#we'll tear it down and build one that looks exactly the same it its place when its veen five years and you move out. maybe the stovetop will

[a-nywherebut-here]

I miss when houses and trailers and apartments were built with at least a little bit of love

[pesterloglog]

Jane Crocker, Jake English

Act 6, page 4208-4217

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began bothering golgothasTerror [GT] at 11:40

GG: J, how goes the bunnyquest?

GT: Ive barely even begun!

GG: Tell me about it.

GT: Youre off to a sluggish start then too i gather?

GG: Dad has the whole house in full fatherly lockdown mode. Talk about blowing a few measly "assassination attempts" way out of proportion!

GG: So I'm currently mulling over my next move.

GG: What is it that has you hamstrung? Did you ever track down the slippery Mr. Strider?

GT: Not exactly.

GT: His stupid doppelglasses have set me on a wild goose chase to go pry his dumb robots chest open and swipe its uranium.

GG: Sounds dangerous!

GT: No shit.

GT: I think id rather deal with the monsters.

GG: Why is it that our two best friends in the world always seem to place themselves at the source of all our problems, while simultaneously presenting their only solutions?

GT: I know right???

GG: I'm debating whether or not to enlist his help in the matter of my current imprisonment. But I'd rather keep it as a plan of last resort.

GT: Dont do it jane its a trap!!!

GG: We'll see.

GG: So I take it you're out and about now?

GT: Hell no. I spent so much time haggling with those confounded shades im only leaving my room just now.

GG: Right. Well, not to keep you too long, since we both still have our missions ahead of us, but I wanted to tell you about that dream I had.

GT: Oh yeah!

GT: I was curious about that. Tell me everything and make it snappy!

GT: *Whips up bucket of freshly popped corn.*

GG: Hoo. :B

GG: Ok, but, I should say that the nature of the dream was a bit worrisome.

GG: And I'm concerned it may have implications for the game we're about to play.

GG: So it's probably best that I tell you about it before you leave.

GT: Well shoot.

GT: Ok then lay it on me jane.

GG: I woke up on the planet which we have been told about by our mutual acquaintance.

GG: The one covered in golden cities. Prospit, remember?

GT: Oh. Wouldnt it be prospits moon?

GG: Yes, you're right. It was the moon, actually. I could see the planet on the dark horizon.

GG: I was dressed in a golden dress, like a sort of nightgown, and I could fly. I left my bedroom, which was at the top of a tall tower. Surrounding me were the gold cities, just as described.

GG: Behind the skyline was darkness. But just above was a bright blue sky and puffy white clouds.

GT: That was skaia!

GG: Yes, probably.

GG: Are you sure you haven't woken up there before?

GT: Haha i WISH.

GT: I have received reports from jade about this as well. She liked to talk about her dreams on prospits moon a lot.

GG: I see. The impression I have developed is that this is supposed to be a real place, and all who dream there have shared experiences.

GG: Did Jade ever mention seeing us there?

GT: No but why would she? This was long before we were born! She was dreaming there like a hundred years ago or something.

GG: Hrmm. Anyway...

GG: I explored the moon, and began to notice people gathering in the streets.

GG: But they weren't human. They were funny looking, perfectly white creatures.

GT: Yeah those are prospitians.

GT: They have these hard carapace shells and also have something to do with chess i think?

GG: Well, I don't know if they had much to do with chess here.

GG: The more closely I observed, the more they appeared somewhat despondent.

GT: Like...

GT: Sad?

GG: Yes.

GG: I determined they were in mourning, actually.

GT: Hey.

GT: Jane you said i was in this dream. Where do i come in?

GG: Shoosh! I'm getting there.

GG: More and more Prospitians were filing out of the buildings every moment.

GG: They all began to form a single, major procession.

GG: When I got closer, I could see that some were in tears.

GG: I realized this was a funeral.

GG: I heard whispers, but couldn't make out what they were saying, so I got closer.

GG: They were all saying the same thing, over and over.

GG: "The Page is dead."

GG: "Our hope is lost."

GT: The page?

GT: Whos that?

GG: Jake.

GG: The Page was you.

GT: Oh.

GT: Drat.

