious woman and her son. Remus scoffed.

“Why? They stopped burning witches at the stake in like 1693, she’ll be fine.” He muttered sarcastically with an eye roll as the labels that he was printing began to come out of the machine. He checked them all briefly as they came through. He merely smirked when he felt Peter hit him on the arm. Before Peter could scold him, he had to address a customer.

“Hi, how are you?” He greeted in his usual cheery voice, a polite smile on his face. Remus looked up, raising a brow as an xbox was dumped on the counter in front of them, clearly shoved into its box.

“Not too good, actually. I need to return this. Now.” Remus looked back down, already annoyed by the woman’s very clearly fake smile and sharp voice. As if whatever was wrong was Peter’s fault. Remus had no poker face at all and knew that the displeasure was clearer on his face than it was on the awful woman’s.

“Okay, no problem! I can do that. What’s wrong with it?” Peter asked, pulling the box closer, logging into their system and then scanning the box whilst simultaneously putting the xbox more neatly into the box.

“It’s broken. It doesn’t work.” The woman said, as if it were obvious. Remus rolled his eyes, sure that the woman wouldn’t see but was surprised to hear a short laugh that was quickly covered by a cough. The lad around Remus’ age, clearly her son or a relative, given their shared looks, stood beside her and was watching Remus closely. Although unlike the cold look in the ghastly woman’s eyes, the young lad appeared to be holding back laughter, his eyes shining with amusement.

Remus looked down, unsure of how to react, and kept checking the labels as they all stood in silence for a few moments before Peter spoke up again.

“It doesn’t seem to be scanning.” He said with a frown. Remus looked over and held a hand out, taking the scanner from Peter, who let it go willingly so that Remus could have a go. He did everything he could to scan it as the conversation continued.

“Well, what does that mean?”

“It means it’s not in our system.” A brief pause as Peter looked over at Remus, who was now aggressively trying to get it to work with a scanner from another till. “When did you buy it?” He questioned when Remus gave up, putting the xbox back on the counter between them but now watched the interaction openly between them, refusing to look the son in the eyes. He could feel his stare. “When did you buy it?”

He met his eyes for a second and, very maturely, pulled a funny face at the other lad, which only got him a grin in return. Why had he thought that would get him to stop staring? He turned his attention back to the conversation.

“Well… I don’t know.” The woman tutted. “Look, can you hurry this, I’ve got a lot to do today.” Well, Remus had nowhere to go for another two hours and he knew that Peter didn’t finish for another five so they could drag it out for as long as they wanted if she didn’t stop being so rude.

“Alright, sorry.” Peter somehow managed to sound so cheery as he smiled at the woman. Remus would have told her to fuck off by now, had he been in Peter’s position. “Have you got a receipt?”

The woman looked at him with a look that clearly showed how stupid she thought that idea was. “Well, I don’t think so. I don’t hang on to every piece of rubbish I find.” She scoffed.

“Well, we can’t really do anything without a receipt for proof of purchase.” Peter said apologetically, looking at Remus unsurely, as if he thought that Remus would have a better answer than ‘fuck off’.

“Look, I don’t have time for this. I spend a lot of money here, you know!” She announced loudly, clearly trying to intimidate them into giving her what she wanted. Remus could tell that Peter was close to giving in so he subtly elbowed him. The woman looked from Remus to Peter several times, clearly seeing the apologetic look on Peter’s face and the unimpressed one on Remus’.

“Look, mother… I told you that this wouldn’t work.” Ah, so he does speak. The other lad had a surprisingly soft voice and his posh accent suited his stiff posture and immaculate image well. Remus felt like rubbish in comparison to him.

“Quiet, Sirius.” She hissed. Clearly not wanting to give up and leave now that she had caused such a scene, she lifted her bag onto the counter and began searching through it quickly, glancing up at the two workers every few seconds as if expecting them to change their minds and just give in. “Bloody ridiculous.” She muttered, as if that would help as well as she continued her aggressive search before she let out a triumphant noise and slammed a receipt down on the counter.

“There you go. Right, can I have my money back now, please?” She questioned, clearly annoyed at the way she had been treated. Peter had a look at the receipt and frowned, showing it to Remius before putting the receipt on the counter and pushing the xbox closer to her.

“This is from another shop.” Peter pointed out, his polite and cheery way faltering, grin now undeniably fake.

“No, it’s not.”

“...Yes, it is.” Remus couldn’t help smirking as he watched the exchange. “I can’t return this.”

“Why not?” She demanded.

“Because you didn’t buy it here?” It sounded like a question. Remus could not believe how ridiculous this woman was. How thick she was.

“Well, what does it matter where I bought it? You sell them here so just put it on the shelf and sell it.” She scoffed.

“I thought you said it was broken?” Remus wanted to intervene so badly but he had promised that he would keep his mouth shut.

“Well, after you fix it, obviously.” The woman scoffed, looking at Peter with so much disgust that Remus saw him shrink back, frowning deeply. “God, you checkout people are thick in the head. Look, can I have my money back or not?”

