#ares grabbing me and slowly pulling me into transformers

[svvordsmachine]

hm. noticing a trend i think

[virtualreader]

roadside temptations

rickgrimesxfem!reader

summary: the car breaks down on the way back to the prison when you and Rick were coming back from a small run, and you figure out a way to kill time.

word count: 1,7k.

warnings: fingering, manturbation (female reciving), thigh riding, unprotected sex (p in v), cursing, praising, dick riding, etc. not proofread.

requested: yes (by anonymous).

+18 content below, minors dni, nsfw, please do not read it if you're uncomfortable with this topic!

As the car continued along the road, the gentle rumble of the engine slowly began to transform into a more noticeable rattling sound, and the once smooth ride became slightly more unstable as the vehicle began to wobble ever so lightly.

You and Rick had gone on a supply run to gather the essentials - medical supplies and food - and anything useful you could find. Given the current state of things, you knew that every little thing counted. It was supposed to be a day's journey; however, as luck would have it, your vehicle did not seem up to your wishes, as it malfunctioning and running slower than usual.

“That doesn’t sound exactly nice and smooth,” you said, pointing out the worrying clatter coming from the motor. “Do you think we should stop and check it out?”

"It's probably best if we do," Rick agreed. He didn't want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, having just a couple of hours left until sunset. "'M gonna pull over to that siding, and I'll take a look at it.”

Rick did as said, stopping the car when he had reached the pull-off. He opened the driver’s seat door and step out, heading to the front of the car. You watched as Rick popped open the hood and began to inspect the engine, a troubled expression breaking across his once calm features after he poked around a bit.

Rick followed instructions and stopped the car at the pull-off. He got out of the driver’s seat and walked to the front of the car. You observed as Rick opened the hood and inspected the engine.

After poking around for a while, a troubled expression crossed his previously calm features. Rick slamed the hood shut with a loud bang, and, with his thumbs in his pockets, returned to the car, behind the wheel.

"Looks like we're stuck here for a while," he said, turning to face you.

“If only you’d listened to me when I told you,” you scolded Rick. “We should’ve checked everything was in order before setting off.”

He was in such a hurry to depart that he didn't even stop to verify the condition of the engine. He was to blame for your setback.

While you rebuked Rick, his gaze remained glued to your lips, moving as you spoke.

"Are you listening to me at all?" you asked Rick, shaking your head in exasperation.

“God, you're so fucking hot when you're mad," he said with a smirk.

"You're a lost cause, you know that, right?" you sigh, still trying to hold onto your annoyance with Rick, on the brink of succumbing to his pleading eyes.

"Maybe," Rick responds with a wry smile, "but you long for this lost cause to touch you." His voice is playful and teasing, and it has the abillity to snap you out of your anger.

It's not that you don't appreciate Rick's sense of humor and charm - it's just that sometimes, it can be a little too much, especially when you're in a stressful situation like this one. But as he sits there beside you in the car, his eyes sparkling with mischief, you can’t help feeling the fluttering butterflies, the same ones you got back when he first started flirting with you.

As he moved his hand along the exposed skin of your thigh, you felt a rush of desire course through your body. The warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine and you found yourself yearning for more. You wondered what it would be like to have his hands explore every inch of your body, to feel his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as you melted under his touch.

You gave in to your desires and crossed over to the driver's seat, straddling Rick.

In a sudden and spontaneous movement, he grabbed your arms and pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips against yours in a fervent and ardent kiss. If you could not make it home, you might as well enjoy the privacy the deserted roads provided.

You interrupted the kiss, opening your eyes to observe his face, which you held in your hands. You noticed the way his eyes sparkled in the fading light, and the way his lips curved into a small smile. How you had gotten so lucky to have found someone like him in this chaotic and unpredictable world?

You buried your face in the crook of his neck and sucked, savoring the salty flavor of his perspiring skin. The lustful action elicited a grunt from Rick, and seeing him enjoying it only made you hornier.

Unable to resist the temptation to indulge your erotic desires, you began rubbing your denim-covered pussy on Rick's leg. The sensation was electric as you indulged in your carnal urges, your body responding with increasing arousal and a sense of unbridled wildness.

"Behave, babygirl, " Rick gasped, trying to keep some semblance of control. “Quit that if you want me to please you anytime soon.”

But you were relentless, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Rick's voice was strained as he fought to keep his composure, his eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of desire and amusement. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart race.

Despite his warning, you couldn't resist the temptation to tease him, to see just how far you could push him. You continued to grind your hips against his leg, feeling the friction and the growing wetness between your thighs. Your breathing became more and more erratic as the pleasure built inside you, and you could tell that Rick was struggling to keep up his facade of control.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" he growled, his hands tightening on your hips. "Because if that's your plan, it's working."

You smirked, feeling a sense of power in the way you were able to affect him.

"Maybe," you said, your voice low and sultry. "Or maybe I just want you to take me right here in this car."

Rick's eyes widened at your boldness, and for a moment you thought he might actually give in to your demands. But then he shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips.

Rick pushed a hand against your chest, gently but firmly, conveying both his desire and authority, moving you back so he could access the button on your shorts, and, using just one hand, he undid it effortlessly. There was little space inside the tea green Hyundai SUV, hence the steering wheel digging your back as the man under you battled to roll your pants down.

"No panties?" You gave a feeble smile as the corners of your lips turned up when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear under your shorts. "You sure are a dirty little slut, ain't you?”

His large hands griped you tights, spreading your legs so you were stradling his lap. Your eyes closed, anticipation taking over you when his hard boner grazed your crotch through the denim fabric. You moaned in response to his fingers caresses in your cunt, which soon turned into a swifter rub, his middle and ring finger at both sides of your clit.

As the passion between you and Rick grew, you heard him whisper in your ear, "You can get louder, can't you?" and you responded by letting out a moan of pleasure.

The sound only seemed to encourage him as he continued to touch and explore your body, his hand working its way up under your shirt until he reached your tit, stroking it between his cold fingertips. You were completely under his spell, and you loved every moment of it.

A gasp left your mouth when he slided a finger inside you without prior notice.

“Rick.” you muttered in a submissive wail.

“What do you want, honey?” he teased, adding another finger to his pumping. “Is it me?”

You hummed in agreement, your eyes closed and head tilted backward as your walls squeezed his fingers. Signs of an impending orgasm emerged, the swell of bliss making its way up your core.

Yet, your expression of rapture quickly changed to one of disappointment when Rick's fingers left your hole, the sense of emptiness outweighing any pleasure.

"If you want to come, you better beg," he growled in your ear, and you knew you were completely under his control.

“Please, Rick” with a soft whimper, you begged him to take you, to make you his completely. “I want you, I want you to fill me.”

Without a second thought, his own urgency beyond human limits, Rick pulled the lever under the bottom of the seat, and it swung back, increasing the wiggrling space. He pulled up his shirt and pulled down his trousers before freeing his throbbing member from the suffocating fabric of his stone grey boxers.

At the sight, your mouth watered, and you eagerly mounted his erect, precum-dripping cock. you began to bounce up and down, your hips meeting in a sensual rhythm with each thrust.

"Attagirl," Rick praised you amidst his own gleefulness.

The car may have broken down and left you stranded on the side of the road, but in that moment, all you could think about was the intense desire that had overtaken your body. You wanted to feel Rick's hands over you, as your bodies melted into one, to be completely consumed by the zeal of this moment.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Rick whispered in your ear as you rode him, your hips moving faster and faster as you approached the brink of orgasm.

You moaned in response, your body writhing with pleasure as Rick's hands roamed over your body, touching you in all the right places as you rode him harder and harder.

You reached your peak, your body shaking with ecstasy as you came hard, your walls contracting around Rick's cock as he pumped into you one last time before spilling his own release inside you.

As you collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily, you couldn't help but think that getting stuck on the side of the road might have been the best thing that ever happened to you.

[imekitty]

Danny confronts Vlad about the graveyard of clones.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21

-----

Vlad's vision was starting to get fuzzy. He grabbed a bottle of eye drops and squeezed a couple drops into each eye before continuing to type up his notes and calculations.

It had been a very long day. Calling on Valerie to catch and bring Danielle to him, delivering the twenty-sixth clone to Maddie and Jack via ghost portal, collecting Danielle's mid-morph DNA when she arrived, orchestrating a showdown with Danny and Valerie so they could stabilize Danielle's ecto-DNA and rescue her, allowing Valerie to see him transform into his Plasmius alter ego because Maddie wanted to see if she and Danny would form an alliance—he was simply exhausted.

He was in his main cloning lab now, in a remote location far outside Amity Park. He kept glancing at his ghost portal, wishing he could use it to get to his home mansion and turn in for the night.

But he had work to finish first. Maddie was counting on him to begin cloning Danielle as soon as possible.

So he stretched his back and then hunched over his desk again to type some more.

And then Danny Phantom phased in through the wall. Vlad jumped up in response, his heart pounding.

This wasn't planned. Maddie hadn't somehow sent Danny here without telling him, had she?

"Daniel!" Vlad glanced over at a few screens showing live security camera footage all around this particular property, but he couldn't remember seeing any movement. Had he been so engrossed in his work that he didn't even notice Danny was here? "I didn't see you—I guess I wasn't paying attention—"

Danny landed on the floor and remained in ghost form, his gloved fists clenching as he stared at Vlad, panting. He looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Daniel?" Vlad frowned and approached him. "Is everything all right, little badger?"

"No," said Danny. "Everything is not all right."

Vlad waited, studying Danny's every movement closely. Danny pulled in a deep, shaky breath and lifted his chin, puffing out his chest slightly, but Vlad could see just how much he was breaking up inside.

"What have you been doing?" demanded Danny, his voice not as strong as his stance. "Those bodies I found." He pointed off to the side. "They're clones, aren't they? Clones of me."

Vlad's stomach sank, because he knew exactly what was in that direction Danny was pointing to: the fenced-in plot where he was keeping the dead clones for further study according to Maddie's instructions. The graveyard, as he often called it, though Maddie preferred to call it the clone body farm.

"Why do you have so many dead clones out there?" Danny looked over Vlad's shoulder and marched up to one of the screens, pointing to one that displayed a shot of the graveyard with a night vision filter. "There! It's right there. You can't pretend it's not true."

Vlad sighed. "Daniel—"

"What have you been doing to them?" Danny turned back to Vlad. "To me?"

Vlad thought for a very long moment. Normally he would call up Maddie and ask for her input, but there was no time for that now. He had to decide on his own the most convincing lie to tell Danny.

"I suppose there's no use hiding it anymore," he said slowly, carefully. "I've been cloning you for…experimental purposes. I am a scientist, as you know. Ghost research has always been my passion."

"But me?" Danny's eyes edged with tears. "I thought you wanted to clone me to—to be your son, not so you could experiment on me and kill me."

"Daniel, please listen—"

"And what kind of experiment is this?" Danny pointed to the graveyard footage. "What are you doing with all these dead clones now?"

"I am studying how they decompose," said Vlad. "I have prepared them in different ways and left them in various environments to study the different phases of decay for each. Some have been embalmed, some have not. Some are frozen, others are in an indoor location protected from the elements, but most are out above ground in that fenced-in area you came across."

"Some? Most?" Danny's eyes flashed. "Exactly how many are there, Vlad?"

Vlad coughed, stalling for a quick second as he debated lying or not. "Twenty-five," he said eventually, deciding to be at least partly truthful. There were in fact twenty-five clone bodies here on his property.

"Twenty-five," Danny echoed. He crossed his arms and glared at Vlad. "Prove it. Prove that's all there is."

Vlad cocked a brow. "Prove it? And how do you want me to do that?"

Danny looked around. "Your computer." He marched over to Vlad's computer. "I know you keep notes about these things. Show me your notes for the clones."

Vlad's gut knotted. "Daniel, I don't think—"

"Now, Vlad," spat Danny. "Show me right now before I destroy this whole lab."

"Daniel, please, this equipment is very expensive."

"You're rich."

"Well, yes, but—"

"And you've been using it to torture and kill me twenty-five times. There is no way I'm letting you do it a twenty-sixth."

They stared each other down for a moment. Vlad considered transforming right then, knocking Danny out and returning him to Maddie to ask what was to be done with him now.

But Danny had gotten so strong over the past couple years, and Vlad knew he had no defense if Danny chose to unleash that ghastly wail of his.

And even if he could knock Danny out before he used his wail, Maddie would be furious if he harmed Danny without her permission, especially if he caused any significant or irreversible injuries.

With a big sigh, Vlad surrendered. Perhaps if he controlled what Danny saw in his notes, it would be fine. He just had to figure out some way to explain this to Danny, some way that Maddie would be pleased with.

Because if Maddie lost her access to the clones, Vlad didn't like to think about what she might do in retaliation.

He was already logged in to his account as he clicked to open the document containing details about the various clones. He typed in a password to open the protected file and kept a firm grip on the mouse as he scrolled through the information. Each clone description had a large red status indicator that read DECEASED.

"Clones 1 through 25," said Vlad. "See? That's all there is. And if you'd like, you can count the bodies on my property for yourself to make sure they're all here."

"Wait a minute." Danny seized the mouse with a quick jerk and scrolled to the end of the document, revealing the information for the twenty-sixth clone with a green status indicator that read ALIVE.

"Twenty-six," Danny murmured. "Where is he?" Danny pointed to the ALIVE status and glared at Vlad. "I knew you were lying. Where is clone 26?"

Vlad groaned and pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose. Shit, shit, shit.

"Is he here?" Danny looked around wildly. "What have you been doing to him?"

"Daniel—"

"Tell me where he is right now."

"Daniel, he's not here."

"Liar. You're always lying. Tell me where he is or I will tear this place apart until I find him."

"Daniel, I'm not lying. The twenty-sixth clone is not here."

"Then where is he?" Danny rounded on him with hard eyes. "Don't try to tell me you don't know. I know you know."

"Yes," said Vlad quietly. "I do."

"Where?"

Vlad tapped the screen, pointing out the description written for clone 26. "He's been delivered, Daniel. I delivered him myself earlier this afternoon, before the whole ordeal with Danielle."

Danny gawked at the description for a moment. "Where? Where did you deliver him? And to who?"

Vlad did not respond.

"To the Guys in White?" Danny gritted his teeth. "Have you been selling clones of me to the Guys in White so they can experiment on me?"

"No," said Vlad. "Although I certainly could've charged them a fortune for clones of Danny Phantom. But she was very much against that idea."

"She?" Danny's voice rose in pitch. "Who are you talking about?"

Vlad pressed his lips into a very thin line, knowing that there was no lie he could make up to fix this now. Even if he invented a name, Danny would not rest until he found out exactly where clone 26 went, and he'd be looking for all subsequent clones from then on.

Vlad always knew that the truth couldn't be kept from Danny forever. He just hadn't expected to be the one to tell him, certainly not this soon.

"Vlad." Danny was now shaking, his eyes clouding with tears. "Who did you deliver clone 26 to?"

Vlad couldn't bring himself to speak just yet. Danny turned back to the screen and clicked around until he found a text box labeled Instructions for clone 25. Vlad watched all the muscles in Danny's body tense and shiver as he read the text: Vocal cords were surgically removed, take care when handling and store in buffered formalin solution. Further special requests from Maddie include—

Danny gasped and stepped back, his hand clawing at his throat. He turned to Vlad, eyes wide with speechless horror.

Vlad looked down at the floor and shook his head.

"Clone 26 has been delivered to your mother," said Vlad.

Danny didn't even breathe in the silence that followed, a silence that sounded strangled, deafeningly mute.

"Cloning you was never my idea," continued Vlad. "Your mother asked me to clone you."

"No." Danny staggered backward a couple steps. "No. You're lying. She wouldn't do that. Why are you lying about this? Tell me the truth, Vlad."

"That is the truth, my boy," said Vlad, keeping a very serious face. "This was all her plan, all her design. I just did whatever she asked of me."

"What are you talking about? What design?" demanded Danny, sounding desperately pathetic.

"Daniel." Vlad gestured toward the lab door. "Perhaps we should go out to my sitting room. I can make us some tea—"

"No." Danny shook his head. "I don't want tea. Tell me here, tell me right now."

"Daniel—"

"I'm not leaving."

Vlad sighed. "Then perhaps you should take a seat in my desk chair there. You really should be sitting down for this."

"Quit stalling," Danny hissed. He leaned over a lab table, gripping the edge. "I don't need to sit. Just tell me what is going on."

Vlad tried to make eye contact, but Danny kept his eyes on the table. He never raised them as Vlad told him everything, about his parents being fully aware that Vlad was also a ghost hybrid, his mother's subsequent desire to create her own half-ghost specimen, how his mother then rigged the portal to give Danny his own ghost powers, how she, Jack, and Vlad were all behind the scenes of every ghost fight, every injury, every sleepless night and skipped class and guilty excuse for every absence and forgotten chore.

Vlad ended by revealing his mother's desire to dissect Danny, how she paid Vlad to clone him over and over so she could conduct the most torturous experiments on him while never actually harming her real son. And now she wanted clones of Danielle for a whole new line of experimentation.

Danny never said a word, never even moved. But Vlad could see him shaking, his tremors getting more and more violent and erratic as the narrative continued. And by the end, Vlad could hear him hyperventilating.

"Daniel?" Vlad spoke very gently now, extending a hand in his direction to calm him down. "Daniel, are you all right?"

Danny stumbled away from the lab table he had been leaning on. He staggered a few steps, his glowing green eyes unfocused with some maddening vision only he could see.

Then he collapsed to the floor on his knees and started screaming.

The sound waves destroyed everything, picking up a ghostly frequency that tore through the machines and computers, an eerie dissonance that flipped over tables, shattered beakers and flasks.

Vlad was thrown into a wall, breaking right through the plasterboard and cracking his leg against a stud. He could feel the frequency piercing his eardrums as Danny's ghostly wail continued.

And for a moment, he was sure he was going to die.

He had felt Danny's ghostly wail before but never like this. Danny's deep agony was almost palpable in this blaring siren of betrayal and despair. The pain sank beneath Vlad's skin and etched into his bones.

And when Danny's wail at last stopped and dissolved into sobs, the lab was completely devastated, including the ghost portal which was sparking uselessly. Vlad weakly lifted his head to look around. Danny was now on his knees in human form, his hands covering his face as he continued crying.

Vlad's head fell back against the floor as he allowed himself to pass out. And when he woke again, Danny was gone.

Vlad moaned as he pushed himself up, crawling through the ruined remains of his lab as he tried to locate his phone. But when he found it, it was shattered and splintered beyond use.

Vlad chortled and tossed the phone aside, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. His entire body throbbed with pain.

"Maddie is going to kill me," he muttered before passing out again.

Part 23

[pthalomars]

Season 4 Episode 7 rewrite

Kai stared in disbelief at the scene in front of him. Skylor’s body writhed in pain as her father absorbed her powers into his staff. She faltered, barely catching herself before stumbling back towards the red ninja. They exchanged a glance, Skylor nodding weakly at Kai before both of them turned to face Chen’s next target.

“And now, for the final element.” Chen said triumphantly. The master made his way over to Lloyd and Nya. 

Nya was already robbed of her element, but had proven to be untrustworthy when under supervision of the guards. Her vengestone chains weighed her down, unable to move or protect herself. But it wasn’t her safety she was worried about. 

Kneeling next to her was Lloyd. He was constrained by the same shackles, his knees digging uncomfortably into the cracked stone floor. He was the only one with his element still intact.

“Only one can remain.” Chen assured before holding his staff out. The prism began to glow and shake violently as Lloyd’s  element escaped from his body. Wisps of green smoke flew off of him and were consumed by the crystal. Having tried to hold in his cries, Lloyd let out a shriek of pain as the last of his powers were ripped from his body. Nya yelled, trying to get closer to him, to protect him; but it was too late.

“Behold! Every elemental power, all in my control!” Chen roared, his goons shouting in response.  His words of victory and diabolical plots echoed loudly in the cavern, only being amplified by the excitement of the soon-to-be Anacondrai warriors.

Lloyd had slumped over from exhaustion, his body frail and limp. Nya had tried her best to scoot closer to him, her chains digging into her flesh as she tried to rest her forehead on her brother’s back. She sobbed quietly, whispering to him in hopes that he could hear her.

Kai stood next to Skylor, horrified and barely able to maintain his cover. They still had a plan, they could do this. They could take down her father. He just had to keep it together for just a bit longer. 

But looking at his little sister and his friend- his brother- it was nearly impossible to not leap for Chen’s throat.

Skylor looked at him, noting the growing anger and despair in his eyes. She gave a small squeeze to his arm before nodding. Their plan was now in action.

“Father, let me stand beside you.” Skylor proclaimed, moving to be next to Chen. 

“Yes. Yes, join me. After today, not only will Master Chen be Ninjago’s number one noodle house, but Ninjago’s number one ruler!” The room swells with excitement as Clouse moves forward. Placing his hand on Chen’s staff, words of a dead tongue pour from his lips. Dark plumes of vapor escape his fingertips and swirl around the color changing prism. The transformation was beginning, it was now or never.

“Hey Chen! You forgot one element.” Kai pipes in. Chen, Clouse, and Skylor turn around to face him. “The element of surprise!”

Before the two men can react, the master of amber jumps up, hooking the staff on her foot before flipping backward and launching it at Kai. Quick to react, he catches the staff and pivots to Lloyd and Nya.

Chen, looking utterly dumbfounded, glared at his daughter and shrieked. “You betray me?!”

Skylor huffs, a strand of hair blowing out of her face, “It runs in the family.” She lunged forward, knocking her father off of his feet with a quick swipe before jutting into him and throwing him to the ground. He skids across the floor and rolls over, letting out a groan of pain. 

“Get them!!” Chen cries, his body heaving on the stone. 

As Kai made his way to his siblings, Chen’s warriors began to close in from all sides. Skylor was fighting back, but several of them grabbed hold of her and were about to knock her to the ground. 

Kai shouted in anger, pointing the staff at the goons and channeling Jay’s lightning to electrocute them. They fell to the ground in a heap, with Skylor practically untouched. He then turned to face the kneeling pair. Bringing forth the same electricity, he zapped the chains around their wrists and ankles. They cracked open and clattered to the ground.

“Kai, what is going on?” Nya demands.

“That was all an act?” Lloyd asks weakly.

“Don’t worry, I had it all under control. Well, almost..” Kai replied, suddenly eyeing the fangs of the snake statue that towered above them. Clouse had snuck over to a lever on the lower jaw, forcing it down. Thick columns of acrid sludge poured from the fangs, which caused Nya and Lloyd to brace for impact. When they realized that their skin hadn't melted off of bodies, they opened their eyes. A forcefield of pure energy circled their forms. 

The acid stopped flowing and Kai stood to face Clouse. Before the man could make another move, the brunette summoned Zane’s ice to freeze him on the spot. The sorcerer’s body iced over before falling to the side and cluttering on the stone floor.

In response, a surge of fighters began to swarm them once again. Skylor had still been fighting, but there were just so many of them. Catching a second wind, Lloyd, Nya, and Kai jumped into the fray.

The sounds of battle echoed overwhelmingly in the cavernous walls. As the fight continued, Lloyd noticed Kai was becoming more and more aggressive. His elemental attacks were no longer to defend, but to maim. Blood had started to shed.

“Kai, hurry! You must destroy the staff!” Lloyd cried.

“Chen’s right, this thing is awesome!” Kai admitted, the corners of his lips pulling into a devilish grin. His eyes began to take on a red glow, only growing stronger. 

He whipped around and pointed the staff at the remaining warriors. Burst of fire, lightning, and energy ripped through the air and all of those who were still standing fell to the ground. Nya and Skylor looked to see what was happening, their eyes growing wide when they realized what had happened.

“Kai, it holds too much power. Destroy it!” Nya shouted. Kai looked between her and the staff, his eyes flickering between red and dark brown. “The power is corrupting him. If we don’t get that staff out of his hands-”

“No one is taking my staff!” Kai roared. He turned to face Lloyd, “You had all that power, now it's my turn!” As Kai’s voice raised in volume, Nya instinctively moved in between her brothers. Skylor moved to be behind Lloyd, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. For just a moment, Kai falters.

“Ah! What am I saying? Nothing I don’t already feel!” Red’s grip on himself was slipping rapidly. His anger and desires overtook him as the elemental powers from the staff surged through his veins. 

Laying on the ground, Chen props himself up on his elbows and takes in the sight. “Yes, Kai, embrace the power!” He cheers. 

Kai shakes his head, attempting to snap out of it. “I can’t, I can't control it. I don’t want to control it. I should have been the green ninja!!” He rears back, getting ready to land a blow on his poor brother.

“No Kai, don’t!” Lloyd yells, cowering behind Nya. Kai goes to strike Lloyd with the staff, but his arc is cut short by a pair of strong hands. 

“Wh- what are you doing?” says Kai, his glowing eyes wide with shock.

“The staff has to be destroyed. If you won’t finish the job, then I will!” said Nya, attempting to rip the staff from her brother’s grip.

“Let go, the staff is mine!”

“The staff never belonged to you, hand it over!”

“No!”

Skylor moved quickly to get herself and Lloyd out of the way as the siblings attempted to overcome each other. They tugged and tore mercilessly at the staff, yet neither could manage to get the upper hand. 

The contact Nya had with the staff had started to affect her. Once dark brown eyes slowly come to a red glow and her anger rose like a vicious tide. 

“Damnit Kai, you nEVER LISTEN TO ME! GIVE ME THE STAFF!” Nya demands, suddenly pulling the cane close to her body before aggressively shoving it back against her brother. The staff collided with his ribs and knocked the wind right out of his body. The brunette fell hard against the ground, letting out a choked gasp and curling in on himself. Nya stood upright, the staff still clutched in her hands. 

The power had her swimming in her mind, barely able to keep herself together as she looked at the scene around her. Chen’s warriors were incapacitated all around them. Her brother lay helpless on the ground, gasping for air. Her friends cowered in fear. Her rage had blown up into an inferno, threatening to burn the world around her.

“Nya, destroy it now!!” Lloyd’s voice pierced through the red haze. Shaking her head violently, she gripped the staff until her knuckles were white. What was she doing?

“NYA!”

She let out a guttural scream as she raised the staff up, stomping her foot on the ground and arcing it down full force. The prism in the staff shattered, but the noise felt so piercing in her ears. The power of the staff was inside of her, and its destruction left her body wracked with pain. 

Her legs gave out and her throat was raw from screaming. It was all too much. Her vision went dark and her body fell limp against the floor.  

From the broken crystal, streams of multicolored light swirled in the room. Green, orange, red, and blue ribbons clung to their respective masters, restoring their rightful powers. The remaining light faded into the walls, and a loud rumbling sounded from behind the serpentine statue. The others were coming. They were almost here.

[humans4vampires]

Cold Heart

Context: This story was inspired by a tumblr post from tumblr user @cozycullens. The post outlined the potential for sappy holiday content that the original story lacked. The post noted that Twilight fans had to fill in the blanks; I thought it would be fun to write out what Valentine’s Day could have looked like for Edward and Bella. The timeline of this story edits the original canon, meaning the breakup in New Moon and subsequent recoupling happens earlier, allowing the pair to be reunited in time to spend both the Christmas holiday season together and Valentine’s Day. This is before the events are set in motion for the vampire army attack in Eclipse. I’d also like to mention that this story addresses a scene that occurs later in the timeline of the novel. I’ve edited it here to give Edward and Bella a bit of private time that is free of the pressures that the later happenings of Eclipse bring to the moment. In this, I have used direct quotes from Meyer’s novel, and I do not claim to own that content in any way. As stated, this is purely for fun and to share with my fellow Twilight fans.

READ PART TWO HERE

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The dull blue grey light of the morning filtered through my window in a haze, waking me gently from inconsequential dreams. My natural instincts to unfurl myself from my usual swaddle of blankets to reach for him felt empty and unnecessary. Rather, I found myself spread across my bed in a sweaty mess of fabric.

“Edward?” I said softly, propping myself up to take in the room. I blinked quickly and tried to brush the mess of my hair from my face, speaking his name again as a question. There was no reply.