GT: Are you sure?

GG: Yes, I saw your body lying in a sort of coffin, on a bed of flowers. You were dead as a doornail.

GG: Everyone was so distraught!

GG: Including me. :(

GG: But before I could get too horribly upset, let alone make sense of any of it, I woke up.

GG: I of course immediately wanted to tell you all about, but it was still well before sunrise for you, and you were surely still asleep.

GG: Then as the day went on I guess I became distracted by other things. You know how it is.

GG: I hope I'm not too late to "warn" you, though to be frank I don't have the foggiest clue what it is I'm warning you about.

GG: "Dear Jake, oh please do try not to... have already... died in my dream? Likely while you were sleeping, perhaps peacefully?"

GT: Haha yeah. I see your point.

GG: Still, I think you'll agree that it's to be viewed as a troubling omen.

GG: I care very much for you, and I don't know what I'd do if I lost you both in my dreams, and here in this world.

GG: So for whatever good it does, just please be extra careful out there today!

GT: Roger that janey!

GT: And um same goes for you about being careful what with these various rogues accosting you with foul play lately and whatnot...

GT: Because well i sure do care a lot about you too you know that.

GG: Hooray! Will do. ;B

GG: Now let's get this silly old adventure off to the races before the coat of dust it's growing gets any thicker.

GT: Booyeah!

GT: Ok good luck jane and keep me posted! C ya.

golgothasTerror [GT] ceased bothering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Love And Marriage

Spnquotebingo @spnquotebingo

Quote: You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people.–Lucifer

Mostly Memory: slant/bold. Quote:small/bold

"What the hell, Anthony!" She yelled scaring both brunettes in the bed she shared with him. The women who looked half her age scrambled off the bed in a rush and ran out of the room getting dressed as she ran out the tower. This time she was throwing objects at the genius screaming and swearing every word under the sun. And yes this wasn't the first time, but its sure as hell will be the last. "How could you do this to me!? Time and time again I forgive and you do it again!!" She tried taking control of her emotions, but they over took her and laid everything out on the table.

Tony slipped on his clothes yelling back and forth with his wife. It was a screaming match that all of New York could hear. "Maybe if you weren't such a controlling bitch I wouldn't need to rush into the arms of a women that would get off my back!" He yelled back and she was stunned into silence. Tony continued talking. "Ever since we been together you've been trying to change who I am and I got sick of it, but you were America's golden girl I couldn't dump you. You just couldn't take the hint ,sweetheart." He finished his intoxicated words got the better of him, but drunk words were sober thoughts and maybe this is exactly how he felt after all these years.

"I want a divorce." She said her voice shaking not wanting to cry in front of the man she loved and she thought loved her back. "What?!" He turned on his heels and stared at her the shouting didn't sober him up, but those four words did. "What did you say?" He asked as if he didn't hear her. "I'm through, Tony. I'm tired of this back and forth. You said it yourself your not willing to change your partying playboy ways so I'm through." She said as she went to get her phone to call her brother. "I want a divorce." Those were the final words uttered to him before she stopped talking to him all together taking off the ring made from the metal of his original reactor the diamond glowing the same blue that lulled her to sleep. Y/n twirled the ring in-between her fingers a nervous habit after the years.

Steve got to the tower from his apartment along with Bucky and Sam. His two friends walked into her bedroom to hear Tony shouting and pleading for her to listen to him. Steve went to his sister as his friends pulled the thrashing man out of the room and to a different part of the building so he could cool off. Tony in the end didn't calm down and was getting violent to the point they had to knock him out and by then Y/n was getting packed with the help of Steve

The suitcase was harshly zipped up as she rushed closing it. Tears flowed freely down her face as she packed all her things well all the things she bought herself. She wasn't running, running was for cowards she was escaping before she drowned herself in whatever kind of love she once had with her husband. Y/n breathed in through her nose as her body convulsed with another fit of silent sobs. Trying to calm down she wanted to get think clear. Did she really want to leave? No, but he didn't give her much of a choice. The light tan line on her finger just further proved she wasn't turning back...not this time. Not even for him. Y/n needed time to think without the threat of the end of the world and out from under her now ex's crushing ego.