“I’m sorry but we’ve got a lot of people waiting and we really need to sort this out.” Remus cut in. He could feel Peter looking at him but also knew that the smaller lad felt relieved that the focus was off of him. The other lad, Sirius apparently, looked impressed and even more amused as he continued to openly stare at him.

“I don’t care about that, I was here first.” She practically spat with a smile just as fake as Remus’ had been, leaning closer to the counter in what Remus was sure was supposed to be an intimidating manner. But Remus wasn’t so easily intimidated and wouldn’t stand for her shit. “God, whatever happened to the customer’s almost right, eh?”

That got a few people to look over to see what the commotion was about so Remus waited a few seconds for everyone to look away before he leaned closer in a way that looked casual and friendly but as he spoke, his tone was the exact opposite and deadly quiet.

“Look, bitch..” He began, voice dangerously slow, fake smile still in place. “The only way you’re getting any money back is if you manage to drag your fat arse over this counter, and get it out of the till. Mind you, if you do get over this counter, I will stomp your arse into the ground ‘American History X’ style.” He practically hissed before straightening up slightly and looking her up and down with a look of complete disgust before smirking. “Bite the curb, bitch.”

As he stgraightened up, he realised that Peter had been nodding along to everything that he had said, Sirius (stupid name) was staring at him with his eyebrows raised so high that Remus feared that they would disappear into his hairline and the woman was looking at him with complete shock and horror on her face. He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and didn't need to turn around to see who it was.

“Is everything alright over here? You’ve got quite a queue.” Horace’s cheerful voice spoke. Remus glanced over his shoulder to smile innocently at the man.

“Of course, sir. This poor lady is just terribly confused-” Remus began but was cut off by the awful woman, who was now flushed and trembling slightly. Out of fear or rage, he wasn't sure, but it was an amusing sight.

“Th-this… This man had just threatened me!” She shrieked. Remus frowned in fake confusion, glancing at Peter, who was doing the same. He risked a glance at the woman’s son and saw that his face appeared to be confused as well. Bravo.

“Who? Our Remus? He would do no such thing. Would you, Remus?” Horace chortled, squeezing Remus’ shoulder.

“Of course not, sir. We were just trying to help her with her xbox and she started yelling.” He sighed, shaking his head slightly.

“It’s true, sir. She called us thick as well but we still tried to help her. She just wouldn’t listen.” Horace’s eyes hardened slightly at that. Despite how useless the woman could be, he would not tolerate abuse to his staff.

“I will not be having that. Leave at once.” It took Hoace, their security guard Frank and James to get the shrieking woman out of the shop.

“That was fun.” Remus said with a happy sigh as he pulled the labels all out of the machine now that they were all finished printing and had been checked. “Maybe I should work on the tills more often.

“Over my dead body.” Remus merely laughed and entered the main area of the shop to relabel.

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

“Do you usually tell customers to bite the curb or was my mother just a lucky case?” Remus frowned at the voice and looked up from where he had been fishing through his bag in an attempt to find his car keys. The lad from earlier, Sirius, was stood down the alleyway by the side of the shop smoking the end of a cigarette. He finished it and flicked it further down the alley.

“Do you usually wait outside peoples work for them or am I a lucky case?” Remus retorted sarcastically, raising a brow, although his heart was beating unnaturally fast. Was it because the lad was outrageously gorgeous and part of Remus wanted to climb him like a tree or because he had threatened an old woman and now her son was waiting for him down an alley? He really wasn’t sure.

“Very witty. I like you Remus.” Remus practically shit himself at the fact that the other lad knew his name but then he remembered Horace saying it. And then remembered that he was also wearing a nametag and wanted to slam his head against the brick wall that Sirius now straightened up from leaning on.

When Remus didn’t say anything else and just glanced around them unsurely, Sirius chuckled and moved closer. “I vouched for you. You know, to your boss. Told him my mother was losing her shit in her old age. He seemed to buy it.”

“Oh…” That hadn’t been what he was expecting at all. “Oh… Thank you.”

“So, it looks like you owe me.”

“Are… Are you blackmailing me?” Remus asked incredulously as Sirius took another step closer. If Remus reached his arm out, he would be touching Sirius.

“I guess you could call it that. Or you could call it a date. We can go get coffee. You’re paying this time, of course.” Remus couldn’t believe it. And he couldn’t help noticing the ‘this time.’

“Is this you asking me out on a date?!” He scoffed, now shuffling slightly and becoming just a bit closer to Sirius.

“That depends… is it working?”

Remus thought about it for a few moments and then waited for a few seconds, just to take Sirius down a peg or two. “Just. For future reference, blackmailing isn’t the way to go. But we can work on that. Over coffee.”

[I don’t even know what this is but enjoy! Inspired by Rostered On, which you should definitely go watch because it is incredibly. Let me know if you want more of sassy sarcastic arsehole worker Remus because I could do another chapter or two if people wanted it… Who knows!

Please give me love because my life is terrible and I need validation okay thanks bye]

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