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stones-x-bones · 3 years

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Common Decency || Kyle and Bex

TIMING: Current (Yesterday) PARTIES: @darkh0wl SUMMARY: Bex and Kyle meet up in the Common after weeks apart and things go swimmingly. CONTENT: Domestic abuse mentions, Internalized homophobia, Drug mention (wolfsbane), Memory loss mention, PTSD

Bex checked and rechecked the time on her phone several times. She wouldn’t have blamed Kyle for not coming-- last time they’d met up had been a disaster. But that was a few weeks ago now, and she was better, really, she was. She could handle herself. The hunter in the alley was proof enough. And yes, maybe she still did have nightmares about Kyle attacking her, but she had control now. She had power now. She could stop him if something happened. And hadn’t Kyle said that he had something to help him with control? So, then, this would be fine. And she’d even taken precautions this time. Mina knew she was here, meeting with him. She was on speed dial, even. Bex figured that would have made her feel better, even if she could tell Mina wasn’t excited at the prospect of her meeting up with Kyle. The minutes ticked by as she sat alone at one of the picnic tables in the middle of the common. He was gonna show up, right? Of course he was. He wanted to see her, too. She fidgeted nervously with her phone when she felt the urge to look up, and there, across the way, was Kyle. Her heart both froze and drummed faster. She could look at him, now, without immediately falling into that dark place. Still, her fingers tingled and her legs began to bounce. She stood up and waved at him. “Over here!” But she figured he already knew where she was-- didn’t werewolves have good noses? She hadn’t imagined that, right? She circled around the table and sat on the opposite side. “Y-you can sit,” she gestured, avoiding his eyes for a moment, “If you want.”

He was going to be late. Kyle was going to be late because he had spent too much time trying to sike himself up to meet Bex. She knew the dangers of meeting up with him, but she said she was going to tell someone where she was. They were meeting in a bright, well-populated park. This was not a dark, damp alleyway. But he’d thought campus would be pretty safe, and look how that had turned out. Maybe the wolfsbane would go better this time. It had worked during the full moon; not so much at the bar with Eddie. All he could do was stay calm and keep his fingers crossed.

By the time he had gotten there, Kyle’s stomach was rolling. He couldn’t tell if it was the anxiety or the wolfsbane, but he considered telling Bex to forget the whole thing. He hadn’t called it off, though, and made his way through the park towards Bex. He knew where she was—upwind from him—before she stood and waved to him, but it was a nice gesture anyway. Kyle waved back as he neared. “Hey,” he said, once he was close. “How are you? You look—,” better than last time he’d seen her, better than she did in the alley, better than in his nightmares where he was still ripping her to shreds, “—good.” He swung his legs over the bench of the picnic table and sat down. “How have you been?”

Kyle looked...tired. There were bags under his eyes, but Bex could pretend not to notice them if he didn’t want her to. She doubted she actually looked much better, though make up was convenient for covering up bags under eyes and bruises on foreheads. She brushed some of her hair down and glanced at him across the table. They’d never actually hung out before. They existed inside of each other’s heads and bickered for two weeks straight, and then they’d both snapped, and found each other in an alley, and well-- Bex’s chest was proof of the rest. She tried to stop the itching need to rub at it, old scabs now just jagged scars. “I’m doing better,” she said, and she could look across the table at him, and the open field behind him, and the sun, and not see the wolf and the darkness and the alley. She breathed in with relief. “How are you? I-- I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you for a while. It was just...I needed to let myself rest for a bit, I think.” She needed to let herself reconcile with the idea of death. She smiled gently and relaxed her body. “It is good to see you, though. Is Nell being nice to you, still?”

Kyle smiled. It was nice to see Bex looking relatively relaxed in his presence. It was nice to hear that she was doing better. He let himself relax and propped his elbows up on the table. “I’m glad to hear it. Me? Oh, I’m fine.” That wasn’t true. He lost his job at the bar; they didn’t like that he had nearly killed someone in the alley twice. He had been crushed by a dumpster and his ribs were still bruised. He started taking supernatural drugs that, yes, may help him with keeping his shifting under control, but also left him feeling about as good as he looked. Kyle was terrified he was going to kill someone. Bex didn’t need to carry any of that, though. He could keep that quiet this time. She was better off if he kept his distance, at least a little bit.

“I understand.” Kyle nodded, pursing his lips with the admission that Bex had needed some time. Of course she did, he had seen that first hand. The reminder, though, stung. He was right to want to keep her at an arm’s length. “You don't need to be sorry. I don’t want there to be any pressure between us. You don’t have to talk to me if you’re ever not feeling it. We— Friendships don’t usually start out this...complicated.” Kyle couldn’t think of another friend he’d ever made that had a backstory like theirs. He hoped that that maybe meant something; they could bond over it. Truthfully, though, he didn’t know Bex. Didn’t know anything about her, what her favorite color was, what she wanted to do with her life, nothing. Not really. But he did know her deepest secrets that she admitted to no one, not even herself. “How’s Mina?” he asked cautiously.

“Nell and I have come to a sort of...agreement? I don’t know if we’re friends. But she’s cool. She definitely needs to stop cheating at every single video game, but did you know she’s a good cook? She made me this soup—ish-is-i-...it’s like Latin or something, I don’t know.” He chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “It was good soup.”

Bex wondered if this was just what people did. Lie to each other about how they were doing and then pretend like they didn’t know. She wanted to say something to him-- really, she did!-- but something in the back of her head told her not to. It told her that if she tried to get too into it, maybe she would look at him again and just see the wolf. That maybe the panic threatening to bubble in her chest would erupt again and destroy the last chance she had to make things right with him. As much as anyone wanted to blame Kyle, none of this would have happened if it weren’t for her. He might’ve been the one tearing into flesh, but she was the one that had invaded his mind, and that would always be on her. “Good! That’s good. I’m glad you’re doing okay.” But the lie tasted bad on her tongue. Sour. It was all sour.

“No, I guess they don’t, but it’ll make a hell of a story, one day, right?” Bex tried to bring lightness back to the conversation, tried to wash the sour away. “But thinking on it, quite a few of the friends I’ve made here were after disasters.” Though not many of those had been true near death experiences. “So, really, we’re not that far off.” She gave him another gentle smile. She wanted him to know she was comfortable with this. And she was. Really, she was. The fear would probably always be there, she knew that, but she could learn to separate Kyle from the wolf, couldn’t she? His question about Mina threw her for a moment and she felt a blush rise in her cheeks. “She’s great! Fine. We’re-- great. And fine. She’s-- not exactly thrilled I’m here but I think she’ll come around eventually.”

Clearing her throat, she brushed off the heat in her cheeks and shifted, hands in her lap. “She cooks? I...didn’t know that. That-- was really nice of her. To do that for you. I hope she can help you. She’s been really good to me, too. I think she sorta feels responsible for me, even though she’s only like, four years older than me.”

Kyle wondered if Bex knew. Did she know he was lying? Did she see through him? It wasn’t hard to see how tired he was. He stifled a yawn and blinked hard. His whole body felt off. His stomach was sour. He was exhausted. But Bex didn’t say anything, and he surely wasn’t going to. He wondered if maybe Bex wasn’t telling the truth either, but he had no reason to suspect anything. He leaned against the table again, hunching in on himself a little more.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said of Mina and Bex. “You two are really cute together.” He tried not to let the comment, about Mina not wanting Bex here, bother him. He didn’t blame Mina. The first interaction they’d had together was post-mauling. Kyle was lucky she hadn’t decided he was enough of a threat to dispose of. He looked away, eyes wandering the park they were in. How could Mina come around? Kyle didn’t trust himself, he didn’t expect Mina to, either. ”Right,” he mumbled, bringing his attention back to Bex. “She, uh, she’s kind. I don’t know her, really, but she was kind to me the last we spoke. I hope I get to know her in the future.” He offered a smile that he hoped was reassuring, or at least polite, but it was stiff and forced.

Thinking about the soup made Kyle’s stomach groan. Had the wolfsbane actually been a bad idea? After all, it was literally poison. He couldn’t blame Nell for it; her warning had been crystal clear. Short-term use. He hadn’t listened. “I think you remind of—,” he paused, wondering if Nell had ever told Bex about her sister’s death. “Of a witch that’s close to her. I think Nell would do just about anything to protect another witch.” Nell had seen so much, been through so much. Did Bex know? Kyle clasped his hands together on the table and stared at them. It wasn’t his story to tell, but he hoped Bex understood some of the weight Nell carried and how it probably related to herself.

Bex flustered a moment. “We’re not--” she started, but cut herself off. She didn’t know what they were. She didn’t know if she wanted to know, or talk about it. She just liked having her. Having Mina. As her own. She liked being with her and around her and that was all that mattered, right? She cleared her throat and smoothed her palms down the front of her jeans. “We’re just...taking things one day at a time,” she finally answered. It was a non-answer though, she knew that. She wasn’t sure what else to say. She still couldn’t admit her own feelings. She watched Kyle’s eyes wander, and couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. “You talked to her? When was that?” His smile seemed stiff, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she looked away this time. “She will! Come around. She’s just-- worried about me. You understand, you know? Watching people you like get hurt is-- hard. But she knows it wasn’t your fault.” And so do I. She kept that part to herself.

“I-- yeah,” Bex murmured, staring across the table at Kyle’s hands as well. She wanted to reach out and grab them, squeeze them, reassure him she was okay, that she wanted to be here. To be his friend, to mend what they’d never truly had. “She would.” Bex knew that, too. Nell would tear apart the town for Bex if she needed to. It was a strange thought, but hadn’t she just told Mina she’d do the same for her? And wouldn’t she do the same for Nell? She lifted her gaze. “If Nell’s helping you out, I think it means she likes you, too. She wouldn’t do that for just anyone, you know?”

Was Bex really still lying to herself about this? About her feelings for Mina or the way she was most definitely not straight? Kyle’s eyebrows raised. “One day at a time,” he repeated. “Oh, I asked her...how you were doing. It was a while ago. I just wanted to make sure you were hanging in there.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking away again. “I didn’t think it was…I thought it was too soon to message you myself.” Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “Anyway, I get it. I know how she must feel about me. I don’t blame her. I— It’s a lot.” She knows it’s not your fault. Kyle didn’t want to argue. Not here, not now. But Mina was wrong if she thought it wasn’t Kyle’s fault for attacking Bex. A thousand should’ves and what ifs played in his mind, just like they did every day. If he’d only done things differently, maybe taken Ari up on her offer to shift with her, maybe tried to work on his emotional fragility—but he hadn’t, and that was what he had to make up for. “I know I’ve apologized at least a dozen times, but…I’m working on being better, Bex. And I hope you know that if I could change the way things happened, I would.” His throat was tight and his eyes burned. Kyle couldn’t cry in front of Bex over this. That wouldn’t help either of them move forward. He had to stay calm and talk about this like an adult.

When Kyle caught Bex’s gaze on him, it made him feel vulnerable. Guilty. He crossed his arms in front of himself and leaned on them. He didn’t want to think about Nell liking him in any capacity. She shouldn’t. He had tried his best to kill her, too. They talked about it, sure, but Kyle wasn’t ready to let go of his guilty conscience. It was all he had. If there was no more guilt, what was left? A sad, anxious, undisciplined child. He hated that person. “I don’t know about that,” he said, trying to dismiss the sentiment. “I think she’s trying to make sure I don’t kill anyone. It’s an act of-of charity, you know?” Part of him knew that was a lie, but it was easier if he lied to himself and Bex and everyone else. If he could just pretend he and Nell were just trying to get him to be more docile than dangerous, that felt better than making friends with someone else he’d tried to hurt. He couldn’t stop thinking about the sunrise he and Nell had shared, though. Sitting there in the chill of the morning air, watching the world wake up around them, and swapping stories about their deep hurt. Did it mean as much to Nell as it had meant to Kyle?

“Oh,” was all Bex said. Had Mina mentioned that? She couldn’t remember. She probably had. Mina didn’t hide things from her. Not usually. Not things that were important. Mina just tried to do too many things on her own, but lying wasn’t one of them. “That was...nice of you.” She watched him closely and wondered if her gaze was making him uncomfortable. But the table didn’t hold her attention very well, and neither did the peacefulness of the Common behind Kyle’s head. “I think...you can’t really actually know unless you ask her. She’s not..malicious, though, Kyle. She just cares a lot. Maybe too much sometimes.” She shifted and pulled one of her legs up under her, putting her elbows on the table in front of her and leaning her chin in her hands. “I know, Kyle,” she said quietly, “I’m sorry, too.” They could say it a million and one times but she knew that neither of them would ever stop blaming themselves, would they? She wished it could be easier. She wished she could take his guilt for him. She wished they hadn’t had to suffer like this. She wished she could look at him without having to think about it. “One day, maybe we won’t have to be.”

Bex nearly snorted at that, though, unable to keep the laugh from escaping her lips. “Nell? Give charity?” she stifled the laugh with one of her hands and shook her head. “You can tell yourself that all you want, but Nell doesn’t go around giving people charity cause she feels bad for them. She’s an extremely powerful witch, Kyle, if she really wanted to make sure you didn’t kill anyone, she would. And sitting with you during the moon isn’t one of those things.” She softened a bit. This was nice. She could look at him and see him and know it was him. It was Kyle. Kyle who played DnD at the library, and collected Yu-Gi-Oh cards, and worked at a bar, and thought about pretty girls a lot. It had taken time, but it had gotten better. “Don’t take her for granted, Kyle. I’m willing to bet she cares.”

“I’m not afraid of her.” Kyle spoke before he really stopped to think about it. “Well, I mean—I don’t think she’s malicious or dangerous. But she’s someone who means a lot to you, and we really got off on the wrong foot, so I’m afraid to mess up with her. I guess.” In that sense, Kyle was very much afraid of Mina. He didn’t like the thought of forging a friendship with Bex while Bex’s definitely-not-girlfriend-but-more-than-friend disliked him or hated him or just plain didn’t want to be around him. It didn’t sit right with him. It would feel like a weird intrusion of their space. Kyle rubbed at his nose and avoided looking Bex in the eyes as she spoke. She had nothing to be sorry about, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue with her about it. Bex wouldn’t let him, he was sure of it. For now, he could be quietly glad she was alive and here. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice coming out much softer than he anticipated. “One day.”

Bex’s laugh eased the tension he felt and Kyle’s shoulders sagged with relief. He hadn’t been aware he was gritting his teeth until his jaw relaxed, too. He made a point to try to let go of some of the stiffness in his body, and took a deep breath to ground himself. Kyle smiled and shook his head. “I guess you’re right. I just—she‘s protecting people, you know? Herself, you, the town...me. It’s—I don’t know. It’s nice of her to do. I didn’t think it was because she liked me. I won’t take her for granted. She’s done too much for me already.” He looked up and met Bex’s eyes. He was at war with himself, but sometimes everything seemed okay. Just for a moment, he could breathe easy. He wasn’t worried about Bex. She seemed okay.

“I didn’t say you were!” Bex shot back stubbornly, frowning. But it wasn’t a real frown, it was the kind of frown you gave a friend or annoying sibling. “If you just be yourself, you won’t mess up. She just-- kinda overreacts when I get hurt. Well, okay, maybe not overreacts, but she gets really worried and upset and I understand why, but it’s, well--” she stopped talking, suddenly, because she didn’t quite know what she was saying. “She just cares. And I think she could care about you, too, if you let her.” Or maybe Bex was wearing rose-colored glasses for Mina, but she really wanted her to understand that Kyle wasn’t a threat to Bex. That they could be friends. Couldn’t they all just be friends? She sighed and put her chin back in her hand. “I think both of you are just too stubborn right now. But, you know,” she shrugged, “one day.”

Bex smiled as she saw him visibly relaxing. It felt nice, to know that they didn’t have to make each other so stressed. That they didn’t have to worry so much, all the time, about each other. She still would, but it was nice to he wasn’t so tense around her all the time. And her, the same. After what had happened with the hunter, and with Morgan and that zombie, she wanted to learn how to separate the beast from the man. If she was not her magic, than Kyle was not his wolf. She just had to keep telling herself that. “Yeah, she is. She acts all aloof all the time, but she’s a really caring person, inside.” Kyle finally looked up and met her eyes and for the first time since she’d been under his claws, she didn’t feel afraid. She did, however, feel something wet on her lip. Reached up to find her nose bleeding again and shirked away, pressing her hand to her nose. “Sorry, this uh-- has been happening a lot lately.” Something was changing in the air, though. She could feel it. Her eyes scanned behind Kyle’s head. “Hey-- what is that?” she asked, blankly, staring at what seemed to be a hole, opening itself in the middle of the field, like a tear in the air itself. “You see that, right?”

Oh, so Bex was in love and still lying to herself. Kyle couldn’t hold back the smile that lit up his face. It was so cute to watch her ramble about Mina. He told her as much, saying, “This is cute, you know? The way you talk about Mina.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m willing to try being her friend. Especially if you two are...friends.” He put an emphasis on friends and tried to hide the satisfied smirk that went along with his words. “I’m not stubborn,” he argued, mirroring Bex’s frown. He stopped short of saying anything more, his frown turning into a petulant pout. “...Okay, fair point.”

Kyle agreed with Bex about Nell. They both saw through her exterior, at least to some degree. He hadn’t been able to see anything other than his lowkey former high school bully until recently. It was nice to see, though, that Bex saw her in a similar light. Kyle opened his mouth to comment on Nell’s scary tough outer shell, but there was blood dripping from Bex’s nose. “Are you good?” he asked, alarmed. “Hold on.” He patted his pockets and pulled out a little travel sized pack of tissues. “Here, tilt your head forward.” He passed the tissues to Bex, worried about her all over again. He almost ignored her questions, too focused on her seemingly random nose bleed. Kyle cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder and immediately did a double take. He could see the fissure opening over the field, and he’d seen enough movies to know that a tear in the fabric of space itself was not a good thing. Alarmed, Kyle’s hand shot out and grabbed at Bex’s own, though his eyes remained fixed on the—the—whatever it was. “What the f—!”

“It’s not-- we’re not-- I just think she’s really--” Bex stuttered, before grabbing the tissue from Kyle and holding it against her nose. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a nosebleed,” she tried to wave it off, tipping her head forward like both Mina and now Kyle had told her to. God, how much longer was this backlash going to last? She was getting tired of it. It’d been days, but Nell said regaining energy after using so much might take a bit. She nodded. “I do have a fair point. You should probably know I’m right about most things,” she said nonchalantly, her voice a bit drowned out by the tissue in front of her face. Finally, she pulled it away and found that the blood had dried, for the most part.

Which was a good thing, because she didn’t really have time to worry about a bloody nose. Not when there was a hole ripping open in the middle of the field and Kyle’s hand had shot out to grab her own. Bex startled just for a moment, but fought off the feeling of fear quick enough to not immediately pull away from him. Instead, she squeezed his hand back and tugged on it. “I think it’s a--” but before she could finish her sentence, the sound of roaring water began to fill the common, and out of the hole, came a river of it. “Holy shit!” Bex exclaimed, jumping up. There was no way she could outrun that water-- maybe Kyle could, but Bex wasn’t a runner. So, instead, as it splashed towards them like a flash flood, she jumped up onto the table and pulled Kyle with her. “What’s happening?” she asked, even though she knew neither of them had an answer. “Why is there water coming out of a hole in the sky!?”

Kyle wanted to tease Bex about Mina because there was no way they were just friends. He also hadn’t said they were anything but friends, so her quick response was that much more satisfying. He laughed, tossing his head back as she claimed to be right about most things. Before he could say anything more, though, there were more important things to think about.

Letting himself be pulled on top of the picnic table, Kyle instinctively moved to wrap an arm around Bex. He tried to put his body between her and the water, as if that would make any difference. In a fraction of a second, he considered their options. Option one, run. He didn’t know how fast Bex was, or if he could outrun the water himself. He could always carry her, but if he wasn’t fast enough, they would both be screwed. He couldn’t have her blood on his hands again. Option two, stay right where they were and hope that the table was buoyant. Option three...Kyle didn’t have an option three. The only other thing he could think of was to fight against the wolfsbane and shift so maybe he and Bex could have a chance to actually outrun the water.

“I don’t know! What do we do?!” Kyle yelled over the rushing water, looking at Bex with wide eyes. “You’re the magic one!”

Bex froze for a moment as Kyle wrapped an arm around her. He was safe, he was safe, he was safe. He wasn’t the wolf. He was Kyle. Just Kyle. Just a stupid, silly, annoying boy who was her friend. Besides, he wasn’t the danger present. The water rushing around them was. It splashed against the table and knocked it and Bex would have stumbled had his arm not been around her. She clung to him, looking around. “Should we-- should try and go through it? Do you think it’ll stop?” This wasn’t nearly as fun as ghost hunting with Eddie. Still, it was strangely...fascinating to Bex. Was that a portal to another dimension? Was it anything like the portal Nell used to summon demons from? She squinted at the shimmering portal just a few dozen feet away from them and wondered if there was some way for her to close it. “Okay, well, I’m a beginner magic person, so don’t, like, fault me for not knowing what it is! Or what to do!” she said stubbornly over the roar of the water. “I-- might be able to close it? Let me see what spells Nell made me…” she ruffled through her purse. A spell to freeze someone temporarily, a spell to create a smoke cloud, a spell to turn invisible. No, nothing to help with a random portal opening in the middle of the park.

When she looked up, she saw other people frantically climbing trees or swimming towards safety, but it wasn’t just people in the water. There was something dark, with glowing eyes, hidden under the waves. She braced an arm against Kyle. It was swimming towards them. “Wh-what is that?”

It was a bad day to go to the park, and a worse day to decide to try some wolfsbane to keep himself calm. Kyle would have liked nothing more than to try to wolf out and carry them, or swim them, both to safety. Instead, he was sleepy, nauseated, and very much human. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to jump in anytime soon!” The water was rising as it continued to pour from the rift. If the picnic table didn’t become a picnic raft, pretty soon they’d be going under. Kyle could not swim, which seemed like a pretty important thing to know how to do right now. Ironically, he could doggy paddle well enough to keep his head above water, but that wouldn’t help if the water didn’t stop.

“Well?” he called as Bex searched her bag. “Do you have an anti-water portal spell!?” He looked around, trying to find a way out, but he only saw water and people trying to get to higher ground. There were people on a playground set, people in trees, people on benches—all of them trying not to drown. Kyle was about to ask if Bex could swim, but was interrupted by her pointing out the thing lurking beneath the waters’ surface. Great, another supernatural something that he didn’t know existed until today. “I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out!”

“Oh, no, we are not jumping in,” Bex said, shaking her head. She had to do something. Wasn’t there something her magic could do? She tried to think of anything practical, but nothing came to mind. Feather falling, enchanting things to move on their own, and making things float weren’t going to come in handy here. “I can’t swim,” she admitted, giving a sheepish grin. The water splashed up a little more onto the table, wetting their feet. She stepped back as if that would help anything, but of course it wouldn’t. Her feet were still wet and the water was still rising, and the thing in the water was still coming towards them. A head popped up, breaking the waves. “Is-- is that a person?” It looked like a very attractive woman, really. But something just didn’t seem right about that. Suddenly, behind it, another head popped up. And another. And another. Bex groped at Kyle’s shirt, staring wide, tugging. “We-- we need to get to higher ground. Fast.”

She looked around. There. A tree. It was the tree that was shading the few picnic tables around the area, but it was probably farther than either of them could jump. Unless… She turned to look back at Kyle. “Do you trust me?” she asked, looking him in the eyes.

“I can’t swim either,” Kyle groaned. “We’re gonna drown.” He didn’t want Bex to die. Maybe she could climb on his shoulders or he could—could throw her or— His feet were wet and that was the worst feeling Kyle could possibly imagine right now. A real insult to injury moment. Bex was right about the person in the water. No, not person, singular. It was people, plural. For a split second, Kyle almost relaxed. People weren’t as dangerous as he and Bex combined. Maybe they were okay. But they were definitely outnumbered, and there was something wrong. The women that surfaced smelled all wrong. They weren’t human. They almost smelled like Mina, but definitely distinctly fishier. “Are they—are mermaids real?!” he exclaimed. This was totally not how The Little Mermaid had panned out.

“What?” Kyle asked, brow creasing together. He looked right into Bex’s eyes. “Trust you? With my life.”

“Mermaids?” Bex asked, raising a brow. She looked back at the women rising from the water and found that they all had identical faces, nearly. There was no way they were human. Or anything. “I-- should we talk to them? I don’t know if mermaids are real, I haven’t asked anyone yet!” But she would after this. And then her next question would be-- how could all the movies get them so wrong? She turned back to Kyle, still gripping his shirt tightly. He looked right at her and said he did. He trusted her. With his life. She almost felt bad about it. She wasn’t sure she returned the sentiment. Not yet. He had almost killed her, and now here they were, and his life was in her hands, and she had to do something. She couldn’t let them die. Even if it hurt. Even if she passed out again. She nodded. “Good, now,” she held out her hand to him and her palm was no longer red. It had faded just a few days ago, “take my hand and...think light thoughts? I...haven’t done this on anything bigger than a head sized rock.” She scooted them towards the edge of the table, in the direction of the tree. “On the count of three, jump as high and far as you can, okay?” She drew in a breath, and drew in her magic. “Together?”

“I’m not talking to them,” Kyle stated, shaking his head. Now didn’t seem like a good time to gamble with the possibility that the—whatever they were, were not only sentient but also willing to talk and not maim, eat, or kill a wolf and a witch when they were so ripe for the taking. “I don’t know if mermaids are real either!” He didn’t really want to find out. That would be just another box to tick off in the ‘mind blowing revelations to keep Kyle up at night’ category.

Kyle looked at Bex’s outstretched hand and back up to her face before he took her hand. It didn’t make him feel great that she hadn’t tried this with something people sized, let alone two. But there were no options, and Kyle trusted Bex. He nodded at her and tried to think of feathers and balloons and air. He wasn’t sure if that had been a joke or if things really did work like in Peter Pan, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Okay...1...2…”

“Well, they could be nice,” Bex argued for a moment, but just as she did, one of them lifted from the water and a set of gnarly, crooked, blood-stained teeth peered out from under the waves .”Or...maybe not.” She looked back towards the tree and thought of all the times her and Nell had practiced this spell. She thought of air, and being light, and feathers floating down to the ground. She thought of how powerful she’d felt ripping memories from that hunter’s head. She thought about how powerful she could be, if she just tried. If she just concentrated. If she just believed. She let her energy go and let it snake up her arm and into Kyle’s hand and through his body. He counted down and together with him she said the number, “Three!” and she stepped forward and she jumped as high and far as she could and she-- felt her body floating lightly through the air as they arced above the water. She held fast to Kyle’s hand and tried not to instinctively close her eyes as they came back down towards the trunk of the tree. She grappled for a branch, but missed, and sudden thoughts of plunging into the water made her feel heavy again. “G-grab a branch!” she shouted at him as she felt her magic waver, clinging to Kyle. “Hurry!”

Kyle was not prepared for that. For any of it. He hadn’t been ready for the teeth belonging to the beautiful women in the water. That was unexpected. This was definitely not Ariel’s story. Even more so, he had not been prepared for the jump, even as they counted down together. Eyes screwed tightly shut, Kyle waited for them to land safely. When that didn’t happen, one of his arms shot out, his eyes flying open, and he deftly grabbed a branch, still clinging to Bex with the other hand. “Hold on!” he shouted. “I’ve got you!” He didn’t know how to pull Bex up to safety without a steady grip himself. Kyle looked down at Bex and the water below her and his stomach dropped. “Hold on,” he repeated, less assuredly. He pulled Bex up like a curling weight. “Wrap yourself around me and I’ll pull us both up.”