She was shacking with anger and in grief it happened again and she was done with it all. Tony fucking Stark her husband, lover, best friend cheated on her again for the third time that she knew of. Y/n saw it she was always there at the wrong time almost like he wanted her to see how pleased he was with another. Steve came out of the bathroom with more hygiene products. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?" He asked for what feels like the hundredth time. Steve knew Y/n wasn't okay he could see it and the sight made him want to rip Stark a new one. With a deep inhale she looked up at him with s slight smile as real as she could make it. "I'm okay I just need to get out of here. Fresh air. New scenery if possible." She said as she looked longingly at a picture on the nightstand not noticing that her brother left with her bags while she stared off. The picture was of her fifth date with Tony after being together as boyfriend and girlfriend for two years, a light festival their first openly public date for cameras to capture them together making it official. America's Sweetheart with a Playboy billionaire...that headline alone should have been the first of many red flags.

The memory played vividly in her mind. Her eyes shined like stars as she dragged him behind her. It was still light outside and the small park was crowded. "Come on, Tones!" She said excitedly as she dragged him along. Many people looked at them and whispered, but they didn't care. They spent the night talking about any and everything it felt so natural. Y/n stared into the sky on their picnic blanket having already painted her lantern with a good amount of wet paint still on her hands. "We've been on what feels like a million dates and this seems like the perfect one to ask you. Will you marry me?" Tony said holding a black velvet box with a f/c diamond ring. "I thought you'll never ask!" She pulled him into a kiss paint covering his cheeks as lanterns where released. He kissed back hands resting on her hips. "Let's go home Mrs.Stark-Rogers." Tony said with a smile. "Well come on then Mr.Rogers-Stark." He was once again dragged away. "No no no my name first Steve will not hold that over me!" Y/n giggled as the memory faded into a much older one.

The twelve year old girl was getting her hair brushed by her mother. "Mama what's love like. I know you love daddy so what's it like?" She asked it's been two years since her father died ,but her mother always said she stilled loves him. "Love is a amazing feeling that doesn't happen often and sometimes it can hurt." The blonde women said to her daughter she couldn't tell her wanting love cost more then giving it. "Why will it hurt?" The young h/c girl asked turning around. "You're to young to know right now, but at some point you will." By the time Y/n turned fifteen she learned that loving someone can hurt after she stood next to her brother and best friend looking at the slab of stone that marked their mother's grave.

The first time it happened she was pissed, but not at the right person at the time. The second red flag.. Screams are what filled the house as Y/n threw clothes at the tramp that was in bed with her drunk husband. She was so anger, but that just hid the pain she was feeling three years for him to cheat. After shutting the half clothes harlot out on the front porch of the Malibu home she stormed back to Tony. He stayed in his boxers on the bed looking dazed he was drunk. "Why?" Is all she could ask as tears fell down her cheeks. The billionaire stood up and walked toward her he wiped her tears. "I'll change. I promise." He kissed her head. She believed him she had faith that he couldn't change for them. After all Y/n did the same she gave up being a hero along side her brother because he told her he already worries about getting home to her as Ironman no need to add the stress of not knowing if she'll get home. So she hung up her red, white, and blue catsuit for him.

After a year Y/n sat in her art studio wear she sold her and other rising artist artwork after Tony said she shouldn't paint in the tower,she painted with her brother laughing messing with colors. She was thankful she put down plastic tarp beforehand a giggle rang out when Natasha walked through the door. Without saying anything she drops a magazine on the table of brushes next to Y/n. On the cover was Tony kissing some red head though a window tears welled in her eyes as she wiped her hands he eyes not leaving the cover till it was picked up off the table. Natasha comforted her as Steve took the magazine and paced. " Am I stupid for trusting him? Thinking he would change?" She asked as the waterworks flowed. "No ,if anyone is stupid its him. Ever since he came out as Ironman he thought he was untouchable. God imma kill him!" The red head said while Steve was flexing his hand not wanting to hit any of the stored art pieces. The third red flag for all to see.