I tried to think back to the night before; I didn’t think he had gone hunting. No, he had surely been with me when I fell asleep. A compilation of Victorian poetry was open face-down on his side of my bed. We made the trip to Seattle a few weeks ago to get the book I needed to get started on my research paper. I had chosen the topic of Tennyson and Rossetti as an ironic gesture toward him – my very own post-Victorian era angel. He was reading his favorites to me, his voice a velvet whisper when I had fallen asleep in his cool embrace.

No, I was sure he had been with me throughout the night. I ran my left palm over the bare sheet beside me and felt the lingering presence of his wintry skin. It was unusual for him to leave before I woke. It was my favorite part of each day, and his. I was wondering what had called him away as I picked up the heavy text to see where he had left off. As I turned the pages to face me, a small piece of paper fluttered into my lap. The note he had left in his elegant script explained his absence.

‘Who are wise in love, love most, say least. Happy Valentine’s Day, love.’

He quoted Tennyson, I was sure, but the poem he had left open was not the same one he referenced. Instead, the book was open to Tennyson’s ‘Crossing the Bar,’ which was certainly not a love poem. I scanned it quickly, trying to garner any meaning from it without success. My mind was racing elsewhere, my heart beating quickly with exultant dread. So he had gone to prepare whatever exorbitant Valentine’s Day surprise he had planned. As fate would have it, this holiday had arrived on a school day and would provide a public audience to witness the surely over-the-top display Edward had planned for me.

Edward’s obsession with making the most of my human experiences had only intensified since reaching our compromise for Carlisle to turn me after my impending high school graduation. Christmas had been a deluge of cheer and merriment thanks to Alice, who was overcompensating for lost time with me – while also, just being Alice. I was still convinced it hadn’t snowed quite as much as she’d wanted and she had somehow managed a snow machine to fill in my yard for Christmas morning. Alice had laughed off my assumptions as absurd, but Charlie was still trying to work out how our yard had had a good three feet more snow than the rest of our neighborhood.

The halls had certainly been decked in Cullen home, too. It had to be visible from space from the sheer amount of Christmas lights neatly hung on every eave and railing. For the entire month of December, the house smelled of fresh gingerbread and pine. Every surface had been transformed with fresh garlands and shiny decorations. The fireplace in the grand living room was constantly crackling a gentle fire, flickering its light against the enormous tree trimmed with ornaments gathered over the many decades of Christmases past. And the gifts – oh – I couldn’t even bring myself to continue the thought.

I was brought back to reality, the sweet valentine in my shaking hand. I took a staggered breath and made a passing glance at the clock as I rushed to the bathroom. I tried not to think about the day ahead as I dressed. Charlie had already left for the station and the rest of my morning at home seemed to move in a blur of anxiety. I stumbled out the door in a black turtleneck, jeans, bean boots, and my mustard yellow coat. I thought my very standard attire might signal Edward to my disinterest in any outlandish public displays of affection. I drove slowly to Forks High School through the rain muddled snow. My truck dredged through the sludge into the parking spot beside the familiar silver Volvo.

The parking lot was already full and busy with the usual Friday commotion. I looked out my rearview mirror to take in the pops of pink and red from the Valentine’s baubles that everyone seemed to be toting. I had always found the holiday rather arbitrary – a well-marketed event to boost the sales of chocolates and flowers. Until my mother had found Phil, Valentine’s Day was usually spent in front of the television with a pint of ice cream, two spoons, and a chick-flick. I was trying to remember the last Valentine’s Day movie my mom and I had watched together when a quick knock on my driver’s side window snapped my eyes from my rearview.

The morning’s panic melted from my bones as I took him in. Edward was standing there, my favorite crooked smile on his lips, a single and perfect red rose held up in his hand.

“Good morning,” he murmured as I opened my door and got to my feet to stand in front of him. “Did you get my Valentine?”

“Mmm,” I hummed. “Tennyson?”

He nodded, a smirk crossing his expression. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

I felt a blush beginning to mark my cheeks and looked down at my feet as he handed me my rose. He moved to rest that now empty hand above my head on the frame of my truck, leaning to tighten the space between us. His free hand swept down my jaw, his gentle fingers stopping below my chin to tilt my head up. He bent down to press his lips to mine, his cool breath sending my delicate humanity into a tailspin. The kiss was, as expected, refined… at first. Unexpectedly, he draped an arm around my body to pull me closer to his frame. He lifted me effortlessly to continue the kiss as my free hand found its way around the base of his neck and into his bronze hair.

When his response became rigid and he began to return my feet to their reluctant ground, I realized I had forgotten to breathe. My legs trembled against the sudden gravity and he steadied me as I took in sharp breaths. He chuckled lightly and shook his head.

“What am I going to do with you?” he teased.

“With any hope, that, again.”

He took a slow step back and smirked, “I do enjoy sweeping you off your feet.”

My head was still spinning as I grabbed my bag from the truck and shut the door behind me. Edward took my right hand as we walked to class, my single rose in the left.

The rest of the day continued on and I was a happy bystander to the couples declaring their love for one another throughout the day. It seemed each period passed with another sudden delivery of roses, large teddy bears, or chocolates. Joyce Lowell in Government received a loud serenade from half of the school’s marching band, her boyfriend, Aaron, the faux-conductor. Each time the door to the classroom opened my heart skipped a beat with the fresh fear that Edward might have some embarrassing demonstration planned. I wasn’t eager to hurt his feelings and so I kept the question from him all day. I had cracked by fifth period when he finally asked, “Why is your heart is thrumming like a hummingbird’s?”

“I’m worried that you have a grand romantic gesture planned,” I took a sharp breath, anxious for his response. My heart rate only increased when he shrugged and walked ahead of me into the classroom.

I was at a loss for words when he chuckled. “Am I not allowed a grand gesture on Valentine’s Day?” Panic rushed through me before he continued in a more serious tone, “Do you honestly believe that my romantic displays are akin to those of someone like Mike Newton?”

His eyes glanced down at the trinkets gathered in my arms. I thought this tradition had been left in elementary school, but it seemed my friends still enjoyed giving each other Valentine’s treats. Jessica and Angela both had given me small paper crafts and chocolates to mark the occasion. Even Tyler and Eric participated, handing out boxes of tiny heart candies.

The only class Edward could not manage to work out to have with me our senior year was math – considering my being in a far lower level than was excusable for him to fail into. This, of course, was the only class I had exclusively with Mike. I had found it funny that it bothered Edward in the slightest; until today, when Mike seized the opportunity to give me a large stuffed bear, a rather huge box of chocolates, and a clearly handmade valentine. All platonically, Mike had assured me, as he was still on-and-off with Jessica and I was still very much Edward’s – only Edward’s.

I shook my head as I fumbled to stack all of my favors onto a pile on my desk, keeping the rose in my hand to tap lightly on the tip of Edward’s nose.

He tilted his brow at my playful gesture. “You have nothing to worry about. I simply have arranged for us to have a night alone. My family have their own Valentine’s Day traditions and we’ll have the house to ourselves. For this one night could we try to forget everything besides just you and me?” he pleaded, unleashing the full force of his eyes on me. “It seems like I can never get enough time like that. I need to be with you. Just you.”

“No,” I shook my head again. “Just you is good.”

The hitch in my tone caught his attention, but he didn’t have a chance to respond. Mr. Banner began lecturing on optics and light. I couldn’t focus on Physics; I could only hear Edward’s methodic voice repeating ‘I need to be with you’ again and again. Each passing thought brought a new blush to my cheeks that I tried to hide behind a curtain of my hair. I was sure he could hear my fluttering heart, but I couldn’t focus on that either. I was entirely clouded with thoughts of him. I stared at his strong hands, folded together in front of him on the table. How I imagined them on my body a million times, his cold fingertips grazing over my bare skin in the places he refused to wander. It was all I could think of the rest of the day.

When I was back in my room, a different blur of anxiety plagued me than when I had left it in the morning. Edward and I went our separate ways after school. He had filled me in on how exactly he had planned to handle the issue of Charlie. My father was still learning to trust me again and another night out of the house was certainly going to come under some heavy interrogation. I was technically still grounded even though Edward had been following Charlie’s very strict rules to a perfect degree. I was sure that Charlie hadn’t missed the fact that it was Valentine’s Day and I could only imagine the things he would think Edward and I would be doing if left alone. I was pressing the subject when Edward said, “Esme spoke with Charlie today and let him know that Carlisle is taking my brothers and I on a long-promised camping trip. You’ll be having a girls’ night with Esme, Alice, and Rosalie, as Charlie knows it. He’s been hoping you’d be spending more time with Alice soon.”

I felt a twinge of guilt for all the lying that had to be done to protect Charlie. This lie was much less to protect him from the perils of life threatening vampire attacks and much more about protecting him from the thought of his teenage daughter being alone with her boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. The guilt subsided when I remembered that I would get to be alone with Edward.

I stood in my room, hands steadying me on my dresser, knees shaking from the anticipation. The mix of emotions kept wracking me in waves. Edward had made it very clear; we could not be together physically until I was changed. My safety, was not something he was willing to jeopardize to satisfy any desire – which, to his credit, was entirely the reason I was alive. It was difficult to argue with Edward on that fact, but it was so incredibly difficult to argue with my own desires, still. And yet, I felt foolish all the same. I was so intensely human. Though he’d told me many times that he felt the same way for me, I knew he couldn’t possibly lust for me the way I did for him. I was able to reason that point logically, but part of me questioned it in this moment. Had he changed his mind?

I knew what was waiting for me at the Cullens’. It hadn’t been much more than a month since the last time I had genuinely spent the night there for a ‘girls’ night.’ Edward didn’t want me anywhere near Jacob and so Edward had been avoiding distant hunting trips to keep a close watch on me. Alice was all too eager to babysit to allow Edward a satiating hunt; it left me free to be played with as if I were her life-sized doll. That wasn’t what I was fixated on now. The image of the intricate wrought-iron bed burned in my mind. The thought of Edward and I wrapped tenderly in its golden threads made me quiver again, a sigh escaping my lips.

A knock at the front door made my heart stutter. I heard Charlie gather himself up off the couch to get the door. I stopped listening and only heard the light murmur of greetings as I rushed to find something appropriate to wear. What kind of outfit were you supposed to put together to seduce your vampire boyfriend? I was clashing hangers together across the pole, a bit frantic, when I heard her behind me.

Alice shook her head. “You look like you need to sit down. Let me handle this,” she said.

I decided it was better not to argue with her. I was, in all fairness, a mess, and there was only so much harm she could do with my own wardrobe to work with. She confidently pulled my small duffle from the top shelf of my closet and began packing things without truly looking at them. She had already seen what she would need.

I was sitting in my rocking chair when she looked back to me, still absently packing my bag. She looked like she was waiting for me to say something, but I swallowed uncomfortably rather than working up the nerve to talk.

She cast me a sympathetic smile as she removed something from my closet and tossed it toward me. “Try this,” she said.

I stood to change into the hyacinth blue sweater Alice had given it to me as a Christmas gift. Unlike many of the other fashion pieces Alice had tried to dress me in, I did like it. It was soft, probably a thin cashmere, with a plunging V neckline. It fit my frame tightly and was flattering in a way that I couldn’t justify being embarrassed by. She moved to my dresser then, digging through the very bottom drawer to pull out a short skirt she had also gifted me that I was not particularly fond of. Before I could argue, she slung it onto the bed.

“Work with me here, Bella,” she said sternly.

I pulled on the black skirt without a fight. Alice finished off my outfit with a pair of expensive black leather boots.

“And those were a gift from Esme, before you think of disputing them,” she lectured.

“No, I like them. At least they’re covering more of my skin,” I said, zipping them up.

Alice peaked her eyebrows, a smirk budding on her face as she closed my bag. I felt the rush of blood on my complexion again. “Alice – “

“Come on, let’s go before you lose it,” she said quickly, pulling my hand and leading me out of my room and down the stairs.

Charlie didn’t bother looking away from the television as we called a quick goodbye to him. Alice carried me through the slush in a movement so brief that I had no time to process it, placing me in the passenger seat of her small yellow Porsche. Forks blurred outside the windows and in the darkness of the car, it was easier for me to talk about what I was getting myself into.

“Does he…” I asked in her direction, not finishing the thought.

“I don’t think I should really say anything, Bella.” She answered, plainly.

“Since when do you keep things to yourself, Alice?”

She chuckled quietly, “Whatever I say now is not going to help. I’m just dropping you off. You’re not the only one with Valentine’s Day plans, you know.”

“That’s not fair,” I complained. “He’s seen whatever you’ve seen. He’s not going into this blind like I am.”

“Oh, yes he is,” she said proudly. “I’ve been careful to stay away from him today – and it’s not quite clear what’s going to happen. You’ve only been growing bolder in the last few hours.”

Bolder? I certainly didn’t feel it. In the light of the dashboard, I saw Alice turn to me as the car began to slow. We were already in the driveway. When the car stopped, I felt a quick breeze from the opening and closing of her door. She had slung my bag over her shoulder quickly before arriving at my door to help me to the porch steps. I doubted even Alice thought I was that uncoordinated to walk a few feet without falling; she was carrying me everywhere to keep the boots safe, I thought. She set me down on the porch and walked ahead of me into the house. I followed her in, confused.

“I thought you said you were just dropping me off?”

                  We were in the living room when she said, “I am. Edward isn’t here yet. He had an errand to run. He’ll be here soon and we’ll be gone – don’t worry.”

                  A fresh blush met my cheeks as I locked eyes with the another set in the room. Rosalie was perched on the edge of the sofa, bent over the coffee table arranging what looked like a large photo album. She had small papers and photos scattered all over the table, some in small piles on the floor beside her. She gazed up at me with the come-to-be-expected level of enthusiasm I generally received, but there was a hint of something else in her expression. It caught me by surprise and left me gawking at her silently. Rosalie’s appearance always struck me, but tonight she was especially beautiful. Her tight satin dress was just the perfect shade of red to compliment her equally satin skin, her golden hair a perfect, elegant twist, and her long bare legs crossed in front of her were only further elongated by her strappy, red stilettos. Alice had done her best with me, but I felt myself self-consciously tug at the hem of my skirt.

                  That inexplicable look that I had caught in Rosalie’s expression seemed to grow stronger as she gauged my assessment of her. A small smile crossed her lips as she looked back to what she was working on and I looked to Alice, who was dancing back down the stairs now. I hadn’t noticed her departure, but she was already redressed in an ensemble that mirrored the glamour of Rosalie’s. Alice bent one leg up behind her, fastening the tiny buckle on the strap of her heel, careful not to bend and crease the fabric on her burgundy slip-dress.

“Alright, Rose. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.” Alice rolled her eyes at me quickly before Rosalie noticed. Alice had her keys in her tiny hands as she walked my direction to head for the door.

“I will see you tomorrow,” she said with a coy grin.

Rosalie was out the door faster than I could follow. I turned to Alice as she moved at a more mortal pace. “Where are you going?” I asked.

Alice waved as she replied, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Bella!” The door was shut behind her then. I heard the muffled roar of her Porsche as she and Rosalie left me behind. I assumed that I was completely alone then. I was curious to know where they were going, but my mind was busy calculating other worries. I stood in the Cullens’ living room, taking in the sheer silence. The only sound was coming from the low burning fire still crackling dimly in the fireplace. I unlocked my tense limbs to move toward the heat. I stopped briefly to survey Rosalie’s project and flipped through a couple of pages on the bound album.

Were these all valentines? I picked up a few loose papers from the table and skimmed them quickly. It seemed that Rosalie had been collecting notes from her admirers for decades, compiling the highlights in an album with cards dating back to 1929. Some of the earlier letters were from when she was still human, if I wasn’t mistaken. A few authors were brave enough to sign their names, but most were anonymous confessions. I spent more time snooping through Rosalie’s valentines than I should have, but part of me thought that she must have wanted me to see them. Why else would she have left them all here?

I focused myself again and took a seat on the edge of the hearth.

                  I was glad I had a moment to gather myself and took the opportunity to take a few deep, but unsteady, breaths. Why was I so unnerved? I closed my eyes and tried to summon my buried fantasies of Edward. There I let myself imagine him, pulling me tightly to his chest, letting his lips roam my jaw, my neck, and the dips of my collarbones. What would he look like bare? I’d only been able to guess the parts of him that were always just beyond my reach. I let those thoughts in too, imagining my own fingers tracing patterns around the curves of his muscles. To bring him close to me, skin to skin – the thought alone painted my face in a soft blush. I bit my lip, letting go a full breath I had been holding. I opened my eyes then and immediately found him.

He was standing across the room from me, a statue of indescribable, sculpted beauty, leaning on the wall casually. He had a peaceful expression resting in his features, but his bright golden eyes were burning with something I couldn’t explain. My favorite crooked smile slowly crossed his lips as his eyes seemed to search my body. I blushed more deeply, a decision forming more firmly in my mind.

I loved him, purely, and every ounce of my body and soul ached to be his. It was exactly the reason I had asked him to change me himself. I wanted his venom to alter me permanently, his lips on my skin to be the last human sensation I’d ever feel. I wanted to be tangibly his, forever; for Edward to lay claim to me in an absolute and eternal way. If I was his, then he was mine. This desire burned in me more brightly in this moment than it ever had. But there were other human sensations I ached for now. And suddenly, I was sure I was not willing to sacrifice them.

Edward moved slowly across the room to perch in front of me. The height of the hearth and his tall body in a crouch before me, leveled us to be equally face-to-face. As he bent, he balanced a small, thin velvet box on my knees. I made no move to open it, so he chuckled lightly and opened it to reveal a small glittering heart-shaped charm. Even in the dim firelight, the brilliant crystal’s intricate cuts glinted countless sparkling rays of color. It was hung on a silver chain as thin as thread.

He was the first to break the silence.

“It was my mother’s.” He shrugged deprecatingly. “I inherited quite a few baubles like this. I’ve given some to Esme, Alice, and Rosalie throughout the years. So, clearly, this is not a big deal in any way.” I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to stare down, not quite ready to speak. “A hand-me-down,” he reminded me sternly. “You said that was allowable.”

“I guess I did say that,” I said in a whisper.

He chuckled at my reluctance. “I thought it was a good representation,” he continued. “It’s hard and cold.” He laughed. “And it throws rainbows in the sunlight.”

“You forgot the most important similarity,” I murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

“My heart is just as silent,” he mused. “And it, too, is yours.”

I offered the box to him and moved to gather my hair away from my neck, turning to the fire. As he moved to clasp the chain around my neck, I said, “Thank you for both.”

His fingers seemed to linger on the skin of my throat as I turned back to face him. Our lips were only inches apart now. I moved my hands to wrap them around his neck.

“No, thank you. It’s a relief to have you accept a gift so easily. Good practice for you, too.” He grinned, flashing his teeth.                   His eyes wandered down to take pride in his accepted gift. I was grateful for the plunging neckline of my sweater when his gaze lingered where the crystal charm hung delicately above my chest. I made a mental note to thank Alice later and took a steadying breath. I began to feel cautiously optimistic. Perhaps getting what I wanted would not be as difficult as I’d expected it to be.

No, of course it was going to be just exactly that difficult. I cleared my throat lightly and braced myself. “Can we discuss something?” I asked. “I’d appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded.”

He hesitated for a moment and returned his eyes to mine. “I’ll give it my best effort,” he agreed, cautious now. He unwrapped my arms from around his neck as he moved to put space between us.

“I’m not breaking any rules here,” I promised. “This is strictly about you and me.”

“Listen to your heart fly,” he murmured. “It’s fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings,” he repeated the analogy he had applied to me earlier in the day. “Are you all right?”

“I’m great,” I said formally. I wondered why I was being so formal.

“Please go on then,” he encouraged.

“Well, I guess, first, I wanted to talk to you about that whole ridiculous marriage condition.”

“It’s only ridiculous to you. What about it?” He was backing further away from me now.

I leaned closer to him, placing my hands on his knees to keep him near me. “I was wondering… is that open to negotiation?”

Edward frowned, serious now. “I’ve already made the largest concession by far and away – I’ve agreed to take your life against my better judgment. And that ought to entitle me to a few compromises on your part.”

“No.” I shook my head, focusing on keeping my face composed. “That part’s a done deal. We’re not discussing that now. I want to hammer out some other details.”

He looked at me suspiciously. “Which details do you mean exactly?”

I hesitated. “Let’s clarify your prerequisites first – matrimony?” I made it sound like a dirty word.

“Yes.” He smiled a wide smile. “To start with.”

The shock spoiled my carefully composed expression. “There’s more?”

“Well,” he said, his face calculating. “If you’re my wife, then what’s mine is yours… So there would be no issue with Dartmouth tuition.”

“Anything else? While you’re already being absurd?”

“Time. I’m finding it quite ephemeral… like it’s slipping through my fingers,” as he spoke, he rose his finger tips to sweep a gentle line over my exposed collarbones.

I shook my head, trying to forget his distracting touch. “No. No time. That’s a deal breaker.”

He sighed longingly. “Just a year or two?”

I refused to give into his burning amber eyes. “What else?”

“That’s it. Unless you’d like to talk cars…”

He grinned widely when I grimaced, then took my hand and began playing with my fingers. “I didn’t realize there was anything else you wanted besides being transformed into a monster yourself. I’m extremely curious.” His voice was low and soft. The slight edge would have been hard to detect if I hadn’t known it so well.

I paused, staring at his hand on mine. I still didn’t know how to begin. I felt his eyes watching me and I was afraid to look up. The blood began to burn in my face.

His cool hand cupped my cheek. “You’re blushing?” he asked in surprise. I kept my eyes down. “Please, Bella, the suspense is painful.”

I bit my lip.

“Bella.” His tone reproached me now, reminding me that it was hard for him when I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Edward,” I said, nervous, staring at a freckle on my wrist. “There’s something that I want to do before I’m not human anymore.”

He waited for me to continue. I didn’t. My face was hot.

“Whatever you want,” he encouraged, anxious and completely clueless.

“Do you promise?” I muttered, knowing my attempt to trap him with his words was not going to work. But he was unable to resist my coaxing.

“Yes,” he said. I looked up through my lashes to see that his eyes were earnest and confused. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”

I couldn’t believe how awkward and idiotic I felt. I was too innocent. I didn’t have the faintest idea how to be seductive. I would just have to settle for flushed and self-conscious.

“You,” I mumbled almost incoherently.

“I’m yours.” He smiled, still oblivious, trying to hold my gaze as I looked away again.

I took a deep breath and leaned closer to him, pressing my lips to his. He kissed me back, bewildered but willing, his lips gentle against mine. I began to slide my hands from his knees, up his thighs and slowly toward his waist. I hadn’t gotten very far when I all but heard the click in his head as he put together my words and my actions, his lips freezing in place.

He pushed me away at once, his face heavily disapproving.

“Be reasonable, Bella.”

“Edward, I –. “ He had cut me off, placing a single finger over my lips to quiet me.

“No.” His face was hard.

I was surprised by my reaction to his dismissal. I raised my hand to swat at his. My action didn’t move him, of course, but he moved his hand from my mouth in response. “You are not going to shush me,” I said sternly. “We’re here discussing terms of an eternity together – marriage and other promises – but sex?” I said the word louder than the rest. “Edward, why can’t we talk about sex?”

He was frozen there, hands at his side, eyes locked on mine. I felt the charge of adrenaline passing quicker than it had come. We sat there for a moment in silence with only my quick breathing and rapid pulse as audio. I shifted my gaze down as the rush subsided. It took me a minute to recognize why I was staring at my freckle again, the blush returning – why my stomach felt uneasy, why there was too much moisture in my eyes, why I suddenly wanted to run from the room.

Rejection washed through me, instinctive and strong.

I knew it was irrational. He’d been very clear on other occasions that my safety was the only factor. Yet I’d never made myself quite so vulnerable before. It was hard to beg for the mercy of an angel.

Edward moved then, bringing his hand up to my chin to pull my face up until I had to look at him again. He scrutinized my face for a long moment while I tried unsuccessfully to twist away from his gaze. His brow furrowed, and his expression became horrified as I continued to fight off the onslaught of water in my eyes.

His other hand rushed to my cheek, his thumb stroking there reassuringly. “You know why I have to say no,” he murmured. “You know that I want you, too.”

“Do you?” I whispered, my voice full of accusation and doubt.

He held my face at my jaw now, his fingers on my neck at the base of my hair. “Of course I do, you beautiful, oversensitive girl.” He laughed once, and then his voice was bleak. “Doesn’t everyone? I feel like there’s a line behind me, jockeying for position, waiting for me to make a big enough mistake… You’re too desirable for your own good.”

It seemed like he wanted to press on, anxiety flooding him as it had me throughout the day. I took a breath.

“Tell me if I have anything wrong,” I tried to sound detached. “Your demands are marriage, college, more time, and a faster car.”

“Only the first is a demand,” he said taking a breath. “The others are merely requests.”

“And my lone, solitary demand is – “

“Demand?” he interrupted, on edge again.

“Yes, demand.” I said confidently, looping my fingers around his wrists and tugging until he dropped them. I was not going to concede, now that I knew he wanted this as badly as I did. I would have to be brave for the both of us. I kept my gaze locked on his, placing a hand on his chest to request more space between us.

Edward immediately responded, backing up slightly and resting on his knees with room in front of him. Without breaking the contact we had, I slid down so that we were both on our knees. I brought both hands to the collar of his shirt and began to unbutton slowly, never moving my eyes from his.

“Please,” I begged. “There is nothing I want more than you.”

He took a deep breath. I was surprised that it sounded a little unsteady.

“I could kill you,” he whispered.

I had the last button undone then and slid the fabric from his shoulders to the floor. I was gliding my hands down his chest and placing my lips over his heart when I murmured against his skin. “I don’t think you could.”

As I kissed him there, a low sound escaped his lips. A moan? My body ached in a way it never had. I felt electrified. My heart jolted, words tumbling out of my mouth to take advantage of the sudden uncertainty in his eyes. “Please, try,” I pleaded.

His hands were wrapped around my biceps then, his head bent down to bring his lips to my ear, making me shiver. “This is unbearable. So many things I’ve wanted to give you – and this is what you demand. Do you have any idea how painful it is, refusing you when you plead with me this way?”

“Then don’t refuse,” I suggested breathlessly.

He didn’t respond. I tossed my head back to catch my breath, letting my hair fall down behind me. Edward’s hands still held my arms firmly. “Please,” I tried again.

He bent his head to my neck. “Bella…” He shook his head slowly, but it didn’t feel like denial as his face, his lips, moved back and forth across my throat. It felt more like surrender. My heart sputtered frantically when his lips finally stopped to embrace my skin. The same low sound spilled from my lips now, which seemed to hit Edward with the same electrical shock.

His grip tensed instantly and I was sure he was going to push me away again.

I was wrong.

His lips were on mine, his hands pulling me up to close the space between us. His mouth was not gentle; there was a brand-new edge of conflict and desperation in the way his lips moved. When his hands moved into my hair, I locked my arms around his neck, tightening my hold on him. To my suddenly overheated skin, his body felt colder than ever. I trembled, but it was not from the chill.

He didn’t stop kissing me. I was the one who had to break away, gasping for air. Even then his lips did not leave my skin, they just moved to my throat. So quickly that I wasn’t even sure how it happened, I was in his arms, his lips still exploring my skin, as we nearly flew through the house. Human velocity was not fast enough for him. We were in his bedroom then, still locked in each other’s arms as he fell onto his back on the bed.

The thrill of victory was a strange high; it made me feel powerful. Brave. My hands weren’t unsteady now and my fingers traced the patterns I had dreamed of a thousand times. He was too beautiful. What was the word he had used? Unbearable – that was it. His beauty was too much to bear…

I was on top of him, our lips pulled together again and moving in heated sync. Edward’s hands were exploring my body. His hands were tight around my waist, straining me closer to him. All I wanted was my skin to be bare against his – his grip made it difficult to reach to remove my sweater, but not impossible. Just as I had my stomach exposed, cold iron fetters locked around my wrists, and pulled my hands above my head, which was suddenly on a pillow.

His lips were at my ear again. “Bella,” he murmured, his voice warm and velvet. “Stop trying to take your clothes off.”

“Do you want to do that part?” I asked breathlessly.