Bex knew she was putting a lot of strain on Kyle by dangling from his arm, but she couldn’t help it. There were angry gnashing teeth beneath her, and if those didn’t kill her, the current surely would. They just needed to get to higher ground and wait it out, that was all. He curled her up and she scrambled to find purchase on him, wrapping her arms around his midsection and pressing against him tightly. “Pull us up!” she called out, bending her knees as something that look like an overgrown, ravenous otter leapt out of the water and gnashed at her feet. “Hurry!” She didn’t mean to rush him, but she really didn’t feel like being fish food today. She had promised Mina a whole week of nothing disastrous happening and she really figured that getting eaten by a demonic otter counted as disastrous.

“I’m trying,” Kyle growled through gritted teeth. Once his other hand was free, he gripped the branch above them like a pull-up bar and pulled them both up to its level. He didn’t stop there, wanting to put as much space between himself and the ottershark as possible. “You’re doing great, Bex,” he said, continuing to pull them up a few more feet until there was a branch sturdy enough and wide enough for both of them to sit on. He paused there, arms wrapped around Bex, and looked down at the water again. “Holy shit,” he mumbled. Hesitantly, he loosened his grip on Bex and looked at her. “You okay?” he asked. If her heart rate was anything to go off of, she was at very least rattled.

Bex squeezed Kyle even tighter as she buried her face in his side so she didn’t have to watch, simply hoping she wouldn’t get snapped up off him. Finally, he was pulling on her to climb up and she hoisted herself up onto the branch as well, staring down at the water as the strange creature began circling the tree, much like a shark circling its prey would. Kyle was saying something to her but all she could think about was what had just happened, and what she’d just accomplished. Sure, beside blowing up a doll and ripping the memories from someone’s head, it didn’t seem like much, but she’d floated two people across a distance they normally wouldn’t have been able to jump, and gotten them to safety! She turned to Kyle and even though her heartbeat was racing out of her chest, she was smiling. She didn’t even notice the blood streaming from her nose again. “Did you see that!?” she exclaimed, feeling woozy. Her head spun and she sagged against him. “That was-- I did it! Nell would be so proud,” she slurred.

Kyle wrapped his arms around Bex again, holding her in earnest this time. Clearly, the leap had taken a lot out of her. He’d learned from Eddie that doing magic—or whatever Eddie did—was draining. It made sense, shifting was incredibly draining for Kyle, too. He didn’t say anything about the blood this time, even when it most definitely got on his shirt. “I’ve got you,” he said quietly, into the top of Bex’s head. The creature still lurking below him, Kyle felt a swell of protectiveness over Bex. It was his job to keep her safe in this tree. It was the least he could do after everything. “I’m sure Nell would be proud of you. I’m proud of you! I don’t know a lot about magic, but that was incredible, Bex.” This hurt a lot less than being crushed by a full dumpster, and it was less terrifying than watching a dozen people relive a near death experience. Flying was scary, but it was almost...Exhilarating. It was maybe the first magic Kyle had seen that he wouldn’t mind trying again.

Kyle was just Kyle, Bex realized. He wasn’t a big, bad, scary wolf, and he had never meant to hurt her. He would never hurt her. She sank into his arms and let her head rest on his shoulder. The scars were still there. The pain was still there. The fear was still there, but Bex could understand that Kyle was just Kyle. She’d spent so long in his head she’d forgotten he was fighting his own battle inside of himself. She’d never been privy to it. She wanted to help him. She wished he understood she didn’t blame him. That she forgave him. “It’s just a simple spell,” Bex murmured, shifting in the tree to sit closer, curling her legs up. The bottoms of her jeans were wet, but she didn’t really mind. Her arms felt numb again, like they had after the spell she’d done on the hunter. “Thank you,” she finally said, reaching up to rub her eyes, “for trusting me.”

Kyle could fall asleep like this. Bex was warm in his arms and, given the precarious position the two of them were still currently in, he felt safe. The creatures that loomed beneath the swirling surface of the water seemed less intimidating from up in the treetops. Kyle didn’t know how they were going to get down from the tree, but that wasn’t a concern of his just yet. This town was weird, maybe they had a weird Coast Guard that knew more about things that lurked in the deep.

“A simple spell? You said you’d never moved anything this big. That’s impressive. I can’t do that,” he said, grinning. “Don’t sell yourself so short.” Kyle wondered if things would’ve been different had Bex been able to just float away like this in the alley. Would he have still chased her? Would he have attacked someone else? It wasn’t for him to know. He was fighting the urge to apologize again when Bex thanked him. His heart ached with affection for her in that moment. “You don’t have to thank me, Bex. I’ve trusted you this whole time. It helped, being inside your head. I can tell you’re just...a really good person.”

Bex had never imagined she’d feel safe around Kyle ever again, but up in this tree, what was there to feel but that? His arms were tight around her, and she’d never really realized how much muscle he had. He’d pulled them up into the tree all by himself, after all. Or was that a werewolf strength thing? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t really want to ask, though. Her body felt too exhausted to move, anyway, even if she’d wanted to. What would Mina think? Hiding up in a tree with the werewolf who almost killed her. She swallowed and looked at the water below them. It was beginning to slow, but the creatures underneath the surface hadn’t left yet. They could smell a meal, and Bex watched as blood dripped off her chin into the water. “Shit…” she mumbled, wiping it away again.

“Oh, I mean...the spell itself,” Bex said, looking over at Kyle. He was a little blurry and she strained to focus. “Nell didn’t exactly tell me but I’m pretty sure it was a beginner spell. Like, for kids. I read about some of the beginning spells in a book Morgan let me borrow.” She didn’t mind, though. Not really. She was a beginner at magic, even if she was picking it up at an alarmingly fast rate. She looked away at his second statement, back down to the water. Was she a good person? Would he still say that knowing what she’d done to that hunter? She sniffled again as she felt more blood trickling from her nose and reached up to pinch it closed. “I was in your head, too, you know,” she finally said, “I think you’re a good person. You’re just a little…” she scrunched her nose trying to think of the word, “distracted.”

Kyle moved to grab the tissues from his pocket again, before realizing they had been left on the picnic table, forgotten as the water rushed in. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe at Bex’s face, aiming to get rid of some of the blood. “What a good time to get a nosebleed,” he said, tone light compared to the concern on his face. “Are you okay?” He reached out to cup Bex’s face in his hand, but hesitated. His hand hovered inches from her face. He was nervous that the gesture would be too much and let his hand fall.

“Even if it’s a beginner spell, you’re new to this. You’re a beginner, it’s okay to take things slow! Wait, Morgan has magic books? That’s cool.” Kyle was worried as the blood continued to flow. Was it normal? Was this just a witch thing? He really wished he’d grabbed the damn tissues. He pursed his lips and looked down at the dark waters below them again. Was he a good person? Would she still say that if she knew what had happened with Eddie at the bar? Distracted. “Why do you say I’m distracted?” he questioned. “What am I distracted from?” What was he distracted by?

“Yeah, sorry,” Bex mumbled, feeling a bit delirious now. “It’s been happening a lot lately. Ever since--” she started, but managed to stop herself, biting down on her cheek-- “something happened.” She didn’t really want to tell Kyle what she’d done to that hunter. She’d done something similar to him, hadn’t she? Would he still want to be her friend if he knew what she did to people? That she’d willingly used the power that had ruined everything for them? She rubbed at her nose and tilted her head back. “I think it’s done now, anyway.” She looked back over at Kyle. “It’s fine, really! Nothing to worry about.”

She scooted back against the trunk of the tree and let herself rest. “Yeah, I know. I’m new to all this, I need to give it time, yadda yadda,” Bex mumbled, head dizzy. She rubbed her eyes and didn’t notice the blood smearing on the side of her face from it. “I mean you’re always thinking about other things. I might think a lot but you were always...concentrated on something else. You never really...sat alone with yourself,” she explained as best she could, looking over at him with weary eyes. “Guess we’re opposites in that way, huh? I think...too much and you think too little.”

“What happened? Did you break your nose or something?” Kyle asked, still concerned but trying to trust Bex on this one. He trusted her with his life, but that didn’t mean he trusted her to not lie about how she was feeling. “See, you telling me not to worry makes me worry. Funny how that works.” Hadn’t Bex said she was fine after Kyle hurt her? And again when they last met up? It was hard to believe her now.

Kyle let go of Bex, scooting back a little ways to afford her some space on the limb of the tree. “You’ve got some…” He gestured to his face where the blood had smeared. “Can I get that for you? You’re all bloody now. If I send you home bloody, I’m sure Mina will never let us hang out again.” He was joking when he said it, but Kyle worried that maybe there was a grain of truth to his words. He didn’t have much time to worry about it because Bex was out here reading him like a book. “I—,” he began to argue. The words died in his throat because maybe Bex was right. He didn’t put a lot of thought into himself or, well, he did but it was all about how much he wanted to be better for other people and the harm he’d done. None of his thoughts were spent on how to reduce the harm or better himself. Still, the way Bex had worded it caught him off guard. “Ouch,” he said, clutching his chest over his heart and feigning hurt. “I think too little. You really just went for it, huh? Cuts deep.” Again, he was joking, but something about her words actually stung. Was she calling him thoughtless? Brainless?

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Bex reassured, shirking away from his concerned gaze. Hadn’t he said he was always worried about her? Especially after what had happened between them? She didn’t know how she felt about that. About all these different people being concerned about her. It was enough to know Mina worried so much about her, having someone else be concerned, especially someone who she had such a storied past with, made her insides feel funny. Or maybe that was the fact that she’d used a hefty amount of magic again after not letting herself relax for long enough. “I’m okay, really! It’s just a magic thing, I guess.” She didn’t want to worry him anymore than he already seemed to be.

“Where?” Bex asked, looking over at him and watching as he scooted away. She furrowed her brow. “I’m sure she’d understand. She knows this has been happening and that it wouldn’t have been your fault.” She didn’t move, looking over to him as he offered to wipe it away for her. Her head was still spinning, so she’d let it happen for now. She could be okay with this. She was totally more okay with this. Being around Kyle. She was feeling-- good about this. “Okay, you know what I meant! You think too little about yourself. Even before-- what happened. You were always thinking about other people. And, well, about Yu-Gi-Oh cards and DnD. And pretty girl butts. And no, I’m not letting you live that one down.”

“A magic thing, huh?” Kyle repeated, scooting closer again, reaching out and cupping Bex’s face with one hand. With the other hand, he wiped at the blood on her cheek. “Why would the magic give you a nosebleed?” His forehead creased with the worry he said he didn’t have. It wasn’t like they’d been honest with each other thus far. He licked his thumb and rubbed at some of the blood that had begun to dry onto Bex’s cheek. Then, he tried to dry her cheek with his sweatshirt sleeve. “I’d like to not give Mina any doubt that I looked after you,” he said softly. Once the worst of the blood smear was cleaned off, Kyle sat back again. “There. Much better.”

He pushed up his sweatshirt sleeves as he scooted back, fidgeting with them to keep himself preoccupied. “I know what you meant,” he said. “I’m always thinking about anything but myself. I don’t like to think about myself. It’s—I’m not as important.” He folded his hands in his lap, looking back up at Bex now. “Yu-Gi-Oh! is good. I think you would maybe like it if you tried. Or if you watched it. DnD is pretty fun, too.” Kyle barked out a laugh when Bex mentioned the butt comment. “Okay, in my defense, you’re very pretty! When I see a good butt, I think about the good butt. Like Nell has a good butt. And Eddie has a pretty good butt. Sometimes, you see a butt and it’s nice!”

“Uh, well,” Bex started, “it’s like-- energy. You know? And when you exert too much energy, you get tired. Or sick. Or--” she gestured at her nose, “--nose bleeds.” She froze entirely when Kyle reached out. His hand was on her cheek and she watched with static eyes as he reached out and began wiping the blood off her cheek, off the side of her head. She swallowed but stayed still as he finished up. Used the sleeve of his sweater to dry her now flushed cheeks. “There’s no doubt,” she said, once he’d finished. She didn’t shift once he was done, and watched him sit back against the tree. Finally, she moved to come sit next to him, struggling only for a moment as a branch snapped under her and settled next to him. She leaned against him and put her head on his shoulder.

“You are important,” Bex protested quietly, “you’re important to me. And to Nell, and to-- your parents. To all your friends.” She looked down at the water below them and noticed it beginning to recede. She chuckled, her shoulders shaking with the action. “You think so? I’ve never actually tried it. I...don’t even actually know anything about it,” she shrugged, “but if you think so, then I’m willing to try it.” She was surprised by his laugh, but even more surprised by his words. She sat up, then, raising a brow. “You-- what? You like-- hold on. You know Eddie?”

Kyle wrapped his arm around Bex as she scooted closer. “I’m sorry if lifting us was too much exertion,” he said, worried again. “Why didn’t you say something? We could’ve figured something else out maybe.” Her head on his shoulder, he felt protective of her once again. He and Bex were falling easily into this little friendship. In a way, he felt this brotherly sort of affection towards her. Kyle just wanted Bex to be okay and be happy. “Does rest help?” he asked, wanting to do something to make her feel better.

Those feelings became a little stronger when Bex called him important. “You’re important to me, too.” He tried to ignore the way his chest tightened when Bex said he was important to his parents. The relationship they had... She had no way of knowing, but it wasn’t great. It was better than the one Bex had with her own parents, so Kyle stayed quiet. “I think I could totally get you into my nerd games,” he said, letting his head fall to the side on top of Bex’s. The action lasted only a moment as she sat back up. “Oh, uh, yeah. I totally forgot to tell you that I met Eddie. He mentioned you and—,” and what had happened in the alleyway. “—and he said you guys, um, met.”

“No, it wasn’t!” Bex argued back, but she wasn’t sure if that was entirely true. “It wasn’t too much! Not-- really. I just-- may have previously used too much and it may still be affecting me. But, really! Nell said it would be fine. It’ll stop soon.” She hoped it would be fine soon. “I don’t think we had a lot of time to figure anything else out, really. And it worked in the end, didn’t it?” she asked. And, really, she would’ve done it anyway, even if she’d told him and he’d said no. She wasn’t about to let them both drown or get eaten by whatever was circling them in the water below. She peaked over and noticed that the top of the picnic table was sticking back up over the surface, and in the distance, sirens were wailing. “Rest, yeah. Rest helps.”

She let herself relax a bit more. Despite everything that had happened between them-- and the panic that she still felt trying to worm its way into her chest-- Bex was glad to know she was important to Kyle. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but it had something to do with how desperately she’d needed to see him after the incident. How desperately she’d needed to know he was okay. “You think so? I’d be curious to try. I do like proving I’m better than people at their own games,” she teased, but her face fell a little at his statement and she glanced away. “He-- told you what happened, didn’t he?” she asked, shame tinging her voice, her cheeks.

“You burnt yourself out recently, and then used magic to save us? If rest helps, then get some,” Kyle chided. He cocked his head to the side, eyeing Bex with curiosity. “Was it your practicing with Nell that tired you out so bad? I know she can be...persistent in her methods.” Maybe persistent wasn’t the word when Nell had scared him into shifting. Still, she had been insistent if nothing else, that she help Kyle with his control. “It did work out, I just feel bad that you’re paying for it.”

Feeling a little safer about the slowly receding water below them, Kyle straddled the branch and let his legs swing down. “You have a lot of catching up to do if you’re gonna beat me at my own games.” He grinned at her, but his grin faltered when Bex turned away. “Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to, and Eddie’s okay. I’m—,” he bit his lip and hesitated. Kyle didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to talk about it if Bex didn’t want to. But he needed to know. “Do you still have the nightmares? About me?”

“I am resting!” Bex huffed, folding her arms over her chest as she looked at Kyle. She unfurled herself and glanced away, hair falling in her face. “No! No, Nell is great with me, really. She’s not pushy or anything like that. She’s really supportive and she never lets me use too much magic.” She wrung her hands together, picking at the bark on the tree. “It was just something I tried on my own, but it won’t happen again.” Probably. Maybe. Well, no, it was going to happen again. If any hunter tried to hurt Mina-- or Kyle-- again, she wasn’t going to hesitate. “Well, I mean, there’s a price for all magic. Sometimes it’s just a little something, sometimes it’s ingredients, sometimes it’s-- energy.”

Kyle scooted away, but Bex decided to stay planted right where she was. She was a little worried if she moved too much she might pass out and fall from the tree, but she wasn’t going to tell Kyle that and make him fuss over her even more. Surprisingly, though, being stuck up a tree with the person who had nearly killed her didn’t seem as scary as falling into the water below. It was because Kyle was just a boy, not a wolf. Not right now. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes as she admitted, quietly, “Yes.” Because what good would lying do right now? She wanted to forge a friendship with him, and lying about this wouldn’t spare anyone’s feelings. “Not every night. And-- Mina helps. Being next to Mina helps. When I try to sleep.”

Kyle squinted at Bex. “What to you mean it was something you tried on your own? Bex, I don’t know enough about magic to keep you safe.” He hadn’t meant to word it like that, but it slipped out anyway. “I mean, I’m sure you don’t need me to keep you safe, but I’m worrying again,” he amended, trying to play it off. He did trust Bex, but he didn’t trust the magic. He hadn’t seen magic be used positively or without consequence. It was hard to trust something he couldn’t possibly comprehend. “I just hope you’re being careful.”

If it were possible for Kyle to feel more guilt than he already did, hearing that Bex was still having nightmares about him did it for him. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and looked down at the tree, picking at the bark. “I’m having them, too.” Truthfully, Kyle hadn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep in weeks now. The closest he’d gotten to peaceful sleep was when the wolfsbane knocked him out cold. He couldn’t sleep without seeing himself on top of Bex, or hearing and feeling the fear she had experienced. “Benefits of being in your head, I guess.” He pulled a small chunk of tree bark off the limb and watched it fall down into the water. The height made him dizzy if he looked for too long, so he closed his eyes. “I can’t apologize enough for that night. It’s—I know you don’t want me to blame myself or whatever, but it’s hard not to. You were already going through a lot and I’m sorry for what I’ve added onto that.” Kyle felt sick again, but this time he was pretty sure it wasn’t the wolfsbane.

“I don’t need you to keep me safe!” Bex said back before she could stop herself. “I don’t need anyone to keep me safe.” He tried to rescind his statement, but she understood what he meant. People worried for her, and that did feel nice, but she didn’t need them to protect her. She had been fine on her own for twenty years, she could be fine on her own now. She turned her head away and leaned back against the tree, pulling her knees up to her chest. She rubbed a hand across it, feeling the lumps of the scarred flesh that was still healing on it. “I’m being careful,” she muttered. Now at least. She doubted Kyle would count following a hunter into an alley as careful.

Bex felt a pang at the quietness of his voice. All of this had happened because of her, and she wished, so badly, that she could take it away. It didn’t seem fair, that he had to suffer like this, too. At least when she'd fallen into that dream world, it had only been her. No one else had fallen with her. Even if, sometimes, she’d wished they had. It was a cold loneliness that only ever reminded her of home-- of her parents. “And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I don’t blame you. I-- don’t like what happened, and I-- accept that part of it was your fault. But part of it was my fault, too, and the fact of the matter is that we never would’ve been in that situation had I just-- been better at using magic, at-at controlling myself. I was still so-- resistant at that point. That’s why I’m working to get better. For-- for myself but also for-- for you.”

Kyle flinched at Bex’s words and shrunk into himself a little. Something about her tone was like a slap to the face. “I’m sorry,” he said, refusing to make eye contact. “You’re totally capable, I know that. Just—after what I did to you, after thinking I killed you...it’s hard not to want to protect you.” He closed his eyes and locked his jaw, willing himself not to cry. He didn’t want Bex to feel any guilt for his actions or feelings. Clearing his throat and blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay, Kyle looked around the park. He could still pick out other people up in the foliage of the trees. “That’s—I trust you. I do. I don’t trust what other people might do to you. I don’t want anyone to hurt you. Like I did.” He wiped at his nose, trying to turn away. From his position, still straddling the limb they sat on, that was difficult. He ended up just looking over his shoulder, staring out at the water.

It hurt to hear Bex echoing his words, almost verbatim. If only she had had more control. Kyle shook his head firmly. “No. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t. I’ve been torturing myself with the same thought process over and over, Bexley.” He conceded and turned to face her. His eyelashes clung together with tears that still threatened to spill over. “If I had more control over my shifting, if I had been better at keeping my cool, none of this would have happened. And I want to change that—I’m trying to change that—to keep you and everyone else in this shitty town safe.” Finally, a single tear ran down Kyle’s cheek. He tried to wipe it away before Bex could see it. “Just—please don’t beat yourself up. You do not carry this alone.”

Bex stiffened and thought of Morgan, and the zombie in the shop. She remembered the look of such sorrow on her face when she came back out of the shop, clean, as if she hadn’t just killed someone just like her. She remembered her saying Bex was worth it. She remembered her saying Bex mattered more. She never wanted anything close to that for Kyle. “I don’t need you to protect me,” she said, quieter, with less gusto. “I just want you to be my friend. That’s all.” She didn’t need a protector or a knight in shining armor or a bodyguard. She just wanted people to stop treating her like she needed protection-- from themselves, from others, from monsters. She didn’t want to be behind people anymore, she wanted to be beside them. “They won’t. Like I said, I can take care of myself now. And I-- I’ve been doing that for a long time, already, anyway. I know how to take care of myself.” She lifted her legs and curled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “I already know what it’s like to have people hurt me because of the way I am.”

Bex put her chin on her knees and watched Kyle avoid her gaze. She kind of hated it. He was crying, she knew he was crying, so why wouldn’t he just look at her? Did she cause him that much distress? How had they already gotten back here when just a few minutes ago they’d been doing fine? Was this just how it was always going to be? She didn’t want that. “Morgan says I need to process everything and leave the what ifs behind. That I need to accept that I-- almost died. And that it was partially my fault. But I’m allowed to...still be upset about it. And-- scared.” She looked over at Kyle and saw the tear. She blinked away her own. “I think I’ve figured out that-- it’s not you that scares me, Kyle. It’s-- losing control. You or me or...anyone. The wolf wanted to kill me because I made it lose control. And I lost control because I didn’t understand. But I understand now.” She wiped her sleeve across her eyes. “You and the wolf you love and the wolf who attacked me aren’t the same.”

Kyle reached out towards Bex, he wanted to comfort her—tell her he would be her friend. Ultimately, he let his hand drop. He crossed his arms over his chest and pulled his legs up, criss crossed in front of him. “I want to be your friend. I’m worried that I’m the danger, though.” He sighed and carded his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I’m sorry. I can’t understand what it’s like to be you, but you don’t have to be afraid to be yourself. Not around me.” He hoped she knew that he meant with witchcraft, with being gay, with anything. But Kyle understood too well what it was like to want to hide from yourself.

“You’re always allowed to be scared. I don’t want to...I don’t want to make you feel like you have to be anything but yourself. Whatever self that is.” Kyle sniffled and swiped at his nose again. “Morgan is right. It’s—I have to accept some stuff, too.” How could he? How could he accept himself or what he’d done when he had almost killed someone who was actively asking to be his friend? How could he put her in that situation. “I’m scared, too,” he mumbled, voice soft and tearful. “Of myself. Of losing control. But here’s the thing Bex, I am the wolf. I don’t have control over it, but it’s not like it’s a separate entity. It’s me; just pure primal instinct. I wanted to attack you. I wanted to kill you. It feels good to lose control, even for just a minute. The adrenaline is…a rush. But I wake up, I come back to myself, and I see what I’ve done. And I hate who that person is, but it’s still me. At the end of the day, I can’t separate myself from the wolf. We’re the same.” The tears started falling freely, spilling over his cheeks and dripping off his jaw. “If I had killed you, I couldn’t ever forgive myself. I can’t now. I need to—to work on it. That’s why Nell gave me wolfsbane.” He didn’t originally want to tell Bex about that; he didn’t want to tell her that he was being held together at his most vulnerable, by a fucking flower. But now, spilling all this to her about the wolf—it felt like the right time. “I’m working on it so I don’t ever hurt someone the way I hurt you. If I did, I wouldn’t blame Nell and Mina for doing what they had to.”

Bex watched him reach out, but stop. Why was he so hesitant, now, when he’d been so ready earlier? He’d even held her face and wiped off the blood. She wondered if it was because he thought he was going to hurt her, now, that she’d admitted her fears again. She could still remember how it felt, what had happened, the pain. Sometimes she woke up in a cold sweat screaming from it. Sometimes she felt like she was being clawed again. Sometimes she saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye and she was reliving the whole thing again. It still ate at every part of her, the death that could have happened, and the pain she had as the reminder. But she wasn’t afraid of Kyle, up here, in this tree. And she hadn’t been afraid, down there, sitting at the table. “You’re not dangerous to me anymore,” she muttered, “I tore out a man’s memories. I could stop you if I wanted to.” She wouldn’t, though. She knew she wouldn’t. Still, it was nice to think that she could. “I know. And-- you, too, you know. You-- don’t have to be afraid. Around me.”

Bex was quiet for a while, as she listened, as she absorbed what he was saying. Her heart was feeling heavy again, and she was tired. She wanted to lay in her bed and listen to Mina’s heartbeat as she fell asleep. Today had simultaneously gone much better and much worse than she’d thought, but she hadn’t torn apart a cafe crowd while having a breakdown, so it was definitely an improvement. “I heard your thoughts, Kyle,” she murmured quietly, “as a wolf.” They haunted her. “I know you wanted to kill me. But it wasn’t...you you. I remember that, too. The...loss of yourself. The loss of control. You were so scared. Up until the very end, you were so scared. That’s why I came. You needed help and I wanted to-- help. But I think...you not being in control, whether you like it or not, that’s not-- that’s not the same you as the one sitting here. And-- you shouldn’t-- you shouldn’t punish yourself for that. I-- don’t know what wolfsbane is, but if it’s anything like what I think, then, then-- please don’t hurt yourself in the process. And you know I wouldn’t let them. I won’t.” She wasn’t sure she’d forgive either of them if they killed Kyle, even if they thought they had to. He didn’t deserve that.

“You—,” Kyle paused and raised a hand, motioning for the conversation to slow down. “You did what? Ripped out his memories? What does that mean?” He might not know a lot about witches or magic, but could Nell do that too? Could all witches do that? What did that even mean? He had a dozen selfish requests lingering at the back of his mind—could you do that for me?—but he tried to brush aside the thoughts. He didn’t want that, not really, and he couldn’t ask Bex to do something like that, not that she would ever agree to it. “I’m not afraid,” he started to say, but he cut himself off. He was afraid, just not of Bex. Tentatively he reached back out and placed a hand on her knee. “I’m not afraid,” he repeated, with more conviction this time. If they were going to move past this together, he needed to trust himself around Bex, as hard as it was.