The bus rocked back and forth as she looked over at her brother sleeping next to her. They were heading to the airport and he was going to see her off before possibly killing Tony. Speaking of she looked down at her phone and saw dozens of missed calls and hundreds of unread text. She felt that the world was so much bigger after leaving, after getting away from the place that no longer felt like a home. Turning back to the window a memory came to surface as a teenage girl sat on the bus watching old Brooklyn go by. She thought life was so slow she wanted to grow up faster and experience life. Y/n wanted to find love like her parents had. "What are you thinking about doll?" She turned and in Steve's place was Bucky her adoptive big brother. "Nothing important, James." She said with a sigh as the old modeled cares turned back to modern vehicles and yellow taxi's.

Tony woke up and ran around the tower while calling and texting his wife. "Friday track Y/n' s phone. He said as he went to the lab to get in his suit. "She's as NYC airline." The irish voice answered as he stepped into the suit letting it close around him. Before the hatch could open completely he was flying out of the tower to the airport. "Any idea which flight?" He asked wanting to get there before it's to late. "No boss, but the next flight leaving is heading for U.K and boarding in fifteen minutes." Time was running out he needed ever second he could spare. "We'll make it in ten." That night Ironman flew to save whatever he had left.

Y/n held her ticket in her shaking hands her breath uneven. Steve left after the bus dropped her off they said their goodbyes not making the separation hurt any less. Her thoughts came back to Tony all the good times made her smile, but the dark clouds took them over soon after. It felt so right to be in his arms thinking about the future they had with each other within seconds that became a distant memory. What's sad is she wants to go back wondering if she held on to those moments longer they'll last forever. The ring she slipped back on her finger weighed a ton. Y/n didn't have the strength to take it off not for good at least and this made her feel weak. Pain was heavy in her heart from the constant ache, but the little voice kept saying maybe if we tried harder he would have loved us the way we love him, maybe rushing into a relationship wasn't the best idea, maybe he's happier without us ,maybe not telling him about the positive test was the best option ,maybe...maybe.

A hand resting on her stomach she wanted to laugh, but that would have brought on a fresh wave of tears. She started off the day without Tony in bed and sicker then she's been since her pre-serum years. Y/n went to the doctor completely covered form any prying eyes and the test were clear she couldn't believe it she took about ten test in her studio bathroom before heading back to the tower. Howard warned her and Steve that the serum might sterilize them, but at the time both of them were to small and sickly and she knew getting pregnant might kill her anyways so they both agreed to it. Y/n wished she could hug the man today he made her better and let her have a gift she never thought was possible. A baby was growing inside her. Tony never really talked about kids and neither did she since that wasn't a possibility before, but the moment she held five of the clearer test she wanted to rush into his arms and have him be the first to know. That quickly fell apart that evening and now she's here.

The suit landed out side the airport and Tony immediately ran out of it into the building looking through his tented shades he followed the path Friday set for him rushing through security. "Now boarding flight A145 to United Kingdom. Ahora aborda—" The intercom rang out. He was running out of time. There he saw h/c hair one of a couple dozen in line due to the oddly timed flight. "Y/N!!" Many heads turned at the shout while so gasped and whispers started. She looked at him and froze. His eyes looked bloodshot and he wore baggy sweats and a AC/DC shirt. Turning back around she tried to get on the plane quicker, but a hand grabbed her arm. "Please listen to me. I'm so so sorry! I'm a fucking moron okay? I know I just keep screwing up between us and I know you're tired of me saying I'll change, but if it means I keep you in my life I'll do damn near anything." Tony's voice shook as his eyes welled with tears people crowed to see the Starks some seemed to clued in on the subject while others were lost. "You can't fix this Tony. There's nothing to fix between us you said your piece and actions speak louder then words there is no saving this." Y/n whimpered holding her hand in her own.

"I can save us, N/n! Please just give me a chance too. You and me against the world right?" She shook her head no as she looked into his brown eyes with her glassy e/c ones. "Wrong. You just don't get it do you? You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people. And I gave you more then enough chances to change because God I changed so much for you!! I gave up saving people, gave up painting in the tower, stopped helping Pepper with business, stopped going to briefings, and so much more. All for you and you couldn't do one thing for me." With quivering hands she gently brushed the tears from his cheeks letting her hands go from his shoulders to his hands. "I loved you, Anthony. I always will have a special place in my heart for you, but clearly the same doesn't go for you." Y/n now held one of his hands bringing his knuckles to her lips giving them a chaste kiss.