“Not tonight,” he answered softly. His lips were slower now against my cheek and jaw, all the urgency gone.

“Edward, don’t –,” I started to argue, trying to free my hands and arching my body to mold myself more closely to him.

“I’m not saying no,” he reassured me. “I’m just saying not tonight.”

I had never felt frustration this way before. I was restless, eyes wild and questioning on his.

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” he laughed. “Out of the two of us, which do you think is more unwilling to give the other what they want? You just promised to marry me before you do any changing, but if I give in tonight, what guarantee do I have that you won’t go running off to Carlisle in the morning? I am – clearly – much less reluctant to give you what you want. Therefore… you first.”

I exhaled with a loud huff. “I have to marry you first?” I asked in disbelief.

“That’s the deal – take it or leave it. A compromise.” Edward pressed himself to me, urging me to accept his terms. His arms wrapped around me, and he began kissing me in a way that should be illegal. Too persuasive – it was duress, coercion. I tried to keep a clear head… and failed quickly and absolutely.

“How did this happen?” I moaned, and not in a good way. “I thought I was holding my own tonight – for once – and now, all of a sudden – “

“You’re engaged,” he finished.

“Edward, no.” I objected.

“Are you going back on your word?” he demanded. He pulled back to read my face. His expression was entertained. He was having fun.

I glared at him, trying to ignore the way his smile made my heart react.

“Are you?” he pressed.

“No,” I groaned. “No. I’m not. I just need time to think. I can’t think right now – give me some time to think.”

He kissed me again quickly. Another too persuasive kiss.

“Take all the time you need.”

He kissed me another time. “Do you get the feeling that everything is backward?” he laughed. “Traditionally, shouldn’t you be arguing my side, and I yours?”

“There isn’t much that’s traditional about you and me.”

Neither of us would surrender in this moment – that was clear. But there were compromises that were pending on the horizon. And, if nothing, I had this night to service my fantasies for awhile. I bit my lip and chuckled.

“I’m curious,” I sighed. “What exactly did you have planned for tonight?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he was up and out of the bed, a hand extended toward me.

I let out my last sigh of contest and threw my hands down on the bed to heave myself up. Edward laughed to himself as I slid to the edge of the bed and stood. I fidgeted in my sweater and straightened my skirt as I walked toward him. I took his hand and noticed him taking in my figure again.

I raised a brow. “Did you want to get back in bed?”

Edward chuckled again, shaking his head. “No, but please do remind me to thank Alice in the morning.”

I rolled my eyes as he led me from his bedroom and into the rest of our romantic evening alone.

PART TWO

 ____

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Twilight Saga world, which is trademarked by Stephenie Meyer and Little Brown Books. All characters referenced are owned by Stephenie Meyer, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the Twilight Saga. The story told here is of my own invention. This story is for entertainment only – fun – and is not part of the official story line. I am grateful to Stephenie Meyer for the creation of these characters and I in no way am profiting from the creation and publication of this story. Some lines are directly quoted from Meyer’s book, Eclipse, and I do not claim to own Meyer’s words.

References:

Meyer, Stephenie. Eclipse. Little, Brown, 2013.

Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, and W. E. Williams. Tennyson: Poems. Penguin, 1985.

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: The Return of an Old Enemy"

Chapter 11: A Joust Worth Remembering!

It was late afternoon, around 4 o'clock in the afternoon to our clock. Crowds gather to the center ring, ready for the evening's big event, Dionysus's joust. On opposite sides, Dionysus and Ares stood like two forces of nature. Ares prepared his chariot, now being pulled by Delphi's most capable mules, glared at Dionysus from across the ring. Dionysus, stared back not as a proud and fierce as the bulls he's compared to, but more of a scared fawn looking straight at the wolf eyeing it.

He glances at Hermes, Apollo and Ariadne whom were sitting within the crowd, feeling a little courage, he rides his chariot slowly towards to the ring, Ares following soon after, he clears his throat, "LADIES, GENTLEMEN AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN AND BEYOND! I give you the joust of the millenia! Me, your humble ruler versus Ares!", he reached his arm out to show the crowd a begrudged Ares. "May the best god win!", he finished his speech, he felt a cold sweat run down his tempal. "Okie dokie, just relax-", he looked again to Hermes and Apollo, he could see them both had a glint in their eyes, "-you guys better have done a good job, I can't bare losing her.", he quietly whispered to himself.

Ares however, was revved up like an angry boar, ready to once again gouge his prey. He clenched his teeth as if he was going to go for the jugular. "I'm going to wreck your shit Dio.", he growled through his teeth. He and Dionysus both stopped a little parallel to each other, setting their positions for the joust. The two chariots were ready, the lances pointing to each other....and the chariots darted to each other as if time itself slowed to a crawl. Things were looking like they were going according to plan, but fate is a force even the gods can't predict. It was going to come on four legs, orange fur and long whiskers.

Back at the food tent, the little lycan pup was still rummaging through the cloths and pillows, now all shredded open creating a storm of down feathers. He played and leaped, knawed and ravaged the pillows as if they were rabbits. Until, he heard a mew, just outside the tent. All his attention went from enjoying himself, to finding the thing that made the noise. Sniffing the air, his nose lead to the corner of ravaged tent, again a mew was heard. He poked his head from under the tent, seeing a stray cat. The pup had no idea what a cat was, but he hated it like any self respecting canidae. He gave the most hardy growl his little body could muster and barked. The cat arched, hairs on end and it hissed. The pup matched ferocity with the cat, barking again he gave chase, determined to hunt it. The car let out a yowl and ran off, the cat and pup both have way to a cat and mouse chase throughout the feild. Several Delphians saw this oddly shaped wolf pup chasing the cat, some knowing very well this was no dog, it was definitely something of a beast. The pup chased the cat....into the jousting field.

Within the meaningless seconds, Ares felt victory was a red dye tipped lance away, "oh I can't wait to see the look on that fatass's face when I get take Delphi for myself!", he thought to himself. He could feel the warm wave of confidence run down his back and the cool breeze of the chariot's speed. His face with a manic grin, contrary to Dionysus's look of fear and worry. All Dionysus could do was hope that he wouldn't lose everything he cared for.

Ares it seemed had the joust set, until he saw a flash of orange followed by a little blurr of greyish brown. "Wait wh-", suddenly just time began to start walking instead of crawling, he heard the haunting sound of something breaking. He looked to his right and saw the wheel broke right off it's wheelhub, while at the same time, the sight of the two beasts of burdens frightened the chariot mules. The mules reared back, braying in fear of the fast moving things. The same had happened to Dionysus's mules, but he quickly reacted to the situation. He tugged at the riens as hard as he could, and tugged to his right and the whole chariot took a remarkable slide. Just narrowly avoiding hitting Ares's chariot.

It's an incredible chaos! As Ares's chariot continues to crash down to the dirt, the mules struggling with the yoke and shaft, Dionysus's mules grind to a halt and both gods seem to have lost control. The two gods, now more concerned about not dieing from an unfortunate chariot accident, where orbiting the field in a cloud of dust.

The whole joust had become the world's most heavenly mess. Hermes looked at Apollo, mildly glaring at him, all Apollo could do is gawk like everyone in the crowd. He looked at Hermes to see if he was enjoying the sight as much as he was but it was clear Hermes was more mildly upset. "What did YOU do?", Hermes asked. Even he wanted to know what did Apollo do to help sabotage Ares, because even Hermes himself wouldn't have thought of something as simple as messing with the chariot.

Apollo blushed a little with childish shame, "oh nothing much.....I just loosened a thing...or two.", he explained that he loosened the wheelhub to make sure it was guaranteed the wheel would fly off.", Hermes was dumbfounded yet actually impressed at the simplicity of it all.

Next to Apollo, Ariadne was worried about Dionysus, hoping he didn't hurt himself too much. "Oh no my dearest Dionysus! Please let him be alright.", she worried out loud. Apollo gave her a friendly pay on her shoulder.

"There there, he's been through worse.", Apollo assured her. He noticed a few people shouting and asking about the joust's results. Did Ares win? Or Did Dionysus win? As the dust cleared, both chariots, both pair of mules and both gods, in a pile of a kerfuffle. Ares rubbed his hurting head, all he could remember was something whizzing through the jousting feild and BOOM, now he was laying on the side of his own chariot...belly down. His thoughts started to collect and he than quickly remembered the wheel, now fuming with anger.

Dionysus, still reeling from his epic drift, was seeing stars for a few seconds. His thoughts ran as fast as the stars did and he felt a pit in his stomach and sinking in his heart. He shook his head, as he noticed a bright, green mark on Ares's left thigh. His gaping mouth quickly transformed into a smile, he had won by luck itself. Before Ares could turn around to strangle Dionysus, a satyr shouts "LORD DIONYSUS IS THE WINNER!". The crowd roared with cheer and merriment for their patron god had won as expected. Ariadne leaps up and cheered, she hastily went to Dionysus to hug the big fool. "You could have gotten yourself hurt!", Ariadne gave him a slap on the face, but just as quickly she was furious, she hugged him again. Relieved that he's alright. Dionysus picked her up, embracing her, he was relieved that she wasn't going to be trinketed away to his war mongering brother.

Ares was confused, he looked all over his body and found that bright green paint on his thigh, it stuck out like a sore thumb, evidence of his defeat. He looked at the cheering crowd and saw Apollo and Hermes both giggling, it was clear what had happened. Those two had sabotaged him, all this because his "whiny brother was a sore loser and couldn't stand loosing in front of his adoring followers" his thoughts roared. He stood there, stewing in his own anger. He growl, snarled, and baired his teeth but he took a deep breath, knowing well that if all of this calamity happened, it was obvious it wasn't written in the stars. He huffed and snorted like a bull, he wasn't going to dignify Dionysus with a congratulations. He stormed off, to find his horses and someone to fix his chariot.

About an hour later, after Dionysus's decree of curfew had to be upheld as promised, Ares was still at the stables, waiting for his chariot to be fixed by a supposed reputable repair nymph. He sat down on a stool, brooding his loss of the perfect training ground for an army he would have to wait another century. "Bastard drunk asshole, I swear if that golden twink and thieving gnat Hermes didn't fuck up my chances...hmf. I would have won.....I want a rema-" suddenly, he heard the sniffling and whinnying of a dog. He turned his head to the sound, and slowly followed it to a pile of empty barrels. He looked inside some of the barrels, he moved some aside, he couldn't seem to find the sound. Than, he finally found the source, it was the little pup.

It had seemed that shortly after he and the cat zoomed across the field, their chase ensued. He and the cat had a tussle, they 'battled' it out but towards the end, the pup lost to the cat's claws. A scratch across his little snout, few on his body and arms, tears running down his face, poor thing had its first taste of defeat with a little side of pain. Ares watched on, just wondering who would put this poor misshapen dog in tattered clothes. "To make my day even worse, these drunken fools decided to defile an innocent dog. Well... No use having two souls suffer...", he leaned down and saw the pitiful little, "hey buddy.", he spoke softly.

The lycan pup looked up, perked his ears in shock and let out a little snarl. To the pup, Ares was a towering opponent, he was going to do everything to defend himself. Ares however, was actually curious about the pup, it was definitely a funny looking dog with oddly long arms, legs and paws. He gently picks the pup by the scruff of his tattered chiton, as he does so, the pup grabs on to his forearm and knaws on the bareskin. The pup tried to dig in deep but even his little sharp teeth couldn't break Ares's skin.

Ares gave a hardy chuckle, "You have a lot fire in you, ugh buddy? I'm not going to lie, I have no idea what kinda dog you are....Fuck it, you'll make a fine addition to my pack little one...I think I'll name you.....Ajax.", he scratched the pup behind his ear with his free hand. The pup suddenly relaxed as he felt the pleasant starching of a persistent itch had gone, his tail wagged with glee and even relaxed his grip on Ares's forearm, letting Ares carry him like a small child. Delighted, Ares carried him to his chariot to bring back to Olypmus.

Back at Dionysus's veranda, the boys were enjoying a late afternoon cup of wup. Apollo was playing his lyre while Hermes, Ariadne and Dionysus relaxed after helping the citizens put away the maritals from the games. Dionysus with Ariadne in one arm and a kylix in the other hand, "man, that was great...did you see that sweet drift, I knew Ares was going to do something weird so I ha-?", he drunkenly went on.

"Dionysus love, you know very well you didn't plan anything.", Ariadne included. She was playing with his curly, thick locks. Dionysus blushed a little on top of his rosey glow of wine, laid the side of his head on to her, "yes darling.", he responded, "shame Ares couldn't stay for our little celebration.", he said with an air of irony. Apollo looked at Dionysus and shook his head, he knew he was just mostly relieved about Ares losing.

Hermes was swirling around his kylix, he started to ponder about the event and how did it go so wrong. He knew he and Apollo had sufficiently sabotaged Ares and his chariot yet the beginning of the joust just felt odd, he felt something was going and that a perfectly simple day wasn't going to end on a high note somehow. "Say....did anyone actually see what that THING that ran in between you guys were?", he asked taking a sip of the wine.

The rest of them all started to ponder as well, Dionysus clicked his tounge, ".....maybe it was just a dog chasing a cat or something.....", he bluntly put it. "Wait....do we have dogs in Delphi?", he asked Ariadne.

"Of course we have dogs in Delphi, Dionysus. Many of our farmers have herding dogs to protect the livestock.", she responded.

Apollo chimed in, "hmm.....yes it could....but didn't the dog look off too? It looked a little lanky....and...also....did anyone knoticed the dog.....wearing a tunic?". He hopeed someone around knew what he had seen.

This comment sent shivers down Hermes's spine, he suddenly remembered his encounter with the wolf creature. "Ugh.....you guys don't think it was-", he was interrupted by the sound of Kale.

Kale strutted towards the gods, "My Lord Dionysus, the citizens would like to express their gratitude and appreciation for your entertaining performance this evening....buuuut there was a small complaint.", he eloquently noted.

Dionysus was a little surprised about this news, "what complaint?", he asked. To his knowledge the whole thing was a success regardless of the terrible bet that had taken place behind closed curtains.

Kale, with little to no hesitation, "Well the main food tent was absolutely FuCkInG destroyed, someone ate all the roasted goat, most of the breads and ugh absolutely RUINED the furnishings I worked so hard placing. I am just floored, my Lord.", he let out a depressed sigh.

Dionysus was confused, did someone break in the food tent or was this just evidence of an animal attack? He cleared his throat, "ugh, I am so sorry about that, Kale, I saw it earlier in the morning it looked really nice. Did anyone see anything?", he asked, he just hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.

Kale composes himself a little with a deep light breath, "well it looked like animal was in there...but it could have been some kid in a wolf costume or something just making mischief.", he deducted. However, Delphians weren't known for pulling such pranks, even for misbehaving youths, this would be considered to be in poor taste considering the farming population.

Ariadne slowly looked to Dionysus, suspecting he knew about something. "An animal you say?", she asked. The hair on the back of Dionysus's neck stand on end, his MAN senses were tingling, and his wife was in on it. He chuckled nervously, "maaaaybe it was just a stray dog?", his reassuring comment wasn't going to be enough.

However, Kale wasn't helping. "Well....a few people did see what came out of the tent, they saw it chase a cat all over the event field. It looked a tiny baby wolf in a chiton? I mean what kind of depraved jerk would put clothes on a wolf?". This was the final nail in the coffin, at least for Dionysus's chances of sleeping in the same villa as Ariadne.

She let out a huff, crossed her arms and crossed her legs. "What is going on Dionysus,I thought I told you not to go on with this whole thing if you KNEW if there were those beasts out there.", she was stern and her eyes could be comparable to Hera's stare of marital disappointment.

Dionysus, tried to avoid the conversation and sipped his kylix. He looked off to the side like a child who did something wrong. Hermes entered into the conversation, "Ugh to be fair, it was a BABY...and..ugh...there was just one...so...ugh...I guess it didn't do anything.", Inspite of this argument, he knew this meant that there was definitely more if these wolf creatures. "Ugh...you didn't see where it went...did you?", he asked Kale.

Scratching his meticulously groomed goatee, Kale nodded 'yes', 'I believe some of the attendees saw it run off into the field or "something" of that direction.", he replied.

Dionysus leaped up, "than it's gone! Good, let's all just hit the hay and get some sleep!", he spoke in a happy voice of a man who knew he was in deep trouble. He felt Ariadne gently pull his ear, his body flowed to the direction of Ariadne.

She gave that small smile that deceptively masked her frustration, "Dio... sweetie......you're sleeping with the leopards....not for a wekk....but for a month.", she gently whispered in his ear, patted him on his face. Regardless if she was angry with Dionysus, it seemed by the end of the day no one actually got hurt. She turn around to walk back home, "Goodnight, gentlemen.", she left right back.

The four gentlemen were all standing by themselves watching Ariadne leave, Apollo sighed and turned to Dionysus. "So....where do the leopards sleep?", he asked Dionysus.

Dionysus stared at Ariadne with loving relief. "Well, they sleep....that way.", he pointed towards the dimly lit forested yard were many of his leopards roamed freely. He scratched his chin, satisfied with the whole situation, it could have been worse yet it could have been better. Now his only priority, is to find a soft place to sleep. Before he did so, he turned to Kale and his brothers. "Kale, tell NO ONE of this weird dog shit, deny EVERYTHING and ugh....tell anyone who asked it was leopard. Hermes, Apollo, tommorow....we go and talk to dad about this. Now...I'm going to get serious.", as he said this, tripped on a raised rug and fell over on a pile of lounge pillow. "I'm ok... actually this is pretty comfy....", he muffled.

Apollo and Hermes looked down at Dionysus, wondering if they should help, but there's a likely chance he probably has already dosed off.

[the-darklings]

—𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅;

pairing: john wick x f!reader x santino d’antonio

word count: 9.6k+

summary: “You were friends once.”

warnings: swearing, angst town.

notes: Welcome back to “pain and suffering”. Please fasten your seatbelts, keep your limbs inside the cart at all time, and enjoy your ride!!! Also, thank you for reading this fic. Every note/comment/reblog/message means the world <33

children of ares series: 01 | 02 | 03 | . . | 05 |

[4 YEARS LATER]

“Well, well, if it isn’t my father’s loyal little bitch.”

Your eyes slide towards Iosef, drilling into him with a stony expression. Cocky and as irritating as always. Some things never change.

“Don’t you have kindergarten, little boy?” you wonder out loud.

His nostrils flare, eyes bulging at your dismissive tone and he jumps up from his seat. His friend holds him back, shooting you a brief, panicked look.

“What did you say to me, bitch?” he spits out in harsh Russian as you calmly shrug off your coat, dropping it on an empty chair as you sit down.

You don’t answer him, checking your phone instead, and the spoiled brat continues spitting words he no doubt thinks make him sound tough. It grows old quickly, and your eyes lift back to him again, considering. His friend looks increasingly uncomfortable under your scrutiny.

“Shut up, boy.”

Tarasov’s voice cuts through the room with a coldness that snaps his son’s mouth shut right away. The Russian enters his office calmly, removing his coat as his guards scatter around the room. Your eyes meet and your eyebrows rise in a silent question. Tarasov actually looks apologetic.

“What is it that you’re doing here?”

Iosef bristles at his father’s tone, clearly haven’t expected the older man’s displeasure to be directed his way, and pulls himself out of his friend’s loose hold.

“We need to talk, father,” he informs shakily before shooting a vicious glare your way. “But this bitch needs some manners to be beaten into her first. You didn’t hear the disrespect she showed me. We should—”

“You will shut your mouth and get out of my office,” Tarasov cuts his son’s tantrum off firmly as he pours himself a glass of vodka. “We have business we must discuss.”

“But—”

“I will not repeat myself again, son.”

Iosef stands gaping and chastised, his cheeks flushed a blotchy red. Even the guards look uncomfortable though hardly surprised at the exchange and you suppress a grin. Avi just looks like he’s watching the same episode of soap opera go down for the hundredth time.

The spoiled brat shoots you a dangerous look and you wink at him, crossing your legs and turning to face his father. Iosef spits to the side before storming out of the office and slamming the door loudly in his friend’s face. The spare hurries to open the door after him, scurrying after Iosef and you can’t help but chuckle lightly at the theatrics.

“My apologies about that,” Tarasov mutters in clear irritation, nodding his head towards the door before he gestures at the vodka bottle. “Care for a drink?”

You shrug before nodding, a sly smile in place. “Didn’t take after you, did he?”

Tarasov manages to look both annoyed and put out all at once, and you grin wider when he places a glass of crystal clear vodka in front of you.

“No, I’m afraid he rather took after his mother.”

“My condolences, then.”

Tarasov actually laughs at that and salutes you before drowning the glass in one gulp. Avi offers him the bottle again, and the man pours himself another without hesitation.

“Yes, rather unpleasant woman, is she not?” he muses, and continues without waiting for a reply. “But never mind that. Business always comes first. The ambassadors?”

Your fingers brush against the expensive glass and the liquid inside sloshes to the side. Lifting your eyes, you meet Tarasov’s expectant stare.

“Dead, of course,” you inform him, feeling surprised he would think anything else would have brought you back home. “Did you expect anything else?”

Tarasov leans back in his expensive leather seat, regarding you with a hard, searching look. “It took you longer than planned.”

You shrug again, feeling peeved but knowing better than to let Tarasov smell a weak spot. “They were very paranoid. I had to go deep undercover to gain their trust. But it’s only two months. Nothing that affects your expansion plans. I was very thorough. No traces will be found.”

Tarasov nods his head, looking pleased and takes another sip. “So,” he begins deliberately, and you feel his scrutiny shift into something less casual and more ruthless—the very thing you know him for. “We move closer towards the end of our partnership.”

Partnership? Is that what he thinks this thing between you is? Avi, too, blinks as if taken aback by the choice of words but doesn’t comment.

“Two more jobs, yes,” you intone flatly, staring him down.

Tarasov’s lips twist thoughtfully. “Perhaps more than that.”

Your hand drops away from the glass, and your eyes narrow. “No,” you say, your voice icy. “Two jobs. No ifs or buts about it.”

Tarasov’s chin rises and his lips curve. In that action, the last five years are stripped back and you’re staring at Tarasov who came to New York with a vision of control, of power. While your relationship has more than mellowed out over the years, there are still rare moments like these. Glimpses of the powerhouse of a man he is. Brilliant. But cautious too. That’s one thing you always admired about him—his relentless but clever manoeuvring. It would be a lie to say you haven’t learned much from him because you honestly have.  

He hasn’t laid a hand on you since that first time either. But only because you have never given a chance to do so again.

A part of you likes to imagine that you’ve gained his respect over the years, but you have no illusions of where exactly Tarasov thinks you belong.

Beneath him. Because he always has to be in control.

“Santino D’Antonio makes you brave,” he remarks softly, his accusation clear and you scoff under your breath. Tarasov’s slight smile transforms into a frown and it sharpens his features into someone to be feared. Respected. “Do you think his favour makes you immune? Your contract is still mine. Do not forget that.”

“You don’t have to worry,” you shoot back easily, not missing a beat. “My loyalty is yours. For now.”

“You do realise how easy it would be for me to open a contract for your head if it wasn’t, don’t you?”

Your smile sharpens and you laugh. Low and cold.

“By all means,” you tell him, cocking your head to one side as you fight back a grin. Once it would have terrified you to hear him say something like that. But now you feel amused at best. “The last two months have been so boring. I would love to get some free entertainment. But rest assured that if you send anyone after me, I will send you their cold, dead corpses back.”

Tarasov’s lips curl in a faint sneer and he takes another swing of his drink. He drowns this glass too. His austere blue eyes drill into you but you don’t flinch away, holding his stare.

“You’re not John.”

Your smile fades at his soft, mocking accusation. He speaks it in Russian for added insult and for a moment you only peer at him without a word.

There’s a rustle of clothes when a few guards reach for their weapons as if sensing the drop in the mood. Avi shoots you a warning look but you don’t bother turning his way.

You’re not smiling anymore.

Tarasov watches you with an expression that challenges you to do something. To shed blood and forfeit your life.

Years ago, you might have. Anger always burned brighter in you than fear. Something tells you that years ago, you would have leapt right at him, sliced him open even if you were shot moments later. The satisfaction of knowing that you’re taking him out with you would have been enough.

Instead, you sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before you open them again, looking right at him. You stand to your feet and the guards shift, pulling their weapons out. As if that would make a difference. If you wanted to kill Tarasov he would be dead already. But you can’t. Not yet. Rules, rules, rules. Winston would be proud.

You grab your still full glass and lift it to your eyes, inspecting the clear liquid inside.

“You’re right,” you state calmly, shooting him a brief look. “I’m not John. I’ve failed plenty of times in the past. But let me remind you of one very interesting tidbit of information…”

Lifting the glass to your lips, you drown the vodka inside, hissing slightly at the vivid burn you feel spreading down your throat. You roll the empty glass in your hand before turning it upside down and slamming it on the oak table separating you. One of the guards points his pistol at you.

You ignore him, leaning closer towards Tarasov with a grin.

“Unlike John, I’m still here.”

You incline back slowly, allowing your ghost of a smile to linger and turn to grab your coat.

Tarasov watches you from under heavily furrowed brows, looking less than pleased. You wave at Avi, too, knowing that neither of them is going to attempt something today. Killing you now would be too much of a loss for Tarasov at such a crucial time. He’s already lost John—a loss you know haunts him to this day even though it’s been five years already. John might have almost singlehandedly created the foundation upon which Tarasov established his kingdom, but the battle for power never ends. Not in New York. He can’t afford to lose another triumph card. Not right now, at least.

“I’ll be seeing you around, boss.”

“I always found it to be a rather ugly piece of work.”

Your lips curl into a faint smile when you hear crisp footsteps come to a stop beside you. The painting in front of you glows in the light and you hum, contemplating.

“I don’t know,” you say back, still watching the painting. “It always struck me as a rather lonely piece. An old woman waiting for her beloved to come back home from war, even though she knows he’s dead. Tragic, isn’t it?”

“Depends on your definition of tragedy, I suppose.”

You chuckle and the second voice joins you soon after. It’s an easy moment and you feel the tension in your shoulders melt somewhat. Your head turns left only to be greeted by familiar green eyes and a crooked smirk.

“Santino.”

“Ciao, bella,” he greets, his teeth gleaming in a wide grin. He steps closer and kisses your cheek, lingering for a beat before pulling away. His heady, expensive cologne fills your nose and you watch him when he pulls back. He grips your hand in his own, finally stepping back as he takes you in. “As always, you are a vision.”

You snort but your smile lingers. “Very smooth.”

Santino’s smile widens, knowing and smug. He looks as sharp as always, his tailored three-piece fitting him to perfection. Always one for fine taste.

“I didn’t expect you back in New York for another month,” you begin when he finally lets go of your hand. “Is everything alright?”

He slips his hands into his pockets, peering at you intently. You’ve grown used to the intensity of his regard over the years but sometimes—on a rare occasion—it still manages to catch you off guard.

“I’m touched by your concern, cara mia,” he answers after a pause as if snapping out of deep thought. “But something has, unfortunately, come up. My, ah, father has passed.”

Your eyes widen, lips parting in shock, and you swallow as you continue standing there in awkward silence. “I—” you fumble before sighing. “I would say ‘sorry for your loss’ but…”

“But good riddance, am I right?” Santino guesses with a small, understanding nod. “He was not a particularly loved man or boss. Especially not in his final years.”

“He was still your father. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, the corners of his mouth tilting. “Don’t be. It was a matter of time only.”

You hesitate, an obvious question burning on the tip of your tongue. “And the High Table seat?”

His eyes sharpen and he glances behind him, jerking his head to one side. The guards inside the large gallery room step outside at once, and your eyes flicker to them, startled.

Slowly, you turn your focus back towards Santino, and don’t bother masking your surprise.

“It is not for their ears,” he says by the way of explanation and you control your confused frown. “This discussion I wish to have with you alone, cara mia. Walk with me?”

He offers his arm to you and you take it after a brief pause, regarding him with open curiosity. Linking arms, you start slowly strolling through the large space. Despite the many questions you have, you wait for him to start speaking first. When you glance at him, he appears to be in deep thought and perfectly happy to simply walk with you in silence for the moment.