Bex was so adamant that Kyle wasn’t the wolf. She heard his thoughts, but she didn’t live through the shift. “How can you be so sure which thoughts were my own? How can you know I didn’t want to—don’t still want to—kill you?” His hand fell from her knee and he pulled his legs up to his chest, mirroring her posture. “I don’t know what’s me and what’s the wolf. It’s so hard. That’s why I have the wolfsbane it—,” how could he explain it without sounding like he was actively abusing it? Was he? “—it helps me calm down. Enough of it puts me to sleep. On the full moon, that’s enough to ensure I don’t hurt anyone. On any other day… I just want to make sure I’m level headed. It’s fine.” Was it fine? Kyle was telling half truths more than he was outright lying. Had Bex been in his head long enough to know? He hoped she didn’t. “I’m sorry this got—this conversation got way darker than I expected it to.” He chuckled to himself without any joy behind the sound, and pawed at his damp cheeks in an effort to dry them.

“It means what I said it means,” Bex stated matter-of-factly. She didn’t need to add on that she was pretty sure it hadn’t worked right, and that the nosebleeds were because there were memories in her head that weren’t her own. She looked over at Kyle, as he reached back out and put a hand on her knee. She shifted one of her own hands to dig under his and curl their fingers together. “I’m not, either,” she said back, quietly, but firmly. And really, she wasn’t. The fear she felt was for a memory, not the present. The fear she felt was about dying, losing control, not about sitting with her friend in a tree. “So..let’s stop worrying so much, and...work through this together? If-- that’s okay?”

At that, Bex had to laugh. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to, but she did. “Kyle, if you wanted to kill me, you’ve had plenty of opportunity. You could’ve just let me drown, or dropped me into the water to be eaten, or push me out of the tree right now. I was in your head for two weeks. I know you don’t want to kill me.” She quieted a little, then, and looked across the small space of the branch between them. “Well, maybe...someone can help you figure that out? Who-- who you are, who the wolf is? And, maybe one day-- they can be the same person. But...how much of ourself are we, really, if we don’t have control? Isn’t control what makes us...us?” His laugh threw her a moment, but she gave a shallow smile. “Don’t apologize. Guess that’s just what happens when you get stuck up a tree with someone.I promise I won’t tell Mina you almost got me eaten by a demonic otter.”

Right, so Bex could do that now. That was new. Kyle’s eyebrows raised and he blinked. He had so many more questions, but he let them die on his tongue. He didn’t want to push her past what she was comfortable talking about, so he dropped it. “Right,” he said softly, then repeated it with more gusto. “Right. We stop worrying and work on this together.” He looked down at where their fingers were laced together and smiled genuinely.

The laugh startled Kyle and the smile fell from his face. It was quickly replaced with a look of confusion. Bex was so sure he wasn’t a threat to her anymore. He appreciated the faith she had in him. He wished he had the same faith in himself. “I’m gonna keep working on it. I haven’t thrown in the towel quite yet,” he said, nodding. “Thank you. For being yourself.” The mention of Mina had him looking up at Bex. “Speaking of being yourself…” he mumbled under his breath. “Hey, I didn’t hand feed you to the otter. How was I supposed to know that today is the day that the fabric of space and time falls apart?” He chuckled to himself again. Cocking his head, he addressed the other part of Bex’s statement. “What will you tell Mina? About today.”

Bex let a gentle smile curl onto her face. It crinkled the edges of her eyes and she leaned her chin on her knees, still squeezing Kyle’s hand. His hands were warm, and much bigger than hers, and they fit in a way different from Mina’s, from Morgan’s. She hadn’t figured out what, yet, but friends could be a start. Maybe even good friends, one day.

“Me, too,” Bex said, determined to not let him be the only one dragging themself through this mud. They’d created it together, they could clean it up together. She didn’t think she’d fully convinced Kyle that he wasn’t a danger to her anymore, but she had taken many precautions, and for the moment, that was all they could do. Until they had control, until they felt good about themselves, that was all they could do. She chuckled softly, light in her throat. “I’m kidding,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I...don’t know yet. Probably...the truth? I’ve been trying to be better about that, about...letting her know things. She always worries so much, and finds out things, anyway. I don’t want her to worry, but, you know...she’s protective. She’d worry anyway. In fact, she’s probably pacing around worried right now. She said she was going for a job, but I doubt she was relaxed enough to.”

Kyle laughed quietly and easily. As quickly as things had gotten tense again, here they were, smoothing them back out. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get whiplash from the rapid shifts in mood today. Anxiety, calm, panic, relief, guilt, sadness—all in one day. He needed a nap after this. The day had been a lot to handle. He listened carefully to Bex talk about Mina. He absorbed what she was saying. Did she not see it, though? Mina clearly cared very much for Bex. Why was Bex so adamant that they were absolutely not together?

“It sounds like Mina cares a lot about you,” Kyle said carefully. “And it sounds like you care a lot about her, too. Can I ask you a kind of weird question?” He didn’t leave much more than a beat of silence before he pressed on. He didn’t want Bex to say no, and this was a very important question. “Does Mina know that you’re definitely not dating? Like, she’s aware that you’re definitely just friends?” He tried to choose his words in a way that didn’t sound incendiary, but there was no good way to ask without the question sounding loaded. Maybe it was a loaded question, but it was one Kyle needed an answer to.

Bex felt her entire body flush at the question. “I-- she-- we--” she stuttered through words, words she didn’t even know how to string anything else to. “We’re not just-- we’re--” she felt like she didn’t know any words anymore. She didn’t know English or anything language, really. She only knew that she didn’t know the answer to Kyle’s question. Did Mina know? Did Mina care? Did Mina...want more? Did Bex? There were too many questions, actually, that that one question brought up. She pulled her hand away from Kyle’s and glanced away, cheeks burning pink. “I don’t know what we are, okay? We...haven’t talked about it. I just-- want her to be happy, is-- isn’t that enough? Does it have to be something more? Something labeled?” Does it have to mean she was gay? Her body seemed to stiffen on instinct, heartbeat quickening. She looked down and found that the water seemed to be low enough to walk in. Other people were climbing down from their hideouts. The strange women fish were flopping around uselessly, gasping for breath without enough water. She unfurled herself and started scooting towards a lower branch, reaching her foot out. She didn’t want to be here anymore.

Open mouth insert paw foot. Kyle bit his lip. He knew he was treading into dangerous waters in a lot of ways today. Clearly Bex was uncomfortable. She was blushing and moving to get out of the tree. Whatever little peace they had made today had clearly been shattered again. “I’m sorry—,” he said, reaching out to stop her from getting down from the tree. “I didn’t—I said that all wrong I think. You don’t have to talk to me about this, Bex. I just wanted to try to let you know that you can, if you want to. I won’t make you talk to me about it, but I understand how you’re feeling.” Maybe that wasn’t true. He didn’t know, not really. But he could make a pretty good guess. His first crush on a boy in middle school had really thrown him for a loop. But he’d had the time to find peace with it, and wanted to offer that to Bex now. “It’s fine if you’re gay, or bisexual, or if you don’t know what to call yourself. I don’t either, to be honest. But it’s okay to like Mina and admit that. Your friends, your family—and I’m talking about Morgan when I say that—they still love you.”

“Stop it!” Bex said loudly, and it made her head hurt. She pulled her arm away from him. “Stop it!” She didn’t want to talk about this. Or think about it. She had a good thing and she just wanted to keep it that way and talking about it might make it go away and that terrified her. It terrified her to think about what Kyle was saying. And maybe, somewhere, she knew she needed to. Talk about it. Confront it. But she didn’t want to right now. She latched onto the branch as she crawled down, her foot slipping. Another branch snapped and fell into the water. “I’m not talking about this. I’m not talking about this to anyone. I’m not gay. I’m not, I can’t be. It’s just-- it’s just Mina. I’m not--” she felt herself spiraling again, falling back into that place where her heart felt like it was being ripped from her chest and every bruise she’d ever had was burning on her body. She was shaking and didn’t even know it. “You don’t understand. How could you? You don’t. You don’t know how I’m feeling or what I’m feeling or what my life was like. You don’t understand.” She couldn’t move anymore and it took every last bit of energy she had left to keep herself from crying. “I want to go home.” She demanded, her voice cracking. “I’d like to go home now.” She wanted to call Mina. She wanted to be somewhere safe. She wanted to curl up under her blanket and maybe never come back out. Not if this was what waited for her in the world. Not if this was what everyone inevitably asked her about. She didn’t have an answer for them. And it terrified her, because she knew, one day, Mina would be the one asking, and then what would she say?

Well, that hadn’t gone well. That had gone even less well than expected. He didn’t blame her, honestly. It was a confusing, scary thing to deal with alone. The snapping branches beneath Bex’s feet made Kyle’s stomach do flips. He felt dizzy if he looked down, so he looked at Bex and tried not to think about falling. “Can I help you down out of the tree? I don’t want you to fall. I know you’re capable of getting down yourself, but I would like to help you if you would like help.” He tried to speak calmly and quietly, but his voice wavered. He held in the flinch this time when Bex’s voice was sharp and dangerous. She was lashing out because she was afraid. Hadn’t Kyle done the same thing a hundred times? “You’re right, I don’t understand. But I can make a pretty good guess. You’re scared. That’s okay, I’m not trying to make you come out to me or anything. I don’t want that for you. All I want is to let you know that you have someone you can talk to if you ever want to.” He looked at Bex in silence for a few moments and offered her a hand. “Can I take you home now?” He had ruined the day, again. The least he could offer now was a ride back home.

Bex held onto the branch as if her life depended on it. It didn’t. At most, she’d break a bone from the fall. Which, bad, considering she’d promised Mina she’d be good and not get into trouble and, really, this wasn’t her fault. How was she supposed to know a portal to mermaid world was going to open up in the middle of the park? It wasn’t her fault. But she felt glued to this spot, branches barely holding her weight, as she tried her best to keep herself from crying. She didn’t want to cry again. She didn’t want Kyle thinking he’d ruined everything again, although she was pretty sure her yelling at him might’ve done that enough. “I’m sorry,” she sputtered, pressing her cheek to the branch, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I don’t want to talk about that, any of that, I don’t. I don’t need to know that. I don’t. I can’t think about that right now.” She needed control of her emotions, not to let them control her. She’d been doing so good. She’d been doing so good. She felt like she might explode, again. “Please take me home,” she muttered, “I want out of this tree.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, voice softening even more. “We won’t talk about it. Grab ahold of me,” Kyle said, before he wrapped his own arms around Bex as gently as he could. “Is this okay?” he murmured against her shoulder. His ribs were still sore after the Eddie alleyway incident, (why was it always an alleyway?) but he didn’t care if it hurt, he needed to make Bex feel safe. Once Bex was secure, Kyle started slowly and carefully climbing down. Once they were close enough to the ground that he felt like they wouldn’t be hurt, he let go and landed safely on his feet. The ground, still saturated, squished beneath his feet. His shoes immediately were soaked. Kyle grimaced and let out a soft groan, both from the pain that spiked through his abdomen and the sensation of wet shoes. “Sorry, sorry,” he rushed out. “I hope I didn’t jostle you too much.” He set Bex on her feet, trying to make sure she was steady. “Careful,” he mumbled, taking a step back. “You okay? I parked over here.” He gestured vaguely in a general direction, and started to walk. He kept his eyes on Bex, expecting her to follow. “Watch out for the fish. And...mermaids?” He didn’t know what else to say, but he had the overwhelming feeling that he should. Clearly, things were going all wrong and it was all his fault. If he had just kept his mouth shut today, or not chosen to go to the damned park—he was already slipping back into the what ifs.

Bex just nodded. She didn’t want to talk anymore. This always happened. People asked her about it and then she froze up and then things got ruined, because that’s what she did, she ruined things. Everything she touched. Kyle, Mina, Morgan-- fuck, even Dani, Eddie, Nell-- she just ruined it, because that’s what she was. Ruined. Her parents had taken everything from her and she hadn’t found anything to replace the bits they’d pried out of her. Nothing that wasn’t worth risking another person. She clung to Kyle as he lowered them down, and buried her face in his shoulder. She wanted to call Mina, but she didn’t want her to see her like this and think it was because of Kyle, because he’d hurt her, or upset her or-- well, maybe some of that was true, but she didn’t want Mina to see it. She didn’t need her to be mad at Kyle again. “I’m okay,” she said finally, and Kyle started walking away, and she grabbed his arm and pulled him back and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry,” she said into his shirt, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” She squeezed a little tighter. “I-- I’m just scared.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I’m so scared.”

Okay ow. The hug hurt, but Bex didn’t know Kyle had been nearly pancaked by a dumpster. She needed this. He bit back a groan and wrapped his arms around her, hooking his chin over her shoulder. “Hey,” he soothed, and started rubbing small circles onto Bex’s back. “You don’t need to say sorry. I’m really sorry I upset you. I know it’s a sensitive subject.” If he didn’t have super sensory hearing, he might’ve missed what she said next. Bex knew just how to break his heart into a million pieces over and over. “It’s okay. It’s really scary. Everything is really scary. It’ll be okay. I’m here.” He wanted nothing more than to protect Bex from the things that made her this upset. But she didn’t want him to, and it’s hard to protect someone from themself. “We’re pretty messed up. That’s okay, too. This isn’t forever, and things are going to be okay.” Kyle found himself swaying gently from side to side with Bex and his eyes drifted shut.

Bex breathed in deeply and held it. Just like she was taught. And then, in for three. Out for five. In for three. Out for five. She felt her body relaxing in Kyle’s grip. His touch was gentle. Soothing. She stopped shaking as her body calmed down and she finally opened her eyes, glancing around. Her shoes were soaking wet, and there was probably blood on her pants and her shirt and wow, even if she didn’t tell Mina what had happened, this all looked kind of bad. She sniffled and pulled away gently, too ashamed to look Kyle in the eyes. He’d said everything was going to be okay, but how could he know? He didn’t know. One day, someone would come and take her away from all this. She knew it. She was holding on as tightly as possible, she wanted to stay, but she knew. Breathing in deep, she looked up at Kyle and tried to smile. “Thank you,” she mumbled, chewing on her lip, “for meeting with me.” She scrubbed her hand across her eyes and nodded slowly. “I’m glad you came.”

Kyle felt Bex relaxing in his arms and smiled sadly. It was nice to know she felt comfortable enough to relax, but he hated that this was the circumstance. He tried to breathe in time with her, slowing his own breathing with hers. It surprised him when the tension ebbed away from his body. He would have to remember this in the future. Reluctant to let go, Kyle stepped back, looking at Bex with furrowed brows. She looked so...small. She had a way of looking breakable, like one more thing would undo her completely. He had the urge to grab her right again, but resisted. “Thank you,” he insisted. “I’m glad I came, too. Y’know, there aren’t many other people I’d like to sit in a tree with while we fear for our lives.” He cracked a small smile and extended an elbow for Bex to take. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: kyle #domestic abuse mention tw #drug mention tw #memory loss mention tw #kyle #common decency

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sea-side-scribbles · 3 years

Text

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Chapter 55

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/75005094

Nick gave the door a perplexed stare. No one did ever dare to shut a door in his face.

“Arthur“, he shouted at it, but to no avail. Tired and sad, he slumped down, resting his head against the cold bricks.

“Great job, Nick”, he told himself.

The relief he had felt when he had realized Arthur wasn’t a criminal now gave way to another depression.

“I don’t know, Nick.“

What did that even mean? Was it over? Just because he had made a mistake?

Oh well, he had accused him to be a murderer…not very nice, actually.

Nick winded.

It would’ve been such an easy solution…the Downer would be the bad guy and he could return to Morrie without a bad conscience.

“In the end, the real monster is you“, he thought before he could stop himself.

“No, I’m not a monster! Or am I?“

His feelings fought each other.

And how would that get him Arthur back?

Nick struggled up onto his feet, thinking that a therapy would actually be a good idea. He gave the door a last glance, giving it a chance to open before he would leave.

The chance was left unused.

Minutes later, he stood in front of another door that always opened for him.

“I’m glad you found the time“, he was greeted by his secret friend.

The calm voice felt good in Nick’s ears after all that yelling. He couldn’t wait to enjoy a quiet moment.

“Yeah, it’s been a while“, he said quietly. He was so tired. “I don’t know what day it is.“

James gave him a pitiful look. “I’m sorry for your loss.“

Nick needed a second to get him because he thought about Arthur at first.

“Oh, Kitty“, he then produced. He immediately felt weighted down. “It’s such a tragedy…“

“Come, I fix you a drink.“

Nick followed James into the living room that by now felt like the inner sanctum of the house and fell into some comfy padding of an old fashioned piece of furniture. It looked like this house never got a beautification. It wasn’t ugly though, only unusual, just like James himself, who now came back with a drink for him.

He handed it out with a thoughtful expression. “I didn’t expect you to tell me every single detail in your life, but…you never mentioned her…why?“

Nick sighed and clutched the very welcome glass.

“Because I didn’t…think of her. I never wanted to marry her.“ He shook his head. “It all happened so fast. Is she really dead?“

Nick didn’t notice the flicker in James’ eyes. “Yes, certainly.“

His voice turned oddly cold, Nick found. Then he thought it was just the message that made it sound cold.

Nick stroked the glass with his thumb, unable to decided whether he should start drinking or not.

“She didn’t deserve this…“, he brought out. “She was…a bit bonkers, but a good girl.“

His throat was getting dry, so he finally took a sip.

“And you thought she would save you from your sins?“, James asked and Nick lifted his head, questioning.

James shrugged. “Well, having a wife is well accepted instead of having two male lovers at once.“

Nick eagerly shook his head. “Oh, god no…I didn’t want to marry her…she made me…“. He paused. “It really isn’t a good story.“

“I supposed that something was off“, James offered. “The way you looked at her.“

Nick eyed him. “You were there?“

James made an innocent face. “Biggest event of the week, couldn’t miss it.“

Nick smiled a bit. Still, the truth got caught somewhere between his teeth and he gulped it back down, leaving uncomfortable silence.

“Nick, i’m sure you wouldn’t be here if you wouldn’t trust me…“

Nick shortly nodded. “Yes.“

“Do you want another?“, James pointed at his glass and Nick was surprised to see it was empty. When did that happen?

He gave it to the other man and used the pause to think this over. He was here for Arthur. But it wouldn’t make sense without Kitty’s story. And if he believed that James would easily fall for any gossip about him, he would indeed not be here. James was right.

“Relax, Nick. You have all the time you need to tell me. We could talk about something else, if you want“, James offered.

Nick thankfully received the new drink.

“No…I have to get this over with…It’s driving me insane.“ He pushed himself forward. “The night Richard Bates died…I was there…I spent the night with Kitty.“

“Didn’t he die in the shop?“, James asked and Nick’s face lit up.

“Right…now that you say it…but Kitty believed I did it….for her…as if I needed to kill her husband to marry her.“ He took another sip of liquid courage. “She threatened me she’d tell everyone that I killed him if I didn’t marry her, so I proposed.“

“What a nice girl“, James commented.

“She was okay apart from that“, Nick insisted. “Killing her this way…who could do that?“

“I suppose you weren’t anywhere near her that special night?“, James asked nonchalantly.

“No! I’m glad I wasn’t!“, Nick blurted out. “Do you believe me?“

James looked him in the eyes. “Yes, I believe you.“

Nick calmed down. He emptied his drink and put the glass on the table.

“Seems like despite all the tragedy you’re the lucky one this time. No accusations and no forced marriage…you’re still free.“

Nick rested his head in his hands. “I know what you mean…I’m glad you believe me…I don’t believe it myself…everything that happens to me….“

“You had a rough time, I can see. I’m glad I can help.“

“It feels so good to have a friendly conversation for once…The last few days were…I don’t know how long I can keep this up.“ Nick’s eyes began to water.

“Did you have a fight? Because you proposed? Or because she…went on holiday?“

“It’s a little bit of both“, Nick replied. His voice was rasping. “Morrie tries to convince me that I saw something….or that I’m somehow involved in it…that I just can’t remember…or refuse to tell him….he’ll maybe get over it…but Arthur…“. He sighed. “I really screwed it up with him.“

“Does he believe it was you?“

Nick sadly shook his head. “He was near Kitty when she….“

Another not really good story. But it wouldn’t help to chicken out now, right?

“We had a plan to save me from the marriage. Arthur wanted to drug her with Oblivion, so she would forget the entire incident. And when I read that she….I thought…“ Nick gulped.

“It was so easy, you know? Blaming the Downer…He quickly convinced me I was wrong…but the damage was already done…I don’t know if he’ll ever talk to me again.“

Nick continued to stare at the table.

“What’s worse, for a while I was relieved…that it would be only me and Morrie again…that all this mess would be over.“

“So, you’re closer to a decision?“, James carefully asked.

“No, not at all!“, Nick blurted out. “Actually, I confessed my love to him…for the first time…and I did this at the worst possible moment! I should’ve said it before…we had so many nice moments together…they would’ve been perfect…and now it didn’t even sound like I mean it. What’s wrong with me? I used to trust people! I used to be good with words!“

“You were stressed out, Nick. You needed answers and it’s quite unusual to trust Downers“, James soothed him.

“You would trust him too if you knew him…I should’ve known better. What am I supposed to do now?“

“The best option is to apologize.“

“I tried! But it sounded so lame! I think he needs some time for himself now….but how much? I’m afraid he’ll move on without me.“

“You don’t have to be far away to give him some space. You could wait for him to make the first step, but stay close.“

“Yeah…but Morrie waits for me too…I left him in a hurry to blame Arthur.“

“I agree it would be easier if Arthur was your only love, but surely there’s a way to spend a few more hours for him.“

Nick nodded slowly. “I could wait in my suite. You know, in the underground.“

James’ face lit up a bit. “Is that where your Downer is hiding?“

Nick was about to say “yes“ but thought twice. “He’s sometimes there.“

“He’s a smart man“, James stated.

“He is“, Nick agreed, slightly swooning. “It’s amazing what he can do to survive. It was so unfair of me to treat him like that.“ He slumped back down.

“It’s not over yet, Nick…you can overcome this fight, and your relationship will be closer than before.“

Nick gave him a hopeful look. “You think so?“

“Certainly. Whenever you overcome hardships you will grow stronger together. Isn’t it the same with Morrie and you?“

Nick ruffled his hair. “I don’t know…we had a lot of fights and we broke up.“

“But you’re back together.“

“Right…“

“And Morrie knows what he got.“

Nick chuckled. “The poor man.“

“Anyway, this works for every relationship, by the way.“

“Virgil and me…“

“For example. Stray strong, Nick. Fights are completely normal. The way you deal with them shows what you really feel.“

“Okay…“ Nick took a deep breath. “And what if he doesn’t give me a second chance?“

“Well…then you know what he feels…and you can go back into Morrie’s arms.“

“Yeah…“ Nick sat up, stretching himself. “I think…I’m ready…“

“I’m glad I could cheer you up“, James said. “But before you leave…may I ask you a question?“

“Sure“, Nick smiled at him.

“About Morrie’s concerns….why is he so certain that you are involved in the case? Is there anything you remember? Anything that bothers you?“ James looked at him and his expression lacked the sense of urge that would’ve made Nick shy away.

Nick closed his eyes.

“I don’t know…Sometimes I see things…I think they’re only nightmares.“ He pointed at the glass. “Would you mind?“

“Oh, not at all“, James poured him another drink. “I’m relieved you like the brand. A star like you must’ve tasted the best of the town already.“

“This is easily one of the best“, Nick answered bemused. „I wonder where you get it.“

“My secret source“, James answered smiling.

Nick smiled back.

“Oh James, everything is so complicated in my life! I wish we could meet somewhere else, in public even, but if Morrie saw us…“

“You think he’ll be suspicious?“

“Yeah, definitely! Also Arthur, especially now!“ Nick shook his head. “I’m always hiding.“

“We could find a way…I wouldn’t give up on that yet…See, it’s not all your fault. You’re famous. If Morrie or Arthur wouldn’t see us, dozens of other eyes would.“

“Right…it’s so hard to be a god. Everyone needs me.“

“You have a lot to give.“

“Yeah…but sometimes I just need to recharge.“

“It’s fine, Nick. You can always come by.“

Nick sipped his drink. “That’s good“, he whispered. “Where were we?“

“We were talking about nightmares“, James said apologetically.

“Oh…great…uh…yeah, It think it’s nothing more than that. I’ve been wandering around at night, long before you found me and that’s what I’m dreaming about.“

James mused. “Last time we met, you were outside at night. Do you recall?“

“Sure, but….that was something else, trust me! I didn’t feel alright and I needed to get away for a while.“

“Seems to me that you rather like the night. That you seek comfort in it.“

“Well…no one is staring at me…and it is as cold as I feel inside…“. He smiled unsurely.

“Perhaps you can learn to like these dreams and see them as a refuge too?“

“To…like them?“

“Yes. Look, if you try to ignore them, they would only make you more afraid. If you embrace them instead, you have the chance to defeat them, if they mean to scare you. If they don’t mean to scare you, then there’s nothing to worry about. They might have a secret, but what if it’s nothing bad?“

“I never saw it this way…“

“Nightmares can be caused by many reasons. Could be that you’re stressed out by the band, they’re perhaps watching you if you behave.“

Nick chuckled. “We’re quite relaxed, actually…I really wonder what they’re thinking about all the chaos I’m causing. I just hope they don’t mind.“

“They never complained?“

“No.“

“They’re decent Wellies, unlike you“, James said smirking. “As long as they have their Joy, why would they complain?“

“Maybe…“ Nick ran a hand through his hair.

“If your life wears you down, you can still make a decision.“

Nick sighed. “I can’t…“

“I didn’t mean to force it. If you feel like it, go see Arthur and prove him your love. It’s still possible that the dreams go away after a while.“

“Okay…“ Nick stretched himself again. “Thank you.“

“Anytime, Nick“, James said in a soft voice.

Later, he led him through the corridor to the entrance door, but before Nick left, he felt like he was missing something. Eyeing James, he quickly noticed and wrapped his arms around the other man. He just now realized how much he loved the smell of Blackberry Joy. Pressing his head against James’ neck, he sucked in the scent. James held him all the time.

“Are you sure you want to leave?“, he asked him quietly.

“Yeah…I must…Arthur…“, Nick stuttered, a little bit high from the amazing scent. He let go and James opened the door for him.

Later in his tunnel suite, he found the box of chocolates that he had given Arthur. It was untouched. It was possible that Arthur simply didn’t like them, or that he didn’t have the time yet, but still it was a sad look Nick didn’t want to see. He would’ve like to eat them himself now, but a present was a present. Nick slapped them onto the counter and sat down on his bed.

Looking around, he wondered what to do with himself now. Knocking at Arthur’s door wasn’t an option, sadly. But waiting in utter silence wasn’t either. He grabbed a guitar, the brightly colored one he used it for special occasions and it’s look cheered him up a little. After all, he had never used the tunnel’s vibes for inspiration as he had planned to. Lying on his bed, he listened to his own melody and his mind started to wander.

He fell silent when a tall man appeared at the entrance to his suite.

“You’re still here“, his visitor said, avoiding his gaze.

“Sure“, Nick answered, giving him a smile.

The other man looked like he was at the edge of running away.

Nick put the guitar aside. “You want to sit down?“, he offered and gestured at the bed.

Arthur let out a breath. “You wouldn’t try to kill me again, won’t you?“

Nick’s smile froze.

“Arthur, trust me, I didn’t want to hurt you. I was upset and I’m sorry that I scared you.“

“Yeah…upset indeed. About a bloody lie.“ His voice turned bitter and he still didn’t look at Nick, who felt a pang of shame in his chest.

“I…I can’t believe it myself. Somehow, there was still a rest of doubt in me. But now I see how wrong I was! I’m sorry, I’ll never think any bullshit about you again!“, Nick begged.

Arthur rather looked at something he saw in his mind.

“You had the same look in your eyes…just like every Wellie that attacked me…“

“I swear I didn’t want to!.“

“The things you said…you called me a coward.“

“Oh Arthur, you’re the bravest man I know! Everything you went through! You know I admire you for this, for your strength and your courage! I regret what i said! Please, give me a chance!“

Arthur nervously scratched his arm. It was the most awful silence Nick had ever experienced until the other man finally spoke again.

“You said something…something nice too….I didn’t mean to ignore it like that…I just didn’t know what to do…“

“Did you like it?“, Nick asked softly, feeling goosebumps all over his skin.

Arthur curled his fingers into the cloth of his trousers.

“Yes, very much…“

Nick used his silkiest voice to ask: “You mind if I say it again?“

Arthur turned to face him. His expression was still afraid.

“I love you, Arthur“, Nick purred, watching the effect it had on the other man’s face. It changed multiple expressions until it remained with a helpless smile and red cheeks.

Nick made another gesture, and this time Arthur awkwardly walked over to him and sat down.

“I think we should kiss now, what do you think?“, Nick whispered. Arthur answered by coming closer.

They drew out their reunion kiss.

“I missed you, Nick“, Arthur sighed while running his hands along Nick’s upper body.

“I’m glad“, Nick purred.

“All these days…and all I had of you was…where is it?“ Did we crush it?“

Arthur started to search the bed. Nick, slightly disappointed, watched him.

“Do you mean the chocolate?“

“Yes, I thought I left it here.“

“I put it away. It’s fine if you don’t want it.“

“But I love it! I just…I didn’t want to eat it alone…It’s probably dumb.“ Arthur shrugged.

“No, it’s not“, Nick assured him and got up to grab the box from the counter. “You may open it now, my love“, he whispered and handed it over to the other man, who couldn’t help but to grin sheepishly.

The neatly arranged chocolates looked delicious. Arthur glanced at Nick as if he didn’t know how to eat them. Nick was willing to help. He lifted up a piece and let it dangle in front of his lover’s face.

Arthur carefully accepted it with his teeth.

Nick then waited, leaning against his shoulders.

“How is it?“

Arthur relished it with closed eyes. “It’s…so good. Just try it yourself.“

Nick followed the invitation. They weren’t so special to him, but he saw their potential.

He put another one in his hand and served it Arthur.

The other man understood and ate it out of his hand, slightly tickling Nick’s skin. Excited, Nick freed his arm from his jacket and shirt to offer his lover chocolate on it. Arthur looked surprised at first, then he gently held Nick’s arm in his hands to steady him while he tasted the offering. When he let go, Nick lay down and placed a piece on his belly.

Arthur caressed the spot around it with his fingers, teasing Nick, who already felt the excitement in a far lower region. Then he touched the skin with his tongue, not too eager to get this over with. He spoiled Nick with kisses, felt how his lover’s breath fastened and how his belly moved up and down. When he finally took the chocolate, it had already melted a little, and Arthur licked the rest from Nick’s aroused body. Arthur couldn’t help but to take a bite of the other man who let out a moan. Working up to his chest, he muttered: “You’re tasty…“

Nick now busied himself with returning kisses and freeing Arthur from his clothes. Arthur made Nick feel how hungry he was, and Nick rather begged for more.

In the end, both were relieved to hold the other one in his arms again.

“Nick, I love you“, Arthur finally whispered.

“Yeah, you do“, Nick purred happily.

“This is incredible, I mean, you and me…“

Nick kissed him again. “You better believe it, Arthur.“

The so-called Downer looked happier than ever. There was a spark in his eyes that Nick couldn’t stop marveling at.

“Nick, why…“ Arthur began, then took a breath to steady his voice. “Why don’t we get us a better life?“ He eyed Nick, excited and begging. Nick was curious about where this was going.

“What are you up to?“

“Well, I have a letter of transit, and I bet you have one! We could get to the train station in the Parade and leave!“

“Leave?“, Nick was puzzled. “Where?“

“Well, to the mainland? To another country?“, Arthur shrugged nervously. "Who cares, it doesn’t matter! Anything would be better than this!“

“But Arthur…this is a good place.“

“Nick…I’m telling you this because I trust you. This town is not a happy place. It’s falling apart. I can see it every day. We’re in serious danger here and it’s getting worse.“

“What’s getting worse?“

Arthur gave him an apologetic look.

“Look…you should see it for yourself or else you won’t believe me.“

Nick shook his head. “I don’t understand…What do you want me to see?“

“Well…the plague, for example.“

Nick turned pale.

“Nick, trust me! Wellington Wells is not as beautiful as Joy tells you! I know it, I’ve seen it! If you tried…an hour without Joy, you would understand.“

“An hour without Joy?“ Nick sat up. “Arthur, do you know what you’re talking about?“

“I know, but it’s hard to explain! I just want to leave this mess with you!“

“But..but… I have my entire life here! My band, my friends, my fans…Outside, I’m a nobody!“

„You still have your talent! You could be an even greater star on the mainland! Just imagine how many people you could reach!“

“I…I’m glad you have so much trust in my talent, but I still need a manager, and the best in the world is the one I have here.“

“You just need to play one of your songs and managers would queue up to work for you!“

Nick eyed his lover, who still looked pleading.

“Arthur, is this a joke I’m not getting?“

“No, Nick, I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t serious! I want to spend the rest of my life with you! I know it sounds crazy but I really want to do this!“

“Why not living here? We’re having a good life so far.“

“Nick, I’m having no life at all! I’m living like a rat!“ Arthur waved his arms at the tunnel.

“You have a job and a house!“

“But I’m always in danger, remember?“

“You could take Joy sometimes…“

“No, I can’t! That’s the point! I’ve seen the truth and I don’t want to live a lie again!“, Arthur urged him and Nick backed away.

“We should wait…think this through…perhaps you’ll learn to like the town again.“

“No, Nick, that’s impossible. If you stopped taking Joy, you wouldn’t like the town either.“

“But I can’t just go! Give me some time to think!“, Nick now begged.

“How long, Nick? Will you vanish for another couple of days? Do you think I like that life? I never know when I’ll see you again, or if at all!“

“Arthur…“

“Really, do you think I like it here? You never invite me at your place, you never let me hide there! It’s like you don’t want me around!“

“I want you around! But the band…“

“Yeah, the band can live in your house, but not me! Why do they even life in your house now?“

“Because it’s making things easier! We have no cars…!“

“If I was one of your girlfriends, you would’ve introduced me to them already, told them they had to deal with me now because you loved me!“ He almost spat the last words. “But you never did! You treat me like a stranger around them!“

Nick felt goosebumps all over his body. Not the good sort this time. Arthur reminded him of one of his wives.

“Calm down, please! We can sort this out!“

“How long?“

“I don’t know….a few days? Damnit, Arthur, a boyfriend would be enough of a surprise, but a Downer…“

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to tell them that! In fact, it would be easier to tell them you need your house for yourself again!“

“You want me to kick them out?“

“Just tell them you have a relationship and need some space!“

“One day after Kitty died?“

“You never wanted her in the first place!“

“Yeah, but it’s still very suspicious! Everyone is waiting for me to come out as a killer and I don’t want to take that risk!“

“So, that’s it? You have no place for your lover because you have to save your reputation and your band can’t be expected to walk a few feet to their homes?“

“Arthur!“, Nick gasped. “What is this? I don’t understand!“

“Think about what you’re doing to me, Nick! Would any girl let you treat her that way?“

“I never told you not to take Joy…I love you anyway…but I can’t make others like you.“

“You already did somehow. The band likes me, remember?“

“Yeah, well…“

“You’re good with words. You’ll find an explanation.“

“No, Arthur, I can’t do this…I haven’t seen them for ages and I don’t want to disappoint them just yet.“ At Arthur’s look he added: “They wouldn’t understand!“

“So you won’t even try?“

“Arthur, this is crazy, just think about it!“

“I had a lot of time to think about it! All these lonely days without you!“

“It wouldn’t be much different! I have to do my job! I can’t be there every hour to please you! You don’t know how long it takes to record something that isn’t utter crap!“

„It would be very different, because I could spend the nights with you, the morning hours and whenever you’re home! And believe it or not, I want to please you too!“

“I see you whenever I can…“

“That’s also risky, coming down here. The Bobbies could catch you.“

“I know my way around them, I’ll be fine.“

“So everything’s the way you want?“, Arthur flared up. “Did you ever plan to get me into your life?“

“Of course I did!“, Nick helplessly replied.

“How?“

Nick was speechless. The silence dragged him down and his eyes burned.

“I came here to apologize, and you treat me like shit!“ He left the bed. “You better think about what you’re doing to me!“, were his last words before he ran out.

#we happy few #whf #wehappyfew #nick lightbearer #whfarthurhastings #nickxarthur #foggyjack #whfnick #whf nick #whfarthur #whf arthur #whf foggy jack

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vvakarians · 4 years

Text

World lore and Arc 1 Character lore from Melrose: City of Monsters! This world is a story that myself and my boyfriend @thecoffeerain

Maxime and Victor belong to my boyfriend!

Charlie’s Twitter | Charlie’s P a t r e o n

Info under the cut!

ABOUT MELROSE: CITY OF MONSTERS

Melrose is a city just south of New York City in America, it’s a small town that is unassuming at first but is filled with dark secrets. Vampires, witches, werewolves, and humans exist together, though in a vaguely dysfunctional way. The government broke the news about vampires and werewolves only five years previous, though they’ve lived in society for far longer than that. At this point people are getting used to them living among the human population, but knowledge about magic is still kept under wraps. Vampirism, lycanthropy, and magic comes from a disease that is both highly contagious and genetic. Once you have it, you have it for life, eternal or not.This information is primarily for the first arc. MC information will be updated with each arc.

MAIN CHARACTERS OF MELROSE: CITY OF MONSTERS

Father Charles ‘Charlie’ Larousse-Robineau

Pronouns: They/them

Occupation: ‘Priest’

Bloodline: Vampire, former Human, Crowley Lineage

Maker: Belladonna Crowley, the Duchess

Origin: New Orleans, Louisiana, USA

Love Interest: Victor Talbot

Father Robineau is a charming and well traveled individual, having been born in the 1860’s to a fur merchant and his musician wife. A tragedy struck the family in the early 1880’s when Charlie’s father snapped after a fight between them, and he supposedly killed both Charlie’s younger brother Jean Marie, as well as their mother, brutally with an axe. Charlie barely got out alive, killing their father in self defense. After getting medical attention they fled to England, hoping that their extended family would take them in.When they didn’t, Charlie settled in Whitechapel, hired by a brothel to be a charlatan, medic, and overall fluffer for the girls there. It is there where they fell in love with a woman named Lilith Brown, or Lily, as she preferred. They were best friends and messed around with each other, but Lily turned their courtship down. Sad but understanding, Charlie continued to work as a charlatan, only to watch as their friends would begin dying one by one. People suspected Jack the Ripper and would lend no help to the people affected. As we know, the killer was not caught, and unfortunately one of the last to be taken would be Lily.Whether it was Jack, or a copycat, Charlie was determined to figure out who it was. Driven near mad by grief, Charlie called out to anything that would listen while attending the autopsy of Lily. Who would show up would not be their savior, but their Devil. A woman calling herself the Duchess. She promised Charlie power to find the person who harmed their friends in exchange for a favor at a later date. Charlie was then sacrificed on an altar far below Whitechapel, but to what goddess or entity, they did not know. All they know is that they were opened up much like the corpses on the autopsy tables in the morgue, and then drained of all blood, turned into a bloodthirsty monster. Then abandoned on the streets. After becoming feral and accidentally slaying two people, Charlie turned themself in, though they were quickly turned over to the Vampiric Council of the United Kingdom. This is where they were rehabilitated by Delilah Ainsworth and her husband Aegis Stone, then allowed to return to the USA. Though it was still hard to find a food source and the only thing they could think of to get a large group, but not have to worry about too many people finding out -- was build a congregation. This of course backfired and they made more of a cult than anything, and one of their cult members developed an unhealthy obsession with them. His name was Cedric.When Charlie saw what they had created and tried to disband the cult, Cedric intervened, but a few weeks afterwards Charlie would poison his blood supply with silver, enabling them to flee. After that they never saw Cedric again and would go on to serve in World War II before settling down in Melrose in the 1940’s, creating the cathedral they now work in, St Januarius’, but making sure that a cult never happens again. Thankfully with blood bags it’s become less of an issue.Their life changes though when a man named Victor walks into their church…

Victor Talbot

Pronouns: He/him or they/them

Occupation: Sex worker / Artist / Cat Wrangler

Origin: Sussex, England, United Kingdom

Love Interest: Charlie Robineau

Victor is the only child born to a surgeon and an art lecturer. He spent quite a bit of time with his mother who taught him all about Hinduism and the ways of their culture. As a child and throughout his school life he was bullied for being larger than his peers; this made him quite shy and destroyed his self esteem. He did find a love of dance though when he would watch Bollywood films with his mother at home, and then at school he got involved in modern dance. Though it was in secret, as he did not want his peers to bully him further. As he kept at it, Victor lost weight and began eating better, becoming how he’s seen today. Which of course gained him attention and popularity where there was none before.

While studying medicine, as his father had proclaimed he would as all of the men of his family had, Victor found that he could help people by giving them the medicine they needed but couldn’t necessarily afford. He then began to sell narcotics to addicts to cover the cost of the extravagant lifestyle forced upon him by his peers. A tragic accident occurred when the man he was seeing stole from his stash and OD’d, then was brought to the hospital where Victor was doing his residency. Victor did try to save his life but the man ended up dying. Of course he came clean about it to his dad, who was the chief of surgery at the hospital, but Victor’s dad told him to keep quiet about it lest he lose his job. Unfortunately, the damage was done and Victor became haunted by the loss of life at what he believed was his hands. Unable to cope with what he had caused, he began to take the pills he used to sell and became hooked. After a severe mental break having spent too many hours on shift he was suspended and dismissed from the program, now having to deal with being haunted continuously with what he’d done.

He would then fall into a drug spiral where he stole his father’s script pad, implicating him in his stealing, which got his father suspended. During this time he began taking street drugs and getting involved in the party scene, all to whisk him away from the trauma he suffered. This cycle only stopped when a tragedy happened for a second time. Another man he had been seeing died while they were together, and he woke up to his lifeless body in the bed. It’s here that Victor blacks out and does not have much memory of, only remembers waking up in the hospital and being convinced to go to rehab.

After being released and having his parents hovering over him every second of the day, he relapsed, then was cut off by his mother and father. He would then sell all of his belongings, or what he could, and bought a ticket to America where he would be picked up by the infamous Red in Melrose, New York. It would be here that he’d meet Father Robineau at the St. Januarius Cathedral…

Hazel Coldbrook

Pronouns: They/he

Occupation: Personal Assistant + Receptionist

Origin: Manhattan, New York City, New York, USA

Love Interest: Maxime St. Martin

Hazel was adopted at the age of six by a Jewish doctor and a First Nations professor of linguistics at one of the universities in New York. He was put into the system after his father lost custody following a terrible car accident that killed his mother. He did have two younger siblings that were sent to different homes, he never saw them afterward. Hazel did have an older adopted sister named Morgan, who was often cruel and rude to him. She got him into a lot of trouble and often got him bullied by other children at school, more than he already was. It didn’t help that he was starting to have issues seeing and hearing things, on top of paranoid delusions.

His parents did their best to set him up as much as they could, and he did get better eventually. Therapy and medication got him on the right track, though his night terrors do plague him still. Once he went away to college, Morgan was cut off from the family around the same time after she was arrested for violent breaking and entering. They didn’t see her for a while after that, though at one point she did make a brief appearance. Morgan chased after him and one night broke into his dorms while he was with his girlfriend, Willow. She was killed after trying to wrestle Morgan away from him, and he was bitten by Morgan. Thankfully, he survived, but he did find out that his sister had been turned into a vampire.

Charlie found him in the dorm shortly after the attack, having gone hunting during a blood bag shortage. They took him to the hospital and then offered him a job as a PA at their church, helping transfer all of his college credit over to the local community college where he is now studying psychology and theology. During his time in Melrose though, he begins attending drag performances at a local club and comes upon a gorgeous drag queen...

Maxime St. Martin / Enzée Bytten

Pronouns: He/him (She/her, in drag)

Occupation: Club Owner/Drag Queen

Bloodline: Vampire, former human, Seraphim Lineage

Maker: Gabriel

Origin: Saint Martin d'Oydes en Ariège Pyrénées, France

Love Interest: Hazel Coldbrook

Maxime was born in a small, self contained village where he did not leave much until his late teens. Unfortunately, the reason why he left was not a matter of simply being sick of the small village life, it was due to a much darker purpose. A man named Gabriel had come to the village and infected the residents with vampirism, causing them all to turn on each other night by night. This was but one prong in a grand scheme to build an entire army of vampiric soldiers indoctrinated with Gabriel’s radical beliefs about humans and vampires. Maxime --being young and impressionable-- followed his Maker in his footsteps, having a sort of love for him that one could only have for a Maker.

As the decades went on, Maxime would turn people he met and attempt to sway them to their side of things, but became infatuated with human culture as he went. Eventually he saw the error of his Maker’s ways and began planning a rebellion against Gabriel. Maxime even managed to convince a human soldier who he had picked up during World War II, who he would then turn after he would get severely injured. You could say the plan went off without a hitch, though there were many casualties and a lot of fighting.

Eventually he would move on to the states where he steadily sunk into his trauma, though he would find a club to make his own in Melrose. There he would build a reputation of being cold and calculating, but as Enzée he is warm and lively -- or rather she is.Le Syndicat is where Maxime would meet Hazel, who had just come to the bar for a drink…

VAMPIRES:

Vampirism, lycanthropy, and magic all come from a single source. Different strains of diseases that all come from one person, who thus far has been lost to history, as well as the war that led to the werewolves and vampires becoming tense with each other. Vampires come from the strain that needs blood to survive, but also an undead host. It attacks all systems aside from the nervous, and shuts most of them down. They do process blood but not in the same way that a human would food. Their waste system is completely cut off and their stomach has become oddly misshapen, different. It ‘digests’ the blood and filters it back through the body so that the vampire can use it as a source of energy when healing, keeping them young, and making sure their body doesn’t rot from the inside out due to their functions being cut off. The disease is parasitic in nature this way, but eventually becomes symbiotic. Vampires need blood to survive and can be affected by blood born illnesses, though never die. At least usually. In the cases of aggressive cancers and autoimmune disorders, it can kill the host, but it’s very rare. Those with vampirism can only be turned after being fed on, drained, and then made to drink the blood of a disease carrying host; be born as a Stillborn, or be born as a fully fledged vampire. They are ever immortal, cannot eat human food unless it has blood in it and even then they cannot eat a lot of it, though this is not the same for liquids, and every bloodline has a ‘feral’ type that is different from another. Reproduction is a bit of an unknown for vampires. There are creatures called Stillborns that are the successful offspring of a vampire and a human, or are the human offspring of a vampire when the disease becomes recessive. Almost always the disease is terminal and it kills them, then resurrects them from the ages 19-31. Scientists think this could be the peak age range for humans healthwise, which is why the disease stops their aging as well at that time. Otherwise, vampires can have offspring with other vampires, however it is unsure how. It could be that their reproduction systems come alive when with a compatible partner, but no one knows for sure and it isn’t full proof. Even so most vampires, just as they will do with humans to prevent possible Stillborns, will wear protection when with other vampires. It is whispered that there are ways a vampire and a werewolf could also have child, but seeing as one is dead and one is alive, that is skepticism at best. Vampires who are born from other vampires age very slowly until that 19-31 age range and then suddenly stop. They can of course be created when one is fed off of or drained, then made to drink the blood of a host. These vampires are called ‘newborns’ and are often very attached to their makers. They acquire a Bond, which is crucial for a newborn, though they don’t always get that treatment from their Maker. A newborn without a Bond will have issues trying to feed and they often become feral. If they do form a Bond, they will feel drawn to their Maker for decades if not for life. Some may need extra care and attention, even touch when they’ve been turned. The stage when a newborn becomes a stable vampire varies from bloodline to bloodline. Becoming feral is usually something a vampire wants to avoid. It happens when they are too hungry and have been starved of blood for too long, or sometimes when they experience very strong emotions. The form of being feral varies from bloodline to bloodline, just as it would for werewolves. When being fed off of a human will feel the pain of the bite but then a euphoria will settle, which is dangerous at times. A pheromone is also given off that makes them smell and taste amazing to a human (such as saliva and skin, this is not a reference to cannibalism lmao), which was once so they could draw in prey to better feed off of. In Melrose, vampires and werewolves live together in a tenuous harmony. Again no one really can point out why they have tension but still that thought has lived on in more traditional, and older people of both kinds. They try not to encroach on the others territory and spaces, and their councils work together along with the human government when needed. Vampires answer to the Vampiric Council of their country when a crime has been committed or they need other governmental help. Currently the hub for vampiric activity is in two parts. St. Januarius’ Cathedral, and Le Syndicat, respectively a church and a nightclub. The church is a safehouse for all werewolves, vampires, and humans , and the nightclub is well...a nightclub. One is ran by a charming but seedy priest, and the other is ran by a cold, but sweet once you worm your way into his heart.

WEREWOLVES:

Werewolves, like stated above in the vampire section, come from one large strain. There was a war a very long time ago but no one really knows that anymore, and there’s just some strain among the more traditional folks. Werewolves can be born with lycanthropy, or they can be turned; though werewolves can have offspring with humans at the normal rate unlike vampires. Their children tend to be hyperactive and need a lot of attention to keep their instincts under control, much like newborn vampires. They burn off a ton of calories and usually need to be on a high calorie diet because of this as well as high in iron, which becomes worse during a full moon. Changing in and out of their forms, whether it be bipedal or all fours, tends to burn off a lot of calories and consume a lot of energy. Werewolf kids need that extra supervision so that they don’t hurt themselves during the night, but they will learn to cope as they get older. Pain management those nights is a must, a lot of werewolves keep a well stocked medicine cabinet. Being turned into a werewolf is not as a rampant problem as people used to think, it never was. Usually they can only turn someone during a full moon when their saliva has more kick to it and is full of the lycanthropic strain, which their body has on a cycle much like a period. However, they can turn someone on the odd night but it’s usually just before or just after a full moon, and they will not get the chance to turn someone during a full moon that time around. Werewolves also often experience PMS like symptoms close to the full moon, no matter what gender they are.

Their hair grows very thick and fast, usually covering their entire body in a peach fuzz and growing more prominent on their arms, chest, pubic area, back, head, etc. Sometimes the back of their hands and feet as well. They see exceptionally well in the dark, usually have the speed and strength to rival vampires, and are always on the taller side. Though there are some exceptions, especially for human born wolves, or those turned into one. Aging is slow for them, some can live up to three hundred years before they pass on. Werewolf society usually comes in the form of a pack, designating an Alpha and Betas (usually two to three) in their own way and coming to them for advice as well as governing matters. They have their own council and converse with the human or vampire government if needed. How they govern is really up to them however, just as it is for vampires. In Melrose there are smaller packs everywhere, and a bigger one out on the edge of town. This pack has recently elected (through a physical challenge of the previous Alpha) Dante Kāne as their Alpha, and he has two Betas : Serj Allgood, and Ty Hacon. The previous Alpha, a man named Gunner, is a very traditional man who put into practice not so great things (drug running, not so safe sex work, etc) but Dante is slowly trying to ease the pack into doing better things.

MAGIC:

Magic is an inherited trait, usually through a distant tie to the strain that gave the world vampirism and lycanthropy, or it is learned. Witches can be born to any human, werewolf, or vampire; though most humans still believe magic to not be real. It can also come in the form of anything, blood magic, rituals, soothsaying, fortune telling, necromancy, green magic, etc. It all exists all at once. Some believe in gods, some don’t, it’s all up to the person.

#vampire #werewolf #fantasy #melrose

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boarix · 4 years

Text

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XVIII

Lighthouse

Trigger warnings: canon violence/language/gun, alcohol and drug use. Mature/sexual content - not explicit

Bloody Mess warning!

Please Enjoy!

Marie stood in the doorway, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. After about five minutes or so, she began tapping her foot in a staccato of irritation, “Did you want something or not? I’m very busy.”

Atom’s Assassin didn’t bother to turn around, “You are massing in Crater House, yes? We had agreed to wait.”

“My followers are impatient.” Despite not having been invited, she briskly walked around the chair the ghoul was lounging in to fold her arms and glare down at them, “This is taking too long. You are taking too long.”

Infamy’s leader was toying with their favorite weapon: a combat knife with a serrated, wicked-looking blade. Flipping it around the back of their hand and thumb with remarkable speed, they locked eyes with her, “You have no followers. Those with you follow Atom. Atom rewards patience.”

“Yes, well, while you sit here and patiently wait for this church’s roof to cave in, my followers and I will take back Kingsport Lighthouse!”

“You will be annihilated.”

Anger caused her to react without thinking; swatting the knife out of the ghoul’s hand and sending it spinning to a dark corner. In the space of a heartbeat the ghoul was out of their chair and lashing out with a backhand that sent the young woman crashing to the floor.

“You will bring those Children back to this church. You will all wait.”

As the glowing one moved to retrieve the knife, their radiance illuminated the room which revealed a large number of ferals, standing perfectly still, in arcing rows around the chair. Marie hadn’t even noticed their presence and felt the whole thing to be incredibly unnerving.

“But, what are we waiting for?!”

Turning, the ghoul went to the doorway just as an Infamy runner stepped through. There was a brief, whispered conversation before Atom’s Assassin turned back to her.

Cackling madly, they brandished their knife and spun in a circle, “They are here! Ahahaa!”

“Who? What’s happening?!”

The mad ghoul roughly pulled Marie to her feet and shook her, “It won’t be long now; the Pretender’s doom has arrived in the Commonwealth!”

“Did you make those pants?”

Shaun looked up from the workbench, “Yeah why, are they weird?”

“No, I like the color. Green is a good color on you. They look like they fit nice…”

He favored her with an indulgent smile, “Grandma, do you want me to make you a pair of green slacks?”

“Oh ho, not pants but slacks?” Her smile broadened when he rolled his eyes, “Yes, please make me a pair of slacks.”

“Are you coming back home after ghoul training?”

Wraith didn’t answer at first. She wanted to but since she had no idea how long learning to influence feral ghouls would take, let alone if she was even capable, she didn’t want to make promises she couldn’t keep.

She had intended the past week to be a vacation of sorts, but found herself elbow deep in reports and meetings instead. In addition to the seemingly random attacks, Infamy had taken to raising radiation levels in some of the southern settlements.

She also spent as much time as possible with Danse; helping Curie with his rehab and his occasional skips in memory. Now, with it being her last day, she was spending it with Shaun and found that she really didn’t want to leave at all.

“Oh, honey… I don’t know… There are too many variables to give you a definitive answer.”

“You’re using lawyer-general speak again,” He stuck his lip out and nodded, “I could go with you…”

“No. Absolutely not.”