“We do not know yet,” he begins after another few minutes of stillness. “He left a will, of course. It will be read in two weeks time. His successor will be announced then.”

“But?”

Because you can feel the unspoken word lacing every word Santino speaks and he pauses momentarily, looking towards you.

“But,” he mutters tightly. “If you had to make a guess as to who will be named the next heir?”

“Santino—”

“Indulge me, bella.”  

Exhaling slowly, you frown, thinking your words through. You’ve gotten an insider look into Camorra’s affairs during these last few years through him—a fact that Santino originally received a lot of criticism for, especially from his father. With time and your rising status, the bitter mutters subsided but you know that there’s still those in the Italian ranks that would rather never see you and him in the same room again. Still, your unlikely friendship has brought them a fair amount of success and business, too. 

Partnerships such as yours—John Wick’s old partner and presumed heir to the Camorra seat—always draw attention. Over the years, your “collaborations” have drawn plenty of attention as well. Many considered you either Santino’s whore or Tarasov’s spy. Neither is true but people still like making stories up about your involvement with both men.

You don’t blame them for their suspicion, either. It’s a well-known fact that you work for Tarasov first and foremost, and people rarely let that knowledge slide. The same way they always question the nature of your relationship with Santino. As if it could be defined so easily.

“I think your father saw potential in you,” you start, looking away from his expectant stare. “But perhaps not in the area you see yourself in. And—”

“And?”

“And I think that in these last few years the old man was grooming Gianna for the seat,” you explain hurriedly, though it pains you to do so. “I—sorry. I could be wrong—”

“No, bella,” he disagrees, his voice light. His eyes are dark though, almost like a brimming storm. “I think you are exactly right. On this, we agree. Bravo.”

“Santino—”

“Join me for dinner tonight?” he asks abruptly, stepping so close you feel the brush of his suit. “It’s been three months. I have missed your company.”

You gape for a moment at the sudden change of topic. “I don’t think this is the best time…”

His expression tightens, clearly picking up on your weary tone. “Did something happen?”

Shaking your head, you step to the side, unhooking your arms and let your eyes focus on the beautiful statues around you. “No. Tarasov simply saw it fit to remind me that I’m still his little puppet. I guess you could say I’m a little cranky,” you joke, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

Except, Santino is right there. Only a step away. His eyes are two chips of ice—any previous amusement or ease wiped clean. You’ve seen this side of him plenty of times. Mostly during jobs. When he had to be cruel. When fear had to be introduced in order to get results.

Some like to call him the Smiling Shark and you could understand why. Between the two of you fear has always been easy to come by.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No,” you tell him with a slight shake of your head, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Tarasov is smart. He knows how to hold power.”

“He’s a fool,” he cuts in, voice low. Angry, you realise, and it makes you look up at him again. “Stuck in his old ways because he thinks they will save him and his empire.”

“You don’t believe in the old ways,” you point out, half-accusation and half-observation. Santino’s mind has always worked differently. He’s never lacked vision nor the ruthlessness to carry it through, even if it means stepping on peoples’ toes. It put a large divide between him and those who still follow the old code of conduct. So while he always gets results, he doesn’t have many friends to show for it. “Tarasov does. It’s a way of life for him and many others.”

“Well I believe in taking what I want, when I want it, cara mia,” Santino says and in his eyes, you can see the ambition, the haughtiness that drives him forward because he believes that his vision of the future is right. Because he thinks that rules don’t apply to him because he disagrees with them. “Not standing around and feeling sorry about a few cracked eggs along the way. Their old ways are dead. We are the future of our world.”

You stare at each other for a charged moment and that’s the way it always is between you now. He always says things that force your hand, tear at the wall between you, and it’s up to you to always put it back up.

Footsteps fill the gallery, echoing loudly long before anyone comes into the line of sight. Pulling away from him and choosing to ignore his fervent stare, you turn in the direction of the newcomer.

It’s Ares.

You shouldn’t be surprised. Not many would have the nerve to step into a room after Santino dismissed them all for privacy.

The sharply dressed woman halts at a respectable distance, wiggling her eyebrows at you with a wink.

Good to see you, you sign.

Likewise pretty viper, she signs back as her teeth gleam.

“Is it important?” Santino demands, turning around to face her as well.

His second in command only nods, her smile fading quickly and the heavy furrow of her brows tells a troubling tale. Ares is cool under pressure. No problem is too big for her. So it must be something major if she’s this sullen.

“I should head off anyway,” you speak up before Santino can, glancing his way. “I have a few errands to run. I’m working on something new. I think you’ll like it.”

He hums, checks his gleaming Rolex, and lets his eyes snag onto yours again. “My driver will pick you up at 7pm sharp. I assume the Continental? How come you still continue to use that place even after I told you that my penthouse is open to you at any time?”

Why indeed.

“Their dry cleaning is cheap,” you deflect and rush ahead when you notice his lips part as if to argue. “And I haven’t agreed to dinner.”

His mouth stretches into a lazy grin at your words. He reaches out and the back of his index finger brushes against the surface of the delicate chain around your neck. Something flickers across his expression; a look you don’t get to see long enough to decipher before his hand drops away.

“Mhm. Would you like me to beg for the pleasure of your company, then?” he wonders slyly as he reaches to take your hand in his. His own hands are warm and it shocks you every time he touches you for some reason. Perhaps because it’s hard to grasp the idea of someone so cold-blooded being so warm. “On hands and knees, perhaps? Is that it?”

“That’ll be a day,” you state dryly, unable to hold back your own reluctant grin at his theatrics. “Fine. I’ll join you. You already know what I like.”

Santino grins like a shark he so often gets compared to, his fingers tightening around yours. “Indeed I do, cara mia. Indeed I do.”

“—so here I was six years of age, no, perhaps seven,” Santino recalls, just as engrossed in the story as you are. “Witnessing what I believed to be a miracle. I tell you, bella, my mother’s lasagna was the finest you could taste anywhere in Naples. No, in the whole of Italy. It felt like being held in her arms. On a sunny day, we would sit on the rooftop terrace overlooking the entire Gulf and marvel at the simplicity of life. The sweetness of it.”

“Yes, I can imagine little Santino with his wild curly hair running around the kitchen covered in sauce,” you tease and Santino laughs; a rich, genuine sound as he brings the wine glass to his lips. “No task too hard. Mischievous as always.”

“I would look good in an apron, no?” he poses with a teasing grin, gesturing to himself and you don’t hold back your laughter. “I would have you know that I was her favourite little helper.”

He pauses, his smile fading a little.

“Those are my fondest memories of my childhood,” he tells you quietly, his voice dropping and you almost want to take the last few moments back. If only to go back to the carefree, open expression he wore before. “Then came her death and the warm dream ended. Gianna and I grew apart. Our father began treating us not as his children but as his heirs. ‘One day you will rule an empire’, he used to tell me. Tsk, tsk. What does an empire mean to a seven-year-old boy, hm? Empty words only.”

You keep silent as you listen. What comfort could you offer him that wouldn’t feel empty? He doesn’t need you to comfort him. He needs someone to listen. So you do.

Santino stares at the empty space behind you, lost in thought, before blinking and giving you a slow smile. “My mother would have loved you though. She was a vicious woman but with people she loved…she would have done anything for them. I think she’s the only thing my father ever truly loved. They both balanced and challenged each other daily. But she did make him better.”

“So unlike your father,” you say after a moment, realising that he’s waiting for some form of response from you. “He didn’t like me very much.”

“No, perhaps not, cara mia,” he agrees but sounds thoughtful. “But you had his respect. Which is something I struggled to gain even at the very end.”

“He loved you, Santino. In his own way.”

“You always have to be strong,” he whispers, his voice pitched lower in imitation of the imposing man you’ve only met a handful of times before. “Never let them see you weak. Because the only thing others respect and follow is strength. If you let them see you as vulnerable, they will slit your throat and throw your body to the sharks. Do not bring me shame by being weak. I was eight.”

He blinks slowly as if seeing the memory right in front of him.

You run your fingers down the stem of your wine glass before lifting it in front of you. The motion catches Santino’s attention and he glances at you in confusion.

“A toast,” you state, your own voice hushed. “To parents who perhaps tried but didn’t succeed.”

He makes a small sound at the back of his throat, a smile curving his mouth although it looks strained.

“What a pair we are, eh?” he wonders idly as he taps his own glass against yours.

You lick your lips, the rich taste of red wine lingering on your tongue, and nod your head once. “We are what we are,” you tell him in Italian and watch genuine delight bloom across his features.

“Ah, bella, I do love it so when you speak my mother tongue,” he remarks and slants his head in consideration. “It suits you beautifully.”

You give him a disbelieving smile, casting your eyes over the otherwise empty restaurant pointedly.

“A bit excessive, isn’t it?” you question jokingly, deliberately changing the topic. “Buying out the entire restaurant just for dinner?”

Santino watches you through half-lidded eyes and gives you an indulging little smile—as if you’re missing something obvious. “Special occasion. I assure you, I don’t do it just for anyone.”

Before you can say anything else in return, your phone starts ringing.

Casting an apologetic look his way, you pull it out, standing to your feet. Santino nods his head with a faint smile as he salutes you with his glass.

Take your time, the gesture says.

Both of you have an old understanding. Business comes first.  

You don’t venture too far away, your table still visible from where you come to a standstill. Turning the phone in your hand, you press Answer, holding it to your ear.

It’s not a number you recognise at first glance so you begin with a flat, “Hello?”

“(Name).”

Your blood runs cold.

The car is silent.

Despite the pleasant evening, your gaze is focused solely on the outside. Santino sits opposite to you and his gaze is focused on you.

After the call ended, you forced yourself to gather whatever remained of your tattered composure. But, of course, he picked up on the fact that something has happened right away even if you refused to divulge any details.

It irritated him greatly, you could tell.

But he still offered to drop you off at the Continental.

Sometimes it still surprises you just how far you stretch his limits and how far he lets you.

Santino’s golden ring gleams in the streetlight that filters through the car window, and you shift in your spot, finally turning to face him.

He’s watching you pensively, his cheek resting against his folded fingers, elbow leaning on the door.

“If you are in some sort of trouble,” he speaks slowly, his voice dripping with that cold promise of bloodshed. “You need only to say so, cara mia.”

“No trouble. Promise.”

His eyes narrow. He doesn’t buy it and you don’t blame him. You’ve been restless ever since the phonecall, your ears still ringing, and it’s difficult to hide that sort of thing. Especially from someone who knows you well enough to pick up on the little hints.

Since Chicago, he knows the worst parts, and it still bewilders you that he of all the people doesn’t pester you for more.

“Very well,” he mutters flatly, his eyebrows heavily pinched and he finally removes his gaze from you, studying the scene outside. “If you say so.”

The flickering New York lights crawl over his figure and you debate whether you should say something after all. It would be unwise. Not to him, at least—not with the history between you all. There are no guarantees as to how he might take the news.

“I know about it, you know?” you finally speak after a stretch of uncomfortable, tense silence between you. A rarity. “Even if you never told me.”

Santino continues looking outside but you don’t miss the slight roll of his eyes. “You would have to be a bit more specific, bella. Know what, exactly?”

He’s being petulant because he doesn’t like not being in the know—not when it comes to you, at least.

“About you going to Tarasov to buy out my contract and pay off my debt to him.”

That gets his attention.

His hand drops away, his eyes snapping to you in disbelief. It lasts only a second before he composes his expression, arching one eyebrow at you with an air of cool disinterest.

“Oh?”

Normally, you might have rolled your eyes at his behaviour, at his poor attempt to deflect. But instead, you simply peer at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Santino shakes his head with a click of his tongue. “What would have been the point?” he questions you with a slight sneer. “The deal failed. I do not particularly enjoy discussing failures, cara mia, you know this.”

“The point,” you tell him, your voice soft. “Is that you could have told me anyway. To manipulate me. To use the fact that you tried to help me as a means to make me feel as if I owed you. There’s a thousand and two things you could have done but you didn’t say a thing. For years. Why?”

“Who called you?”

His voice is clipped and you know it’s because he’s unused to being forced in a corner verbally. It’s not a comfortable position for a man of his status to be in. The car slows in the traffic and the silence between you is more prominently felt then. Tension is not a foreign thing between you, but it is rarely of this nature.

After a few minutes, the car begins moving again, crawling along the streets and you sigh, deciding to let the conversation drop. Another stalemate.

“Do you trust me so little, hm? Is that it?”

Inhaling sharply, you focus back on him and find that a frown has transformed his features into a foreign expression.

“It’s not about trust,” you argue, your voice weak and ignore the mocking scoff he releases. “It isn’t. Can you—just let me handle this on my own.”

Santino looks like he’s about to say something else but the car halts, and the familiar dreary walls of the Continental are clearly visible through the window.

You reach for the handle without hesitation, not waiting for anyone to open the door for you as you step out. It’s better to leave the suffocating tension between you back in the car than to deal with it now when you’re unsure if you can keep yourself together.

The air is still warm but the evening chill has set in, and you wrap your arms around yourself, pulling your long coat tighter around your shoulders.

A hand halts your journey before you can take a step further, and you turn to find Santino’s fingers lightly wrapped around your elbow. His expression is conflicted, unhappy.

“I do not wish for us to fight,” he says seriously, and his words lack their previous sharpness.

“Neither do I,” you whisper back because it’s true. You reach forward and place your hand on top of his. “Please trust me.”

His mouth curves into that devilish, wicked thing you know has charmed plenty of men and women alike. “Oh, that is a dangerous thing to ask of me, amore,” he notes mildly, his gaze heated. His eyes drop to your mouth and you feel a shiver crawl up your spine that has nothing to do with the cold. “A dangerous thing indeed. But perhaps I can…”

He leans closer, his warm breath brushing against your parted lips but you turn your head to the side at the last moment, his mouth ghosting over your cheek instead. Your eyes squeeze shut and your expression crumbles. He lingers for a moment, inhaling, before chuckling faintly against your ear. The sound lacks warmth.

“Five years,” he notes quietly; a soft, bitter undertone running through his words. “Five years, and he still stands between us.”

“Santino, please,” you breathe against his ear, pained, but he only presses another light peck to your cheek before pulling back.

Your faces are still only centimetres apart and he smiles, his eyes roving over your features with an expression you have only caught glimpses of in the past. It’s still impossible to miss the virulent disappointment lining his face though.

“The woman with blood on her hands,” he murmurs gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he chuckles under his breath. Teeth gleaming and his dimples visible. “Like the sea on a stormy night, unyielding and unafraid. I am a patient man. I can wait.”

You wish it were that simple. You wish you could see yourself the way he does. He sees something special, but you only see an off tilter person who is haunted by everything she has lost. How could he even say that you’re unafraid when he knows how you hardly get more than a few hours of sleep every night? How you wake up with a scream tearing out of your throat because you’re back in that underground facility, back with Kishi and his unwelcome touch, back with the torture he put you through? When he knows exactly how badly it still haunts you?

How can he even care when the last five years have been nothing but an attempt to forget, to bury, everything that you’ve ever felt for John? Like your every step hasn’t been haunted by the shadow, the memory of him, wherever you go.

Back then everyone knew you only as John’s associate.

You’ve been forced to hear his name on an almost daily basis for years. And you’ve grown to resent the comparisons, the never-ending questions, the danger he put you in by simply leaving with every passing day.

And now…now he’s back in your life, you don’t know what to do. Don’t know if you should do anything at all—not after the hell his departure put you through.

It’s not something Santino could ever understand.

“After everything we’ve been through,” you utter, at last, exhaling softly. “It’s not a ‘no’.”

He hums, one side of his mouth curved upwards but it lacks the usual bite you’re used to seeing. “Ah, but it is hardly a ‘yes’ either, is it?”

He lifts your hand to his mouth, but his eyes snag onto something behind you, in the direction of the staircase leading up to the Continental. It’s like a switch being flipped. His faint smile fades; a cool, haughty indifference smoothing his features out in its place.

Your head turns slightly and you spot Charon on top of the stairs, watching your exchange with a blank expression. He nods his head in a polite greeting when your eyes meet but he doesn’t acknowledge either of you otherwise.

“I am a call away, bella,” Santino reminds you in smooth, clipped Italian and you know the switch is purposeful as your attention returns to him. “Do keep that in mind.”

He cradles your hand in both of his and you shift in surprise. His lips press against your knuckles and he winks before pulling away, shooting a pointed—almost sarcastic—look behind you as his tailored suit ripples with his movements. He fixes the invisible creases absentmindedly and you suppress a snarky comment.  

One of his burly guards opens the car door for him, but he pauses just before getting inside. His bright green eyes lift to you and he regards you for a silent moment. “Sleep well, carissima.”

The door shuts and the entourage of three cars disappears down the street.

Charon waits till you climb the stairs before speaking. “Nice weather we’re having this evening, Miss Vipress.”

“I’m sure Winston will be thrilled to know that,” you shoot back pointedly, giving him a sideways look. “Speaking of the old man. Lounge?”

Charon inclines his head in confirmation, not commenting on your previous loaded statement.

You pull the door open, stepping inside without waiting for the man to follow you.

Santino’s quiet words plague you as you walk, echoing through your mind like a bell, and you grit your teeth.

I am a patient man. I can wait.

When he said that you never did point out the simple truth you both know.

Santino is not a patient man. Has never been one.

Yet he still continues to wait for something you’re not sure you can give him. 

“Bastard.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Twelve across,” you mumble, pointing at the paper before collapsing heavily onto the expensive leather chair with a groan.

“Oh! Much obliged,” Winston responds with a nod of his head, looking down to fill in the blank line of his crossword puzzle. “You look positively miserable. I presume there’s a reason for that?”

The older man peers up at you from above his glasses, tapping his pen against the paper as he waits for you to speak.

You fold your arms over your chest and exhale, eyes sweeping around to see if anyone is taking a special interest in your conversation. Seeing you with Winston is hardly a new or exciting thing but you’re both high profile enough for people to try their luck. You hesitate for another moment before turning your weary gaze his way.

“An old associate of ours called me.”

For a moment he only peers at you in hushed silence. There’s no doubt in your mind that he knows exactly to whom you are referring to.

“Retirement is not stimulating enough, I see,” he comments lightly, and his eyes flicker around too, assessing. No doubt measuring how safe it still is to be having this conversation out in the open. “Did this associate give you a reason for their call?”

You swallow, and your lips tremble.

For a moment, Winston looks genuinely concerned though he masks it quickly with that professional, cool detachment.

“His wife died, Winston,” you whisper, and your voice catches. “Terminal illness. He asked me to attend the funeral.”  

His reaction mirrors your own earlier one to hearing John relay that same information to you. A slackening of his expression, a slight widening of the eyes before the information is processed in the brain, and a response to such tragedy is offered.

“Heavens.”

He shakes his head slowly, and his disbelief is genuine, you can tell. Disgruntled sort of sadness washes over his face before it’s wiped clean, and the manager sighs; a worn, weary breath.

“A terrible price to pay for freedom,” he notes, and lifts his glass of brandy, taking a large sip. “Did he say anything else?”

“He wasn’t exactly in a mood for a chat,” you bite back, your nerves frayed and he shoots you a dull look.

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, dear.”

Exhaling, you close your eyes, rubbing your forehead where a tedious twinge now throbs. “What the hell should I do?”

Winston leans back, lowering his glass onto the crisp white tablecloth, and stares at you for a beat. “The real question is what do you want to do?”

Your arms lower. “He asked me to come to the funeral. He—he didn’t sound like himself.”

“His wife has just died, I would assume not,” he states, his voice monotonous, and it’s your turn to shoot a look his way. But he only spreads his arms out with a shrug. “Honestly, what is that you expect me to say (Name)? Do you want me to tell you what to do? Discourage you? Or pat you on the head and send you on your merry way? These are choices, and they are yours alone to make. You know the risks.”

“Things—” you voice cracks, and your fingers tighten painfully. In this light, the faint scars around your wrists peak from beneath your jacket sleeves and you stare at them. Even after all these years, the reminders of your time in Tokyo are still visible. When you needed him most, John was there for you. But is this really the same? “It’s been five years, Winston. It’s not that simple anymore. Things are very different from what they once were.”

“Indeed they are,” he agrees easily, and leans closer suddenly, a glimmer of a cool smile lingering on his face. “You weathered the storm his departure caused. You’ve grown fangs. The world has moved on, as have you. He is no longer one of us. Once upon a time, you might have owed him a great debt but that has long since been repaid. Whatever you do now depends solely on what you want to do, and not on what is expected of you. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t owe anyone a damn thing.”

His words wash over you and you allow the exhaustion, the sadness, to show. “If it were you…what would you do in my place?”

The older man leans back at that, and you hold his gaze, unblinking. Winston presses his lips together and seems to consider your words for what they are; a call for guidance.

“Regardless of everything that has come to pass,” he begins, and exhales as if considering if he should continue. “You were friends once. The type of friendship I have never seen in our world during the long years I’ve been a part of it. Nor have I witnessed anything like it since. So, from the sound of it, your friend rang you because he needs you. Because he is alone and hurting. Johnathan would have known the risks. But he still took that chance because he trusts you.”

It’s a miserable, wet day.

Befitting for a funeral, you suppose. Despite how cliched it is.

The heavy rainfall beats harshly against your black umbrella and you watch the small, solemn ceremony from some distance. The mood is vastly different from the last time you saw John. There was happiness and joy thick in the air back then. Now, grief hangs like a suffocating blanket around everyone present.

You’ve considered approaching John before the burial began. You could just make out the outline of him from where you stand, but something has been keeping you back.

A part of you still doesn’t want to see him. A part of you doesn’t know how, exactly, you will react when you do.

Four years.

Four years since you’ve walked away from him and his blushing wife, choosing to close that chapter of your life.

You’re a different person now—no longer caught in the chokehold of your love for him. In hindsight, this should be easy. Despite everything that has transpired between you, you did part on semi-good terms. Even if those first two years have been near unbearable to live through, you still managed.

I’m still here.

Lingering bitterness still haunts you though, and you think that perhaps it’s only human of you. Some things cannot be so easily forgotten. John is simply one of them. And with how much you loved him, is it really any surprise? Some betrayals hurt more than others.

“Look who the cat dragged in,” a familiar voice speaks from behind you, steps drawing closer till he comes to a stop beside you, his umbrella bumping against yours. “How’s your spoiled Italian princeling doing?”

“Marcus,” is your aloof greeting, and you don’t bother looking at him. “Always a pleasure.”

“Oh my, did I offend?” he wonders frankly, his voice dripping with sarcasm and your lips press together. “Why are you here?”

“I could ask you the exact same thing,” you tell him, lifting your umbrella till you can see his face. “But I’m not nearly as nosy as you are.”

Marcus raises an eyebrow, his expression suspicious. “John happens to be one of my oldest friends. And you just so happen to show up on the day of his late wife’s funeral.”

Your grip the umbrella in your hand so tightly the plastic handle creaks.

“I have always respected you, Marcus,” you whisper, your voice frigid. “But if you ever try to imply what I think you just tried to imply again, I will slit your throat and watch you choke on your own blood.”

Your head turns in his direction—a show of just how seriously you mean those words—but Marcus is smiling faintly, amused.

“And here I thought you only liked to watch your targets convulsing in agony from a safe distance,” he muses, his tone humorous. “Word on the street is that you don’t like getting blood on your hands anymore. I suppose that makes me special then, doesn’t it?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Marcus’s smile widens but it’s more biting than friendly though you doubt your own expression is any better. While you have never been the best of friends, you have always liked each other just enough to care about one another. Even if only a little; even if only because you shared a person in common who you both cared about once.

After John left things between you changed.

Marcus never had the power to help you in any substantial way to deal with the aftermath of John’s departure.

Santino did.

A choice Marcus has never quite let go of. To him, your decision has seemed like a betrayal.

He’s never said it to your face, but you know that he holds it over you to this day.

This, here, is your first time seeing him in almost a year.  

A part of you wishes it wasn’t under such unpleasant circumstances. But a part of you also wishes that he didn’t hold your survival over your head either. You’ve learned much from him in the past, and you long for your relationship to go back to what it once was. Sometimes you still catch yourself hoping that there’s some way for you to mend the cracks John’s retirement has created between you.

“He called me.”

Marcus digests your words, not rushing ahead as most would. Always the methodical bastard. “He called you,” he repeats slowly, the sharp disbelief clear in his voice but you don’t see the need to explain yourself further.

The funeral party starts dispersing, the service over, and you see few people pat John’s shoulder in a shallow display of compassion. John hardly responds though, standing stiff and silent at the front. As if something like that could ever console him. It makes you wonder if these people know him at all, despite how convincingly he must have played his part in the last five years.

He stands alone for a moment, gazing at the now empty space where the casket previously stood, and you find yourself swallowing thickly.

He turns reluctantly and begins walking back towards the cars without a backwards glance, and you absently wonder if he’s feeling similar pain to what you did. On his wedding night four years ago, you walked away with the full intention of burying John Wick in your mind.

For the last four years, he’s been as good as dead to you. Only his ghost lingering near.

Marcus clears his throat. “Shall we, or do you prefer standing in the rain all day?”

Ignoring his tone, you cut across the graveyard, the older man right behind you. You sincerely doubt that John is, in any way, unaware of your presence. You can domesticate any animal you want but their hunter instincts are still there, just buried deep.

You’re nervous, you realise, the closer you find yourself to him.

And then, there you are, face-to-face and everything and anything you want or could to say flees from your mind.

John is different yet exactly the same.

His hair is longer, is your first, bemused observation. Few new lines are marking his face as well; an indication, more than anything, that he is indeed just a man. Not some monster others like whispering about even to this day. As if they know him, as if anyone does.

His dark eyes find yours for a second, and it genuinely shocks you what you see reflected back at you.

Grief and pain.

So blatantly displayed that it unnerves you. John you know—knew—rarely allowed so much as a millimetre of weakness to show through. He always found a way to remain untouchable, removed from the fabric of the world others clung to.

John has always been the man who made the impossible possible.

Except now.

Except now that he’s a grieving husband staring back at you with those still too familiar dark eyes.

He looks empty.

“Hello, John.”

It’s a slow reaction that earns you a small scoff from Marcus but you can’t bring yourself to care. Maybe he understands, or maybe he doesn’t at all. Still, you’re grateful for his presence here because he takes the lead, exchanging a few quick sentences with his old friend. John, much to your surprise, looks wary to see him and their interaction lacks warmth—not that you expect John to be very emotional given the type of man he is.

A thousand different things come to mind as you stare up at him, but they all tangle together as you find yourself unable to speak at all. There’s a sudden stab of irritation at yourself for even bothering to come—for being foolish enough to even attempt to see him again. The truth is, now that John is here—right in front of you—you don’t know how you feel. You keep waiting for something: anger, happiness, annoyance, anything. But it’s a tangled ball that only tangles further when you try to unravel it.

You think about the last five years. Think about all the blood you had to shed because of him, and find yourself frowning.

Marcus shakes hands with John, and you try to recall a single word of their conversation only to come up blank.

Marcus has clearly picked up on the fact that John is not feeling too comfortable with his presence here, and turns to go.

You linger behind. John has invited you for more than a brief encounter, it’s clear on his face as his silent stare fixes on you.

Marcus, having noticed your absence, stops and you hear him turn to look at you over his shoulder. He waits for a beat, but when you don’t move, he only makes a sound at the back of his throat; something that sounds vaguely displeased.

“Don’t forget the consequences.”

The disapproval in his voice is clear but much to your surprise he still walks away, giving you two privacy.

Except, deep down, you’re no longer sure if you have anything left to say to the man before you.

Not anymore. 

“You look well.”

You keep your gaze focused on the outside.

There’s only the two of you left inside his beautiful home, and it makes you feel trapped. There has never been a version of events inside your mind where you would get to see John again. So it unsettles you to be with him, here, inside his home. All while he stands there in his dark suit that marks the depth of his grieving. If you close your eyes, you can almost pretend the last five years haven’t happened at all.

Except, they have, and it feels disrespectful to even be here.

Every corner of this house is a shrine to Helen.

To John’s life with her; to his endless joy and peace with her.

Wherever you looked during the reception, trying to mingle with the guests to draw less attention, your eyes always snagged on the dozens of pictures scattered around.

This house feels more like a graveyard than a home now. It’s clear that the absence of Helen is felt in every corner of this once loved space, and by none more so than John himself.

He stood apart from the guests the entire evening—a short, few hour affair that felt more like a necessity everyone wanted to hurry along for John’s sake—and it’s impossible to miss the weight of pain on his shoulders now that everyone is gone.

“You sound surprised,” you respond neutrally, feeling increasingly awkward. “It’s been years, John.”

You hear him step closer behind you.

Your shoulder blades tense on instinct—they always do now. You don’t like having people behind you anymore, not where you can’t see what they’re doing. Santino, surprisingly, is the only one you can tolerate to have behind you without instinctively wanting to aim a weapon at him. And even that took years of trial and error.

“No, not surprised,” he tells you quietly. “I always knew you’d be fine.”

Then, mercifully, a spark of anger ignites in your chest. “Is that so?” you question tightly, and you know you sound cold. “If only you knew. People were eager to line up and try their hand at getting rid of me,” you mutter and turn to face him with a vitriolic smile. “Didn’t work out too well for them though.”

“I didn’t know about that,” he remarks, confusion clouding his features. “The last time—”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you cut him off because the last thing he needs right now is more guilt or worry. “Why did you call me, John?”

He stares at you for a long minute, silent. Once it would have been a normal exchange between you but now—

Now, it’s clear that neither of you knows how to talk to each other anymore. How to ignore—or not ignore—the giant elephant in the room. It’s becoming painfully obvious with every second here that there’s a wall between you, and you have no idea how to tear it down—or if you even want to.

“I don’t know,” he admits, his words soft and low, though it’s hardly what you want to hear. “I guess I had no one else I could call.”

You were friends once.

Swallowing, you turn around and walk deeper into the room, creating some distance between you. Regardless of everything, something about John still calls to you. And isn’t that just disgusting?

“I’m really sorry about your loss,” you inform him, meaning every word but still refuse to look his way. “But it was a mistake to call me. I came only out of respect for our old friendship. We both know what would happen if anyone in my world found out about me being here. You get out, and it’s forever. That’s what you wanted.”

“I just thought—”

“Thought what?” you interrupt, your voice jumping in volume before you force yourself to breathe. “That Tarasov is going to let me come down for afternoon tea?”

John’s expression falls, his lips slightly parted, and now he looks sad on your behalf and it makes you angry just to see it. “Tarasov…so you still…”

You hum loudly, mocking, as you nod your head with an icy smile. “Yes, still. But don’t worry. I’m getting very close. And once I’m there, well.”

His gaze sharpens at that, and in it, you see a glimpse of old John back. “You plan to go after him.”

Not a question.

You don’t respond either because you both already know the answer to that.

“He’s one of the big ones now,” you tell him, and wonder why your words sound like an accusation. “You did your job rather well. Well done.”

John takes your anger calmly. Something tells you it has less to do with his stoic nature and more to do with the fact that…

That perhaps he feels like he deserves it.

“We should talk,” he speaks, at last, his tone cautious. “I know you have questions about why I did what I did.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished. “No John. That’s not what I’m here for. I can’t keep doing this anymore. We existed in the past, and that’s exactly where I would like us to stay. I stopped wondering or caring about your motives a long time ago. Like I said earlier, it’s been years. Things are different now. I’m different.”

“People don’t change,” John argues evenly, though it sounds more like a statement. “Only times do.”

There isn’t much you can say to that. Because, for once, you want to return his old kindness. Telling him everything that has happened since his Impossible Task would only devastate him more. He doesn’t deserve that. Not after what he just lost.

However, it still doesn’t stop the silent resentment bubbling inside your gut. Hurting him now would be easy and a part of you wants to.  

You were right though; it’s been a mistake coming here today and seeing him. The uncomfortable roll of your stomach only confirms it.

“I should get going,” you say, though your words lack emotion, lack anything that once rang through your voice whenever you talked with him. “I have a job coming up.”

It’s a lie. He knows it too.

“You could stay for a bit,” he murmurs, unsure. “I have some—”

“I should go,” you cut him off, firmer this time. “Remember what I said last time we saw each other.”

You certainly do. You let him go. Allowed him to have his new life, and now it’s his turn to allow you to do the same.

John nods, looking down and a tiny, insignificant part of you longs to stay.

He never did though.

Your heart hardens with that thought.

“Let me walk you to the door, at least,” he suggest instead, and you follow him silently, your fingers tightly clenching onto your jacket. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t have to.”

You halt by the door, and glance up at him, hesitating. “No, I didn’t,” you agree softly, meeting his dark stare. “But I’m glad that I did.”

Your words fade away awkwardly, and you swallow again.

A million unsaid things pass between you and you give him a slight smile.

“Take care of yourself, John.”

His lips part like he’s about to say something, but a shadow falls over the door, ringing the doorbell.

You break the eye contact between you, and he reaches for the door where a delivery woman stands on the other side, staring at you both expectantly.

Smiling, you nod your head at him and brush past the woman without another word.

For the second time in your life, you walk away from John Wick.

This time, there’s no pain.

There’s just a faint longing for something you thought died a long time ago.

. . .

an: *new player has entered the chat* ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

We are just getting started, heh~~

As always thank you so much for your support. I see your names pop up in my notifications and it warms my heart dfkjhgfdjkg YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!!! Loved it? Hated it? Let me know!!

[myveryownfanfiction]

Requested by @theeblueehazee

AN:Thanks for this request! I love David in “Lost Boys” and I love Kiefer Sutherland so to do this was awesome! And thank you for letting me run with it! 

AN: I’m sick and this probably isn’t going to be the best work that I’ve done but I somehow found the energy to do it so I’m getting it done. 

The Santa Carla Boardwalk. Territory of the Lost Boys. Offspring of Max. Of course the territory wasn’t off limits. Everyone was just kind of warned not to go there. Especially since Star had some beef with the boys. The way she told the story, she got out fighting and biting. The way Max told it, she was given a choice, leave or die. Either way Star had left Santa Carla and started her own clan. They hadn’t been going as long as the boys but they certainly had more members. And they certainly were more than capable of holding their own. Something Hazely made sure Star remembered. While David has his small band, Hazely had her’s. And as much as David and the boys disliked Max, Hazely and the girls disliked Star. 

“Hazely! I told you not to go near Santa Carla!” Star yelled. The sound echoed around the cavern as Hazely slowly stalked towards the center. She tilted her head and gave Star her signature smirk. 

“Had you?” She cocked her head. “I don’t quite remember ever hearing that.” Star snarled and launched herself towards Hazely. “Ah ah ah.” Star stopped inches from her. 

“Go near the boardwalk again and I won’t hesitate.” Star warned. Her fangs and yellow eyes became prominent as she grabbed Hazely’s chin. “You know better girl. I won’t take anything less.” 

“Of course you won’t.” Hazely said as she jerked her head out of Star’s grasp. There was a short staring contest before Star turned and made to leave the cavern. “Because you don’t want us to be like you.” The echo sounded dead as it bounced to Star. Without even looking over her shoulder, Star continued to walk out. 

“No I don’t.” She muttered before taking a worried look behind her. She knew, deep down she knew, that if Hazely went to Santa Carla she would run into Max. And she would run into David. She just didn’t know who would be more dangerous. The Lost Boys or Hazely. 

Hazely waited until she was sure Star had left the cavern before turning and putting her fist through a rock. “Girls!” She yelled out, pulling on her gloves to hide the scrapes that now littered her hand. “We’re going for a ride!” Five girls made their way into the main area of the cavern and gathered around Hazely. 

“Where we going?” one of the girls asked. Hazely zipped up her jacket and smirked as she looked at the girls that had gathered around her. 

“Santa Carla boardwalk.” She said as she made her way out to the motorcycles that were waiting for them outside. They all got on the bikes and took off into the night. It was a two hour ride to Santa Carla but the time flew by just as the girls did. It was late when the girls finally arrived on the boardwalk. There weren’t too many people out but Hazely could see the bonfire smoking away further down the beach. “How hungry are you girls?” She could feel her fangs descend at the thought of finally having a good feeding. 

“Surf-nazis?” One of the girls asked. Hazely nodded as she started to lead the way to the bonfire. She made sure to keep her transformation almost non-existent as they walked down the beach. The music got louder and the smoke got heavier the closer they got. Keeping to the edge of the party, Hazely led the girls to a hill in order to watch the small group of surf-nazis. She made a motion for the girls to stay where they were while she scoped out a place to attack. 

Laying low and edging along the outskirts of the party, Hazely kept her eyes on the group. She watched their patterns as they drunkenly danced around the fire. She didn’t pay attention to the sound of boots crunching leaves coming up behind her nor did she acknowledge the brush of wind that followed the person’s coat. 

“Anything I can do to help you?” Hazely jumped and bared her fangs at the newcomer, who bared their fangs to her.  She stumbled back before finding her footing and making to attack this new person. He took up a stance similar to her’s. Then he took a look at her. “Wait.” His stance dropped while her’s got more defensive. “Why do you look familiar?” Hazely’s eyebrows knit together as she cocked her head at this boy.

“What do you mean?” She asked. “Familiar? I ain’t never seen you before in my life.” The boy took a step closer to her with his hands up in defense. His yellow eyes slowly changed to blue and his fangs disappeared. Hazely kept her fangs out as she watched the boy circle around her. 

“Like I’ve seen you before.” He appraised her as he turned to face her again. His eyes went slightly wide before he smiled at her. “Hazely. Missing from the Santa Carla boardwalk. 1987. Been gone for two years.” Hazely’s eyes widened and she took off running at him. He turned at the last minute, causing her to fall to the ground. Just as she rolled on her back to get back up, the boy offered his hand to her. “I’m not going to hurt you Hazely.” His voice was soft and even though every nerve in her body told her to trust the boy, she waited to think this through. If he knew who she was and what she was, who knew what else he knew. “I’m David.” Her eyes went wider than they already were. This was THE David. The David that Star had warned her about. Hazely didn’t know what to do. If she took his hand, Star would go off on her. If she didn’t, he might go after her and Star would be there to finish the job. So she did what she thought was right. She took his hand. 

“What do you want with me?” She asked as he pulled her up. They stood facing each other. “You clearly know who I am and what I am so why don’t you just spill.” David smirked as he motioned towards the party. 

“Why don’t we eat first?” Hazely turned to call over her girls. “Then we can all sit down and talk.” David turned to call over the boys. The group said nothing to each other, following the orders of their leaders. Together David and Hazely led the group down onto the beach. Sharing a look, they each raised a hand before giving the order to eat. What came next was a mess of blood, screams, and chaos. Before long, David and Hazely started the assent back onto the hill. The girls circled around Hazely and the boys circled around David. 

“Those are the Lost Boys?” The general chorus of the girls snapped Hazely out of her thoughts about David. She nodded before gently pulling off her gloves. “Which one is David? Do you remember the stories Star used to tell us? What are they doing so far away from the boardwalk? Which one is Max?” A flurry of questions ambushed Hazely. She held her hand up, stopping any further questions. 

“No more questions.” She looked over her shoulder to see David looking at her. They nodded at each other before turning back to their groups. “Mingle with the boys. Ask them anything you want. I don’t care.” She turned to walk over to meet David. “Just don’t run off.” Hazely shot over her shoulder. The girls watched her as she finally met up with David before becoming distracted by the boys. 

“They seem to be getting along nicely.” David chuckled as he looked at the chaos that was two clans meeting for the first time. Hazely nodded. 

“They’ve heard stories their entire life.” Hazely said without taking her eyes off of David. His eyes met hers and she shrugged. “Star.” David’s expression hardened and he nodded coldly. 

“That’s where she ran off to.” He growled. “Did she take Michael with her?” Hazely laughed. 

“As if!” David’s head snapped in her direction at her raised tone. “He took off the second she told him she wanted a clan of her own! He wouldn’t do what you had done in a million years!” Hazely leaned up against a tree and crossed her arms. “Never had the guts. We could never figure out why you changed him.” David slowly moved in front of her. 

“Because Max thought we needed his mother.” David hissed. Hazely nodded. “She wouldn’t do it without her sons and Max was right about that. But we didn’t need her. Just like we don’t need Star.” Hazely nodded again before feeling a strange pull towards David. He must have felt it too because he started to lean in towards her. “And we don’t need her clan.” His breath fanned her lips and she looked up at him, just as defiant.

“We don’t need your clan either.” Hazely hissed back, trying to ignore everything in her telling her to grab his jacket and pull him towards her. “There was a reason Star left. What was it?” Her hands slid up to his collar, gripping it hard. “Tell me.” David stared her down as she pulled on him.

“I don’t know.” David whispered. His expression softened. He realized why she had been coming to the boardwalk. She was trying to find out what had caused the split. Why there were Lost Boys. And Lost Girls. And what that feeling was in the pit of her stomach that told her there didn’t need to be two clans. It was the same feeling that he felt in his stomach when he watched her explore the boardwalk every week for the last few months. “I don’t know.” He shook his head and tried to break her grip but it was strong. He needed to get out of there before he did something he regretted. Even though he was questioning just how much he would regret it. 

“You know something David.” She whispered. “Now tell me.” She pulled him closer and David put his hands on her waist to stop him from falling on top of her. “TELL ME!” Her voice barely raised above a whisper but he heard her yelling. His mind raced as he knew what that meant. 

“Not here.” He shook his head. Looking over his shoulder he realized they must have driven here somehow. “You got bikes?” Hazely nodded at him confused. “Follow us then.” He spun away from her and made his way back to the group. “We’re headed back boys.” The boys turned and followed him without question. 

“We’re following them.” Hazely ordered the girls. They all made their way back towards their bikes. “Where are we going?” She asked David when she fell into step with him. 

“You know that old resort that took a header into the fault back in 1906?” David asked. Hazely nodded. She remembered the stories Star used to tell her about it. The other girls wouldn’t remember the stories since Star never mentioned it much to them but she did. “Being the first turned has some perks.” David didn’t speak but Hazely heard him clear as day. He smirked at her when he realized that she had heard him. 

“We’ll follow you.” Hazely and the girls got on their bikes and followed David and the boys to where they had parked their bikes. Hazely pulled up next to David’s bike and looked it over. 

“You just need to keep up.” He smirked as he started his bike and took off. It was a short ride from the boardwalk to the resort. David and Hazely dismounted and waited for the rest of their clans to catch up before heading into the resort. The boys enjoyed showing the girls around while David motioned for Hazely to follow him. “This way they can’t hear us.” David led her further back into the resort before stopping by what looked like the pool. “Has Star ever mentioned anything about vampires having mates?” David looked at the pool, not quite avoiding Hazely but choosing to pretend that he had the upper hand in the situation. When in reality, he had the upper hand just as much as she did. 

“No.” She inched closer to David before falling into place next to him. “Is it important?” David sighed as he turned to face Hazely. He didn’t want to have to explain this to HIS mate. He had hoped that it was going to be an easy ‘this is what it feels like and hey by the way we’re mates’ but apparently it wasn’t going to be like that. 

“It’s when two vampires are meant to be together.” Hazely looked at him carefully. “There’s a pull. It’s unexplainable. It’s just there. Like a feeling in the pit of your stomach.” He carefully got closer to Hazely and reached down to take her hand. “Like you are going somewhere but you don’t know why.” David was holding both of her hands now and staring down at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. “Looking for answers to a question you don’t quite know how to word yet.” They were chest to chest now. “That’s what it feels like when two vampires find out that they are mates.” David moved one of his hands to cup Hazely’s cheek. Her hand had moved back to his collar. “That’s what we’re feeling....” David’s head tilted as he started to close the gap that separated him from Hazely. “Right now…” She stood a little taller so it was easier to reach him. “Because we’re….” His mouth hovered above hers. She could feel his breath mixing with hers and if she had a heart she knew it would be pounding out of her chest. 

“Mates.” She whispered before their lips finally connected. The whole world around them seemed to freeze. The two clans didn’t matter anymore. Max didn’t matter. Star didn’t matter. It was just David and Hazely. That was until Hazely was ripped away from David. 

“HAZELY!” He screamed as he shifted and his fangs came out. His yellow eyes snapped open and focused on his mate standing at the other end of the room from him with a stake at her throat. 

“Stay away from her David.” Star’s voice rang in his ears as his mate struggled against her hold. His eyes stayed on the stake at Hazely’s throat. 

“Don’t do this Star.” His voice dropped an octave and came out as a growl. “Don’t you dare.” David slowly stalked towards her. Star pulled Hazely with her as she moved, trying to keep distance between the two of them and David. “Just because you’re mate ran off doesn’t mean you can fuck with mine!” Star hadn’t even heard David’s voice that loud or that concerned. 

“Who said I was?” Star teased before gently pressing the stake into Hazely’s neck. “Stay away from her. And nothing will happen.” In the blink of an eye, Star and Hazely were gone. David raced back to the common area, barely acknowledging that the other girls were gone too and the boys were watching him with what could be construed as fear on their faces. He reached the entrance to the resort and stopped before stepping out into the growing sunlight. He growled as he clenched his fists. He would get her back. Of that he was sure. And Star would pay for it. 

[singeramg]

Midnight: Chapter 8

A/n: I am really kicking these out aren’t I? LOL Hope you enjoy reading

Pairing: Clark Kent/ Metahuman! Black! OFC

Rating: M

Warnings for chapter: ANGST, maybe even some tears idk? 

Catch Up Here!

Midnight: Chapter 8

In the walk to the ship I had fallen asleep fairly quickly, as I was exhausted and against his chest I felt safe, but when I woke up in a bed. I was totally confused as to where I was. Had those men succeeded in getting me back?Had the team, Clark included all been a dream.  I did my best to let energy build on my hands, preparing for a fight. 

     “Whoa there cowgirl. You are safe here.”

I heard Arthur say as I realized I was not alone in the room. I sat up ignoring the pain in my lower abdomen as the recent events came rushing back. I groaned and looked at Arthur and Diana who were in the room with me.

    “Where are we? Where is Kalen? Is he safe?”

    “You are in Bruce’s mansion. You are safe Kalen is safe. Bruce thought it might be better if he and his caretaker were not here.” Diana tells me with a look of concern on her face. 

I looked confused and my senses told me Clark was no longer in my immediate vicinity. 

   “ Wait where did he take my son?”

    “He just had Alfred take them to another part of the property. Gia does he know?”

Diana asks softly, I pretend not to know what she was asking me.

   “Does who know what?”

Diana sits on the edge of my bed as Arthur leans on the wall with his arms crossed against his chest. The frustration is back but it is intertwined with concern and the compassion the rumors said he lacked. 

   “So you are going to sit there and act like you don’t know what we are talking about?” Arthur says.

I huffed in frustration. Ignoring the burning feeling of the raw skin where Clark had used his heat vision on me. I realized I had on some flimsy hospital gown. If I had enough energy I would shift into proper clothes, but I didn’t. 

  “I need some clothes.”

  “I think you are going to have much bigger problems than clothes if you don’t figure out how to tell Supes.” Says Arthur 

   “I’ll send him a thank you card.” The answer was flippant I knew. 

  “Gia!”

Arthur says angrily and I had the forethought not to jump at his voice, but I knew nervousness showed in my face. I lashed back out at him. It was a defense mechanism I was unfortunately good at.

  “Arthur! Now that we are done yelling each other’s names, can someone go get Ms. A and My son.”

 “You think whoever tried to basically kidnap you will stop?”

  “If we get away...”

  “They shot you. Almost killed you. If I hadn’t shown up when I did you would be dead.”

I looked at my hands, unwilling to make eye contact.

  “And I thank you but I can’t stay and put my son at risk.”

  “He will never be more safe than he is right now. Arthur can you please retrieve her son?”

He grunts in confirmation and leaves me alone with Diana. She turns to me with a sincere look on her face.  I took note of her hair pulled back into a bun and she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a yellow top. I was jealous. I wanted clothes really badly. Being this naked left me feeling vulnerable.

    “Gia, I know this must be hard for you. I can hear how your heart is racing. I know we do not know each other well and maybe I am the last person you want to tell your secrets to, but I like you Gia. I want to help you. We all do, we cannot help you if you won’t admit the truth.”

 “Diana I appreciate your offer but I can’t stay here. Everyone has their life and we have ours. I cannot let my past catch up with us.”

  “You know as well as I do that Clark will not let anyone hurt you. Neither will we, you are on the team now. Now I’m going to ask you a very direct question, and while the answer is obvious I need a yes or no.”

I shook my head to let her know I understood the instructions.

 “Is Kalen, Kal- El’s son?”

Before I knew it I was crying again and I hated that I looked and felt so weak. 

  “Diana, he can’t know. He was happy with Lois. He will think I can’t protect him. He is going to take him away. I...I just...”

I broke down sobbing into My hands, Diana moved closer, pulling me into her arms. 

  “I promise you that I won’t let that happen. You protected your son to almost your dying breath. Everyone including Kal saw that, I think you will be able to come to a solution about this. No matter what happens everything will be okay. I know there may be some shame in being with Clark while he was in a relationship, and while it is something I didn’t think he would do, that’s okay too. The past...”

    “Wait stop Diana. Clark is still the same guy you thought of him. He and Lois were not together at the time, I am many things. A home wrecker is not one of them, furthermore the  reason why we need to leave. I can’t impress a child on their relationship. At some point in my life, I considered Lois a friend, I can’t come in and ask her to play Step-mother. This is why I need to go...”

    “I apologize for my assumption.” She says and means it.

   “It’s okay it was a logical assumption but please help me get out of here.”

   “Kal-El will only look for you if you go. He will be back soon I imagine. He and Bruce went to figure out who sent those men to attack you. He was not very happy when he left. He made sure you were safe on the plane and he went home to change. I however will bring you some clothes. Gia he deserves to know.”

She quickly goes out of the room, the clothing must not have been far because she came in with some jeans and a deep purple cap sleeved shirt. I knew my hair had to be a mess of dark curls. The elastic holder had long since disappeared. A quick and hot second shower freed me of any lingering debris and dirt and I dressed in the clothes that Diana provided me. 

I was rubbing a towel on my hair that I was forced to wash when my door opened and a ball of energy came flying into my legs. Followed by Ms. Alphonse. Tears in her eyes she hugs me as well, then pops my arm like my mom used to do when I was a child. While the memories were fond, the pain was not. I rubbed the sore spot and looked at her afraid she would just hit me again.

   “Tiffany or should I say Gia. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

   “I know Ms. A. I promise you at least that much. I will tell you what I can about me and Kalen as soon as we get out of here.”

   “And go where Child? I’ve got a feeling if Kyle’s...sorry I mean Kalen’s father is who I think it is you won’t get very far.”

“Mommy!!!!!” Kalen pulls at the bottom of my shirt until I bend down to pick him up. 

“Should you be doing that?”

I looked at Ms. A and hugged my baby tight to me. I ignored that maybe she was right, I needed to hold him. 

“Mama’ you feel better?”

“Yes mama is okay. Are you hungry? Are you okay?”

“You said we can eat Ice cream!”

I looked at him and he didn’t seem to answer my question, but his mood was fine.

“I am sure my friend has some ice cream here somewhere. Let’s go find Alfred.”

I kissed him on the cheek and sat him down on the ground and he grabbed my hand. I noticed Arthur in the doorway.

“Kalen did my friend introduce himself to you?”

“He looks mean” he says quietly, Arthur hides a smirk.

“He’s a friend of mommy’s. He’s not going to mean to you if you are nice to him.”

I led him forward stopping in front of Arthur.

“Baby, this is Mr. Arthur.”

Arthur’s face softens, and he comes down to my sons level, a smile on his face.

“ I’m usually only mean to the bad guys. Can I get a high five little buddy?”

He holds his hand up and Kalen reluctantly smacks it . Arthur pretends to be hurt, grabbing his hand as if in pain.

“Whoa little man, you are strong! Gia, you are you sure he is only 3!”

He says with dramatics but he also looks at me. The unspoken words being that his obviously abnormal strength was furthermore proof of his paternal parentage. 

“Mommy he doesn’t look like the Arthur on TV.”

I laughed and Arthur looked at me confused.

“Kalen he is not the same Arthur from your TV show.”

I looked at Arthur who had now stood back up and looked confused.

“He thinks you are supposed to be Arthur the Aardvark.”

“Oh, well I think I’m cooler than an aardvark. More like a fish. We will go to the beach one day and I’ll show you a buncha cool stuff that I can only show my friends. You are my friend right?”

My son nods happily.

“Alright my man! Let’s go raid the kitchen. I’m sure Barry is down there somewhere with the good stuff.”

We followed him down the hallway to the large  sitting room where Victor and Diana were chatting with Alfred. Barry was lounging with a large sandwich and his feet up. 

“Hi everyone. I have some very important people I’d like for you to meet if you haven’t already. This is Sarah Alphonse, she has been instrumental in helping me with little man here.”

Ms. A. Smiles at everyone in the room and walks over to have a seat on one of the large couches in the room. 

  “And speaking of the little man, everyone this is my son, Kalen.”

Barry’s eyes got big and I was under the assumption that he hadn’t actually seen my son up close. Diana simply waved at the little boy.

He waved back clearly having remembered her from the plane ride. He took one look at Victor and to his credit he didn’t scream, he only moved behind my legs, peaking from behind them. 

  “Kalen this is Mr. Victor. He helps mommy when she needs to get the bad guys. He’s kinda like a transformer and a computer all in one.”

  “So he a robot?”

 “He’s A PERSON that just can do really awesome stuff with computers and looks really cool too. Mr. Victor is pretty darn awesome himself, Can you say to him for me?”

He comes behind my legs slightly and Victor leans forward but otherwise lets Kalen come to him. He reaches out slowly once Kalen is close enough and Kalen reaches up touches the metal of his hand. Victor makes a fist and they bump in a cool way and Kalen smiles at Victor. 

I could feel Victors relief to be able to interact with a small child and not have him run screaming. 

 “BooYah!” Victor says and my son picks up in that instantly

  “Boo ya! Boo ya!!”

We all laugh at his innocent excitement. I take note his eyes are no longer brown like mine but have reverted back to their natural blue.

 “So guys little bro was promised some ice cream, Alfred my man do you think we could find some for him?”

  “Of course Mr. Curry. Would young Mr. Smith and Ms. Alphonse like to accompany me to pick some out? Mr. Wayne likes to keep a few flavors in the house for his ‘cheat day’”

We all laughed at Alfred’s little reveal about the stoic man that he basically raised. 

 “Come on young man they might have some candy too!”

He cheers and takes off in a run behind her and Alfred.

  “Please Don't let him have too much sugar!”

I yell behind them, but I know it’s a moot point. 

That leaves the team to look at me.

 “So am I crazy or does that kid look like A mini, tan...”

I cut Barry off before he could finish his sentence with a raised hand.

 “He looks like the father that does not know about him Barry. It’s complicated and I’m scared as shit. Diana here has convinced me to come clean. I think this a terrible idea, but I will pull him aside whenever he and Bruce come back. If he doesn’t come back here, I’ll drive out to Smallville. I just want to ease this on him. It’s delicate...”

I am interrupted by a door opening to my left. 

  “Recon proved unsuccessful. I’ll start gathering surveillance.”

Bruce says as he comes into the room, removing his cowl and still frowning. He looks at me standing there and maybe he is even surprised I am up. He doesn’t let in linger however. 

 “Gia. It’s good to find you awake.”

 “Thank you for coming to save me Bruce.”

 “Glad I could be of service. Have they told you where your son is?”

“Yes he is raiding your cheat day ice cream as we speak.”

“Good. I assumed that it was best to keep him away while you healed and had a chance to explain.”

 “Everyone else has had a very brief explanation, one that they can explain to you. I am not fond of repeating myself. Where is Clark?”

I said really hoping Bruce wasn’t about to try and check me about not telling any of them about my dalliance with Clark. It really wasn’t any of their business. He seemed to have enough sense to back off of the subject anyway. 

  “He went to the room you were in to check on  you. I guess since you are here, he will be in, in about...”

At that moment Clark comes back in the room, still in full Superman Regalia. His eyes softened the moment they saw me.