His caramel complexion couldn’t hide his flush, “Why not. Is it because I couldn’t defeat Infamy? Do you think that I’ll be a burden?” He had balled up his fists, “I know I screwed that up but…”

“I don’t find you to be burdensome. You didn’t screw anything up! I need you to stay and help Mac…”

“That’s brahmin shit! That’s what YOU TELL LITTLE KIDS WHEN THEY WANT TO HELP YOU BUT YOU THINK THEY’LL BE IN THE WAY!” When Wraith didn’t cut him off and start yelling back he lost some of his momentum, “I’m sorry I let Danse and RJ get hurt!”

“You three were a team. Not one of you failed to fulfill… ugh… Okay, no more lawyer speak.” She got up from her stool, “I can’t lose you. And it’s not just you! I’m keeping Mac, Danse… I’m being completely selfish, I know… If I can keep all you strong fighters together, you will be able to keep each other safe, when I’m… gone.”

“Are you going to let the Valentines leave?” Her honesty had taken the wind out of his anger, “I’m surprised you let Grandpa John go.”

She furrowed her brow, “For the last time; I’m not a tyrant! I’m not going to hold innocent people against their will! I want them to stay and I already made my case, plus Curie wants to study Ellie’s pregnancy… wait… Grandpa John?”

Shaun’s blush deepened, “Cause you two… you know… he asked you to marry him. What the heck am I supposed to call him?!”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Are you going to start calling Mac ‘grandpa’ too?”

“No, that’s weird.”

She nodded after a couple seconds of rapid blinking, “Okay, I guess that tracks.”

MacCready opened the door and stuck his head through, “Hey guys, Danse, Curie, the Valentines and dinner are here so stop yelling at each other and come in the house.”

“Technically speaking, RJ, the workshop is still in the house.”

“Who’s ‘Dinner’, they sound nice.”

MacCready sighed and slumped his shoulders, “Hilarious. You two done?”

“Did Dinner walk here on their own?”

Shaun started giggling, “How many legs do they have?”

Dinner was very nice and the conversation pleasant. Although space was limited the group squeezed together amicably and Valentine, a wonderful story teller, was regaling them with child-friendly versions of the behemoth and alien artifact cases.

“… climb the whole way up with me tied to her back! Of course, I told her she’d do just as well building castles in the air…”

“Mr. Colonel Garvey Minuteman has a castle! He said that grandma Wraith fought a monster there this one time and it was really big!” Duncan threw his arms out wide, knocking his cup off the table. His father neatly caught it however, and not even a drop was spilt. His excitement turned to dismay at the near loss of juice and he hung his head, “Sorry, daddy.”

MacCready tousled his hair, “Don’t be sad, Dunk. Spilt drink never hurt anybody; just work on your aim.”

“I still say I could’ve pulled us up and out with no problem.”

Valentine smiled and shook his head at her, “You are aware of a distinction between could and should.”

Wraith stuck her lip out in much the same way Shaun had, “You never know unless you try.”

“I tried cheese today!” Duncan’s confidence had returned.

Danse grimaced, “You’re a braver man than I. The smell reminds me of the training mats in the Citadel…”

As Valentine finished his tale, with he the unfortunate ending of Imogene, Curie leaned slightly forward and her eyes tracked his mouth with a hungry intensity.

“And this alien artifact, where has it gone?”

“Well… I’m not sure, actually. I was in and out at the time.”

“It’s put away.” There was a warning edge to Wraith’s voice. “I’d have destroyed it if I could.”

“Oh, but why? Surly this item would be of great use, not only to the scientific community, but to the studies of medical…”

“No!” Wraith gentled her tone, “No, Baby Bird. It is evil and cannot be used for anything but.”

“It’s like the One Ring!” Shaun deliberately directed his comment at MacCready.

“Oh, jeez. Not you too! I’m surrounded by nerds.”

“What’s this now?”

“Oh, Danse, it’s from this great book grandpa John let me borrow. You hav’ta read it!”

MacCready smirked, “Yeah, just when you’re finally starting to feel better…”

Shaun took the snide remark rather personally and so his retort had real venom, “You’re face looks better, now that you shaved that beard!”

Danse’s eyes snapped up to lock with the sniper’s, “You grew a beard? A full beard?”

“Yeah, so what?” His shrug was meant to be nonchalant.

Danse expression was unreadable, “Nothing, just surprised.”

“You’re surprised that I grew a beard? I’ve had a goatee…”

“Surprised that you’re physically capable of growing more than those rat whiskers you normally sport.”

Normally such banter would quickly degrade into actual bickering, but after giving Danse the One Finger Salute, (making sure Duncan didn’t see) MacCready laughed and flashed a bright smile.

After dinner, the group settled in to play cards: the children, Danse and MacCready playing Go Fish while the other four grown-ups indulged in Euchre. After a couple of hands, Wraith began making a conscious effort to memorize the evening. She planned on using bright-spot memories like these to battle against future bouts of her berserker rage.

Acknowledging her addiction to Buffout was only a small step in combating her tendency to slide toward madness. She had publicly denied, on more than one occasion, that she was a tyrannical monster but didn’t want to fall into the trap of declaring yourself a savor to the people whose house you’re burning.

“I’m sorry I scolded you, Curie.” Wraith had followed Danse and Curie out the door and across the yard. Watching Danse use a cane made her feel all the more guilty over the decision to keep the artifact’s location secret. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like you’re a kid…”

“Ah, Madame, please don’t worry about it. Forgive me for saying so, but I feel you have been treating me as your daughter since almost the first time we met.” She arched her arms out to mimic her Miss. Nanny silhouette, “Even when I was just a metal egg.”

Wraith chuckled, “Well I guess it’s reassuring to know that I have at least some maternal instinct.” She took her by the shoulders, “I know why you would want to study it. I don’t blame you but… it has a way of… pulling at you. Shaun’s analogy wasn’t that far off.”

“I… understand. I was only, so excited! Here was a thing from another world! A… a science beyond the capabilities of the one I am only barely familiar with. One with an almost unlimited capacity for healing…” She looked at the clinic door that Danse had just struggled to open, “He gets lost in his memories and he’s still, so very thin…”

“Time, Baby Bird. With you caring for him, maybe not as much as you think.”

“It was a group effort that saved mon amour. Even Monsieur MacCready, with his Beard of Solidarity…”

“His… what?”

She laughed, “Danse had told me a story of how, when a member of your unit is badly damaged, so that they cannot shave their chins, the rest of the group stops this as well. This is done regardless of the team member’s gender, of course. Those who cannot grow a beard will sometimes shave their head… the focus on hair in this instance is rather fascinating, don’t you agree?”

Wraith felt a surge of pride in MacCready, “He takes such care with his goatee. They bicker so much I had no idea that they were that close.”

“Perhaps it is like siblings, oui?”

“How did Mac find out about the hair thing?”

“He came to me and asked what he could do. For some reason telling him the story that mon ours told me made me feel a little better. And when I saw that he was honoring him this way, why, I felt… I’m not sure how to put it…” Curie’s face lit up, “Robert is a protector, and this act was very much him shielding and bolstering my resolve. Which, is what I believe, it is meant to do.”

She could feel the heat of climax pooling below her navel even as MacCready began to shake beneath her. Bearing down as he thrust upward, the breath was driven from them both each time their hips came together.

Their lovemaking would appear a desperate, clinging act; exciting and needful as their first. Yet, it was practiced and refined with each moving in concert toward and against the other. They fought to hush their moans and gasps of pleasure, as to not disturb the sleeping household.

The realization that they might finish together heightened the anticipation of release and Wraith couldn’t stop her cry of passion at the mere thought.

Pushing himself to an almost seated position, MacCready attempted to silence both their cries by kissing her fiercely. Head swimming, he came almost as soon as he felt her muscles contract, somehow maintaining enough control to last until she finished.

Collapsing back to the bed, he kept his arms around her, holding her to him to feel that wonderful sensation of oneness that was almost better than the orgasm.

Almost.

“Shit, Wraith… That was amazing!”

“Ah ah ah, potty mouth. You’re lucky Hancock isn’t here to punish you. Not that you’d mind.”

“Not that I’d mind.”

Wraith nuzzled his chest, “I wish the three of us could be together more. Not that I mind havin’ a bedfellow at every port…”

“Every port?!” He raised his pitch in mock indignity, “Are you sleeping with jabber-jaw?”

She pushed him playfully as she rolled away, “That’s not nice!”

“Ha ha! Doesn’t change to fact that you knew who I meant!”

“I’m gonna tell Piper on you!”

After a bit of cleanup, a check on the children and MacCready settled in her arms, Wraith let her perpetual exhaustion take hold and settled into a light doze. She entered a dream almost immediately.

The cave was dark and full of the echoes of dripping water. At first random and natural, it swiftly changed to a rhythmic percussion.

Voices. No longer was it mere water. A multitude of vaguely familiar voices, chanting her name.

“Wraith! Wraith! Wraith! WRAITH!”

Then, like smaller streams coming together to form a great river, the cries became a defining torrent.

“WRAITH! WRAITH!”

It was cold! And the voices swirled around and through her. She desperately tried to ask them what they needed but when she opened her mouth, their chant poured forth.

“WRAITH! WRAITH! WRAITH!”

Then, with a flash of light, the voices ceased. The darkness returned, this time heavy and oppressively hot. There was a sizzling noise, like a burning fuse. The outline of a figure materialized from the inky black.

“Pippa…” Deacon lifted his face; glasses gone, his eyes shone, as if from within, “Pippa please…”

“Yes! Tell me! Anything. I’ll give you anything! Please, tell me what…”

“Please…” The light from his eyes spread until his whole body glowed.

“DEACON!”

“Please, don’t; you’re killing us.”

The following morning dawned grey and the clouds in the east were leaden with the promise of rain. Wraith didn’t want announce her departure to anyone who may be watching and so planned to use the settlements back, secret door. She had extended a tunnel she found in the basement of one of the original houses, so that it led further into the hills north of Sanctuary. Doubling as Bear’s tannery, it was rarely used by the community due to the odor and its true purpose known by only a select few. After saying her final goodbyes in the kitchen, Wraith, dressed as a male settler, left by the office door and walked briskly to the last northern house on the left.

“I still say this is crazy,” Bear’s deep, rasping baritone rolled like thunder from a dark corner, “like something from Astoundingly Awesome Stories.”

“It’s ‘Tales’, Bear. I thought you were just going to drop off my kit, whatcha need?”

“I never gave ya yer present. Catch!”

Wraith easily caught the object the large ghoul tossed to her. Turning it over in her hands, she gasped in appreciation of the artistry: using the pale hide of the albino deathclaw she had slain on her way to D.C, he had created a helmet in the likeness of her defeated foe. There were a pair of horns, beautifully intricate scales and a visor sporting a pair of faux eyes outlined in blackened steel.

“Oh, Bear! This is the coolest thing I think I’ve ever seen! It’s so light!”

“Light in weight but super heavy-duty, thanks in part to the ballistic weave. There’s some in the suit too.”

“You made a whole suit?!”

“Yeah, I wanna see you in it before you leave. I couldn’t do a final fitting cause it was a surprise, so haveta make sure it fits ya.”

It fit perfectly, of course. It came in four pieces: a vest, jacket, pants and over-the-knee boots. And it wore exactly like her modified wet suit; allowing her a range of motion as if she wore nothing at all.

“I suppose it’s fine.” Bear’s overly critical eye scanned her from toe to crown, “Ya lost weight again.”

“Tch. It’s your imagination. This is so awesome!”

“One more thing,” Not wanting to risk injury, he passed her a wrapped bundle. “I found this in the armory. It was a little bit beat up so I replaced the fittings for ya.”

When Wraith returned the stolen egg to a distraught deathclaw parent, she had found a gauntlet festooned with the sharp, blade-like claws of a deathclaw near the nest. Picking it up, she considered it a consolation prize, but had never once used it. Now, she slipped it over her hand and struck a dramatic fighting pose.

“How do I look?”

“Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. Start calling you General Deathclaw.”

“Ugh, don’t I have enough nicknames?” She embraced him carefully.

“There’s throwing knife pockets throughout, even in the boots, a belt with clips and compartments for extra storage and the jacket should fit over your shoulder holster… are you wearing it out?”

“I sure am! This is perfect; I’ve used Phil the Settler too many times anyway. And if anyone should happen to see me, they’ll probably think I’m a raider boss.”

“Well, I’m happy if yer happy, Wolf.”

The midmorning rain beaded on the armor and rolled into the channels that Bear had strategically crafted; wicking the water away from her eyes and face. She had greatly lamented the loss of her original custom Marine helmet to the ruin of Gunner Plaza, but found that the range of peripheral vision in this new one to be far superior then even its replacement. With the horror of the previous night’s dream forgotten and delighted by the sense of freedom, she flew through the bush unimpeded by the weather and almost completely invisible to any of the Wasteland’s people or fauna.

Just as the warehouse and fence of Wicked Shipping came into view, she felt an odd prickling sensation and instinctively dodged to her left.

A trio of feral ghouls rose from the underbrush.

“Well, Zen time’s cancelled.” She crouched slightly and waited for them to rush her.

“Not to worry, General,” The echoing and otherworldly voice belonged to a glowing one. Dressed in the humble robes of the Children of Atom, he beckoned to her from the shop roof, “come along inside, sister. They surely will not harm their friend.”

Harkness yawned and waved at her by way of greeting. He was sitting in an office chair with his feet up on the desk of one of the former Flynn brothers. “Those are some fancy duds there, General Dragon-Lady.”

She removed the helm and wrinkled her nose at him, “Nice. You two just get here?”

“Nope.” Groaning, he stood, stretched and removed a pot of steaming water from a hotplate, “We headed out from Goodneighbor as soon as I got back. Sun called ferals to him the entire way; it was pretty surreal.” He waved a mug at her, “Tea?”

“Actually, yes, thanks.” She accepted the mug and idly played with the steeper. “You said he called to them?”

“Not very many and not out loud. He says that when you’re done, he will lead them to the Glowing Sea.”

“Like a Pied Piper, huh?”

“I actually think I know that reference.”

“As do I. And I approve.”

Sun of Atom swept into the room with a floating grace that left Wraith green with envy. Almost immediately the prickling sensation returned and she outwardly flinched away from the ghoul.

“Apologies, Mother’s Chosen One; I’ll turn down my intensity.” He smiled warmly at her, “It is extremely gratifying to learn that you are so receptive. Perhaps this training will go swiftly and we each can return to our chosen paths.”

She forced a smile of her own, “I’ll bank on your optimism, but please refrain from using that title,” The forced grin had started to make her cheek twitch, “if you must be formal, please call me General Wraith. Although, I’d prefer you refer to me as…”

“Wraith the Undying?” Harkness had a stole-the-last-cookie grin, “Or maybe, Death in the Shadow?”

Determined not to let him nettle her, she continued as if he hadn’t spoke, “as Wraith. Just ‘Wraith’ is perfect. How may I call you?”

“You may use ‘brother’ or ‘Sun’ as you are comfortable, sister Wraith.” He accepted a mug from Harkness, “Will you be leaving us, brother? I know you are resistant to rads, but it may yet be too dangerous for you to stay.”

“Oh no. I’m not going anywhere. I haven’t finished fixing the fencing and besides I’m going to stay and make sure things don’t get out of hand.”

The ghoul laughed, “I am well practiced, and I can assure you that no harm will come to your friend.”

He leveled a stern gaze at Wraith, “I’m not worried about you harming anyone, Sunny.”

She wanted to argue, but considering their past encounter, felt she couldn’t blame him. Her guilt must have made a clear mark on her face because Harkness’s softened almost immediately and he brought a hand up and rubbed the back of his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m really tired and it’s made me a grouch. Are you two going to start right away? I kind of wanted to watch.”

“I’m afraid there won’t be much to see until the fence is done. I’m holding them here for now but as soon as I let go they’ll either attack or wander off.”

“What about the glowing one in the warehouse?”

“She’s pushed me away every time I’ve asked her. She is very strong and I may be unable to hold her.”

“Was she here already?”

Harkness frowned and shook his head at her, “She came yesterday; just sort of appeared in the yard outside. We left the warehouse doors open and she went in by herself.”

“I believe she heard me and was curious. And now I am feeling that she’s waiting for something.”

Harkness washed his face with his hands, “That sounds really ominous.” Letting his hands fall to his sides, he shook his head to crack his neck, “I guess I’ll go finish up the fence.”

“It’s still raining…”

“The wet fence, then.”

Wraith frowned at his back, “How many ferals are out there?”

Sun crouched over a pack in the corner and began rummaging through it, “I managed to call twelve on the way here…”

“And Our Lady of Perpetual Radiance makes thirteen.” Harkness’s shoulders sagged as he stepped out into the drizzle.

“Lucky thirteen.”

Having found what he was looking for, the ghoul waved Wraith over to him, “We can use this to sit on…” He spread a woven, padded mat on the floor, not unlike a picnic blanket, “no sense in being uncomfortable, any more than we have to.” In one fluid movement, he descended to a seated, cross-legged position and motion for her to sit across from him.

Wraith set her jacket over the back of the chair and removed her boots before joining him. “It’s been a while since I’ve meditated. Over two hundred years, in fact.”

Probably something that would have helped me. I could teach Shaun and we could make mats!

“I think that you will find this to be a very similar practice.” He looked into her eyes, his omnipresent smile warm and disarming, “Why don’t we start with your overall impression of feral ghouls. What was your first reaction?”

She frowned, “Unfortunately the first ferals I came across were some of my neighbors from before… Ms. Rosa and… and her son. They rushed me and… well… I honestly didn’t know it was them until after. Her dress… I recognized her dress.”

“I’m sure, at the time, you had no alternative.”

“I didn’t understand what they were at first. And now; as much as folks think they’re mindless… sometimes I can see a glimmer… when they pick up a teddy or even a pencil, and put it in their pocket,” She lifted her hand and closing it, made a fist around an imagined object, “I can see the flash of memory, of a time when they were people, and not monsters.”

Sun’s smile faltered but he held up his hands when, assuming she had offended him, Wraith attempted to apologize.

“It is alright, sister. I myself am no longer human and because of my glow, am considered to be a monster, even amongst non-feral ghouls. But, having witnessed horrific calamities that those still yet named human have done; I count myself instead as, not a monster, but closer to Atom. And there is a domain that I happily occupy, no matter what others deem me as.”

“If you and Infamy are closer to Atom and doing his bidding, then I say you are well within the realm of monsterhood.”

His smile went out like a candle, “I cannot abide Infamy’s tactics. Their use of ferals as fodder is unforgivable! I would rather see them mercifully slain than used as soulless killing machines.” He steepled his fingers, “When Brother Harkness came to me for help and described who you were, I took it as a sign. I came without hesitation because I knew that it was His will.”

“I can admire your conviction to your beliefs, but they aren’t mine. I’m having a real hard time with this whole plan. I question the idea of assuming the identity of a religious figure. No matter what good I might do, it’s still a lie.”

“I’m not here to convert you. But, I know that you are part of Atom’s plan.” His smile had returned, “Ask me anything. I embrace questioning my faith. After all, what credibility would it maintain if it couldn’t stand up to scrutiny?”

She narrowed her eyes, “Give me one truth.” She leaned away and folded her arms, “Let’s start there.”

“I too have traveled to the Sacred Spring, drank from its waters, seen visions provided by the Mother. Among some that were terrifying I was struck by a singular image,” He abruptly stood up and went to his pack. “I made a sketch as soon as I was able to hold a pencil.” He handed her a piece of paper as he sat down, “The Mother spoke to me; she named them ‘Harbinger’.”

The crude drawing was of an upright, humanoid deathclaw.

“The Mother showed me you.”

“Hmm. That… does look a little like my armor.” She wrestled with the fact that she had just received her gift that morning and no one apart from Bear had seen her in it.

“I left the Capital Ruins because Harkness is a good, trustworthy friend. I had a suspicion of your significance but wasn’t sure until I saw you today. You and the Harbinger are one and the same. I came here to help him, but it has been revealed that I am meant to help you!”

“Okay, Sun. I will agree that you came here with good intentions. And whether or not that,” She tapped the drawing gently, “is me, shall remain to be seen.”

“It is a place to start.” He returned his sketch to his pack and returned himself to the mat. “When you are ready, I’m going to reach out to you, and I want you to describe how it feels.”

Telling herself not to flinch, Wraith closed her eyes and nodded, “A little like a static charge; doesn’t hurt but it feels a little… zappy.”

“Do you feel any impressions? See any images?”

“Nope.”

“Very well. This time I want you to try and push back. I want you to imagine a wall or shield, blocking the zappy feeling. It may help you to think of it as an attack. Find where it is hitting you, and try to stop it.”

For several minutes the two sat across from each other, quietly waging war.

“We should stop for now.”

“Oh, thank god. I have to pee so bad…”

Sun tilted back his head and laughed, “Is that what it is? Your attention was very strong up until about fifteen minutes ago, ha!”

“You mean I’m actually doing something?”

“Certainly. Your light is very bright, even at rest. It is no wonder you’ve been able to ask them for help without any training.”

“My light?” She shifted her weight, uncomfortable but stubborn in her excitement for knowledge.

He laughed again, “Go to the latrine!”

On her way back, she spotted Harkness. At that moment he happened to pull his arms up over his head, stretching and yawning, affording her an opportunity to size him up and watch him move in the light of day.

He really is a big one. At least as big as Danse… he moves a little lighter though…

“You know, General Death in the Shadow, most people would get pretty excited, having someone as important as you, eye them up and down like that.”

“And what? You’re not most people?”

Jeez! He irks my very soul!

“I don’t see wanton eyes filled with lustful assessment. It’s not flattering; it’s scary.” He came to stand directly in front of her. Almost toe to toe, “I see you deciding how best to kill me.” He folded his large arms and glared down at her, “How did you put it? Ah, yes; ‘rip me in half’.”

“Ouch.” Reminding herself that he came a very long way to help and that she did in fact threaten to kill him, Wraith tried hard to be peaceable, “I truly apologize for both my actions and demeanor when we first met.”

He tilted his head to the side and squinted, “That’s it?”

“I’m sure that I would find ripping you in half to be… at least half again as difficult as I may have suggested.”

Letting his arms fall to his sides, his blue eyes widened before he erupted in bombastic laughter. Shaking his head, he patted her none-to-gently on the bicep, “Harley’s right; you are the scariest person ever!”

He had no idea how much those words hurt her.

“Yeah, that’s me; the Commonwealth Monster.”

“Tell Sunny I’m just about done with the fence. I’ll come in and make food when I’m finished.”

Noting the grim line of Wraith’s mouth, Sun turned up his glow and literally gave her his brightest smile, “Harkness is a moody sort of person. He fusses at me a great deal as well.”

“It’s not all on him. I just wish… nope… We need to focus on the ‘here and now’.” She forced a smile of her own, “Tell me about lights.”

“The lights of the soul,” He settled back to the mat, “you may see them in your mind. You’ll call out to them, guide them and push them.”

“So, when you’re pushing at me, my light is where you… aim?”

“If that analogy helps you, then yes.”

“So if I can see your light, can I talk to you? Make you do stuff?” A horrible thought had crept through her mind, “Even if you don’t want to?”

“Ah, yes. This brings us to something very important. Wraith, you must always be the brightest light.” He set his hands together and briefly touched their tips to his scarred lips, “Most sentient beings carry a light inside them and most of those are strong enough to withstand any attempts at manipulation. It is possible to be overwhelmed however, so think of yourself as a lighthouse. Your radiance is a strong beacon of hope and you gather the smaller lights to you. You offer them peace, direction, safety and tranquility.” Separating his hands he waved them in a gesture of dismissal, “You do not ever go to them. Don’t follow the lights!”

“I’m sorry, but why? I know that they aren’t just…”

“Infamy and I are not the only Children who have herded feral ghouls.” Sun’s eyes filled with pain and sorrow, “Some of the other parishioners started to call us The Necromancers.” His smile was sad, “I’ll admit, I thought it was very cool and along with our friends, I began to act like… well, rather high and mighty. Some of us, rather than simply move ferals to more convenient and safe locations, started aiming our small collections at wastelanders who might have offered us some slight.” Now his eyes filled with guilt, “It went too far, of course. People died; people who didn’t deserve that level of admonishment.”

“So, the Necromancers became infamous… then Infamy?”

“Yes. At this point I was still a member, but I was having problems reconciling the deaths… and I wasn’t the only one.” He leaned toward her, “There was a power struggle within the group; those who wanted to return to The Necromancers and those who chose Infamy. Each faction had a leader and when the two faced off, Atom’s Assassin came out on top. Multiple ferals were used in their attack, and once their opponent was lost in a sea of overwhelming lights, Infamy took hold of what little of their mind was left and bent them to their will.”

Brow furrowed, Wraith stuck out her lip, “Wait… and you… you all think I’ll somehow be able to…”

Leaning back, Sun waved his hands dismissively, “Oh, no. This isn’t a coup d’état; it should be sufficient for you to simply demonstrate your ability to herd fearls. We are seeking to establish credibility to the claim that you are Chosen and therefore not a pretender as Marie has claimed.”

Suddenly overwhelmed, Wraith surged to her feet and bolted for the door. At that moment Harkness was heading inside to prepare a meal and so the two nearly collided. Near tears, she muttered an apology as she ducked under his arm and twisted away.

She didn’t get very far. Just past the remains of the semi-trucks were the three feral ghouls she had seen that morning. She stopped and crouched, instinctively preparing for battle. They all but ignored her, continuing to pick unknown detritus from the grass and putting it their mouths. As she watched them she patted herself down, stopping when she realized what she was searching for.

“Need a cigarette?” Harkness, seeming to appear from midair, leaned against a truck cab and offered her a pack.

“No, thanks. I’m after something a little stronger.”

“Oh, yeah. Buffout, right?”

“Christ! Does everybody know?!”

Pushing himself away from the vehicle, he folded his arms and gave her a pitying smile, “Hancock didn’t tell me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Let me guess…”

“No, it wasn’t Harley either.” He watched as the ferals shuffled away toward the warehouse, “I figured it out on my own. When we met you acted so out of character from what I was expecting that I knew something had to be off. That and the ability to lift me off the ground with one hand…”

“It’s been getting steadily worse; every time I got scared, or even nervous, I’d pop a Buffout ‘just in case’.” It was easier to watch the ferals then meet his eye, “I’d take one and I’d calm down because then I was strong enough to handle what was coming. The times that I’ve lost control… I didn’t take it because I wanted to… no matter who they are or what they’ve done the people I’ve killed are, well, people. When I go berserk there is a good chance I won’t remember the little details of the murders I’m committing. Curie has warned me that it was all psychosomatic; I thought I was controlling myself with the chem when it was actually all in my head.”

“Let’s fight.”

“I don’t wanna fight with both myself and you.”

“No, I mean spar.” He widened his stance, bent his knees slightly and raised his fists, “Harley says you used martial arts to help Cait overcome her lingering cravings. Maybe it’ll help you too.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

Plus, I might get to sock you one - guilt free.

They spent the next few moments testing each other with quick jabs and minor kicks. Nothing connected as they each skillfully deflected the others probing attacks. Wraith found herself thoroughly enjoying the exchange and let herself relax and focus on the movements of her opponent.

He’s really quick! He may have Danse’s frame but he moves like Deacon. I wish the two of us could’ve done some exercises like this. Although, if it was anything like sparing with Hancock then other things would have… No, he never thought of me that way… What a thing to think about now!

Sensing her distraction and hoping to capitalize, Harley stepped in close and aimed a knee at her midsection. Dropping her hips to guard, she wrapped her arms around his torso and hefted him into the air while swinging him slightly forward. On the backswing she used his body’s momentum to pop him up and over her back and slam him to the ground.

“OOOFFFHA!” Utterly defeated he made the time-out signal with his hands and attempted to gain air into his lungs.

“Ooo! Gotcha good that time.” She hoped her smile wasn’t too obvious, “You let me know when you’re ready for round two.”

Wheezing, the large man took her offered hand and let her pull him to his feet, “No thanks! I don’t want to wrestle anymore today.”

She held on to his hand, “Thanks for this, really. I was freaking out and… you made me feel better.”

Laughing ruefully he placed his other hand atop hers and gave it a pat, “I’m glad you tossing me around made one of us feel better.”

Sun had come to look for Wraith and was confused by the juxtaposition of fighting and laughter, “Are the two of you… well?”

“She’s better and I’m going inside to cook because my ego and I need to prove that there is something I’m capable of being successful at.”

“The… fence looks… complete…”

“Thank you, Sunny. I can always count on you to be mildly complementary.” He lifted a cautionary finger, “Don’t let go of the ferals just yet, I want to make another circuit before you do.”

As the three of them headed back to the office, Wraith felt the now familiar sensation of a mental intrusion. Sun, who was slightly ahead of her, felt it as well and he stopped and turned toward the warehouse. The three feral ghouls had stopped feeding and were standing perfectly still; staring intently at the building that contained the feral glowing one.

“She’s calling us… she… ah, she’s lost interest.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to keep her in there? If she’s that powerful…”

“Not to worry, sister Wraith. I am quite proficient in my craft. Even if I cannot move her as I like; I’m confident I can keep her in a state of peacefulness.”

Wraith’s tone was grim, “And if that fails, I am confident in my proficiency of my craft.”

After they ate, (Sun more out of polite interest than necessity) Harkness asked the other two to clean while he made a final check of the fence, “I’m going to circumambulate one last time before you take off their mental leashes. It would be less than polite to let them wander off into someone’s tato plot.”

Wraith and Sun spent the remainder of the day cross-legged on the mat, quietly sparing until the sun made the western hills its grave.

Exhausted from the training, Wraith fell asleep almost as soon as she lay down for the night.

She was back in the cave.

“I have to find the source!”

The dripping water proved directionless; echoing through her ears and reverberating from the rough, pitted walls. She spun in a circle: searching, searching, searching… Drawn to the faint light cast by glowing fungus she moved as though floating. A faint flicker at the corner of her vision caused her to flinch and spin away.

“Pippa, you need to stop.”

Deacon phased in and out of focus, as if he was using a glitching Stealth-Boy, and no matter how she twisted and turned, she couldn’t see him but from the corner of her eye.

“Please stop or we’ll die.”

His voice came from directly behind her. She spun around; putting her back to the mushrooms to see him fully. His tear-streaked face was a pallid green from their illumination.

“Stop what?!” She tried to go to him but could no longer move, “Stop how?!”

As before his eyes began to glow, brighter and brighter it spread until his whole body shone. It created a strobe-like effect when combined with his flickering in and out of sight. Then, ever so slowly, he raised a hand. Clutched in his fist was a single glowing fungus and he offered it to her as if it were a rose.

“This one is yours.”

Wraith’s next three days followed a pattern: breakfast, meditative combat, lunch, meditative combat, sparing with Harkness, dinner, meditative combat then bedroll. Thankful that the cave dream didn’t manifest again, she got some much-needed sleep each night.

On the fourth day she had a breakthrough.

“HA!” Her forceful shout corresponded to a particularly successful mental push. The result of which knocked Atom’s Sun over and made Harkness jump out of his chair.

“What?! What’s happening?!”

Scooping the ghoul from the floor, Wraith spun them round, “Eeeeeeeee! That was awesome!”

“Please!” The glowing one somehow managed to look even more green, “I’m about to be sick!”

“I take this to mean that progress has been made.”

“Yes, very much so.” Grateful to have his feet touching the floor, he wobbled slightly but was smiling, “Congratulations, sister Wraith. Now we will work on refin…”

As if in response to their celebration, there came an incredible psionic pulse from the warehouse’s glowing resident. It was so powerful in fact, that Harkness turned along with the other two to stare toward the building next door.

“Whoa!” Wraith’s voice was hushed in awe, “Radiance just threw down the gauntlet.” She pointed toward the ceiling, “Let’s go check up on her.”

On one of her previous ghoul-problem checks, Wraith had created a makeshift bridge between the roofs of the two main buildings. Once the trio crossed over they quietly moved around the catwalk until they could see the feral glowing one.

And what a sight she was: bathed in light of her own making, Our Lady of Perpetual Radiance stood perfectly upright with her arms slightly raised and palms facing her hips. Sensing them, she turned and took several elegant steps in their direction. Her poise and grace called to mind an expert ballerina. Further, rather than the normal growths, welts and malformed lumps caused by ghoulification, she was adorned in glowing funguses of varying pastel hues. There was a large concentration trailing up her spine to encircle her scalp which made it look as if she had been crowned by luminescent jewels.

“She’s a queen.” Breathless, Wraith couldn’t take her eyes off her.

Tilting her chin slightly downward, Radiance gave the other woman an intensely scrutinizing look while sending out another powerful mental challenge.

“She’s here… for me…”

“Wraith!” Harkness stepped between them, “Hey! Snap out of it.”

“Sister Wraith, we should return…”

Nodding wordlessly she followed behind them in a haze.

The next 3 days passed with much the same routine. The difference being that after her sparing with Harkness, Sun would take her to the warehouse roof where they would alternate trying to connect with Radiance and the other feral ghouls.

This made Harkness very nervous and he made several comments to that effect. When asked “why” he couldn’t properly articulate his forbearance, “It’s dangerous. The other ferals… that is what you came here to learn but her… I don’t know. We didn’t bring her, she brought herself.”

On the ninth day, Wraith awoke with a start and leaped to her feet. She could hear voices, raised in anger, coming from outside. One of them was Marie’s. Quickly donning her new armor, she slipped out a window while activating a Stealth-Boy.

Once outside, the early dawn light shown over a grim scene: the bodies of several ghouls, both feral and clad in Infamy’s darkened Children’s robes, lay across the grass in between two of the semi-truck trailers. A few living members ringed a kneeling, and obviously injured Harkness while Marie held Sun of Atom at gunpoint. A glowing one, whom Wraith presumed to be Atom’s Assassin, sat on the top of one of the trailers, letting their feet swing in and out of the opening.

Marie’s voice was shrill, “How could you?! How dare you kill your own people?!”

“Tch. Don’t waste words on that foolish, old Necromancer.” Infamy’s leader had their dagger out and was playing with it in a way that was clearly meant to be menacing. Pitching forward, they did a perfect flip and landed lightly on their feet. Purposely bypassing Marie and her hostage, they held their blade under Harness’s chin, forcing his eyes up slightly to meet their own, “Where is the Pretender, hmm? Where is Death in the Shadow?”

“She’s no pretender, Infamy. I promise you; Wraith’s the real deal.”

Infamy was intrigued.

“Don’t listen to this… blasphemous lout! He himself aided Morningstar in infiltrating the Apostles of the Holy Light by acting as a member! He is no less an enemy than she is!”

Marie had taken to waving her pipe pistol around as if it was a visual aid. Distracted by her wrath, she was easily disarmed by Sun who, in turn, put her in a headlock with the muzzle at her temple.

“Oh! Unhand me you… bastard!”

Infamy was amused.

“Hear us out. Please, my… please.”

Arching a hairless brow, Atom’s Assassin sheathed their weapon and folded their arms, “I’m all ears. Oh, hahaha; that’s funny cause I haven’t any! Ha ha heeee!” They gave Sun a dismissive wave, “By all means, kill that obnoxious psychotic. Ha! We only need one in our party and I am more than sufficient! Hahaha!”

Instead, Sun released her and backed away with his hands in the air, “She’s barely more than a child.” He directed his emphatic smile at her, “You have your whole life in front of you. You can be anyone and do anything. You can stop this right now; by telling the truth!”

She spit in his face.

Wraith flinched. She was unwilling to act because she couldn’t figure an attack pattern that would guarantee the survival of her friends. At war with herself, her patient side was winning, but the berserker would not be silent.

In a gesture of good faith, Sun returned the pistol to Marie. Raising his hands he turned back to Infamy’s leader. “Wraith is by no means a false profit. In fact she makes no claims of prophecy herself. High Confessor Tektus proclaimed her Chosen because she, being granted the Mother of the Fog’s holy Icon, aided in the preservation of our sect in Far Harbor.” He placed his palms together as in prayer and brought his hands to the ruin of his nose. “I too have made the pilgrimage to the Sacred Spring. Atom has not yet granted me the clarity to fully understand the visions I received, but ultimately, I believe Wraith to be our friend and ally.”

“Lies!” Marie returned to waving her weapon, “She is the destroyer of Crater House! She has slain countless of our brothers and sisters! She is no friend; she is a heartless killer!”

Infamy fixed her with a withering glare, “Be quiet for now or I will silence you forever.” They set a finger to their lips and shushed her. Then bringing the digit away from their face they shook it back and forth in the air, “Ah ah ahhh, Sunny boy. I myself have heard the settlers speak of their leader as a ‘master over ghouls’ and they call her ‘priestess of Atom’ awayyyy up north. If she didn’t start this herself, as you claim, then she certainly didn’t stop it, as I know.” They put their hands on their hips and leaned toward their fellow glowing one, “Infamy doesn’t care much for those to garner fame at Atom’s expense!”

“She is no self-proclaimed priestess, and is prepared to denounce this publicly over Radio Freedom.” Sun smile was sly, “As for her ghoul mastery; we are prepared to give you a demonstration of her abilities… as a Necromancer.”

Marie, in an attempt to hybridize scoffing and laughter, ended up chocking and coughing instead.

Infamy was confused.

“How? Unless my mother was right and I’ve finally gone blind, she is no glowing one; feral or otherwise.” They folded their arms and turned to where Wraith was hiding, “Please, by all means, show me your power.”

Wraith deactivated her Stealth-Boy and walked out to them with her hands in the air, “I’d say you’re far from blind.”

Marie hissed.

“I don’t know how you put up with her.” She gave Harkness a searching look, “How bad are you?”

“I’m fixing to live.”

Atom’s Assassin closed the distance between them remarkably quickly, “Take off your helmet, if you would, General. I’d very much like to see your eyes as we speak.”

Wraith refused to flinch away from the heat as the ghoul placed their face less than an inch from her own. She couldn’t prevent the involuntary gasp of air however, and was once again amazed that a being capable of generating that much heat and light would do so with a complete lack of body odor.

“You’re defiant of Marie’s claim that you are a heretic of the Church of Atom? That these rumors of your prestige are in fact, the propaganda of others and not of your making or design? Do you have the ability to call and control feral ghouls? Did you lay waste to the settlement of Crater House and slay the Holy Guardian at Kingsport Lighthouse?”

The rapid-fire questions put Wraith back on her heels, “Yes.” She lifted her chin defiantly, “I didn’t know that Kingsport was a claimed site. Outside of the… guardian, there wasn’t anyone there when I scouted it for a settlement. I destroyed the war camp at Crater House due to repeated attacks of the established Minutemen settlement, and only after my attempts at diplomacy…”

“I care not for your reasons.” They leaned away and waved Sun over to them, “What exactly did you see on your pilgrimage?”

“A figure with a remarkable resemblance to General Wraith, named as ‘Harbinger’. I know not of what she proceeds.”

“All Atom’s knowledge is granted to the patiently devout.”

The now familiar sensation of a glowing one’s summoning buzzed in Wraith’s mind. Shortly, a quartet of feral ghouls shambled their way over to stand in a row in front of the group.

“Now, I shall release them…”

“Wait! She is but a novice…”

Infamy’s eyes blazed at the interruption, “Atom will protect her, if that is his will. That being said; you have five minutes or I’ll kill you all.” They clapped their hands, “Isn’t this fun?! Wheeeee!”

Marie snorted.

“You can do this, Wraith.” In pain, Harkness’s voice was strained and horse.

Almost immediately the ferals rushed her. This fostered suspicion that they had been ordered to attack rather than simply “let go”. She stayed ahead of them; happy to move them away from her friends.

During her training she had found that tapping into her berserker side had actually helped her when connecting to the ghouls.

Two sides of the same coin, it seems.

Donning her helmet and relaxing her mental self-restraint, she sent out a tentative greeting to her pursuers. As soon as she saw their lights she knew that these were reavers. Atom’s Assassin had deliberately chosen some of the most powerful of his arsenal to test her. Little did Infamy’s leader know that she had been practicing with a feral of Radiance’s caliber.

Come to think of it; why hasn’t she been throwing challenges at Infamy? Maybe I just piss her off…

As she wooed the ferals she felt what could only be an attack from Infamy. Distracted, she stumbled and was hit hard on the side of the head by one of the feral ghouls. Thankful for her armor, she spun away from the reaver unhurt.

Infamy’s attack made her angry, but she channeled it into an attack of her own and broke through to two of her assailants. These immediately rounded on their allies and pinned them to the ground.

Infamy was shocked.

“Well… well...” They snapped their fingers and the guards surrounding Harkness immediately broke away and retreated through the hole the group had cut in the fence. “It seems as though Atom has seen fit to grant you special abilities. We will be returning to the Capital Wasteland now. Once there, I shall meditate long and hard on this Holy Lesson…”

“You CANNOT BE FUCKING SERIOUS!” Spittle flew from Marie’s mouth as she shrieked, “YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULD DESTROY HER! SHE IS A MONSTER! I WILL NOT LET HER GET AWAY WITH THIS…”

She shot Atom’s Sun, point blank, in the temple.

Infamy, Harkness and Wraith all ran to them but Wraith, already lost in her berserker’s rage, reached them first.

She ripped Marie in half.

At that exact moment the garage door of the warehouse burst open in a white-green blast of radiation. Surrounded in a nimbus of prismatic light, Our Lady of Perpetual Radiance seemed to float across the grass as she came to Wraith’s side. The two of them together was an image out of the darkest of nightmares: Wraith in her blood and intestine draped deathclaw armor and the apparent queen of all radioactive monsters.

The others could only stand back and watch as Radiance reached forward and grabbed Wraith’s head in her scorched and twisted fingers. She pulled her forward until their foreheads met, then spun away toward the south east. Not even slowing down when she met the fence; she simply melted her way through and continued on at a swift pace. All the remaining feral ghouls followed her through.

And Wraith followed with them.

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you’ve read? Looking for more? Please see my master link post in my tags under Wraith in the Ruins. As always, my ask is open for questions/comment/concerns. More to come! =^..^=

#wraith in the ruins #fallout 4 companions #fallout fan fiction #fallout fanfic #fallout companions #rj maccready #maccready #nick valentine #fallout 3 harkness #fallout curie #danse

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southoftheborderx · 4 years

Text

178.

“Confession is always weakness. The grave soul keeps its own secrets, and takes its own punishment in silence.” ― Dorothy Dix

A petite brunette, starkly thin and physically haggard, slipped from the shadows and gazed around for a moment like a predator about to approach its prey before she moved. Each step was filled with exhaustion but she was determined. The drugs were wearing off and she could feel the desperation for them in her veins. The withdrawal was starting but she needed to come to terms. Where had the last seventeen years gone? She was about to be out of her thirties, she was too old for this life and the regrets were swimming in her head as the high wore off. The thoughts were too powerful and she couldn’t numb them anymore. She had lost everything for this and what had she gotten out of it?

Her shoulders dropped, the weight of her guilt washing even stronger over her as the church came into view. Despite being from a devout Catholic family, she hadn’t been in a church since her confirmation. She could remember how her mother’s eyes were shining with pride and her father, a man of few words, had cried. She had been their immaculate hope, the joy of their marriage. They had struggled to get pregnant and they had called her a miracle baby. She’d shamed them, she’d left them and she’d let the drugs try to replace them.

It seemed surprising that she didn’t burst into flames as she opened the door to the church. Her eyes remained downcast, as she heard the sisters scurrying about. She didn’t hear what they were saying, she just remained focused. She came here to seek penance and that was what she kept repeating to herself as she made her way down the long hall towards the confessional. Her parents had made her go when she lived in their home, it had been a ritual act whether she’d accidentally eaten before saying grace or the one time she’d stolen a guava from the market. She’d just been so hungry and they hadn’t had much.

Her cheeks flushed at the memory and she straightened, taking a breath to try to quell the exhaustion. Now, entering the confessional, she hesitated. How did she do this again? Her eyes fell on the open booth and she took another shaky breath before she entered, taking a seat. It took another moment to adjust. Suddenly, she felt claustrophobic. The booth was small and her secrets were making it impossible to breathe.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been…” She paused, hands clasped in her lap as she wondered exactly how long. “Almost twenty years since my last confession.”

“And why have you come now, my child?” The voice of the priest surprised her. He sounded young. Perhaps not too much older than Valentina would be now.

“The Catholic guilt worked up.” She let out a chuckle at her own joke but it sounded hollow.

There was a moment of silence between them. She didn’t know how to start. She could barely remember how this worked. Maybe she just had to start talking, to just start admitting her sins. It should’ve been so easy but there were far too many sins. How could she account all the sins of almost twenty years? How long could she even be in here? The thoughts were rushing through her head and she just didn’t know where to begin. She squeezed her hands together as if it physically hurt, teeth clenching.

“I met a boy when I was a young girl. He was older, he sounded so smart and articulate and I was totally taken with him. He told me stories about living on the streets and how he wanted to escape Cuba with me. How we’d move to America and start a family, flee Castro and…” She paused, recalling it as if it had happened a day prior instead. “I fell in love with him, I said yes and I left my family to be with him.”

“You left your family as a teenager?” The priest sounded surprised. “How?”

“I just packed a bag and snuck out in the middle of the night to meet him, I didn’t think about it. I didn’t think about Mama or Papa or my Abuelos, who were also living with us. I just had to be with him. I know it was selfish but I was a kid and I thought we were unstoppable. We would live the kind of life that I’d only read about in books.” She sighed. “But, of course, my blind faith in him was foolish. We were kids, we didn’t have a plan, we didn’t have any money, we didn’t have anything and we grew desperate. He… got involved with a street gang as a drug runner. The drugs were so valuable but he wasn’t earning the kind of money that people paid for them, he got the bare minimum and we tried to make the best of it but it just wasn’t enough.”

“Father, I knew it was wrong, I knew all of it was wrong but I was in love. We had premarital sex… a… a lot of premarital sex.” She blushed and shook her head. “And I got pregnant.” Her voice broke. “My parents struggled to have me and I got pregnant without even trying.” She sighed and took another moment. “We were just so young and I… I knew we weren’t ready but I was a Catholic girl, I couldn’t get rid of it. I… had to deal with the consequences.”

“So you had the baby.”

“I did, a baby girl. We named her Valentina. Valentina Pilar. She was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. She had those chubby cheeks and big eyes and she had a full head of hair.” The woman paused. “The birth had hurt so much, I had felt as if I was being torn apart and my… my boyfriend told me to use the cocaine on my gums to help numb the pain. He’d stolen a bit out of curiosity but I figured it wasn’t that big of a deal. And if I wasn’t snorting the drug, I wasn’t… I wasn’t using it, right? It was just to ease the birth.”

“You can imagine that the little bit of cocaine turned into more. Slowly but surely, we started to use it more. All of the money he had gotten from the job with the gang had given us a little… shack to live in but we could barely afford food, clothes, anything. So we stole what we had to and he kept stealing a little more of the drugs, figuring that they wouldn’t notice. As our addictions grew, we became so focused on them that we began to neglect our daughter. We’d lose track of time and she’d be soiled. I wanted to be a good mother, I swear I did. All I ever wanted was to fall in love, get married in the church with my father walking me down the aisle and having a big family but my plans changed.” The priest was surprised by her candor. Most of the sins people came to confess were jealousy or lust or things that seemed so innocent in comparision of the tale the woman was telling. He wondered how he was going to tally all of the sins. She’d only begun the story and there were so many. He couldn’t help but wonder why a woman who had fallen into that life of sin would return to church and he wondered too what had become of the baby. “Did your baby…?” He offered a leading question.

“No, she was a strong girl. She seemed to fight every obstacle, though she would make us plainly aware of her discomfort with her strong lungs.” She chuckled again, recalling Valentina screaming and crying. It had been the only way they would notice her. “The gang became aware of the missing drugs. We had gotten too greedy and The customers were reporting that they were being ripped off and…” She sighed. “All signs pointed to Emilio.”

“That was his name, the baby’s father, my boyfriend. They wanted him dead for it but I couldn’t raise the baby alone. I begged him to let me meet with them and he, eventually gave in. I pleaded his case, told them that we’d just had a baby and our child needed both of her parents so they cut me a deal. I had to cover his debts. But I didn’t have a job, I didn’t have any skills but we were just so destitute at that point that I was desperate and I agreed to prostitute myself as long as it would take to cover what he’d stolen. I figured, at that point, it would just be a few times and then we could forget it ever happened. Maybe he’d find a job at a shop or the market and we could pretend this never happened.”

“How many times was it? How… did…” The priest was at a loss for words.

“I remember the first client. He was older, he had a moustache and he smelled awful. He hurt me and I couldn’t do anything. I just had to take it for Emilio, for Valentina. I kept promising myself that it would be over soon. Some of the other prostitutes told me that they got high before they did it because it numbed the pain so I did too. We were already in debt, what did it matter? But it is a slippery slope, the more I got high, the more we owed and the more I had to let men use my body. And then, suddenly, my daughter was no longer a baby. And Emilio…”

“What happened to him?”

“They shot him.” Her voice was tiny as if she couldn’t get enough air in. “They found him at home and they murdered him as he slept right beside our daughter. I came home to my little girl screaming and the love of my life dead, his blood staining our bedsheets. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know anything. I just knew that… there was no way out. I couldn’t return to my parents, I didn’t have any friends or anyone else to depend on so I kept… on. They would say that my daughter was next. That they would break her in. They would threaten her to keep me there and I was so helpless that…” Her eyes welled up with tears.

“Why couldn’t you go home? Your parents must’ve been so worried.”

“And bring the street gang to their door? To put a debt on them that they couldn’t pay? To bring shame to our family more-so than I already had? It simply wasn’t an option. I couldn’t let my daughter grow up in that life, I couldn’t let her see what I had become. She was six when I told her to leave. I knew it was wrong but I knew the only way she could live a better life was to not be my daughter. If she left… no matter how much it hurt, I knew that she would find a family to love her, to give her everything I couldn’t and… I just had to live my life with all of my regrets because it was my fault that she wouldn’t get everything that she deserved. And I know that we should’ve been married in the church, we should’ve established a life first but that little girl, she was my pride and joy. I just had to become the mother that she deserved.”

“And where is she now?”

“I don’t know.” Tears were streaming down her face now. “I have no idea what became of her and I don’t know how I will find out. I just hope she’s okay, that she isn’t scarred by the sins of her parents and that she is living a good life. I want her to have the life that we couldn’t give her because she was our immaculate hope. She was my perfect little girl and I had let her down.” Her hands reached up to wipe her eyes as she clenched her eyes shut to try to stop any more tears from falling. “I told myself that I need to get clean and get on the right track. My daughter is out there and I need to find her, I need to become the mother I should’ve been. It might be too late because she’s a grown woman now but… I hope she understands.”

“I hope so too.”

#parents #ac #178

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nymphl · 5 years

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Lie to Me - Hux x Reader x Ch. 9: Cheap & Expensive

A/N: Hello xD Reading the spoilers for the Hux comics I still didn’t read the entire thing, made me realize that although I couldn’t come up with new chapters for any of my stories, I should update Lie to Me here on tumblr. So here it goes. Starring in this chapter my fav characters to write about and my fav relationship Aurra and Hux hehe. I hope you like it xD

Story Summary: Falling for the enemy… That’s probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Letting him live… for he should be dead. And you should’ve been the one to kill him. You had him, right there… and you let it escape through yours fingers. He lived. And now only the time could tell if you made the right decision — more likely wrong — by saving the amnesiac General of the First Order and telling him he was your husband. [Hux x Reader - Hux x You]

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 Tags: from enemies to lovers; eventual romance; memory loss; fake marriage; fake marriage becomes real marriage; rebellion; married couple; canon divergence; slow burn romance; politics; rebel alliance; resistance; first order; OOCness; eventual smut; eventual sex; power play; power dynamics; syndicate; lies; you lie; Hux lies; Hux backstory; manipulation; political alliances; political betrayals; secret organizations.

Wordcount: 4903.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER *** NEXT CHAPTER

ARMITAGE HUX HAD DARK CIRCLES UNDER HIS EYES. Even if he did not remember, he looked pretty much like his old self — of not even three months ago.

Besides that, he sported a busted lip and — he wondered how many — a few broken ribs. At least, he managed to put his nose back in place — or the guys who broke it in the first place did. The pain was not nearly unbearable, but he could not recall the last time he felt so battered.

Probably a long time ago, he mused, spitting the blood in his mouth. He closed his eyes and let his head hung low. Albeit the scalding sun of Dantooine was not up there in the sky to hurt his clear irises, the darkness made it almost impossible to distinguish the path they were taking him.

It did not mean he was unaware of his surroundings.

He had trained all his life in the Academy of his home planet — and although he knew from the beginning he was destined for great things, he did not miss even one of the trainings, Rae Sloane made sure of that — for situations like this. Arkanis Academy was known to push their soldiers harder than any other planet loyal to the First Order. Simulations in which the cadets were deprived of one, sometimes more, of their senses were almost a daily event. By the end of the last year, only the best were fit to serve the Order. And obviously, he graduated at the top of his class.

Later, as he climbed the steps to the very top of the First Order, he never turned down a mission in which he had to risk his life. He was not sure he could trust anyone who could not risk their lives for the cause.

Of course, to be beaten like that bruised his ego. It had been a while since he last saw himself in an analogous situation. But that had to be done.

Hux was a never someone who expected immediate results for anything in life — and even less when it was something of greater importance. Unlike Ren — and even Phasma —, he was a very patient man. Now that he had some of his old memories back — not all of them, but some very important ones — he recalled how this trait came in hand when he needed it the most. Hell, it took him almost twenty and then some years conspiring in the shadows to have his father killed and rise to the very top of the First Order.

And if he could wait so long to get rid of his sire — his darkest, deepest desire — he could wait to talk to the head of the Dantooinian Syndicate.

It was with a sharp intake of breath that he firmed himself on his knees when the four men escorting him threw his battered form to the rough ground. He spat the bitter earth from his lips and cursed when one of them threw a bucket of cold water on his face.

“What is the meaning of this, morons?”

Hux opened his bluish eyes only to be met with an alabaster, wrinkled face of someone he — and the entire galaxy — thought to be dead.

You’re not afraid of intimacy. You’re afraid of enjoying it… With me.

A sigh left your lips as soon as you opened your eyes. You could not sleep even a bit and when you finally started to doze off, you heard your husband leaving the house.

You could have asked where he was going; you could have tried to stop him. Instead, you let your head hit the pillow and sleep claim you. Only to wake up not even half an hour later worried about him.

Honestly, you knew that whatever he was doing, there was no stopping him. Besides, you were not sure you wanted to see his face anytime soon. And you had to get some rest if you were to even live for another day.