  “Gia I was worried when I couldn’t find you in your room. Why are you up and moving already?”  He furrows his brows (a habit he had developed for his confusion) 

  “I am fine Clark.” 

He comes closer, his arms pulling me into a hug which I resisted. I could feel his disappointment at my lack of interaction. 

  “I don’t know about that. I literally just cauterized an internal bleed less than a few hours ago. I think you ought to come lay back down.”

He keeps one arm wrapped around me, a sort of one armed hug as he tried to usher me out the door. I pulled away.

  “I said I am fine Clark. I don’t want to sit down or lay down. We, however, should talk.”

I motioned between the two of us. 

  “I agree Gia. I need to change out of this but we should talk...without the eyes.”

He motions to the other members on the team, and smirks at me. Innocent enough that I almost tear up. This could be the last time I see this directed toward me, a sort of warm fondness envelops me. 

 “Let’s go back to my room.”

Clark laughs at how I begin to push him toward the door, he moves because he wants to, not because I can move him under any power of my own. 

 “Forever the pushy one now this is the Gia I remember.”

 “Omg just move it Kent.”

We were almost to the door leading to the hallway, when the doors on the opposite side of the room opened and Kalen came running at my legs, full speed, I picked him up despite the burn to my side. I forced a smile on my face while my heartbeat I knew Clark could hear went wild.

 “Momma! Momma! They had the bestest ice cream here! They have the Star Wars kind! I ate’d it and Mr. Alfred let me have some gummy bears too!”

I swung him around noting that the Sugar High he had was just getting started, and kissed his cheek, looking at only his face, because I knew shit was about to hit the fan as soon as I looked up. 

 “That is Good Baby. I told you that you would get your ice cream for being a good boy.”

It was then that Kalen finally looked beyond me and to the two new additions to the room. The excitement mixed with trepidation as they landed on the man closest to me. I finally looked up at Clark, and when I did. It was the first time he made eye contact with his son. The emotions felt like a punch in the gut.

Confusion and fear are the most prominent. The fear from Clark was new to me. He was never scared, I didn’t even feel fear from him when he flew that spear into the Zod-monster.

“Momma is that the man from the tv? Supa’man?”

He points to Clark who I have yet to see breathe. Clark is only staring at him, taking a few steps back from where the two of us stood.

The rest of the room follows the same suit as him, holding their breath as they await something to happen.

I push his hand down.

  “Baby, What did momma say about pointing at people?”

  “It not nice. I rude if I points. But momma that’s Supa’man!”

He starts bouncing in my arms excitedly. 

  “Sorry everyone. You guys know When Superman passed they did and still do a lot of specials about the people he has saved, plus on the kids shows they animated him, talked about him. They even did a whole special about his death and what it means. He became a big fan.”

I looked at my son whose eyes were lit up still their natural blue. He had the biggest smile on his face as he worked around trying to get down. Little did he know I was using him a life jacket. He was the only thing keeping me grounded. 

  “Ummm yeah baby that’s Superman, but you still can’t point at him.”

  “Can’ts I say hi? You put me down momma?”

I kiss his cheek, he wipes it off, not wanting to be seen getting a kiss from his mother in front of Superman.

 “Ummm I can but please be the polite young man I know you can be?”

I let him slide down and I watch as he takes the steps over to Clark, which were a lot calmer than I thought they would be. Clark wastes no time dropping to his knee in front of the little boy.

“Momma says you are Su’paman.”

Clark opens his mouth to speak and at first his voice is only a whisper, as clearly his is clogged. He was choked up and I couldn’t blame him.

“Your mother would be right. I am Superman. What is your name?”

 “My name is Kalen Jo-seph Smith! You have a cool cape Mr. Supa’man! It’s my favorite color!”

 “What color is that Kalen?” I offer trying to smooth the interaction.

 “Red!” I smile at his child's excitement.

 “Wow! I like that color too. How old are you Kalen?” Clark says

  “I’m 3 and a half years old!”

Clark doesn’t look at me, but I know he was confirming the timeline in his mind by Kalen’s age. I had my hand near my mouth already, the other arm wrapped around my torso, trying to disappear. I knew I couldn’t go invisible, not with my son in the room.

 “Wow you are such a big boy! Strong little man too I bet.” Clark says with a wide smile, though his emotions were still a mix of shock, fear, and worry.

 “Yeah man you should feel little dudes high five. Lil man is going to be catching trains just like you someday.”

Arthur says with a joke to soften the tension in the room and my Kalen feels even better. Something I was grateful for. It was short-lived because it triggered my son to inadvertently change his hairstyle to match the short- straight cut and black that Clark currently had. 

Clark jumped slightly along with everyone else in the room, with the exception of Ms. A.I ran over to my son, picking him up again to which he was okay with because he was startled by Clark’s sudden movement. I smiled at the room hoping to show that my child wasn’t dangerous to anyone as everyone’s anxiety and nervousness shot up ten fold.

  “I guess I owe a small explanation to you all. My little Kalen here is special. He can change small things about his appearance. His eye color, his hair. The hair can be kind of funny, one time I came in the room it was long and blue. I imagine it will be bigger things as he grows into his powers. It’s the reason I only have trusted him with Ms. Alphonse. He doesn’t do it knowingly yet, which means he can’t control it.”

  “He has been able to do this since birth?” Bruce asks

  “Not immediately after. They had enough time to note his hair was dark brown and his eyes blue. It honestly didn’t start until he was about 6 months and it was only his eyes. Funny thing was I thought I was going crazy from lack of sleep. I finally broke down one day while trying to get him to stop crying because he had colic and Ms. A came to my door. She helped me so much with him since then. After a good night's rest, I took note that my child’s eyes were no longer like...( I was about to say Clark’s but stopped myself) they weren’t blue but brown. I was staring him in the eyes when they changed back as he lit up upon seeing me. Kalen just has gifts.”

 “Well I guess we should expect nothing less from your child.” Victor offers with a smirk. 

We all watched his hair go back to normal and I looked to Ms. Alphonse who stepped forward then I looked at my baby.

 “Alright little man. It’s getting kind of late, I think someone should start getting ready for bed.”

 “But mommy I don’t wanna. Superman is here! What if I go to sleeps and he goes away?”

      “Umm...”

I start to say, still not sure if Clark will have anything to do with us, but Clark steps forward and holds out his arms to take Kalen, who excitedly reaches for him. My eyes prick as Clark truly holds his son for the first time and I feel the full feeling of completeness and love I felt pouring out of him. My son hugs him back, just happy be hugging Superman. Clark finally pulls back to swing him to his side, Kalen basically sitting on his forearm, with a huge smile on his face.

   “Momma I’m taller than you now!”

“Yep you are! Someday will be that tall without a Superhero holding you, but for now, you are a little mini that needs to get ready for bed.”

   “Can Mr. Superman come with me?”

He asks and Clark who hadn’t stopped looking at his son since he appeared finally looked me in my face, eager as to what I would say.

  “Ummm... how about you get ready for bed with Ms. Alphonse and if he doesn’t get called away to save the world Mr. Superman will come up and read you a story.”

   “Don’t worry Kalen the world will wait when it comes to you. I’ll come read you any story you want.”

Kalen almost squeals he’s so excited and Clark sits him down on the ground excitedly.

Alfred comes over to Ms. A.

  “Let me show you to some guest rooms on this side of the wing.” 

Clark stands back up after sitting Kalen back in his own two feet, we both watch him leave with Ms. A. Once the door closes, he just looks at me. 

 “Ummm...I think I left a tea kettle somewhere in Hong Kong. I better go.” Barry takes off and I feel like I am about to fall apart at the intensity at which Clark stares at me. 

 “ I have to go do...something. Gia remember what I told you.”

Diana offers before leaving the room, Bruce and Victor begins after her.

“Yeah it’s getting pretty damn intense in here. I need a drink.”

Arthur says and follows the rest of the team out.

As soon as the door closes I get the strength to look Clark in his eyes again...

A/n: CLARK KNOWS! Now I can get into the meat of the story!

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Tag list for this is open so just let me know if you want in!

TAGLIST

@bloodyinspiredfuck​ @romyr4​

[goldstonegolem64]

Book1 Hope returns Chapter4 Down the rabbit By goldstonegolem64

note: I rewrite this chapter do to  small mistake that I notice along with other things I notice and also I add on to it has well.    

The Mine’s entrains was foreboding to the duo even though the two were armed and ready the fear of the unknow was nagging at the back of their mines.

So are you ready to go Jay asked has he turned his head to look at Adam

Adam was wearing jays Spare suit Do to it giving him more protection then his standard garrison but he keep his helmet after he had replaced the cracked visor

I’m ready when you are he replied.

As the two descended in to the jay hit serval bottom on his wrist. Four small bird like drones roar to life and flew after the two men illuminating the dark cave hallway. Going deeper and deeper down mines the signal was getting stronger .Over the comms Beauregard's voices was heard  saying the signal is about two kilometers away so just keep go straight down and you will be fine. Half an hour later the two found themselves staring at a dead end.

Hey beau we were following the waypoint you set for us and it just send us straight to a dead end Jay said 

That doesn't seem right Beauregard said lets me rescan the mines.

on the surface the cargo ship named Prometheus facing the cave fired a bright blue ball that exploded releasing a massive shock wave that shook the surrounding area, In the mine Adam and Jay feel the earth rumble under they feet.

Hey is it safe to do that w Adam asked with concern in his voices 

its perfectly safe Jay said confinity as the ground gave out beneath. oh fuck Jay let out as he fell into the hole  

Adam watch in fear as jay fell down the newly uncovered hole in slow motion then realized that he was falling down the hole really slow. Walking over to the edge he saw Jay starring at him as he slowly descended arms crossed Adam couldn't see Jay’s face do to the mask he wear but he could tell he looked annoyed at the situation he found himself in

So what was that about it being perfectly Adam said with a smile .

Flipping the bird  to his friend Jay said while holding back a laugh come follow me down the rabbit hole my friend. 

Adam laughing a little jumped down the hole after his pal.

Has they fell static started to coming out of the comms

h-y do --u r-ad m- th-r- -s a tra---sson from -ars sa--ng .

the rest of the message was cut off.

Beauregard do you copy Jay said Repeat do you copy!

only Static filling the fed.

the two starred at each with a mixite of confusion and fear. The two keep falling for ten more minutes before Adam saw a light at the bottom of the hole.

hey Jay turn around there is a light Adam said.

Turning around to see the light slowly get closer and closer to see what looks like the begin of a  hallway from the view point of someone in venation system. The moment he saw the room clearly he felt his body push thought something  then he felt weight return and fell face first on to the metal ground with a loud thud. then he felt Adam slamming in to him knocking the wind out of him. 

Sorry Adam said getting off him then giving him a hand to help him get up.

Taking the hand Jay notice his helmet saying that the room had oxygen in it.

Hey Adam I'm going to take off my helmet jay said 

What no don't do that is suicide Adan yelled.

Jay removed his helmet before Adam could stop him and took a deep breath the air was stale but breathable. Adam took his helmet and starred at him confused.

What happened to beau one minute we hear him fine the next static Adam said concern 

I don't know but this room seems familiar jay replied

as the duo talked the four drones enter the hallway waiting orders.

what are we going to do with then? Adam asked

I will send squawk talk and buzzer back to ship to see what beau wanted to tell us. while ratbat and lazerbeck stay with us. he answered as two of the drones felt.

Did you name your drone after transformers? Adam asked 

And what if I did their me drones and lets focus on the task at hand and fined that signal and a exit Jay said.

We could start with that door at the end of the hall Adam stated.

Jay turn to see a familiar door way yet he couldn't place where he had seen it. As the group walked toward the door it open on its on to show a huge laboratory. entering the room it looked untouched by the and of time. As the group explored the room Adam walked over to a decks and lets a scream in surprise. Jay ran over to Adam pulling the drum shotgun from his back and point it toward what Adam was starring at and so the skeleton on a person on the floor.

who is that Adam asked? 

I don't know by I do know that he is Altean he said. As moved the body to see the blue mark on his face.

How long do you think he's been here Adam Asked ?

no clue but he wasn't shot because there is no exit or entrains wounds and no blood stains on the floor so he die of poison or natural causes Jay answer.

As they checked the body a hologram appeared in front of them.

Hello if you are watch Is I am dead. but that doesn't matter at the moment what dose is the information I'm going to give you. I was once A great architect for the royal family of altea and I was task in helping build a great weapon called Voltron its purpose was to help keep the innocent safe. but I know something would go wrong so I build a weapon to counter Voltron If it fell in to the wrong hand called Valkyrie. Has I thought something did go wrong but not what I had predicted. Zarkon the emperor of the galra attacked us. in the last moment of are planets life a group of saviors tried to escape the destruction of are home world with no Voltron or battle ships to defend them I jumped in to Valkyrie a acted as the vanguard to them. but unknow to me the quintessence need to power Valkyrie was to much for my body to handle so after that I spend the last three years of my life to find the prefect pilot for her and I found them a subspecies of Alteans called Berserkers warriors who could handle huge amounts of quintessence going though their body's for long periods of time with no fear of death. in their berserker form they are bigger stronger faster and more durable but at the cost of their minds the hologram said.

 has the two proceed the new information a huge amount of picture appeared showing different thing with information like an altean man with four red marks two on cheek  transforming in to a massive red skinned lizard creature with cat like feature. others showed Voltron and the loins that made it up. but most of the  picture  showed the Valkyrie a dragon like machine That changed in to a humanoid woman with a spear in one hand and a bow in the other. 

one last thing before you go you most take this. A door at the side of the  open to reveal a suit of armor and a weird looking item. the Bayard is a weapon that will change to fit the user. The hologram said

Adam looked to the hologram then to jay and asked did you know of Voltron or was that something your government hide from the people he asked with a look of concern for Jay as he starred at the picture of the berserker.

No I didn't know about Voltron or the fact that I was a berserker. but that doesn't matter at the moment because during the little video we just watch Ratbat found information about the Kerberos mission and its crew

Adam starred quietly with tears starting to take form. show it to me now. walking toward the console Adam began to steel is nerves as he was about watch his fiancé last moment before his death. But the screen showed something different it showed that Shiro and the other had made it safely to Kerberos. Adam felt a weight on his heart being lifted. but as he watched the view changed to show a ship just appear out of no where. jay get over here now Adam said with fear in his voice. 

The moment jay got there he watch in horror as the galra ship fire a beam of light that sucked up anything the light touched and the three small people trying to out run the light in vain. 

when was that ? jay asked the hologram.

About a year ago the hologram replied.

fear ran through  jay’s face as the relation hit him if the galra were here they might come back and find his home and  the earth. Adam we need to get back to mars and warn them about the galra invasion that is on its way. 

But what about the garrison and earth they need to know too Adam said 

We will handle that later right know mars has to be informed first jay counted hey where is the exit to this place we need to go now.

I'm way ahead of you my friend the hologram said. the moment he said that the ground began to shack as they felt themselves going up.

As they ascend beau’s voices came back saying what is going on down there first they go silent then a huge dragon thing lands in front of me and know this weird building is coming out of the earth what is today.

Hey beau can you hear me.Jay said .

oh thank the goddess your alive but right now I most tell you.mars is tell all traders and salvager to get back now a galra cruiser was see hand to earth.

What why are they head to earth Adam yelled.

Maybe because of the blue lion is there. the holograms said 

What now jay said confused 

About twenty years ago a ship crash on earth with the blue lion seventeen years later the same ship left. the blue lion location is in the middle of a desert near a Garrison base.

wait how do you now that Adam asked 

Valkyrie like to know everything that goes on in the system so I record anything that is important or new and let her know. the ai replied.

ok Adam I know this conversation is important to you but there is a giant robot dragon I'm going to pilot so lets get out of here jay said while he was putting the new armor on.Then grabbing the Bayard the moment jays hand grasped it the white and silver item glowed and turned in to a  hand cannon then It changed back to its original form. 

That was cool I have to admit Adam said starring at the Bayard.

Has the two headed for the exit when beau’s voices came over the radio saying we have in coming. 

[infinitysdecendants76730]

Infinity’s Descendants- Becoming la Reine de la Mort

“Les Bourreaux du Seigneur”

Guillame’s cold face slowly transformed into a warm and happy one. “Guillame my good friend. How have you been?” Luther pulled Guillame into a warm embrace and the Shadow Killers got off their horses. “I trust your family and the rest of the villagers have been doing well?” He asked. “Yes Luther, we have all fared well that is until her as of late” replied Guillaume. “Right Les Bourreaux du Seigneur. Let us go somewhere private to discuss this. As you can see some introductions are in order as well” Guillame looked at each of the shadow killers as Luther spoke.

We followed Guillame to his home.  His wife was kind but I could tell she was still apprehensive about having so many of ‘us’ in her home. She offered us all beverages to which we kindly accepted. Luther introduced us each to Guillame. “It is a pleasure to meet you all. I speak on behalf of everyone here in the village when I say we appreciate you doing this for us.” He said sincerely.


As the night passed on Guillame provided us with very detailed information on where to find them how many of them he thought there were and what sort of weaponry they had. “Poor Mrs. Chambord. She was forced to watch” Guillame’s wife nestled herself more into her husband’s comforting arms as she spoke. “What were they inquiring about?” asked Malachi. “She stated they kept shouting asking where the agricultural plans were” She replied. “Agricultural plans?” I asked. “Oui, seems they are keen on building elaborate farms? One can only imagine why” she shrugged. I searched my comrade’s eyes. Some of the documents I took from the treasury were agricultural plans.  Farms were being brought up too often for this to be a coincidence. I noticed that some of my peers looked just as perplexed as me and that there were some who didn’t.

“Never mind that my love” Guillame said to his wife. “When is it that you will strike? Do you need any of us to accompany you?” he asked me. “No sir, your village has suffered enough. We will handle this for you” I replied. “Thank you mademoiselle. And what of the strike?” He inquired again. “We will strike soon enough” I stood and gave a polite bow. “Thank you for your hospitality. Would you be so kind as to show us to our accommodations so that we may begin to prepare for our assault?” My attention was now on his wife. “Of course!” Guillame hurried his wife off his lap. “I will show you to your lodging. After me please” she grabbed a lantern and headed towards the doors. Luther lingered, perhaps to say his farewells to Monsieur Guillame.

“Please forgive us. This was all we could manage to gather on such short notice.” She said timidly. “Short notice? I was under the impression you knew that we were coming to aid you?” I have a strange feeling in my gut that there are things going on beyond the scope of my knowledge. What these things are I do not know yet but one thing for certain is I will find out what they are. “Yes we were. We had no knowledge that there would be a woman coming as well” she admitted. “Ah I see. This is more than enough. You would not believe me if I told you were I resided just a few years ago.” I laughed to make her feel at ease but I seriously doubt that she would believe it. She smiled and opened the door for me.

~~~~~

It had been about 7 nights since the Shadow Killer’s arrived.  There hadn’t been any attacks but the villagers were beginning to grow weary. The longer the Shadow Killer’s waited the higher the chances got that the Bourreax du Seigneur would return.  Guillame and Luther were having a drink in one of the village’s taverns. “I fear that you are misunderstanding me. I am not saying that I feel the Shadow Killer’s cannot protect us. I am only fearful that we will have to suffer more losses of our people and damages to our village.” Guillaume stated firmly as he voiced his worries. “I understand your concerns but this is out of my hands. I cannot act unless commanded. You know this Guillame so what are you asking of me?” replied Luther. “I ask nothing of you in that regard but perhaps you can tell her that I am requesting an audience with her. Can you do that for me?” Guillame’s eyes were pleading with his comrade. Luther felt pity for his friend and the rest of the villagers. “Of course.” He replied placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I am to see her later tonight. I will tell her then”. Guillaume raised his glass in appreciation for his friends willingness to help and the two continued conversing until it was time for Luther to depart.

Malachi was sitting in the common area of their lodging reading the latest gazette when Luther approached. “May I join you?” He asked. “Of course” Malachi replied looking up from the paper. Not long after Luther sat Malachi could sense something was amiss so he sat the gazette in his lap “You seem tense. Is here something that is troubling you?”. Luther hesitated but finally expressed what was weighing on him. “It has been at least 5 nights since we arrived here in this village…yet we have done nothing” he said barely above a whisper in case the others were listening. Malachi remained silent, eying Luther expectantly so as to suggest he was waiting for the rest of the sentence. “Do you not find that odd?” he Luther. “What are you getting at?” Replied Malachi. “Should we not have taken some sort of action by now? We have done nothing and the villagers are beginning to become concerned that soon the Bourreaux du Seigneur will return” Luther longed for some sort of explanation for the lack of action. Unfortunately Malachi had none or at least none he was willing to disclose. “Azazelle always has a plan. If we have not made a move yet I can assure you there is valid reason” he replied. “But what of the villagers” contested Luther. Malachi began reading the gazette again. “If you have a concern present it to Azazelle. She is always willing to listen” Malachi was getting bored with this conversation. “Will you present it to her? She may receive it better if it comes from her most trusted confidant” suggested Luther. “I will do no such thing” Malachi replied dryly not even bothering to look up at Luther. “It is your concern. You need to be the one to present it” he continued. Luther was frustrated but he knew Malachi was right. So off he went to speak with Azazelle.

~~~~~

I took a deep breath before knocking on her door.

“Qui est la?” she called out.

“C’est moi, Luther”

“Entrez” she replied.

As I entered I expected her to be making her way to the door to great me but that was not the case. As I surveyed the all too quiet room; the fireplace was lit but the couch before it was unoccupied, the bed too was empty, and finally I saw her at a small table in the far corner of the room. There she sat twirling a quill as she gazed out the window, the moonlight softly adorning her face. Again I found myself regarding just as I had been before we left Maziérè. She was truly beautiful but her young eyes displayed a pain, anguish and a longing that I hadn’t seen even vampires three times her age. Her beautiful eyes shifted from the window to mine. I had been caught staring at her again but she was neither mad nor offended. “Désolé de te déranger.” I said softly.  I could tell her mind hadn’t truly left wherever it just was.  “You are not disturbing. I haven’t been able to gather my thoughts enough to even start so please join me” she said putting down the quill.  “Who were you writing to?” I took my seat across from her. “An old friend I have lost touch with. I haven’t written a letter in some time though, I feel I may have lost my touch” she grinned. I desperately wanted to express my concerns for Guillame and his villagers but it did not seem the right time. “Do you have many friends you write to?” she asked cutting the silence. “Not many, just one really. His name is Legion. I was writing to him when you visited my chambers. He would have loved to become a death dealer. Although he can be quite a loose cannon sometimes” I laughed “Sounds like quite a character” she responded. “Indeed he is.” For some reason I couldn’t bring myself to look at her as the room fell silent.

“It seems that I am not the only one with things on my mind tonight?” she said with a raised brow. “How do you mean?” I replied despite of knowing exactly what she meant. “I am fairly certain you did not come see me to discuss writing letters. What is it?” she said softly, gathering her hair to one side. “C'est les villageois” I sighed. Before I could continue she was already replying. “What of them? Has there been another attack?” she straightened in her chair. “No, no. There have been no more attacks. They are just concerned that our lack of haste in retaliation may give the Bourreax another opportunity to attack” She said nothing. This made me uncomfortable perhaps I should elaborate further. “They do not feel that we are inadequate they are simply concerned about suffering more loss.” She shook her head.  Finally some sort of response from her! I was beginning to think she had petrified. “Do you share their concerns?” she asked. “Of course not” I replied instinctively “But we have been here for 7 nights and have done nothing” “Ce n'est pas vrai” she replied. “Ce n'est pas?” Her response surprised me. “We have been here for 7 nights but you are the only one who has done nothing. Malachi, Griffith, Adonis and myself have all been on reconnaissance trips as well as gathered additional vital intel that will not only protect the villagers now but in the future as well” I cannot believe that they were doing all of this and no one told me. “Why was I not made aware? I would have gladly done anything that you asked of me” I know I failed to hide the pain in my voice. If she felt I was not ready why did she request that I join them? “You wish to lead the death dealers at Maziérè once we have left do you not? Or have I misjudged your aspirations?” She asked bluntly. “No you have not misjudged” I replied. “A leader takes the initiative. They do not sit idle nor wait around to be told how to accomplish their assignment once it has been given to them.” My head sank, she was right.

I felt a soft hand touch mine. “Nevertheless, it is commendable that you came to me with this information.” When I looked up at her she drew back and gave me a comforting smile. “You will find that the way I handle things are a bit unorthodox when compared to what you consider customary. Change is necessary in order to evolve” I was unsure where she was going with this and she picked up on that. “I say all that to say that I am going to let you lead this assault. Gather the others, in order that you may be briefed and can decide how you would like to proceed” She picked her quill back up and dipped it in the ink. I was was speechless. I am to lead the assault? Holy shit. “That is all. You may go” she pointed her quill at the door. “Oh, um right. Merci Mademoiselle” I bowed awkwardly and left with haste.

~~~~~

______________________________________________________________________________________

The operation had gone without a hitch. 27 members of The Bourreaux du Seigneur were killed and there were many more that were injured. Those remaining in the cell would not bother Guillame or any of the other villagers any time soon. Luther lead a seamless mission and it was now time for the assembly of The Maziérè family’s squad of death dealers. Azazelle was to oversee the construction of the group but the presence of the remaining Shadow Killers was not needed for this. Plus the House of Léon had very little protection while the Shadow Killers were away.

Malachi hugged Azazelle tightly. “Mon dieu Malachi, you act as though you will never see her again. She will be returning to Léon as soon as she is done here” Griffith groaned making his way to the carriage. “He is right Malachi, besides we must get going” Adonis added. He too gave Azazelle a hug then grabbed Malachi’s arm to take him towards the carriage. “Careful not kill anyone” he jested. She laughed “I make no promises Adonis! I wish you all safe travels!”

Azazelle would spend the next 6 months with the Maziérè family. Over that time period she familiarized herself with every inch, nook, cranny and corridor of the house. She also became extremely familiar with the Houses grounds and surrounding towns. If she were to train death dealers to protect it she had to know all things about what they were protecting. Although she frequently kept to herself many in the House had taken quite a liking to her. There were a choice few that she developed close friendships with during her tenure; Desmond, Luther and Guillaume being the main three.

The time was nearing for Azazelle’s return to the House of Léon though. She had only 7 nights before she was to leave. This particular night she was practicing her archery with Luther; the two had been taking turns doing trick shots. “Look at that, in only six months time you are hitting shots that it took me years to hit with consistent accuracy” Luther lowered his bow and smiled. “I have had a great teacher” she replied pulling the bow string back. Out the side of her eye she saw the puzzled look on his face. She released the arrow hitting the bullseye on the straw target’s head. “What is it?” She asked, not understanding his sudden change in mood. “You are to leave in just a few days time and I have yet to find a way to thank you for what you have done for our House and for me” he replied. “The entire time you have been here you have devoted yourself to one thing and one thing only, the success of our death dealers. You allowed yourself very little if any leisure time. Perhaps, if you are willing, you will allow me to provide you some leisure?” Now Azazelle was the one with a perplexed look on her face. She had caught Luther’s eyes lingering for longer than they should at times and quite frankly at times her eyes lingered on him too long as well but the two of them had always kept everything professional. She looked around the room nervously unsure about what he was to say next. He picked up on her apprehensions. “I only meant that we should have a meal together, not as Luther leader of Maziere’s new death dealers and Azazelle leader of the Shadow Killer’s. Simply as Azazelle and Luther, two people who have became friends over the last 6 months. No business, no briefing or strategy talk; Just drinks, laughter and enjoyment. Have you any thoughts? It is the least I can do as a thank you and a farewell” Before he decided to ask he had already resolved that he would keep his eyes on her until she spoke and that’s exactly what he did. She gave his proposition some thought before responding then said “I would like that, however, I have a special request. If we are to have this meal it is to be in a less common area of the house. I dread dressing for anything formal. It always proves to be quite the opposite of anything leisurely” Luther laughed at her admission. He wouldn’t have ever guessed that that was the case the way she usually carried herself. “That is a request that I can guarantee will be fulfilled” he replied with a smile.

A couple days had passed, Luther and Azazelle were to have their dinner tonight. Azazelle had requested for Béatrice, one of the lady servants whom she had come to be very fond of, help her select her dress for the evening. “It is to be informal so I wish to be comfortable” she said thumbing through her wardrobe. “Ah what about this one?” She turned to Béatrice holding a yellow dress accented with cream colored lace and gold buttons. Béatrice scrunched her face and tilted her head “Mehh”. “Too much for the occasion?” “Very much so” laughed Béatrice. “I think so too…hmmm” Azazelle resumed sifting through the dresses. “Nope. Nope. Too heavy. Too hot. This one is hideous. The dressmaker should be fired for this but that is none of my business” Béatrice cackled as Azazelle through the ‘hideous dress’ in the pile of clothes she was to discard before she returned to her House. Even her ‘informal clothes’ were still too formal for her liking. She had but a few dresses left in the wardrobe. She couldn’t contain her excitement as saw the next dress. “Ooh Ooh, what about this one?” She turned to Béatrice holding a simple emerald green dress. Béatrice’s eyes were as wide as saucers and she gulped as she put her hand on her chest.

“I had this commissioned. Why do you think?” Béatrice was at a loss for words. “Well um…I haven’t ever…uhh…are you actually going to wear that?” She whispered shock still riddled all over her face. “Of course, why wouldn’t I? My sis-I mean my friend used to make me dresses like this back home. This one isn’t anywhere near the quality but given that this was the dressmaker’s first attempt at something like this I would say its a job well done.” The dress may be a bit controversial but at least it was not riddled with tulle and laces that itched her to death. It did, however, put her breasts on display but she had grown to be comfortable with her assets being displayed. Céleste would be proud of her she thought. “I cannot say that I have the confidence to wear something as risque as this but I can say without a doubt say you look stunning in it. If I may please allow me to make a suggestion” Azazelle laid the dress across her bed and devoted her attention to jewelry. “I am listening. Please continue” she said rummaging through a chest of earrings and necklaces. “Perhaps to soften the shock to house members seeing you like this sort of attire you may consider a cape?”

Luther had requested that Azazelle meet him in the Grande Singerie, a small boudoir that was reserved for Maziérè’s most highly esteemed guests. As she made her way down the hallway she could hear laughter. Perhaps Luther had changed his mind and the new death dealers would be joining them as well she thought, although she truly hoped that was not the case. Nevertheless she took a deep breath and entered the singerie. She was greeted by the refreshing sight of Luther sitting on a couch lightheartedly laughing with one of the servants.

The two of the men did not even notice that Azazelle had entered. “Seems like the two of you are having quite the time. May I pour myself a glass of whatever it is the two of you are having?” She inquired with a shy smile. “Ho-lee-shit” the servant said frozen in place. Luther quickly stood and begin straightening his coat then gave the servant a not so subtle nudge which finally got him moving. He scurried past Azazelle to the table to pour her a drink. “Forgive us” he cleared his throat “we did not see you there. Please” Luther gestured to the couch “Take a seat and have a drink with me. Our meal will be served shortly” Azazelle took her seat and took in the room. The artistry in these houses never ceased to amaze her. “Informal or formal you still look very beautiful tonight. Would you not agree monsieur?” Luther noted the servants struggle to keep his eyes at bay and wondered if his struggles were as obvious too. “Oui monsieur very beautiful” the servants eyes finally settled on her breasts. Luckily Azazelle hadn’t noticed, to save her from any embarrassment Luther dismissed the servant. “I do not mind if he stays. I had no intention of breaking up your conversation” Azazelle said apologetically. “No Mademoiselle, Luther is right. I need to go check on your dinner. Before I depart I would like to say that it has been a pleasure having you here at Maziérè. I wish you success in all of your future endeavors. The two of you enjoy your evening.” With that he bowed and took his leave, leaving the two death dealers by themselves.

Azazelle relaxed into the couch and crossed her legs turned her body towards Luther. “You and Guillaume are close friends. How did that come about? The Camorra frowns on fraternizing with mortals do they not?” She asked as her fingered traced the rim of her glass.

“Bon question. He and I are very good friends” he smiled. “Our arrangement with the village is a fairly complicated one. We offer them protection in exchange for goods. It has proven to be very hard to get the goods we need to Maziérè through the regular channels” That seemed very straight forward to her. She couldn’t understand why he would consider an arrangement such as that as complicated. “So they are aware of your arrangement with the mortals?” she questioned.

“Not entirely” he laughed then took a sip of his drink. “Ah, I see, this is the complicated bit I presume?” She finished her drink and started to reach for the decanter but Luther beat her too it. He began to explain the nature of the complications as he poured her drink. “You see we used wars to grow in numbers and do the most heinous of things. With so many being slain the matter in which it happened was of no importance but our enemy did the same things. We were hunted, captured, tortured and dissected. Marius and the Camorra forbade any of us to have any dealings with mortals beyond the scope they felt necessary. If it were found out that any of us had any connections we were to be punished severely” Luther shook his head as i he were trying to rid it of unpleasant thoughts. “Understood” she said with a nod.

Even with her in this dress Luther had managed to keep his eyes on hers, for the most part. She was impressed yet somewhat disappointed but she was struggling to understand why. The door behind Luther opened and a women with an apron entered the room. The smell of the food quickly filled the room. It smelled delightful, it reminded Azazelle of the nights they’d have family dinners and their mother would cook. The woman gave Zaz a once over before advising that dinner was ready.

There was a small table in the center of the room and the setting was very intimate. A few wall sconces and a crystal candelabra provided the only lighting in the room. It was a little more romantic then Luther had planned but he decided he would just go with it until Azazelle objected. He pulled out the chair for her and she straightened her dress one final time before taking her seat “merci beaucoup”. Luther removed his coat and handed it to a servant before taking his seat. “Really?” she scoffed. Luther looked up at her “Gold plates?” “A bit ostentatious don’t you think?” She laughed holding one of them up. The woman with the apron was approaching with a pitcher to fill Azazelle’s glass. “If the settings are not to your liking we can have them removed we have several other options” She said apologetically, the poor woman looked so hurt. “Mon dieu, heavens no. That will not be necessary at all. I was simply poking fun at Luther. I am terribly sorry if I offended you. These plates are more than fine” Azazelle’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Asshole” Luther whispered with a snarky grin from behind the brim of his glass.

Once the first course was served their conversation resumed it lightheartedness. “Heard any from your friend Legion? Have you told him your good news?” She asked pushing the various vegetables around on her plate.

“I havent! I need to though he would be elated to hear it. The last letter I received from him he said he was staying at some establishment called Lady Luck inn. I hope he has stayed out of trouble. I’ve heard tale of all sorts of unsavory people frequenting that Inn”

“If that is the case why would he visit?”

“He has a affinity for trouble”

Azazelle finished off her drink. Luther was on his second glass and the one she just finished was her fifth. As she refilled her glass the aroma of the thick crimson liquid almost gave her chills. When she looked back at him he had stopped eating a was watching her. “Judging are we?” She raised a brow ”I thought we were supposed to be able to relax tonight?” She couldn’t understand why he was looking at her like that. Was there something on her face? Was she acting weird? “We are. There is no judgment at all. I am surprised is all” he replied as he resumed cutting his piece of roast. “At what?” As he was cutting she really had the opportunity to drink him in. She had noticed he was handsome but anyone with a pair of eyes would notice that. It wasn’t until the moment he looked back at her with the flames dancing in his dark eyes that she really grasped just how handsome this man was. “Your thirst. At times it seems to have more control of you than you have of it” he smirked, he knew she had been starring at him. “You think so?” She asked trying to act as normal as she could. He replied “I do” then devoted his attention fully to his plate. She waited to reply to see if he would look at her again but he didn’t instead he picked up his glass and drank it in a way that put his chiseled jawline on display. She could’ve sépare she saw him wink as he drank. This was the first time he had been this playful and she enjoyed it. “You may be right or perhaps I am searching for things to keep me occupied during this boring dinner” she smiled and flicked a pea from her plate at him.

The mood became ever more festive and their laughter grew as the two of them continued to drink. The sun was about to rise and Azazelle had a few more things she needed to take care of before she departed so she thanked Luther for the lovely time, excused herself and left him alone in the Grand Singerie. Once she was out of site Luther ran his hands through his hair and slumped down in his chair. “Shit” he exhaled as he looked down at his pants.

__________________________

I must confess I am beyond ready to lay my dead down in my own bed. My chambers at Mazière were exquisite but nothing tops the comfort of your own home and belongings. If all of my stays at these covens are going to be this long I must inquire about bringing some of my belongings with me to make the stay more comfortable.

I was going to be in this carriage for quite some time so I chose to do a bit of reflecting. The last six months had been a whirlwind. I had trained 10 new death dealers and made several new friends. I am no fool, I know most do not trust me. Who can blame them? My arrival on the scene was extremely unordinary. However I feel that my time with the Mazière family was a success. I gained the respect and favor of most in the coven I’d say.

The carriage jolted suddenly knocking my things to the floor. “Apologies Mademoiselle! I could not dodge it. I slowed to soften the blow” the coachman shouted. “Tout va bein?” “Oui, I am okay. Thank you” I replied as I gathered my things. I put them all back in my bag and chose a random letter of Malachi’s to read. Oh how I missed my dear friend.

“…….Be prepared for the soiree of your life upon your return. Romulus has not stopped talking about you since we got back from Mazière. To be truthful he is about two mentions short of making me dread hearing you name I have even gave thought to speaking with Lasko and requesting your stay at Mazière be extended. I am quite certain that would shut him up…In other news…”

I couldn’t contain my smile. The thought of Romulus following Malachi around the house pestering him tickled me. My mind traveled back to dancing with Romulus and his proposition to get to know me more. Subconsciously I reached for the ring on my necklace. I know I should let him go but I cannot seem to bring myself to do it. Would he feel the same if he were in my position. Will Romulus understand my predicament? It’s times like these when I wish my sister was here. She always knew what to say; if she didn’t mother certainly did. I sighed heavily and rested my head on the carriage wall. “Celeste please. If you can hear me please talk to me. Please sister I am begging you. Please talk to me” “Mademoiselle, did you say something to me?” the coachmen was looking back through the small window. “No sir, I was just thinking aloud” He nodded and turn back to face the path. I took the letter I had written to Celeste out of my bag and began to read it.

“My dear sister,

I hope this letter finds you well…

….I would love to hear from you.

Ta sœur,

Zaz”

I kept rereading my last sentence over and over…all this time….nothing….not a whisper or a word.

“These are pointless” I balled up the piece of parchment and hurled it out the window.

[dravid-writes]

Chapter 13: Human. In which the team hears a nice story from Whiscash.

Thorn is having that dream again. The voice has slowly gotten clearer, and Thorn has heard a few words; 'world', 'role', and of course 'Al'. But they're running out of patience. "Hey, mysterious otherworldly voice. Who are you? Or, what are you?"

".....m Gardevoir..."

"Gardevoir?"

"Ye.... I'm so....ad you ca...hear me..."

It's clearer than ever! "Please, tell me more! Who am I? What happened to me? Who is Rose?"

"You ar........" No, it's fading! Thorn tries to hold on but-

"Thorn, come on, it's important!"

Thorn groans. "Compass? What's important?"

"Whiscash is telling a story."

... Thorn pulls the covers over their head.

"I know, 10 am is pretty early for you, but Leader Beacon says it's really important!"

"Ugh, fine, whatever." Can't be more important that a healthy sleep schedule. Hopefully they can hear more from Gardevoir later.

A crowd is gathered around Whiscash's pond, everyone whispering about the 'important story'. Thorn joins in the whispering. "Hey Compass, any clue about how a story might be important?"

"I'm not sure, but last night I heard mom talking about the legend of Ninetales and the human."

The last word hits Thorn like a slap to the face. "The... the what?"

"It's-"

Whiscash clears his throat, and the crowd goes silent. "There once lived a pokemon called Ninetales. Ninetales had many tails, all of them imbued with psychic power. It was said that anyone so foolish as to touch a tail would be cured for a thousand years. But there was someone so foolish as to grab a tail: A human."

There's that word again, the word that rings through Thorn's mind. They know something about humans. They know what humans are.

"As one might expect, the human was subjected to a thousand year curse. However, just when the curse was cast, a pokemon called Gardevoir shielded the human, and sacrificed themself to absorb the curse."

Gardevoir?! That can't be a coincidence, that name showing up in an important story! Is this story related to Thorn's past?

"To Gardevoir, that human was their trusted partner. A strong bond existed between them. Taking pity on Gardevoir, Ninetales asked the human this: 'Do you wish to save Gardevoir?' they asked... But the human had already abandoned Gardevoir and fled."

Abandoned... their partner... Why does that feel familiar?

"Ninetales became disillusioned with the human, and they made this prediction: The world's balance will one day be upset."

The world's balance! Xatu said that's connected to Thorn's condition! This story IS related to Thorn's past! They have to tell Compass! But how is it related? Who is Gardevoir? And what's Thorn's role in all this?

"And this will happen... when the human is reborn as a pokemon."

Thorn's heart stops.

"... And that is how the legend ends. I'm sorry, I wanted to avoid telling stories about the end of the world at a time like this, but... well..." Whiscash moves aside as Beacon steps forward.

"I'm sure you've all heard Xatu's prophecy; the world's balance has been upset, and if it is not restored, the unthinkable will befall our world. Previously, the world's balance was a mystery, but the wording of the Ninetales legend now gives us new insight-"

The crowd erupts into shouting. "It's that human's fault!" "That rotten human is causing the disasters!" "Yeah, that selfish monster is gonna end the-"

"SILENCE!!" Beacon shouts, and the crowd goes silent. "Indeed, if this legend is true, then the human is what is upsetting the world's balance. If we can find and get rid of the human, it is likely that the balance will be restored. If anyone has any clues about the human's whereabouts, please report to me immediately."

After a few more closing words, the crowd disperses, and Team Rose heads back to base for lunch. "So Thorn, how do you feel about all this?" Compass asks.

"Oh, well, you know. It was... important."

"We finally have a solution to the world's balance! But, how do we get rid of the human if we can't find them..?"

Right. 'Get rid of.'

Life went on as normal. Over the next few days, word spread about the search for the human, but no clues were found, and the disasters continued. Thorn had more dreams, but Gardevoir's voice was suddenly back to being completely muffled. Right when Thorn needed to hear them most.

One day, Team Rose gets back from a rescue job, and Compass is getting ready for bed. "Hey Thorn? Um... You've been acting pretty strange lately. Are you okay? Are you... scared about the end of the world?"

"No, it's- Well, yeah, the imminent apocalypse is pretty terrifying, but there's something else on my mind."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"... No."

"... Okay. Just, if you need anything, you can ask me, alright? I'm your partner. You can trust me."

"... Yeah." Thorn smiles. "Thanks."

"Though... I'm worried too. Despite all we know, we're not really any closer to restoring the world's balance. It feels like the disasters are just getting worse. I just wish there was something we could do, because if we can't restore the balance... I... I don't even want to think about it..."

"... Compass, I have something to tell you."

Compass perks up and listens quietly.

"I... Earlier, I had a dream with that voice again. I didn't hear much, but they said their name was... was Gardevoir."

Compass gasps. "That's great news! If that's the same Gardevoir from the legend, then they might be able to help us find the human!"

"There's another thing. I regained a bit of my memories recently. I remembered what I was before I was a Cubone. I..." Their Thorn's partner. Thorn can trust them. "I was a human."

Compass stares at Thorn, mouth agape. They take a startled step back.

"Compass, wait-"

Compass breaks into a sprint, running out of the base and into town, toward Leader Beacon's house.

"Compass, wait!!" Thorn shouts behind them.

But they run, faster and faster, weaving through startled townsfolk, not slowing down until they slam open the door.

"Compass? What-"

"Thorn is the human!" they breathlessly shout.

"W-what?! Compass, why do you say that?"

"They told me, they told me they were a human, and that they heard Gardevoir's voice, and they were transformed and they had a partner and they were selfish and Xatu said-"

Beacon wraps Compass in a hug. "Compass, calm down. Deep breaths... This is a serious accusation. Are you certain?"

"I... I don't... It just..."

"Let's go talk to Thorn, alright?"

Beacon and Compass walk back to the base, while Compass's mind races. Is Thorn really that awful human from the legend? Is Thorn the cause of the disasters? What will Compass have to do? Will they have to... Will Thorn have to be...

They arrive at the base. Beacon peaks inside. "Cubone? Are you-" Beacon gasps.

Compass heads inside to see the base ransacked. All their supplies are gone, and Thorn is nowhere to be found. Compass walks to the table to find the only remaining trace of them; a discarded rescue team badge. "But... why would..."

Beacon frowns. "Innocent people don't run... I'm calling a town meeting. Compass, let's go to the square; we need to hear more about this from you."

Beacon takes Compass's hand and leads them into town, but Compass keeps staring at the badge. What exactly have they done? Did they make the right choice..? Did they just... Will Thorn be... They look up at the moon shining above. They... They did what they were supposed to do.

[thlover94]

Content Warning: Mature (18+)

Title: When The Morning Comes

(RPF) Summary: Tom and Rebecca enjoy a quiet morning together before Tom has to leave for a few months.(Total Fluff and a little bit of of Smut). I know it’s not perfect, but it was so fun to write. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Story:

I stir from my deep sleep as I feel Tom wrap me in his arms and he nuzzles his head into my neck.

“What time is it?” I ask in a groggy state.

“3:30, I have to leave in an hour” he whispers softly.

I take a deep breath trying to hold my tears back. Tom is heading back to work for two months and this will be the first time in 7 months that I will be alone. Its been so nice having him home and I’m going to miss him so much.

I grab his arm and pull him as close to me as I can, Tom slips his other arm behind my head so that I’m completely in his embrace. He then begins kissing my neck and shoulder, and slowly grinds his hips into my behind I can feel his hard manhood. Without saying a word, he releases my hand and pulls down my pajama pants just enough that he can slip in. He then grabs my leg and placed it on top of his hips which allows me to be open to him. Once he’s satisfied at my position, he grabs his manhood and slowly enters my awaiting core. I moan a the beautifully slow sensation. Once’s he’s seated deep inside me he doesn’t move, but continues to kiss and suck on my neck. “Why aren’t you moving” I gasp.

“I want this to last. Just feel me baby, all of me.” He groans between kisses.

I close my eyes and allow him worship my body. His hands slide down my body, squeezing my tits and teasing my nipple along his way down. He runs his hand across my belly and across my public bone. I want him to move so bad.

“Honey…” I moan

“Hmmm” he mumbles

“I want you to fuck me” I grunt, and move my hips back into him, Tom grabs me to slow me down, my core is already twitching at the anticipation of my pending orgasm.

“Slowly baby,” he says, and begins matching my slow pace. Our bedroom is filled with our soft moans as we continue to grind into each other. His hand leaves my side and travels to my clit, I quickly grab his arm to grip onto something as he begins playing with my aching bean. My orgasm is getting closer and closer.

“Fuck, Tom.” I gasp

“Cum for me baby…” he groans and his thrusts become a little faster. I know he’s in the edge. I thrust back onto him trying to match his pace. Before I know it both of our orgasm release ar the same time. After a moment, Tom’s softening cock slips out of me and I turn around to face him still wrapped in his arms. I caress his face, my tears begin to fall.

“Oh sweetie” he whimpers as he pulls me to him, kissing the top of my head. After a moment of crying I pull away whipping my face.

“Come on let’s get you ready to go” I sniffle.

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re alright” He whispers

“I’m ok, I promise” I lean in and kiss his lips.

“Crying doesn’t seem like you’re alright” he gives me a worried look.

“I’m just going to miss you that’s all. It’s been a while since you’ve left.”

“You know you can always come with me”

“Tom you’ll be filming most of the day and I would be trapped in the trailer. I’m better off here. I promise I’m ok”

He shakes his head slightly before leaning over to kiss me likes he’s done thousands of times. After a brief make out session, he decides to get out of bed. I lay there watching him as he gets into the shower. The water cascading down his spectacular muscles, makes my pussy twitch. It’s going to be a long few months… a little while later, his phone goes off with the notifications that his car has arrived. We make the dreaded walk downstairs, the rain is pouring, almost as if the clouds knew how my heart feels.

“I‘ll call you when my plane lands” he says as he gives me a tight hug and a kiss on the lips.

“I’ll be waiting. Be safe, I love you” I smile and hug him tighter. He picks up his luggage and runs towards the car. I stand in the doorway watching as the car pulls away, but just as it leaves, it comes to a quick stop and the door opens, Tom comes running back towards me.

“What are you doing” I yell through the downpour

“One more” he laughs and grabs me in his arms kissing me with such passion. We make out for a quick moment before I break away.

“You need to go before you miss your plane. Love you!” I giggle.

“Love you so much” he winks and runs back to the car, this time it drives off. I walk back in and shut the door, and make the long walk back up the stairs. I change my wet pajamas, to one of Tom’s shirts. I then flop back in bed cuddling into his pillow savoring his smell, I close my eyes and drift back to sleep.

[tf-guru]

Basic transformation part 2, a transformation story featuring woman -> pig, woman -> fuck plant, man -> demon, and man -> troll MC

Mckenna woke up inside of a beauty salon. Someone asked a question as she came back to reality. She was standing at the counter as the person repeated the question

"So is a full makeover okay?"

Mckenna looked up and at the questioner. The lady behind the desk had a large beehive and a black shirt with a black apron hanging down. Mckenna gathered her thoughts slowly then she asked

"How did I get here?" The neon lights ahead buzzed and the lady laughed

"Through the front door silly, now let's get started." She opened the small gate to the actual salon area and beckoned for Mckenna to come inside. Putting away her worrys Mckenna walked in as the lady continued

"Alright, lets start with your nails." The two lady's sat down at a desk as the lady unpacked her nail kit and introduced herself

"Im Paula, by the way. What's your name?"

"Mckenna" she replied putting her hand on the desk. Paula selected a color and turned around to show it to her

"Mckenna, that's a pretty name. How's this color?" The polish was a dark shade of green and McKenna nodded her head. Paula began to paint her nails and asked

"So, you gonna be in town long or what?"

"Excuse me? What do you mean by that?"

"Honey, its a small town. Everyone knows everybody and since I don't know you you must not be from around here."

"Not to be a bother but what town would that be?"

"Alterbourough, Michigan. Its so small I'd doubt you'd find it on a map."

Mckenna then thought,

'So thats the explanation, I must have blacked out or something on the way to Michigan and then decided to go get a makeover.' She then responded to Paula

"No, were just passing through. My friends and I are heading up to a cabin for vacation." Mckenna's hand sort of felt strange, almost numb. She began to look at it when Paula hit her with another question

"Do you have a boyfriend?" A mental image of Derrick appeared in her mind. She looked at his face but then her eyes drifted down to his trousers. She imagined sucking his cock and how amazing it would feel. She slipped into a lust endured haze and didn't even notice as the skin around her hand began to take a greenish hue.

She finally snapped out of it when she felt the seat get a little moist due to her leaking pussy. Paula had her stand up and head over to the hair styling station. Mckenna didn't think anything of her green arm, only of sucking Derricks cock when she would get home. Paula sat her down and begun to style her hair. Subconsciously Mckenna reached down under her skirt and started to rub her pussy that was now munching at her panties.

Paula asked another question

"So what do you like most about your boyfriend?"

"Oh he's nice but the thing I love most is his big throbbing cock." She didn't know why she was being so upfront with this stranger but as soon as she mentioned Derricks cock Mckenna slipped a finger under her panties and into her pussy. The green had spread to her breasts causing them to not only turn green but to fill out more as well. Soon, half her body was fully green. Mckenna began to slink deeper and deeper into the lust.

Meanwhile...

Hailey entered the strange area and remarked simply on its magnitude

"Holy shit." She walked into the main room and then looked to find two hallways, one was dark and the other featured overhead led lights. Within the hallway was many doors spaced evenly. As she got closer she strained her ears and could hear...

Mckenna! She couldnt make out any distinct words but she new it was her friend.

Mckenna had fully ripped off her soaked panties and was masturbating furiously. Paula stood and watched the poor girl as Paula herself began a transformation. Her breasts receded into normal human nipples, she lost her hourglass frame but gained muscle in return. Soon she was a tall, muscular, man. Paul saw Mckennas lips puff up into a soft blanket perfectly suited for sucking cock.

Paul approached and dropped his pants. Upon seeing his large member Mckenna dazily said

"Must... suck" she closed her eyes and opened her mouth as Paul slid a finger into her mouth

"Not yet my little fuckplant, not yet." Mckenna looked up at him as...

Hailey bursted in through the back door of the salon. She saw her friend, now fully tinted green and called out

"Mckenna! Snap out of it! Don't give in to the temptation!"

Mckenna looked over and said

"What- do you- mean temptations? Wait, why are you here and when did you get so pudgy?" As soon as she finished speaking Mckenna refocused back in to Paul.

"This isn't you! You must resist!"

"Must... resist... must suck! Im a good fuck-" Mckenna was cut off by Paul shoving his penis in her mouth. Hailey tried to run to her but some sort of energy was keeping her back.

"Mckenna! Look at what your doing! Look at yourself! See past the- the illusion!" Mckenna kept sucking as her skin faded to a darker shade of green. Her breast grew even larger but she as a whole began to shrink. Her mouth pressed forwards into a long dick-sucking chamber as her fingers merged into long leaves. As she sucked her thoughts became overpowered by one simple thought

"Must... suck" Paul reached bellow her chair and grabbed a pot. He then lifted Mckenna up and sat her in the pot. She continued to mindlessly suck as she settled into the pot. When her transformation was complete Paul pulled away with Mckenna still suckimg at the air. Paul gave one look at Hailey before running out the front of the salon.

Finally, the force field dropped and Hailey headed towards her friend. She went to grab her friends pot when Mckenna latched on to Hailey's finger and started to suck.

It felt like she was having twenty orgasms at once and Hailey almost fell to the floor due to it. As Mckenna sucked Hailey's previously fought off changes began to come back. Her nose flared up and extended into a pigs snout, her ears grew large and drooped over, and she omce again gained more weight. Looking up past her snout, Hailey saw Mckenna sucking and realized what was happening. She quickly pulled away and the changes regressed until she was back to her chubby self.