But it was getting increasingly difficult. His words — his voice — would not leave you alone.

You’re afraid of enjoying it… With me.

Right now, what scared you the most was not the fact he was right. The prospect of getting intimate with him and enjoying it still terrified you. Enjoying what he could do to you. A small, silly part of you thought of that as cheating on your late husband — even if he was dead. However, what made you lose sleep at night was the idea of him getting closer to the truth at each passing day.

For the Maker!

You got his pillow and brought it to your face, smothering a frustrated scream.

Earlier, when he said those words, you could not bring yourself to give him an answer. He did not seem to expect one — actually, he probably thought you to be sleeping and you let him believe so. It took him some minutes to lay you carefully on the bed, leave the room and, shortly after, the house.

Part of you wanted to just give in and get him out of your system. But you were smarter than that; that notion of getting over someone after getting physical with them was ridiculous, not to mention impossible. You had feelings for him; the depth of them was still unknown even to you — and you had no idea if you wanted to know. To acknowledge you felt something was already too much. To think about their nature would be torture.

If you just… if you gave in, you knew there would be no going back.

Kriffs!

You let go of his pillow — his scent was making it difficult for you to think straight — and sat on the mattress. You should go to work. That was the only and definite way to get him out of your system for at least a few hours.

If the cold water they threw at his face had not washed whatever drowsiness he may have felt, the sight of Aurra Sing certainly had. An infamous name in the underworld, everyone believed her to be dead back in the early days of the Empire.

Hux, however, did not let the shocking news take control of him. It was no surprise that a bounty hunter outlived those who wished them dead.

Still on his knees, hands tied on his back, he eyed her with rapt attention. She had aged — not that he had met her before, but both in Arkanis and in the First Order they had files concerning the most famous criminals of all systems, mainly those who had served the Empire —, her face was wrinkled and her once auburn hair was tinted white. As white as her alabaster skin. The sharp planes of her face, however, remained. Her green eyes were as cold as his and the glint of pure arrogance they sported almost made Hux snort. But that was just the surface. There, in the depths of those orbs, he could distinguish it.

Fear.

That was how many of his enemies stared at him in the past. That was the feeling he enjoyed seeing in them the most. Only those who had never seen it — and savored it —in his enemies’ eyes, would ever consider respect and loyalty above fear.

But he was not there to make new enemies.

“Beckett died believing he had finished you off,” he said, his voice firm and controlled. He did not show an ounce of fear. His reaction — or lack of expected reaction — seemed to please her.

She threw her head back and laughed.

“Oh, hon, many of my enemies did.”

There was silence for a second. It was thick and tense. Hux would have squared his shoulders, if the pain of moving even a bit was not excruciating.

“Uncuff him,” she ordered, leaving her throne.

It took him less than a few seconds to notice what they were made of. As white as her skin, it was clear the throne in which she sat — in which she commanded the very Syndicate in Dantooine — was made of bones. Her enemies’ bones.

The shadow of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Rae Sloane would like her — the woman hated whomever did not follow the rules and thought that people like Aurra Sing were an unnecessary evil in the Galaxy — if not her illicit activity, at least for her audacity.

“I said uncuff him,” she repeated, using a walking stick to firm herself on her shaky legs. Hux stared at her through narrowed eyes. “I swear, you get stupider by the day.”

Her voice made all four of her thugs to tremble in fear. And just like him, Hux discovered she reveled in that feeling. It made her feel powerful.

They obeyed her, nonetheless.

But not without pushing him towards the ground. Amirtage used both hands to support his weight, preventing his face from meeting the soil. The action made his entire body ache. He straightened his back and grimaced; he could bet he had more than three broken ribs.

“Help him to his feet and bring him to the dining room.” She had already turned her back on the five of them. “And give him something to clean his face. I would hate to stare at his blood while I have my breakfast.”

“Mother!”

The four interjected at the same time. But their plea fell on deaf ears. Aurra Sing was certainly not a woman to give any man power over her. And that’s exactly why she lived to see another day when most of her friends and foes alike met their deaths.

“You can’t trust him,” one of them pleaded. He, a specimen of the Duros, had his hand on Hux’s shoulder, pressing his fingers hard on his flesh. He pursed his lips into a thin line. Being held in place by a cybernetic limb hurt more than he thought at first — that or he was truly out of shape.

Rae would be extremely disappointed in him.

“Right now, I trust him more than I trust any of you!” She turned to face them, her walking stick pointed to the one who spoke. She opened fire against them and in no moment looked any closer of losing her balance.

That made Hux’s lips tilt upwards slightly.

As expected.

So far, everything was happening exactly as he had planned.

“Firstly, you bring him to our hideout, risking everything Cad Bane and I worked for the last few decades, and now you expect me to trust you over him?”

“He killed one of ours!” the Duros replied. His voice was slightly louder. High-pitched. And Hux realized that he was no more than a boy.

He could have added that he had killed three of them. The one who invaded his house and threated his wife, and, later, two of them while he searched for some information concerning the failed attempt of the First Order at ruling Dantooine.

You can be at ease, I did not kill anyone.

He lied.

Not exactly. But he did not tell the truth either.

He had not killed anyone that specific day — and her question referred to that day alone — but that was not the first time he had gone out and looked for the missing pieces that could help him restore his lost memories. Of course, he could do it without killing someone, but he wanted to draw attention to him and drawing attention he did.

And here he was.

“Any man stupid enough to seek a member of the First Order when I clearly told him not to, is not one of ours.”

Her answer left them agape. Out of respect — and fear — they fell to their knees. At the same time, Hux rose to his feet, flexing the fingers of his right hand. They were still numb; he could feel the blood slowly returning to its place.

“You’re all stupider than I presumed you to be if you think you captured him and brought him to me.”

The four of them were silent. But it was not necessary to hear their voices to know they were confused; her words did not make any sense to them.

“He. Kriffing. Played. You. All.” She threw her hands up, as if silently asking for a lightening to come and strike everyone in the throne room. That made Hux smile openly. “You brought him here because he wished to be brought here and not the other way around.”

As she pushed past them, she could not help but hit them with her walking stick — a blaster actually.

“Get out of my sight!”

His face was clean and even though his lips were swollen, he still could taste the strong taste of the Corellian Rum offered to him. The alcohol made the cut in his skin burn, but he brushed it off. It has been some time since he last had some proper Corellian Rum and he was not about to dismiss it that easily.

Not when his host was watching his very movements carefully.

“I hope you do have a hidden weapon with you,” she started, placing both hands under her chin. Her green eyes were narrowed; their intense color sufficient to make a grown man tremble, but not Hux.

Not someone who had been stared at that way since he could remember.

“Oh, darling.” Aurra laughed, and the sound was slightly annoying even giving their distance. “I am highly disappointed in you now.”

They were currently in a vast room with a huge table. They both were seated on the extremities of it and domestic droids rushed from one side to the other to serve them. He brought his glass to his lips once again and sipped his drink.

“You think because I’m all wrinkled and old I am unable to defend myself.”

She shook her head and snorted. She chewed her food slowly, taking her time to analyze Hux and his very movements. She knew she was being analyzed as well and that different from her soldiers, he did not fear her in the tiniest bit.

“Beckett believed so and here I am now and do tell me, General, where is he?”

There was no answer from him, which made her lose some of her composure. He mimicked her action of a few minutes ago, chewing his food slowly and then bringing the cup of rum to his mouth in a leisurely pace.

Part of her did want to say he was committing a mistake — seeking her out and trying to undermine her forces in front of her men — but she was not stupid enough to believe he was alone. Surely, someone of the First Order was backing him. As for the girl — Aquilla Syndulla’s wife —, he was most likely using her to gain information on the Resistance. Only a fool would think he had feelings for her. A man who had decimated an entire system did not know the meaning of such word.

Aurra almost felt sorry for the girl. And she would have, if she did not have her own Empire to take care of. She had no time for a stupid woman who decided to save a man who should be dead by now. A stupid woman who refused her help when it was offered. Aurra still recalled how she asked to be left alone when she offered a shoulder for the girl to cry on after the passing of her husband.

No.

The damned girl could die for all she cared. She had an Empire to rule and rule it she would. But part of her admired the girl. It took someone courageous — or very naïve — to help a General of the First Order. Did she have no fear at all?

Aurra, for one, had never feared anything. She had fought in the Clone Wars, she had worked for the Empire — she had seen that same Empire fall — and had become a fugitive when the New Republic took the reins of the Galaxy. She had survived it all, but she had never seen something like the First Order. An organization with so much power and money that building a weapon capable of destroying an entire system seemed child’s play. A force unlike any other she had ever seen in her long life.

For the Maker, they had invaded Dantooine and they had almost conquered it. Did they plan on conquering it at all? She had her doubts.

“I have known men like you my entire life, General.”

She expected him to say she did not, that he was different and some bullshit like that — men always enjoyed showing how much powerful they were; it only got more noticeable when they dealt with a much older or younger woman. It was with some surprise that she realized he would not say anything to contradict her.

He was playing her. And he was enjoying it immensely.

“You think you have all the cards in your hands and that you can bend the rules of the game.”

He lowered his glass to the table. The sound echoed in the empty room, making Aurra flinch slightly.

“It is because I can.”

It was pitch dark outside when you finally opened the door of your house, removed your bag from your shoulders and placed it over the dining table.

A contented sigh left your lips as you looked at the food on the plate, the steam leaving it made your mouth water. You had not realized you missed having a droid so much in your life. The house was clean — cleaner than it had ever been — and the smell of freshly made food was surely a good point about owning them.

Your stomach growled, and you lost no time to get a spoon and taste the soup D-Five had prepared. Or was it Hux? As you tasted it, you knew the answer.

Definitely Hux.

You furrowed your brows. You thought he would be mad at you after yet another refusal of… well… bedding him.

“Oh, Lady Hux! There you are!” The droid’s robotic greeting startled you. “Welcome back!”

You placed a hand over your heart and let a sigh leave your lips.

Kriffs!

“Thank you, D-Five.”

“Why would you thank me, Lady Hux? I merely did my job.”

You even thought about explaining yourself, but decided against it. You brought another spoonful to your mouth and thought about asking where Hux was, but again, decided to leave it alone. He was either in the refresher or outside.

Perhaps it would be best if he were outside. You would fall asleep before he returned and there would be nothing to discuss.

Perfect.

It is, till you noticed D-Five holding a small recipient with a clear and gelatinous substance inside.

Bacta.

“What are you doing?” you asked; spoon halfway towards your mouth. You lowered it back to the plate and straightened your back. “D-Five…”

“General Hux said I should not tell you anything.”

“Where is he?” You took some steps towards him and he mimicked you, stepping backwards. It would be funny, it is, if you were not worried-sick. You were out of bacta for a while now and if the General did have it with him, it was because something terrible happened.

“The refresher?” the droid said, his tone that of a question. “For the record, I did not tell you anything, Lady Hux!”

Your heart was thundering in your chest as you entered the bedroom. It was empty. The General was nowhere in sight. It took you a while to hear the shower running over the sound of your loud heartbeats.

His privacy was the least of your concerns as you tried to enter the refresher, only to find the door locked. You were not surprised to see the trail of blood on the floor.

“My Lord?”

There was no answer from him.

“Amirtage!”

You were ready to break the door when he opened it. He stood by the threshold, his nude form only covered by a towel hanging on his hips. You looked for any signs of a missing limb, but apart from his busted lip, you could not find anything.

Subconsciously, you threw your arms around him.

A small hiss escaped him, but he kept silent. He placed both hands on your shoulders and moved you slightly away. His cold stare made a shiver run up your spine.

“I saw your blood all over the floor,” you said, touching his face. His busted lip. “What happened?”

He did not give you an answer and instead moved away from you. He walked towards the wardrobe and got some clothes. You followed his movements with furrowed brows. He pulled a shirt over his head and it was impossible not to notice how he flinched slightly. Soon, he let the towel fall to the floor and put on light trousers.

This time, you did not close or eyes or turned around. Your eyes remained on his back, staring at the scars that graced the extension of his shoulders and continued down, till they disappeared in the limits of his waistband.

He turned to you, but instead of looking at you, he brought his fingers to the point right under his chest.

“Are your…” You bit your bottom lip. “Are your ribs broken?”

His lack of answer was answer enough.

You shook your head and started searching in your belongings for something to give him. The bacta D-Five was holding just before would do it — and you thought that a medical droid would come in handy one of these days.

A sigh escaped your lips as you approached him and pulled his shirt, trying to get him out of it. He helped you, his face showing just a hint of discomfort. That was a mask, you knew. It was impossible for him not to feel at least some pain. Not with the extension of his past and recent injuries.

You touched his ribs as if he were the most fragile thing. It was easy to tell he had two broken ribs and at least two or three more were slightly bruised. The area was a bit swollen, but he had had worse. It would take only a few days for him to be in perfect condition. It is, if you got him to have some of the bacta in D-Five’s possession.

As you examined him, he remained impassible. Part of you wanted to scrub his skin raw, so you would get some reaction of him.

“It’s nothing.”

“If you bled then of course it’s something.”

There was a moment of silence between you two. It was obvious he was analyzing you through those thick ginger lashes of him. His cold stare made a shiver ran up your spine.

You guided him to the armchair and forced him to sit down.

“You went to the Syndicate, didn’t you?”

His lack of answer made you get angry with him. You pressed your fingers against the swollen area more forcefully this time, yanking a loud gasp from him. He trapped both of your hands between his and pulled you to him.

“Armitage!”

You were the one to gasp as you fell over him. As if aware he would not let you go, you adjusted yourself over his lap, placing both legs around him and cautious about not letting all your weight press him down. He let go of your hands and touched your face, his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Until yesterday you would not say my name,” he said. He was so close you could feel his fresh breath. “Today you have said it twice.”

“You did not answer my question,” you reminded him, squirming in his hold. He grimaced, and you recalled he was hurt. “Sorry.”

“I did,” he replied in a low voice. He placed his hands on your waist and leaned against the armchair, his eyes closed. “My ribs will heal. D-Five made me drink some bacta already.”

A relieved sigh left you. You would have to thank the droid later.

“I asked you not to go,” you whispered, running your fingers on his face. His eyes snapped open. “I told you they would do worse next time.”

“You never said why.”

Do I have to?

“Why did you do it?” You barely noticed your palm was on his chest, right over his heart. You could feel his cadenced heartbeats and it somewhat calmed you. “Why did you look for them?”

He took his time to reply.

A gasp left you as you felt his warm hands inside your clothes, his fingers running over your belly and the small of your back. He did not seem interested in taking your clothes off, but the intimacy of the moment made your heart accelerate.

You bit your bottom lip.

“The man who entered our house was not a part of the Resistance,” he said running his fingers through your clothed thighs now. You drew in a sharp breath. His lips were on your neck, lavishing it with kisses and love bites. “He and the stalker were part of the Syndicate.”

This time, you were the one to take your time to reply.

“I thought so.” You did not give him any time to say anything else. “But you paid a too high price looking for them.”

He snorted.

“There is no such high price to keep you safe.”

You barely realized the two of you were now sharing the same air. He moved his lips from your neck and was now almost kissing you. His lips were almost on yours.

“Kiss me,” he demanded, his eyes fixed on your lips. “Kiss me, (Y/N)”.

You did not know what possessed you, but your lips fell on his in a passionate kiss. You bit his bottom lip, seeking entrance, which he gladly conceded. This time, he let you dominate the kiss. Dominate him. Your fingers found their way to his ginger locks and you used the opportunity to angle his head to your better pleasure.

His hands were working to remove your upper clothing. You were so concentrated on his lips — and what you wanted to do with them; where you wanted to have them —, you barely noticed his fingers over your nude skin.

A gasp left the both of you — you from pleasure and he probably from pain — as he forced you to grind against him.

“I want you,” he whispered when you broke apart. He gave you no time and his lips attacked your neck, biting the skin slightly. His hands moved to your ass, griping you forcefully and set a punishing rhythm between your hips.

A moan left you. Your fingers were on his shoulders, your nails breaking his fair skin. Part of you wanted him to feel pain and stop — for you were not sure you could stop him —, but that only served to yank a groan from him and actually encourage him to remove your bra.

“I want you so much.”

You did not give him an answer, for his lips were back to yours. You could feel him through his trousers. So. Kriffing. Hard. You knew he could feel how wet you were as well. How needy.

“I know you touched yourself yesterday,” he whispered before enclosing his lips around your right nipple. You felt your face warming all over. How did he know? No, that was the wrong question, why did you do it to begin with? All coherent thought left you when he nibbled your left pearl with a bit of force — the right being manipulated by his expert fingers — and later blew some air into it. “I know you want me too.”

“I do,” you admitted in a whisper. Your breath heavy against his ear. “But we can’t. You’re hurt.”

The General let you go. Begrudgingly but he did — he always respected your wishes, even if he wanted nothing but to continue what you were doing. You stepped away from him, both arms covering your breasts; they were smeared with his saliva. It made you shudder.

He watched you through narrowed eyes. He, too, was breathing heavy. It was not needed to look down to know how tight his trousers were. You felt it before — and you did not know why you stopped him when all you wanted was to feel him inside deep of you — there was no need to see it.

“That’s not the only the reason.”

You furrowed your brows. Your heart was thundering in your chest. You shook your head and stared at his face — you did not realize you were actually staring at his… well… cock. You licked your lips and shifted your attention back to his eyes. His pupils were full blown with lust.

“Of course it is,” you whispered, this time staring at the floor with interest. A gasp left you when he approached you, his warm fingers running over your arms and removing them from over your breasts. He did not touch you in such way — mindful of your earlier request —, but he lifted your chin, forcing you to face him. You bit your bottom lip as his hands found their way to your nude waist and pulled you to him.

“You’ve been avoiding me, because, in truth, we’ve never been intimate.”

A/N - Okay, that will be all for today. I hope you have liked this chapter. And until... Well, I hope I can update soon xD Both the earlier chapters of LTM and new chapters as well xD Ah, I know some things are not exactly what happened in canon, but keep in mind that it’s canon divergence, so I chose some things from his past to best match this story okay?

#hux x reader #hux x you #armitage hux #general hux #lie to me #ltm #fanfic #star wars fanfic #general hux x you #general hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux x reader #hux imagine #hux #star wars #fanfiction #sequels fanfic

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vhab1 · 4 years

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How to Change Mental Habits

To Thrive we must Strive

Thrive

verb

1) grow or develop well or vigorously

2) prosper, flourish

Wouldn’t it be great if we could thrive as a matter of habit? When you stop and think about it, that’s the only way you can thrive. Let’s take a baby as an example.

When a baby is developing well, flourishing even, she doesn’t do so only for one day. Babies sleep, eat, poop, play and repeat the cycle a few times a day. It is silly to say an infant child thrives for just one day.

In order for the baby to grow into a happy child and, ideally, a happy adult, the habit of thriving must be established early. For unfortunate kids who don’t have consistency of nutrition, love, and protection, it can be tough to thrive.

When we grow up to adulthood ourselves, it’s easy to forget thriving is a habit. It’s not a herky-jerky affair marked by fits and starts. The program and process of VHAB is built to foster consistency. We created it to address self-destructive mental habits. If your serious setting your sails to find Thrive Island, VHAB will help you make way.

How to change, that’s the question. One of the most important steps you can take is defining your goal. Unfortunately, many people settle for far less than they could have if only they would change, and think more boldly.

So, I challenge you to set your goals high. If you’re going to take a closer look at your substance use, if you’re willing to be honest with yourself, examine the role of substance habits in your life, and do the hard work of building new mental habits, why not make the effort with thriving as your goal.

Anything short of vigorously developing well, or making some partway habit change, is only going to leave you dissatisfied. But what is the best way to set a goal and thrive? If you want to know how to change your mental habits, you’ve got to think from a global perspective

Global Approach

We’re not going to hit you with more definitions in this section. When I refer to global habits, I’m really getting at a new way of thinking for your whole life. Many people make the mistake of trying to change a mental habit in isolation. This usually goes poorly.

Let’s take an example from psychology research: decision fatigue. The concept is best addressed with a little story.

Imaging you’ve decided to go on a diet. I know, in real life you might not even to need to lose weight. But just pretend along with me for a moment. Say you’ve been home for a few weeks.

Maybe on summer vacation or a COVID-19 quarantine. I don’t know why you’re stuck at home, but to break out of the depression caused by your spare tire, you decide to cut back on the calories and shed some pounds.

You start fresh in the morning, leaving the sugar out of your coffee and skipping cereal in favor of a couple of high-protein eggs. Looking good so far. Lunch comes, and again you choose well. The soup and 1/2 sandwich instead of your usual double-cheeseburger with a side of fries, and you begin to feel the pounds melting away already.

Holding on task through an afternoon of snack cravings, you have a glass of water with a slice of lemon instead of ruining your calorie plan. You find the diet advice you received to be excellent and, targeting your “macros” a piece of grilled fish and and some steamed vegetables wraps up a perfect day of your new diet plan.

Then you put on some streaming TV, binge a couple episodes, and eat a pint of Hagen Dazs rocky road. Of course, I’ve never followed this pattern.

Kidding. This is basically the anatomy of decision fatigue. Stanford researchers have confirmed how hard it is to stick with a new mental habit that requires multiple sequential decisions. We get tired of being good all the time.

Maia Szalavitz, author of the excellent book Unbroken Brain, wrote an article in Time in 2011 on the matter of decision fatigue. She concludes:

“Overall, the body of evidence suggests that it’s best to view willpower as something that can be strengthened like a muscle: hard work will improve your endurance and discipline. Believing in your ability to fortify your willpower will in turn help you persist.”

So if Maia is right, and I think she is, we have to cultivate willpower like we would any other skill. We get better at a sport or a at playing an instrument by practicing. It may be hard to admit, but if you have bad mental habits–ones you want to change–you also built those by repetition. As Will Durant said, “we are what we repeatedly do.”

So how do we get on the path of change so we’ll arrive at new mental habits?

Simple. We have to use what I call “the Four Gets.” Here we go.

Get Get Get Get

The four “gets” are exactly how to change mental habits.

Here they are so we can jump right in.

Get Clear, Get a Why, Get Away, Get a Guy (or Gal)

Get Clear.

You have to be clear about the new mental habits you want to cultivate. In my experience, clarity and extreme precision of your desires are essential. Most people never even make it this far in the process. They set murky finish lines and never know if they’re getting closer to their new mental habits.

Take VHAB for example. A critical part of the process is clearly recording your alcohol and/or substance intake. A lot of times when a doctor asks a patient how much she drinks, she’ll respond with, “I drink socially.” People often minimize the amount of their alcohol intake because overdrinking is embarrassing to admit to another person.

This is understandable and, like all of us, we try to preserve our social status. Overdrinking looks bad so we fudge the truth when confronted. But like the Rocky Road example above, if we’re lying to ourselves about our habits, we’ve got no shot at changing them. Like Benjamin Franklin said, failing to plan is planning to fail.

You have to be clear about what you want and what you’re doing to accomplish it. I always feel uncomfortable committing to a specific course of action. I hate to give up the flexibility that clarity entails. But I love the results of picking, and sticking to a clear plan.

Get a Why.

As Nietzsche said:“He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.”

I won’t bullshit you, this stuff is hard. If you’re reading an article on how to change mental habits, you already know it isn’t easy to stop cravings, self-sabotage, and regrettable behavior.

I used to think happiness was a life without struggle or difficulty. Smooth sailing, so to speak, was how you would know you were “doing it right.” I was naive. I’m sure this concept fed into my use of narcotics and alcohol. Bliss without struggle as utopian ideal.

Reality reveals life is hard. It’s difficult even if your parents paved the way with education, guidance and privilege. Even if you’re born in the greatest country on Earth, you speak the language, and you are of sound mind and body, making it from cradle to grave isn’t a pleasure cruise.

The Old German Philosopher hammers it home when he suggests the hard times are a requirement for a good life:

Examine the lives of the best and most fruitful people and peoples and ask yourselves whether a tree that is supposed to grow to a proud height can dispense with bad weather and storms; whether misfortune and external resistance, some kinds of hatred, jealousy, stubbornness, mistrust, hardness, avarice, and violence do not belong among the favorable conditions without which any great growth even of virtue is scarcely possible.

What’s the secret to making it through the hard parts? You need a reason why. I finally stopped using drugs because I didn’t want to die an overdosed drug addict. After countless experimentation, trial and error, I concluded quitting was the only way to survive. In order to quit, I needed a reason why. Self-respect was my ‘why’.

Get a Way

If you hang around the barber shop long enough, you’re going to get a haircut. This old expression I first heard in a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. The message is simple: spend time in places where drinking alcohol is the norm, and eventually you’re likely to drink. Since A.A. people are trying to stay sober, they naturally advise their members to get away from situations that usually lead to drinking.

This applies to people as well. I had a core group of drinking buddies. Before I quit, we had a lot in common. After I gave up drinking, we had much less to discuss. I had to make a clean break from my regular bar and the routine, or habits, went with it.

Cues stimulate cravings. A lot of mental habits you don’t like are fostered by hanging around an environment associated with your old routine. It’s not just barflies at the rail. It’s the “reward at the end of the work day” in the form of an alcoholic drink. It’s also the Rocky Road ice cream in the freezer.

The secret: change your routine. Skipping the bar is a easy one. you can find healthier ways to burn off stress, such as a walk or a trip to the gym. You can also change your routine by keeping the ice cream (if that’s your guilty pleasure) out of your freezer. If you don’t bring it home from the store, it won’t beckon to you late at night.

Get a Guy (or Gal)

People who quit smoking with a friend are more than twice as likely to achieve their goal. Weight loss and fitness get a huge boost when you have someone to work out with. A gym buddy is an enormous help when you have trouble sticking with your commitment.

If you want to change your mental habits, you must have what I call and accountability partner. Someone who observes and even encourages you to stick with your plan can make the difference. It makes no sense why telling another person about your plans and goals should be so helpful. I have a feeling it is because we don’t want to lose status in the eyes of our friends.

If I promise myself I won’t eat a whole bag of Tate’s cookies, but nobody is there to check on me, I will have a rough time staying in control. Tate’s, especially the thin oatmeal raisin cookies, are made in a divine bakery somewhere. If the Greek Gods high up on Mount Olympus run out of Ambrosia, they grab a sack of Tate’s cookies.

But when I put them in a clear glass mason jar (with a flip lock), everyone can see if Dad went overboard on the cookies. Tate’s is smart: they sell their cookies in an opaque green package. Nobody can tell if you had one or a whole tray. The bad looks the same before and after, but the jar makes cookie nibbling public. Take this advice if you want help to find a new way of thinking.

Obviously, we don’t have cookie police at my house. But if the old man is hitting the cookies too hard, I’ll hear it from my wife or the kids. I mean, there it is: no hiding the truth.

In elementary school, when you went on a field trip, were you assigned a buddy? Sometimes the teacher will let the kids choose their own. Buddies are an extra pair of eyes and ears to each of you stays safe. They do the same thing in the Army, and we do the same thing in VHAB if you want to change a habit.

A.A. uses this concept for their “sponsors.” A sponsor isn’t someone who pays for your sports equipment. It’s another person who’s been through trying to quit drinking. Think of a sponsor in this context like a mentor. But I think anyone can be your accountability partner, because the key is your honesty. Not what your “gal” or “guy” tells you.