Looking where Paul had gotten the pot from Hailey also found a collection of sex toys. Grabbing one she shoved it in Mckenna's agape, drooling, dick craving mouth. She then looked a the sucking fuck plant and said

"Look, I don't know if your still in there Mckenna but we have to find the boys so they don't become creatures like us. Alright, lets go." Hailey grabbed Mckenna by the pot and carried her outside the salon.

Derrick awoke in a small, simple room. Not unlike the dorms back at college. He was chained to the post of a bed with his hands behind his back.

"Hello? Anybody here? Help?" Then, as if answering his prayers Derrick heard a popping noise and then a tall brown skinned man wearing a fancy black suit approached him. Perhaps the most interesting piece was the mans legs. Bellow his waist were two large goat thighs, covered in a thick dark brown fur before finally being completed with two goat hoaves and a tail to boot.

"My my my. Seems like you've gotten yourself into a predicament havent you Derrick."

"How do you know my name? What is this place? Why am I here? Who ar-" the mysterious man cut him off

"Shhh shh shh shh shh. Ill go over your questions one at a time. Starting with introductions. I am Pan a pretty famous satyr, though those Greeks myths were never quite right. Why don't you stand up and shake my hand?"

"I am uh chained to the floor."

"Oh yes! I'm sorry. Off those go." With a wave of his hand Pan made the chains disappear.

"Now to address some of your other questions" Pam continued "The place you're in is my home. Why are you here? Well recently one of my many servants well... let's just say there's a position in my organization and I need someone to fill it. I believe that someone may be you."

Derrick thought about it for a moment as he thought back to the events from before he woke up here.

"Wait. Where are the girls?" He questioned, to which Pan responded

"Oh yes your friends are getting... acquainted with the place. But for you you shouldn't need to worry about them anymore. This is what matters Derrick! Our deal would be simple. I give you the gift of immortality, God like powers, all the amenities my home has to offer, yadda yadda yadda. All I ask in return is just eternal patronage, really a small price to pay."

"I dont think I could do that. I-I have a girlfriend I have a life!"

"Oh tish, why go about your boring human life and eventually die when you could join me and rise above the rest! You could see worlds you never thought you would! Learn things you never thought possible! Magic! Things go way deeper than that puddle you call human existence, trust me. All you have to be willing to do is take it for yourself!"

Derrick was deep in thought for a moment before looking up.

"I agree. On one condition."

"Oh?"

"Mckenna gets to join me. You make her immortal and I will join you."

"Well... hmmm. Its highly unnatural but, what the heck. Deal granted!" The two shook hands and Derrick started to feel strange. Like some sort of energy growing inside him and it wasn't just his penis slowly creeping down his leg.

"Whats going on!?"

"Oh fear not, your bodies just getting acclimated to immortality."

Derrick had always been a relaxed guy when it came to exercise but now it looked like he always had been. His normally slightly flabby stomach was now home to a chisled set of abs. His arms and legs became more toned and muscular. When he felt the changes stop he inspected himself, already glad he made the deal.

But then he felt another change. He undid his tightening pants only to see thick fur, akin to Pan's starting to coat his own legs.

"This wasn't part of the deal!"

"Oh but yes it was, specifically under God like powers."

Derrick was about to offer rebuttal when he felt his legs burst through his jeans. The fur now covered his legs and got to his feet. His toes begun to fuse together in cloven hooves. His penis grew large and flared at the tip, turning into a fully ursine penis. He gripped it and almost immediately cummed as the changes easily brought him to climax. To top it all off Derrick could now feel a tail spiral around his furry legs. He leaned on the bedframe for a moment to catch his breath before finally saying

"Alright, now let me see my girlfriend"

Pan tugged at his collar and begun to explain

"Well it appears your girlfriend well. She did something she wasn't supposed to and well. Let me just bring her in" he waved his hand and McKenna the fuck plant was now on the table next to the bed.

She may have been completely changed into a constantly horny, sucking creature but Derrick could tell it was Mckenna.

"What did you do to her you son of a bitch!" Pan waved his hand and a stack of books appeared next to Mckenna.

"Look Derrick, here's what you can do. In one of these books there's probably a spell to reverse a transformation like that. You familiarize yourself with them and let me know if you need help. Toodles!" And with that final utterance of toodles, Pan was gone.

"Alright babe I'm going to- uhah." While Derrick was busy being mad at Pan Mckenna had found Derrick thick throbbing member and was now quickly sucking.

One second Hailey was carrying her friend turned fuck plant and the next she wasn't. She briefly stopped to look around and called out

"Mckenna!?" She stopped for a moment to listen for Mckennas sucking noises but heard nothing. She them decided she had no time to waste and kept looking down the long hallways filled with doors, trying to listen for her boyfriend.

Around five minutes later she approached a long carpeted hallway when she saw him, joe! He was lying down in a cot in what appeared to be a strange cave. He looked strange, he was covered in dirt and his clothes were all torn. She went to open the door when she felt a hand on her arm.

"I personally wouldn't recommend that young lady." She reeled back in shock at the half man half goat in a fancy suit before her.

"Who-who are you?"

"Im Pan, the famous diety of Greek fame, but that's not important. Essentially I run this place. All the things you've seen, your friend, the farmer, the farm itself. Its all ran by me. And let me say I am pleasantly surprised you managed to resist your changes. Well, mostly." He poked the layer of fat still surrounding Haileys stomach.

"What in the hell is wrong with you! Let me go!"

"Not quite yet. Hailey I'm offering you a deal. Granted how impressed I am with you it would be unfit to simply keep you here without a choice. Here is the choice. You go through that door" he gestures behind him as a glowing door appears. "And you get out of here scott free. Don't worry about the repercussions of your friends going missing I can have that taken care of. Maybe even your boyfriend over there will pass the test and you two can ride off into the sunset. But, you go rush to your boyfriend now and there's no going back. Trust me, there's no way out. Make the smart choice."

"Sometimes... the smart choice isn't the best choice. Sometimes you have to do what's right."

"And to think I had respect for you" Pan dissappeared into a puff of smoke as the glowing door closed. She went over and tried to open the door to the cave but it wouldn't budge.

"This isn't fair Pan!" No response. Hailey watched as her boyfriend awoke and she banged on the glass. He made no reaction to it. She watched as a bearded old man came in and said something to Joe. She continued to bang on the glass.

Joe awoke, alone. He looked around to try and interpret his surroundings but all he saw was an empty cave with an opening to one end. Strewn around him was various medicinal items like herbs, mortar and pestle, bandages, ect. As he finally realized he was super dirty and disheveled a man hobbled into the room and said

"Its nice to see you Joe, how are you feeling?"

"What? Where am I? Who are you?"

"Ah I see, in one of your moods again. Joe, you've been here two months. I'm Jack Hewitt. I've taken care of you ever since the crash."

"What crash?"

"Oh yes, you and what I assume were your friends were driving along the road near here and you hit a tree. I saw the whole thing and tried to rescue all of you. I'm afraid your friends are dead Joe."

"What? It can't be! I thought we had run out of gas and-and"

"Here, drink up. It'll help you concentrate." Jack handed Joe a small vial which he cautiously drank. Almost immediately what blurry recollection he had of them running out of gas shifted to him being dragged from the burning car by Jack. He then remembered snippets of being carried to a small wooded camp and being placed in the cave.

He watched as Jack smashed up some herb in the morter and pestle before offering it the Joe.

"This is the ukamimus herb, wakes you up." Joe took this and instinctively chewed on it slowly.

"If you need anything Joe, don't be afraid to ask." With that, Jack left Joe alone in the cave. Joe thought about his friends. Derrick, Mckenna, Hailey. He thought more about Hailey, and his sorrow turned to arousal with his penis growing in his pants.

Checking that Jack wasn't near Joe took off his riped jeans and touched his throbbing member. He thought of Hailey as he rubbed his cock. Her round supple breasts, her cute brown hair, her ability to eat a lot of food.

He stopped for a moment. Why had he thought something like that? He dismissed it and continued. As he approached orgasm he thought more about her. Her scent. He remembered one time when she came home after a jog and was all sweaty and then they had sex. He focused in on her sweat and how much he liked it. As he was lost in this haze he missed his stomach gain weight. Then he orgasmed, as he did so his balls grew and his penis became even longer.

He stood up, still fully erect and nude and realized he was now at least a foot taller.

"What the? Eh, must have grew in sleep." He then heard his stomach growl so he headed out of the cave almost hitting his head on the ten foot high opening. Almost as if he read his mind Jack was cooking a goat on a skewer over a camp fire.

"Im hunger." He said aloud, not addressing his nudity. Jack said nothing and watched Joe grab a leg off the goat and eating it to the bone. As he ate he gained even more weight until he was sitting around four hundred pounds.

When he was finished he walked back to his cave. The bottom part of his face began to jut out and two of his bottom teeth grew put into protruding tusks.

Going to jerk off again he looked down and felt something was wrong but couldn't quite place it.

"Me... fat? I no fat." Any harder words escaped him as the usually smart Joe searched for words he didn't know. He inhaled his musk.

"I big stinky troll. But I human? I human! Or... I fat troll?" He scratched his head as he tried to figure out the answer.

"I horny troll." With that he jerked off one more time and official crossed the point of no return. At that very moment a door that was previously closed swung open behind him.

"Joe!" The massive troll turned around to see his... his... he couldn't find the word for it. After settling on mate he said

"Hay Hay? Why you here?"

"Im here to get you out. You have to fight the transformation!"

"Tran-tran... me no change. I'm a big stinky dumb troll." Hailey then tried to explain what was happening but Joe wasn't listening. He instead was focused on Haileys breasts and how much he wanted her to suck his dick. A trickle of drool fell from his mouth as he walked towards her, his fat jiggling with every step.

"Joe? Joe!?" He grabbed her and brought her towards his large sweaty penis. She tried to pull away but he was too strong. His penis entered her mouth and the taste of sweat and the smell of musk engulfed her.

'Must resist!' She thought as the sweat covered penis touched the back of her throat. But the smell of his musk soon became too much and she fully gave herself to him.

She regained weight and lost her even slightly thin figure. Her nose flared up and extended outwards into a piggy snout. As her ears grew and flopped over Joe finally came unleashing his salty load into her mouth. He fell back in ecstasy as she detached and fell onto her side. Her eyes lost some of her human blue in exchange for a pigs dull brown. A small tail curled from her backside as her hands and feet merged into simple trotters. Her transformation finished as she rounded out into a barrel shaped body. She snorted and looked up

Pan had entered the room and put a hoof on the pigs back. She looked up at him cluelessly with dull brown eyes. Pan sighed and began to lead her back to the farm.

Epiloge

Joe awoke like most days, horny. Almost two actual months had passed since he had been transformed but Joe did not know or care. He simply woke up, ate a leg off the goat that magically appeared every morning and masturbated. Jack had long gone leaving Joe alone in a small forested area. He wasn't sad or bored. He was content with his simple life of eating, jerking off, and sleeping. But one day that all changed when a girl named Alda had stumbled through the forrest, half human half troll but changing rapidly. By the time they finished having sex she was fully a four hundred pound troll. Now his days consited of eating goat with Alda, having sex with Alda, talking to Alda (which wasn't anything complex given their limited vocabulary), and sleeping with his arms around Alda. And Joe, well. He finally felt happy.

After she had been taken back to the farm Hailey had adapted quickly. Having the mind of a pig made it easy. She had very blurry memories of her friends but otherwise she was like any other sow. She got to eat slop, mud bathe, and have sex with boars. It was nice. Around two months after she had arrived at the farm she was visited by Pan. "Hailey?" She perked up without knowing why and trotted over to the man she remembered brought her here. "Look, I've given it thought and I'd like to grant you an opportunity." She looked at him dumbly and snorted. "Oh, right" he said and waived his hand. Suddenly all of Haileys intelect had returned and memories flooded back. She looked down at her fat quadrupled form and snorted in panic. "Shhh shhh shhh." He ran his hand down her back. She hated how much this calmed her. "Like I said I have an opportunity for you. You can either remain a dumb sow for the rest of eternity or you could become one of my actors. Youd live a good life shape-shifting into various forms to trick people into changing into creatures. I don't usually do this but I was thinking about how well you did in your test even if you did slip up there at the end." She considered her options in her head. As a sow she didn't even realize what she was missing but now that she could think she decided that whatever it took, she would be human again. A minute later Hailey stood up and Pan outstretched his hand "Welcome aboard!"

"Retrindoso!" Derrick let out another spell directed at his potted girlfriend and then sighed at the lack of effect. He had been trying for two months to turn his girlfriend back. Hsi spacious room was filled with books and little notes but still all he had managed to do was make her boobs bigger.The spell he tried was intended to make someone young again so he figured if she was human when she was young she would be human again. Sadly it didnt work. He looked at another spell and put his finger in her mouth and she quickly sucked on it. "Greendeich!" He yelled and waited to see if anything happened. As nothing did he looked for another spell when... Mckennas leaves began to sperate into distinct fingers and her roots spread out into toes. She stood up an eyed Derrick whose attention was still on the book. Her dick sucking mouth receded into a normal human one. She then said "babe?" Derrick spun around in shock. His girlfriend was still completely green and covered in vines but she was humanoid! "Mckenna?!" Mckenna jumped at him and said "I wanna fuck you so bad!" As she began to go down on him Derrick thought 'Hey, its a start!'

[callejxro]

xiii. si vivir sin ti es...

Chess stroked his hair back, a scowl on his face. Annoyed, read the most visible emotion on his face. Though not the only emotion.

What a pain…, he thought, looking upon the other.

Wasn’t so tall, he was probably a couple inches shorter than the werewolf. He wore a black suit, one that would have been almost stereotypical in the sorts of programs that were all about top secret FBI, CIA agents and something to do with aliens. The strangest thing would have been how the man poised himself in such a professional stance when his face was rather boyish, making him look like a kid playing dress-up more than anything. It would have been the strangest thing, had it not been for his hair–the color of it, to be more precise. Chess thought to comment on it.

“Nice hair. Did you dye it yourself?” A smile, one that the more observant person would notice was more nervous than was usual for the werewolf.

“…” The other man simply stared, his face not betraying any emotions. After a while, he answered simply, “No. It’s natural.”

“Natural, you say?! Interesting. Y’know, in old Egyptian myths, blue hair was supposed to be something sacred. Also, Buddha is said to have blue hair. Homer used to write that characters who went through serious emotional turmoil had their hair turn blue,” at this, the other man’s hand twitched slightly, Chess took mental note of the action, “and some gods were depicted with blue hair. It was a sign of divinity.” Chess clicked his tongue a few times in thought. “Does that make you a god?” he jokingly asked.

“I’m not here to talk,” responded the other man. That was true--the first action the other man had taken was to try bashing his head, but he’d dodged in time. The other man was here for a fight. Chess had encountered countless others who’d tried to do the same, and he’d offed every single one who tried without the slightest hesitation, but this man…this man unnerved him deeply.

“Then...what are you here for?” He swallowed--unease finally showing itself.

“I’m here to kill you,” said plainly, without any hint of an emotion behind it all. It’s as if he was only talking business.

“Hah! Why? I’ve done nothing bad to you, have I? I don’t have beef with you, so fu–”

“I was hired to do this.” The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a chocolate kiss, to the werewolf’s confusion. He quickly ate it, his eyes still fixed on him. He spoke after he finished, “You’ve been a target for the local authorities claiming that you were out massacring people. A monster who only knows slaughter, no one able to do you in, or something to that effect.” The emotionless tone the man spoke in infuriated Chess.

“Is that it? You’re just here for a bounty? And you’re talking to me about how I’m some killer? I was hired for those kills, just like you are now! I only killed criminals, even! I made sure they were all criminals! I’m not the bad guy!” Chess’ eyes widened in offended anger, his fists were balled into white-knuckled fists.

“To yourself. To someone else, you very well are,” was the man’s response. The way he spoke that line, it felt like there was a touch of regret in it. “…There’s no use trying to justify murder. The moment you take a life is the moment you have committed a grave atrocity.” Chess snarled. Was that a pun? “The moment you take a life is also the moment you resign that you are willing to die, as well. You can say it’s for an end, but that is a mean that will never be justified. Even if the end is utopia, the weight stays within you.” The man finished.

“Uh-huh…” Chess was impressed that the man was actually capable of saying so many words consecutively. “So are you here to kill me or wax philosophical? Too bad for you, I’m not letting you. I’ve got some shit I need to do first, so we’re going to have to reschedule. No sad little human will--”

“I’m not human.” A solid interruption. Not a single bit of trepidation in the statement. So strongly said, it stopped a wide-eyed Chess. “You asked if I was a god. The truth is I’m not. Far from it. ...But I’ve been given names that center around similar figures. One of them was ‘Calaca’, shortened from ‘Calavera’.”

It took Chess no less than a second to realize what that meant. In that one second, his brash anger was washed away in a sea of desperation that flooded his soul. His fingers shook, and his arms unconsciously began their transformation. The pit of his stomach knotted up. “Th-Then you’re…”

“Tell me…” The man spoke out again suddenly, causing Chess to flinch. “How many times should an angel fall?”

At those words, Chess lunged forward. He tried to get the upper hand through surprise, but the swipe of his right arm was countered so easily. Calaca had grabbed his right arm and threw him down to the ground by the throat, twisting his right arm in a hold, the sound of bone breaking was evident. Chess howled in pain, struggling to jump back up.

Calaca simply stood in place watching him. Hazel eyes that gleamed so beautiful in the light. A face that looked so lovely, so innocent. There was a gentle beauty in his gaze, an understanding pain that glowed a reflected moonlight. Chess almost hesitated, but only almost.

“Uooooooooooooooooooooomu!” He let out a roar, and quickly instinct drove him to a response to fight. Calaca was caught off guard, and quickly did Chess’ left hand swing and claws dug and teeth sunk into every bit of flesh it could, a frantic murdering mess. He no longer had anything in mind other than ‘kill’.

‘This scent! This smell of marigold!’ he thought, ‘This being is the evil one! Kill kill kill! I’ll stop his scent!’ His hand dug deeply into Calaca’s throat, suddenly slamming the man into the ground. Blood had sprayed everywhere, there were clawing marks in the walls surrounding them. 

With heavy breaths, Chess soon succumbed to the exhaustion, his form returned to fully human. His chest rose and fell rapidly, erratically. 

“Hah… hah… hah… See? Just a human…” An uneven smile as he attempted to stand up to his full height. The fracture in his right arm finally healed--the adrenaline numbing the pain a good bit. He collapsed to sitting on the ground, his breathing slowly returning to a normal pace.

“So you really were a werewolf? They really exist?”

Chess froze. It was as if all the sensation of burning excursion were replaced by an icy chill, stifling all feeling of relief. He looked up to see the man who just seconds ago should have been killed, yet every single injury Chess had inflicted had practically disappeared, and he stood there like nothing had happened.

“Ha… Haha…” When faced with a situation such as this, Chess always remembered the sight of that full moon grinning down at him. A full moon like a smiling skull. All he could do in those situations was laugh at the complete desolation that enveloped his being. “Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Ahhh! Come on, man! Just what the fuck are you?”

Calaca threw a punch, aiming straight for Chess’ head. Chess jumped away in time, the man’s fist slamming against a wall instead. The entire brick wall crumbled away like paper. Chess realized: now was the moment to run away. So he fled, and he was chased.

Somehow, the other man kept up even as Chess was in the middle of transformation. Into the woods he went, hoping to lose him. No such luck. No matter where he turned, no matter how high he climbed or how far he thought he’d distanced himself, the man always appeared next to him a moment after.

The predator soon began to lose hope, and in a moment of hesitation, the hunter was easily able to crush him.

A small struggle commenced, one where Calaca easily countered every single hit Chess tried to hit him with, being able to toss him around so easily. A swept leg, a twisted arm, a broken clavicle, a bruised rib. Every single hit carried with it a weight that felt like a sledgehammer was brought down on his body.

The man landed a fist to his head, causing Chess to reel back. Another hit to the same spot, and he howled in desperate pain. A hit to his jaw next, and the werewolf bit his own tongue. Another cry of pain, and he tripped backwards.

He could taste oxidation, his head spinning and breaking. He tripped away, backing off as far as he could until disorientation rooted him to the same spot. His head burned in a swimming nausea, and bile rushed from his stomach out. He didn’t realize what had happened.

Between the pain, he realized that a part of his skull had been caved in. Chess looked around at the spinning world surrounding him, until his eyes set upon a clearing blooming of flowers. He had wandered through the pain here.

“Aaaa… A…… Ar………Am.......Ah................” Chess tried to keep himself upright, and  Calaca paused to watch him try. Was he hoping to give him a fair chance? Foolish. Foolish. Blood… Blood. Is that mine? Mine. Mine. Aaaaaah, fuck. Chess found he was losing his mind.

“Uuuu…. Uuuuuuuu…” He tried to stand straight, but his head burned. A cold feeling of hell.

“…nder……” He twitched between two forms, fading as he remained human.

“U…nder the harvest moon…” Chess began to recite, and Calaca stood still, looking puzzled.

“Wheeen the soft si…lver… Drip…s shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the gray…mocker, Comes and whispers to you Aaaas a beautiful friend Who remembers.”

He tripped and fell to his knee, his strength completely drained. Calaca approached closer, peering down at him.

“Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches…you With a thousand memories, AaAaaAnd asks you…”

“Beautiful, unanswerable questions,” Calaca finished the sonnet. He stared at Chess, whose breathing was becoming uneven and blood spilling from his mouth. “Under the harvest moon. Sandburg. Right?”

“Yes…” He ran his hand through his hair, and looked at his palm to see blood streaking paler skin. “You’re...pretty cute, ac...tually.... I… regret… not knowing you some different way…” His hand twitched up, and he motioned for Calaca to help him stand from where he was kneeling. Calaca didn’t do so.

“…Funny. All I wanted…was…not to be alone and… I didn’t want to at first…kill… But when I...I hurt him...hurt her...I realized it...was too late...I couldn’t go back...” Calaca’s gaze fell, and something clicked. The werewolf had been crying. Chess tried to continue speaking through ragged, weak breaths. “Just a monster. To humans…want…to live…please…”

“I can’t grant that wish.” Calaca’s eyes turned to the flowers surrounding them. Amaranths. They’re not supposed to grow in such a low place. “I can’t do anything to help you, after all. It’s almost a curse. I can almost sympathize with you, even though I’m here to kill you. All kinds of funny, isn’t it?” A soft, gentle smile formed on Calaca’s lips, and Chess gasped out. He really was beautiful. 

“I’m sorry.” Calaca’s smile faded away. Chess’ heart broke.

Finally, his legs gave out and he fell on his back. His breathing fell to a crawling pace, his heart’s thumping only weakened to a soft drum. “You know…all I wanted…was a home to return to…after long…weary…... Someone to.........” A pause. “I wanted...to be an engineer. What’s your name…?”

“…I don’t know. But I had a dream to own a ship model store. I understand not being able to go back. Within our natures, we change. You must be tired.” Calaca tried to give a comforting smile once more, but it fell just short.

“I want...to return...” Chess tried to articulate a lifetime’s feeling of loss and regret, but it fell just short.

Blue hair swept in the wind as the man kneeled down next to Chess, a knife in his hand. Calaca recited to Chess, barely above a whisper:

“Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth, - And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy?”

As his world began to grow dark, Chess smiled once more. “To The Moon. Shelley… I always…hated that one. Afraid of it…didn’t know why…

“But…

“Now…”

With the twist of the knife, everything went black.

[symboloflegacy-blog]

What Makes Us Stronger Ch. 3: with pride in his eyes

next installment of my fanfic. This is where the plot begins to thicken:o. 

http://ar Also posted on AO3

Not too far from the Agreste Manor, Nino and Alya patrolled the streets of Paris under the disguise of their super heroes masks, Jade Turtle and Vixen. After Chat’s death, they had agreed, along with Chloe, better known as Queen Bee, to give Mari a break, to heal -if that’s even possible- until she felt ready to return to their patrols. With Hawkmoth’s sudden disappearance, they thought things would get back to normal.

“Have you talked to Ladybug?” Jade Turtle asked as he put his feet on the ground to rest for a moment after almost half an hour of patrolling. “She doesn’t answer my calls nor my messages. Even Sabine is concerned about her sanity… It’s been a week,” Vixen whispered the last bit of her sentence, aware of how it might sound. Yes, it might have been a week, but they weren’t there, they arrived at the scene just to witness a broken Lady holding the lifeless body of her partner.

“I know, babe, but they were together for years. She saw him dying, and couldn’t heal him.” Jade Turtle pulled the Vixen into a hug, resting his chin above her head, feeling the stress leaving her body. “I can’t believe my boy is gone for good,” he said against her hair, as an uncomfortable knot formed in his throat. “I was supposed to be there, you know, by his side, but instead.-”

“Please, don’t say it,” Vixen cut him off, turning around to hug him back, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” The confession brought something like a sad smile to the hero’s lips, shaking his head, he lifted her by the chin to make her look at him. “Don’t worry, babe, I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I promised my boy to look after you.”

“Yeah? And what brought up that?” She asked him, but was silenced by a soft press of his lips against hers, as he remembered the small, black box that was safely hidden between his clothes. The perfect engagement ring rested there, and no other but Adrien had been the one to help him choosing it.

Their moment was harshly broken by Jade Turtle, whose ability to sense an incoming threat caused him to change his posture, retracting from Vixen and pulling her along to hide behind the nearest wall.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned him with an odd look, used by now to him and his weird skills, but annoyed nevertheless, that he had to break their atmosphere.

“Sshhh. Something is coming. It’s not an akuma, and certainly not Hawkmoth, but it’s definitely here, watching us.” The hero looked at his partner and found her taking a defensive stance, very much like a fox would do while feeling threatened. The pointy ears in her head twitched, and she started going to the opposite side of the roof. “It’s coming this way,” she alerted the Turtle, and in sync, both jumped down and into an alley, as a purplish light almost blinded them. And then, before their eyes, a silhouette appeared, menacing.

The figure smirked at them, almost wild, but it didn’t attempt to hurt them, instead, it ran away, heading towards the place it had known for all its life. The Agreste Manor.

—-

Marinette released her transformation and stood by the window. Gabriel kept staring at her until he found his voice again. “I’m certain that you know yours and the Black Cat miraculous are the most powerful jewels, and combined, they grant a power very god-like. They balance one another, the power of life and destruction. But when they’re mixed with a different miraculous, the balance is lost and it can potentially trigger the worst side of them.” Gabriel cleared his throat and waited for Marinette to say something, but was met with only a silent nod. “When the Moth miraculous is destined for evil purposes, the only other miraculous that can potentially purify it it’s yours.” That brought a frown to her lips, but immediately, Gabriel raised his hand as a sign that he wasn’t done talking yet.

“But if the Moth brooch were combined with the Black Cat ring, the holder would lost their mind, and they would be consumed by rage and anger and the purity of their heart would be suppressed by their hate.”

She tried to understand what he was saying. How could this information bring his son back? “But you wanted mine and Adrien’s miraculous.”

“I know, Marinette, but there’s something else. The holders cannot be akumatized, either for good or evil while transformed. That doesn’t mean their stones can’t be possessed by an akuma while they aren’t in use, and the negative or positive effect would be activated when they get in contact with their owner. And if the holder and the kwamii spent as much time as Nooroo and Plagg did with me and Adrien, this combination can potentially….” He trailed off, setting his gaze on Marinette, gauging her reaction. She stared at him, impatient, but he could notice that the gears of her head were turning. “… can potentially reanimate their holder’s heart.”

Marinette stared at Gabriel in shock, and he approached her slowly, without the intention of startling her. “A moth walks in the dark and is driven by the light. And the bad luck of a cat means that they have to come back only to die again. If I’m correct, if the magic works, our Adrien will return to us.” His tone took a weird optimistic tone that made her stomach hurt. “B-but he could be a monster.” She snapped at the old man, feeling the anger bubbling up again.

“What did you do with your miraculous?” Marinette didn’t want to know the answer, because she remembered that day. They had buried Adrien with his, assured by Master Fu that he could make another copy of the ring and call back Plagg if needed. But she also remembered the image of Gabriel standing by the coffin, and hiding something inside Adrien’s jacket.

“You need to understand that I couldn’t live with the guilt, Marinette. If the magic works, he will be with us, but I couldn’t just do nothing.” He sounded so sincere that it almost broke her heart, but what he didn’t seem to see was that he had practically condemned his own son.

“You did enough as Hawkmoth, Gabriel. You can’t play God and decide who lives and who doesn’t. That’s selfish and .-”

The power of the house turned off, and the only light that illuminated the office came from the chimney. “Stay here. I’ll see what caused the blackout.” Marinette was about to protest when the window that she had used to get inside crashed into tiny pieces of glass. Instinctively, she moved aside and covered her face, but was grabbed by something. Or better said, someone.

“Where do you think you’re going, Princess?” A voice asked, a voice that she got to know too well over the past years. Marinette couldn’t describe what she felt. A wave of terror and panic invaded her body as she stared at two purplish orbits that were staring back at her. In the darkness, she could make out the lines of his face. He was Adrien, but he wasn’t her partner. Something else had taken his place.

She pulled back to try to break his hold, but he tightened his hold, drawing blood from where he had dug his claws in her wrist. Terrified, Marinette decided to call her transformation, but seeming to read her mind, Adrien pulled her into an embrace of sorts, sneaking an arm to hold her by the waist and using his other hand to cover her mouth, agile and quick as a cat would corner its prey.

“Easy now, Princess. I came back for you. Ladybug can wait.” He purred in her ear, gaining a shiver from her. She struggled against him, and the hand on her waist moved up to her neck. For the first time in her life, Marinette was scared of him, of Adrien and as he put pressure over her pulse, and the lack of oxygen brought blackness to her vision, she wondered if perhaps, he had come back to kill her.

Gabriel returned to the office and found them in the edge of the balcony. With Adrien about to jump down and an unconscious Marinette in his arms. Adrien looked over his shoulder and winked as he jumped off. Before they hit the ground, a swarm of butterflies caught them, taking them to his lair.

Gabriel’s legs gave up and he fell to the floor, for once happy that Cecilia couldn’t see what her son had become.