The post How to Change Mental Habits appeared first on VHAB.

from VHAB https://www.vhab.com/how-to-change-mental-habits/

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storyunrelated · 5 years

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Candidate for Completion - Growing Pains

Allow me to piss in your ear a moment.

A Candidate for Completion (those capitals letters Are Important) is one of those ideas I have on the boil that could, perhaps, turn into something greater were I bothered enough to put the effort in.

I believe The Kids in the WRITEBLRSPHERE might call them ‘WIP’s’ or something like that. And while they could never be ‘good’ even if I did do anything with them they might at least be, well...

Something.

So with that laid out let’s go and talk about

Growing Pains

Of course, everyone always thinks they’re the one exception. The one person who’ll be able to control themselves, the one who won’t need those horrible drugs or the check ups. The one person who’ll be special.

It is an unavoidable human failing that everyone considers themselves possessed of a certain quality or qualities that are lacking in all others. They are special.

Everyone is special, obviously, but they are the most special, and will succeed where others haven’t on account of this.

But they never are, and no-one ever will.

WHAT

A normal, well-adjusted human being (whatever that might look like) with access to super powers was an uncomfortable enough thought in the first place. Most people wouldn’t trust their neighbours with a knife and fork.

Neighbours with superhuman tendencies? Who wanted to help? Without really grasping what this might involve? With an increasing trend towards not accepting no as an answer?

It hardly bore thinking about.

It’s about superheroes! Well, kind of. Not really. Superpowers are involved, but that’s about it.

The idea is that, at a certain point in people’s lives - typically the teenage years, though not always - they have the chance to suddenly develop superpowers. These come in three broad categories, with your strong types, your energy-blasting types and your mental powers types. Hurray.

Only not hurray because these come with a caveat and that caveat is that anyone who is found to have these powers invairable - without fail, utterly unavoidably - will succumb to a very particular form of psychosis as a result of having them.

It’s quite unique and while the details vary it usually involves a variation on the theme of the bearer of these powers believing that they know how best to protect the world and those in it and that anyone who disagrees is an enemy. And sooner or later they conclude that everyone disagrees with them.

And the level of control and power these abilities have is consumate to the level of psychosis. Which is to say, the more powerful a person becomes the more unmoored from reality they also become. Which is bad.

So. As a result of this people are quite regularly tested to see if these powers are manifesting and, if they are, that person is then compelled by law to take very potent, very unpleasant suppressant drugs. These drugs utterly dampen the powers and block them out, also blocking out the psychosis to. Hurray.

Only not hurray (again) because these drugs come with a bevy of nasty side effects running the gamut from weight loss, weight gain, uncontrollable sweating, uncontrollable flatulence, insomnia, narcolepsy, vivid and horrific nightmares, hallunications and more besides. Basically, they make your life extremely miserable.

But if you don’t take them and they find out they lock you up.

And if you don’t take them and they don’t find out and you eventually lose your grip on things and lash out at a world you’ve decided doesn’t understand you then they send someone in powered armour to beat the everloving shit out of you, at which point you are locked up for a longer time than you would have otherwise and dosed to the eyeballs on drugs.

So that’s the setup.

WHO

“You’re a very strange boy, Remi. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“It might have come up.”

The main meatpuppets of this whole sorry affair are Remi, a young lad freshly found to have some of these superpowers, and Michelle, a slightly older girl who already got herself checked out and who has been on the suppressants for a little while.

Remi is a quiet, unremarkable, background boy who no-one ever thought about twice. Most people paid attention to his brother, who is well-known as a dashing, pleasant chap. Remi though is just...forgettable. Most don’t even notice that he’s been found to have superpowers. The most that happens to him is that they now look twice rather than not at all.

By contrast Michelle is somewhat bitter. Previously a fairly outgoing, popular girl she’s found herself suddenly and entirely bereft of friends and so left to suffer the particular side-effects of her suppressants on her own.

Not helped at all by her particular powers being (and being known to be) the ability to not only read minds but also put thoughts into those minds. That these abilities are entirely numbed by drugs is immaterial - people don’t like it.

Previously finding Michelle unapproachable on account of being older than himself and also not really being able to relate to her situation Remi now goes to go keep her company, feeling it the right thing to do. Michelle isn’t exactly enthusiastic but is by this point so close to desperately lonely that she’ll take any port in a storm.

They do get better though, as it turns out they have some shared interests.

Also later there’s a villain but they’re a secret, shh.

WHERE

“We figure it’s better people know how to handle themselves and what they can do. People who don’t know their limits generally overestimate them, and that’s never good for anyone, especially with this kind of thing. It’s dangerous.”

The plot - such as it is - basically involves Remi discovering he has these things, having to take suppressants, making friends with Michelle, Michelle (whose mother knows people who knows people) informing her new friend about a hush-hush place where they are apparently working on some way of avoiding taking the drugs while also avoiding going mad and getting locked away, going there, doing stuff and then...

Yeah.

WHY

“I wonder what all this could be seen as a metaphor for, you know? If someone was looking at our struggles and tribulations from the outside, as it were. If they were watching us in a film,” said Bellamy, holding his hands up with his fingers out at angles to form a rectangle he squinted through. The others looked at him. Bellamy said odd stuff, yes, but this was a step beyond.

“My life is not a metaphor,” Ruth growled.

There’s no real overarching message or theme in the story. I’m not trying to make a point. You might think, what with the drugs and the emphasis on the side effects and the negative attitude towards those with powers that I’m trying to make a point, but I’m not.

Ultimately it’s an excuse to have a grumpy characters (Michelle) make one friend (Remi) and...stuff.

Also power armour!

WELL

“I was an adult. A regular adult. Drugs kept me safe, kept me in the lines. Paid bills, fretted over money, got spat on - you know, the usual. And for what? What? What did I get out of it? Nothing. What does anyone get out of that? Nothing! At least when the wheels come off - and oh, the wheels are coming off, let me tell you - there’ll be something for people to do!”

The issues with Growing Pains are many. Remi needs adjusting. The plot needs to be a plot. Everything needs tightening up.

Presumably if I GOT IT DONE I could then look at it as a whole and see where the larger problems lie, but that sounds dangerously close to drafting and that’s just INSANE.

So who knows?

#Amwriting #Writblr #Writeblr #Writing #Growing Pains #Candidate for completion

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tessatechaitea · 5 years

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Scarab #3

Every time I see a Glenn Fabry cover, I assume I'm about to read about Jesse Custer.

I also know the term "misdirection"! Look at all the titties!

I wanted to say I knew the word "legerdemain" because it's way fancier but it wasn't as specific as I wanted to be. But I still wrote the previous sentence where I say wanted to write a different sentence so that you know the thing I wanted you to be impressed by in the first place. Meanwhile, Eleanor is still flying around in the Net having profound Vertigo thoughts. If you're speculating, "I bet she thinks about her first kiss and the first time she got her period and her father's funeral and the rain on her wedding day," I'm aghast. How'd you know?! Fucking clever of you, mate. Two new characters are introduced: Sidney Sometimes and his sidekick (not named! I'm not even sure "Sidney Sometimes" is the other guy's name). They're Fortean dudes publishing a Fortean magazine. But this one is heavy on the sex and mutilation and probably drugs. Sidney's upset that his alien rape story has fallen through and now has to decide if he should run the Manson interview this month or next month alongside the DIY surgery issue. I'm sure these characters will fit into the story later but for now they just seem like a one page dumping ground of John Smith's story ideas.

Sure, every teeaboo knows what a Clanger is now. But back in 1993, American audiences wouldn't know what the fuck this was about.

Speaking of teeaboos, I've got a new idea for a streaming service: I'm the only customer and I'm paying a single British person to upload all the shows I want to watch on a private YouTube channel. Come on, somebody! I need a reliable source for full episodes of Taskmaster! Marty is the guy watching some Clangers. He's still bitter that all the men drowned themselves without him. Imagine having self-esteem that low that you're hurt and angry that nobody invited you to the mass suicide? I guess he could also be affected by magic but I'd rather think he's got the same kinds of problems that I do. I mean that we all have.

See? He's Everyman!

Scarab arrives in Whitehaven, the town without any men (except for me. I mean Marty). He realizes something bad is happening in Whitehaven because, um, women are running things, I guess? Maybe his subconscious is reacting to an article he forgot he read about how hundreds of dead and bloated men washed up on the shores of nearby towns for weeks. It doesn't seem like the kind of thing you'd forget too readily but remember Scarab was a super old guy for the first two issues. Or maybe Louis is just a Comicsgater at heart. He walks into a town full of women and thinks, "What the fuck is wrong with this comic book I'm in?! Where are all the men? Fucking pandering bullshit!" It's also possible he senses the magic monster at the center of this mystery. But that's not as much fun to speculate about. Louis meets Marty who tells him how every woman in town is now four months pregnant and how the matriarch of the town is living with a monster. He's going to take his shotgun and put things right. I don't know how a shotgun does that but then I'm not a fucking cuckoo nutso whackjob who thinks every problem can be solved with physical violence. Scarab probably thinks there's a better answer too. I don't mean to suggest he doesn't also think physical violence will be the answer. This is still a comic book, for fucks sake! He'll probably just concentrate the violence on the monster while I assume Marty is just planning on going around shooting pregnant women. It turns out the god Pan is fucking everybody in town. He also drove all the men into the sea. But for some reason, he couldn't figure out how to deal with Marty because how do you get a guy with a broken leg to kill himself? It's impossible! The only flaw in an otherwise perfect plan! Unless Marty wasn't driven to suicide because Marty is trans. It's possible because later that night when Marty goes to shoot Pan in the face, something entirely different happens instead.

Marty was definitely fucked by Pan (raped? Probably! But who knows what happens when you get a whiff of a lustful goat god?!). But what is he trying to show Louis? That he's suddenly pregnant? Or, with his pants open like that, has he lost his cock?

Scarab #3 Rating: C. I'm super confused by this ending. Is the art just not sufficient to portray what Marty is upset about? Is he simply upset that he's all beaten and bloody due to being raped by Pan? Is he holding his pants that way because they were torn off during the violence or because he's trying to show Louis his genital region? Or is he holding his pants that way to show that he's suddenly pregnant? It's possible because the art could be suggesting a swollen stomach. Rarely do I find the art failing me in a comic book to this degree. I suppose the writing is also failing but I only think that's because this final image was supposed to portray whatever the dialogue was leaving out. The good thing is that I don't have to be confused for a full month because I've got the next issue waiting for me in my stack! Corrections: It was brought to my attention that The Phantom Stranger has more than ten fans. Although no proof was provided other than that The Phantom Stranger has gotten published in more than its initial series. I'm not sure that's enough proof though because I've purchased a lot of comic books about characters I didn't give a shit about and by writers I actively hated. But I will grant that the person providing me with this information was also a fan of The Phantom Stranger. So in my previous commentary, I should have said The Phantom Stranger had eleven fans.

#Scarab #Vertigo #DC Comics #DC #John Smith #Scot Eaton

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demonslayvr · 5 years

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VERSES RUNDOWN.

'fore blazing home came atumbling ; there was a family of four ( childhood v. )

PRE GAMES / NOVEL’S / MANGA’s. pretty clear -- this is any interaction that has been plotted or otherwise during dante’s childhood til the fire. by default he’s going to be about 6 - 8 years of age with the latter age at least a couple months before the fire.

quite indeterminate yet the bang of a gun and the slash of a sword still remain a constant ( undetermined v )

PRETTY OBVIOUS. i haven’t made a decision where shit goes yet thus its undetermined. will change during thread once we plot more on it or i figure something out myself.

not everything has a simple ending. crashing demons is easy but other things ? that can be tough ( multifandom v )

GENERAL CROSSOVER / MULTIVERSE v. pretty generic verse for when either dante himself or another character outside of the devil may cry canon gets tossed comes inside it. i’ll probably branch off if and whenever i make verses for in - fandom specific threads when i build something for each one of them but this is it for now. sometimes this verse tag will accompany another one ; which just means whichever verse he’s in and what you should follow development wise is connected. basically just a multi - fandom tag for crossover threads, lads.

die trash man ; take your sword and SHOVE IT ( crack )

GENERAL CRACK. as the package says it’s just a verse / tag for crack whenever it happens. sometimes it may

a flash to a past that holds bitter air. pain was a story here. you wish not to go back ( post dmc5 / alternate interaction v )

ALTERNATE INTERACTIONS. pretty much like with the multifandom verse tag this one is simply going to go with any other version of himself dante interacts with. might get latched onto with another verse tag just for my own sanity but . . yep.

low feelings ; simply moving along to find dangers and distractions ( devil may cry one v. )

SET JUST BEFORE, DURING OR AFTER DMC1 AND BEFORE FOUR. pretty much as the previous sentence says lads. he’s an angstee boy but not as angsty as his two self i guess lmao. but yeah, this verse is a huge back track in terms of development and how he is in the verse below this one.

bang bang bang kiss of the gun & blade ; where are we? ( post dmc5 - main )

POST DMCV. follows the full OG dmcv canon til end - depending on interaction this could mean that any vergil written with and dante are in hell still doing whatever the fuck they please or after the fact and home and going on with their lives. or trying ; considering vergil is back in his life and alive. this is also the DEFAULT verse of the blog.

there's a fire in your veins that speaks your losses yet you continue to bend in remembrance ( atla / lok v. )

SHUNNED. known for killing his twin brother, his very name and even more so in taking jobs to pay the bills -- jobs that more so upset the delicate balance between the human and spirit realms.

dante sparda comes from the fire nation -- his father a previous high general in the army ; one that tried to broker peace in a time where it was unheard of while the fire nation ruled. his father met eva when he was traveling the earth nation and secretly begun a relationship with her. their love was beautiful, eventually in as much secret as possible eva bore two young boys: vergil and dante sparda.

happiness was not to last however as wind was caught of the affair and the children, leaving eva and the young sons to go on the run with sparda defending their escape. the name sparda was drug through the mud as the man was never heard from again after that night. unknown what became of him as deflected firebending set the house ablaze.

short years pass, spending it on the run from those who want to end the chapter of embarrassment -- but it finally catches up. one evening eva comes running, telling her boys to go -- to run and hide. forget their names but stay at each other’s side. the twins do as told and don’t look back ; the last time they see her. however in their escape they end up separated, captured by soldiers of the fire nation. dante’s anger and despair of losing his entire family causes him to lose control ; lashing out on the soldiers that caught him and running away

“ you must change your name ; forget your past and start a new life as someone else. “

that he does. he changes his name and disappears, alone. fast forwarding a couple years he’s a spirit hunter ; taking jobs that rid “ evil spirits “ that cause issue or problem for anyone that pays a good amount. a mercenary that cuts down those who’ve wronged the wrong person ; non and bender’s alike. his father’s sword, rebellion, at his back to assist and create a dancing display of fire just as much as his bending. he’s a difficult one to get close to but once you cool him off ( haha ) he’s a loyal friend and ally.

with the war over at the end of the series he’s more vocal of who he is -- even though he was previously but with some of the fire nation’s “ norms “ kind of relaxing from fire - lord zuko’s rule . . he’s his father’s son. his mother’s son.

lok verses are basically . . kinda the same. except i guess he’s older . . ??

pay off the debt to save your skin ; something within broke and former gentle soul crushed under weight ( dmc 2.0 v )

CANON DIVERGENT. dante snapped, perhaps it was inevitable - perhaps losing too many people tore what little the cambian could handle to pieces and the person that emerged from it was more a threat than he was before. after the events of devil may cry 1 after realizing that he had ( supposedly ) killed his brother there was something in him that couldn’t handle it and everything begun to crumble.

in this timeline something in him changed, and while it wasn’t immediate – little things when he would have been understanding over a situation didn’t sit as they should. but it happened quickly. with trish’s betrayal he didn’t help her, allowing her to get crushed by the tumbling rocks ; simply standing there and watch it happen. its drawn out, with him coming over to crouch beside her as she struggled to heal. in his allowance bore cruelty, snarling that she should have known better to betray him – mundus shouldn’t have done what he did and expect him to now not try and go after him.

he, as he does in the normal timeline, states that while she looks like his mother that she has no soul, no fire and for that she’s just a puppet. he shoots her more than once, killing her – the last time he sheds a tear. he reaches mundus, who commends him for his actions yet the hybrid isn’t having it. the fight with mundus goes about the same but with dante killing him for ultimately forcing him to murder his brother, being the one who set the orders to burn down his home – twice – and turn his life upside down.

he goes through the portal mundus opened to try and escape and ultimately assumes himself as the new king of the underworld. he still runs his business since even though he’s king there will always be factions that don’t like it due to his bastard blood and he’s more than happy to snuff it out.

his attitude is mostly intact ( though this is said loosely since he’s less talkative and jovial ) though now it’s unsettling at times since his jokes and humor can be a bit morbid – let alone how his aura feels. its dangerous and uncomfortable to be around ; his care for humans as a whole is almost non - existent except for a small inkling for lady.

BIG NOTE: THIS TIMELINE IS SET AFTER DEVIL MAY CRY ONE, KIND OF SKIPS FOUR ( though it IS likely nero still exists but dante doesn’t care much about it or know ) SLIGHTLY INVOLVES TWO ( aka: dante gets annoyed that some idiot human is making helicopters messed up with demonic juju and wants to become king. so he kills arius ) AND INVOLVES SOME CONTENT OF FIVE.

to enact your revenge most had been taken ; body & mind broken so it could begin ( witcher v )

———– destiny. you hear it more than you’d like to admit. destiny is what brought your parents together ; one monster and the other a witch. two were born, twins and raised in care by the witch til fate came to pass and ripped the three of you left apart. in trying to halt destiny the father, sparda, had done his best to hold it off ; disappearing one afternoon when the boys had been young ——– so long ago. his hope ?? that staying away would bring a kinder reality and future.

fire and blood, a mother doing best to protect her children was found disemboweled on the floor within the crumbled castle foundations. the youngest child was told to hide, hide away and if the mother didn’t resurface . . to run. she didn’t, but the youngest fought his way out of the castle —- skills of his mother surfacing with an aptitude for beast slaying in the same scope. his father’s sword, created by hellish and beastly means was his and aptly used to start a revenge — to KILL demons in his mothers name. and in his brothers — as both were believed to have perished in the attack.

in a short time and with training the young hybrid killed demons for a price ; eventually catching the eye of a witcher. the nature of the hybrid himself and the skills he held were of interest — brought to kaer morhen to be trained as a witcher. almost losing himself in the process yet he endured, it further altering his physiology that was already different with the hybrid nature he had.

with the trials and effective torture to be a witcher an astounding success he buried into the extensive training to pursue the beast that slayed his family while also being a monsterslayer for hire.

———– destiny. you hear it more than you’d like to admit. destiny and fate has brought you here. brought you a thought lost ache in your heart for the family lost all to avenge them and kill the beast that killed them. you feign your disinterest, your lack of care but there is much of it in soul. destiny is a cruel mistress, son of sparda. yet perhaps she may gift you the KINDNESS to provide retribution if you are to live long enough.

Notes 1: with his father’s blood and how he is part beast, his body temperature is more abnormally hot than normal – able to reach just below lava temperatures without it seeming to create any problems for him. Notes 2: his magic is mostly fire based, secondly offensive ( akin to geralt’s in show how it can push things back, etc ). with the fire being used to distract he’s referenced to a dragon at times which he ignores. Notes 3: dante’s still trans because i say so ; while magic used to be used to help him pass he’s since has procedure through coin to get effectively top surgery — the scars easy to pass off due to his occupation. bottom surgery hasn’t been attempted but with becoming a witcher, like the rest, he’s infertile. Notes 4. he’s school of the wolf because i said so, wolves are cool and it has geralt so sue me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

you wished you could forget ; everything else seems to blur but not him. not the brother you lost. ( IT v. )

AFTER THE FIRE you found yourself in foster care with your brother in tow. foster turned into adoption with the family that adopted the two siblings ended up bringing the two of them too derry, maine. immediately the youngest sibling knew something was off about the town ; the atmosphere unsettling but kept it to himself, not wanting to blow the change he had with his brother at having a new life. ( he and vergil are still cambion’s, but their power is, like, kinda not as Large as it is normally. still half demons tho folks. )

the youngest had trouble settling in a new town, smaller than the last – economically ( as he and his twin were upper class before this ) and town size in general with more seeming conservative values. he was lucky to find himself in a slightly liberal and understanding household as he was a transgender kid who no one knew any less of. something he was more careful to keep to himself.

everything was fine, the brothers settled in and all was well until it wasn’t. exploring the woods and the barrens – finally opening up to his brother that things were strange in the town and he could feel something off. they went looking but in doing so . . there had been an opening of weakness for the two – distractions and a trap. their mother, burned and in pain asking for their help ; of course the two came closer. there was a small difference in this faux recreation and trauma that dante noticed – calling out for his brother to stay away but, unfortunately the youngest saw the eldest fall victim to the trap – terrified and running away when he couldn’t do anything but possibly fall victim too.

time passed, school continued on with whispers and comments on how the twin had probably did it himself, causing the kid to isolate himself from everyone even though he knew what he say. adults didn’t believe him but there was a group that seemed to have had a run in with this . . fuckin’ clown.

( going off: smol™ dante getting involved with the losers after he straight up talks to one of them about what happened and what he saw / big™ dante having gone off like the rest of the losers doing his own thing aka kill other demon / eldritch things as normal kinda sorta and then re - meet up with them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

same person but different mistakes ; still wrought pain upon brothers ( altered outcome / divergent v. )

CANON DMC DIVERGENT. pretty much a what if / reversal if dante led the life vergil did instead of vergil himself. it’s pretty much the same events but with dante the cause of them or involved instead of vergil. his attitude is close to what 2.0 dante is but not entirely there in terms of destruction. however he is still trying to deal with the aftermath of nelo angelo fame and dmcv’s whole thing.

ARISE ; for you are reborn into something greater. ARISE baricontralto angelo - fight. ( post dmc 5 div. nelo angelo dante v )

HE HAD BEEN COCKY. the cambion had been cocky upon returning back with his twin from the underworld ; cocky that with his twin that nobody could beat them if they simply worked together. and he was right. he was right up until he was wrong and time, well . . time wasn’t kind. it had been nine months since their return from the underworld from cutting down the qliphoth and in that time a familiar blue amulet found itself back in dante’s possession. it had been lost for several decades, having been lost to the boy during the day he had come home to find gavreel and the family slaughtered on the lawn.

he kept it close, he knew the meaning – he knew that there was peace again but . . he knew the danger of once again having this but would not dare get rid of it – he’d ride the coaster until it stopped. he’d be happy to have this shred of happiness and he felt he was finally allowed to have something – happy to have his brother back and have some semblance of family.

that was, well, until he lost the amulet. he didn’t notice that he did, believing it was still in pocket during a small run in with demons ; a job that he had taken alone – it seemed that fate was playing her hand that day. it had been dropped during an evasion and was lost upon his shift ahead – he didn’t even spot it. the job became less easy, it tiring him considerably as the small group of demons became larger – and while it was initially a challenge . .

it soon became taxing. as the larger the numbers the more exhausted the demon hunter became, the more he started to slip up.

it was only then did he realize that this was no job. it was a trap and he was caught in a net he couldn’t tear himself from. a familiar feeling emerged, one he hadn’t felt for decades. a demonic force that he had thrown fury at that same time. he hadn’t been this week before. he knew who this was and . . he was in trouble. this trap had been calculated and he had fallen into it hook, line and sinker.

the distraction of the feeling, of the demonic energy rising in the space leaves him vulnerable – attacks slicing at his back, his arms and legs – a lucky slash to his throat leaves him struggling and gripping his throat. he hits his knees before he realizes he does ; he ultimately — unintentionally — bows to the demon king before he passes out, demonic weapons and claws slashing into his back.

the next redacted years in the demon world are a nightmare that post angelo dante would have trouble remembering for all that happened are buried deep in repressed memories. the years blur together, but dante holds for a long time – dante suffers, he burns, he aches, he struggles – he perseveres. for a time anyway. he recalls and holds onto the trade out . . that this could have been vergil here instead of he. last minute changes, bouts of laughter as he accepted the job and ran out the door.

see you soon he had said. but the jovial air had long past. memories begin to muddle, to ebb and fade in and out as things became foggy. a struggle to remember – a struggle to fight but . . not all fights can be won. this one eventually was lost.

out of years of torturous pain and bloodshed arose a new pet, a puppet that was loyal and true. one that slaughtered doppelganger after doppelganger of brother and self, of friends and allies that the king knew that the former knew. he was satisfied that his little puppet would do just fine. that perhaps he could lure in his old ; have the complete set – for use of the younger did fine in breaking the elder.

this soldier has two forms ; one that fed to his devil trigger ( generic nelo angelo – not much power is used for it – basically it’s dante on the regular tapping into demonic power with his first devil trigger. he’s stronger than normal, having given into his addiction to human and demon blood and grown more powerful because of it )

and another that feeds into his sin devil trigger ( essentially the ‘ dragon ‘ - esque look. however its almost imperfect in how the black scales have become the darkish red / brown ; something not quite right. scales do fall off without warning from time to time, revealing a near lava like flow underneath. )

baricontralto . . a name to be used to not arouse suspicion ; a soldier that would destroy armies and bring cities to their knees in the name of his master. time would be swift for the pawn to be used, for the king himself was pleased. he was cocky with his new toy . . and it wasn’t long before he was to be used . .

despite all your losses & destruction ; despite trauma & trials . . my darling boy you’re still you. ( undertale v. )

[ fight ] [ act ] [ item ] [ mercy ]

↳ [ dante sparda ] ↳ [ check ]

IT WAS UNPRECEDENTED. a human and a monster coming together and falling in love. falling in love after the war to a human witch that found herself in the closed off underground after a tumble. sparda protected eva from the monsters at first, keeping her under his care – yet the umbra witch found herself using her powers and skills to assist in healing a monster in peril.

keeping eva out of harms way was . . difficult due to her humanity being a source of contention. monsters wanted to escape. eva rather enjoyed being alive. in the end eva’s healing magic to save and protect those around her and her love and the fact that she was older and not prime use to open a proper exit to the human world. asgore swore eva off limits to monsters as she was kind and a healer to them all.

in time sparda and her married and she bore two children ; hybrids – part monster and part human.

but not even the king’s word could stop those who still feared humans and humanity. those who held rage toward a species that had caused so much trouble and locked them away for thousands of years, if not more. a fire erupted into the underground, started at the quaint yet spacious house and spread further throughout the underground. by the time it had been put out – eva had been recovered, dead, in the home attempting to escape herself but the boys nowhere to be found. with her last ounce of magic she had sent her boys away, far away and out of the underground and topside.

now alone and separated from his remaining family and traumatized by the attack to his home the hybrid remained alone – growing up such until he found himself protecting humanity against other monsters ; demons. demons and monsters that had managed to stay in the human world but grew dangerous and lost themselves. dante sparda grew to love his humanity yet slowly accept the monster part of himself.

with a job giving him whispers of the brother he thought he lost through his own hand now somehow residing in the underground . . he flew in to investigate, still holding some anger over what had been done to his family yet . . holding determination and patience to deal with the rumors and what he’s about to come across.

#{ this will be added to as i make more verses / plot with others to make locked - }#{ verses but yeah }#🔥 // i'm here because a jackass devil dragged me in kicking and screaming. howdy demons its ya boy ! ( mun )

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