She let go of his hand as she stepped back from him many of the passengers having already boarded the plane. "Don't say goodbye." He said voice small and weak. "...don't think of this as a goodbye. We just met at the wrong time in the wrong place. Maybe I'll come back to you and just maybe we can start again from the beginning, but until then this is a see you later." She turned and went on board as he stood their feet glued the the floor. Looking down at the hand she held the ring sat in his palm she left him with a piece of his heart while she took the rest with her. What is a marriage without love

————————————————————————————————————————————

A/n this is the second to last one before the full masterlist is posted. Fyi I wrote a happy ending and if it's really wanted I'll make a short one-shot of it but angst ending for now.

Next quote is a free space and I'm going ham!!!!

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Two - Gutless

WORD COUNT: 4k

WARNINGS: Death (murder), brief descriptions of gore, Isla and Jax doing something very illegal

MASTERLIST

The morning sun was beating down upon the pair a little bit harsher now, inducing a sheen of sweat to coat over Jax's forehead.

But the perspiration could've formed as a result of coming to the realization that he'd just blown the brains out of an ATF agent, left his body to decompose on Tara's bathroom floor, and spilled his guts--not even twenty-four hours later--to Isla.

Jax knew that he could trust her with anything--he always had been able to trust her with anything. But there was something telling him that she didn't exactly feel too wonderful about his revelation.

Her arm lifted to run across her forehead, ridding the skin of a few salty droplets.

"What do you mean--"

"I mean I put a bullet through his fuckin' skull and blew his brains out, Isla! That's what I mean."

He ran a thumb over his lips, realizing that he should've kept his tone subdued so close to the main doors of the clubhouse.

"Jesus, Jax." She breathed out, pinching the bridge of her nose as he started to pace quietly. "I--I can't believe you're telling me this."

Well, she could. Really, there wasn't anything she could've put past Jax anymore. And when it came to Tara...The man was an idiot. Always had been.

"Why was Kohn even at her place?"

Jax was fidgety. Uneasy. She couldn't blame him for that, could she? Because he'd just fucking killed a man--but still.

He wasn't even trying to hide it.

"Or did you lure him there or something--"

"Shut up." He growled, grabbing her bicep with his left hand as he pulled her to the side of the building. "Just listen to me."

"I'm listening, Jax, but you don't seem to be telling me a lot."

Realizing that he wasn't offering very much explanation, he nodded. Jax let go of her and beckoned her closer, pleading eyes melting her fucking heart.

"Isla, please." He wrapped his arms around her, minding the bloodied shirt.

"What do you want me to do?"

Ringed fingers splayed over her cheek, pushing stray blonde hairs out of her face. He sighed hard. Exasperated.

"Help me get rid of him--"

"Jackson--"

"I'm not asking you to lug his dead body to the creek and throw him in. I'm just asking you to offer a helping hand and be a lookout or something."

Isla searched his features for a morsel of something that'd indicate Jax was messing with her. But he was dead serious--his face set to neutral, eyes glazed over.

"But--I--what about Cameron?"

"Tara and Chibs have it covered." He murmured, heeding the apprehension sail over her.

She was as strong and willing as she possibly could've been. Isla was consistently the person that Jax and Opie would turn to for advice when it came to their girls, or when they needed to be pointed in the right direction.

But he'd never asked her to do such a thing before.

Her loyalty outweighed her nervousness, however. He knew she'd never say no to helping him with such a matter--but it was still asking too much.

Chibs would've been furious that Jax felt it necessary to beg Isla for assistance during such a time, too. Hell, Gemma would've admonished him for it.

"Where is he?" She mumbled, hearing the clubhouse door open and an irritated grunt sounding from the front of the lot.

Jax held her close to his chest, a hand tracing over the skin of her shoulder that'd been exposed as the shirt fell to the middle of her arm.

"Tara's place." His whisper was monotonous, bordering on lifeless.

"Okay--when do you need to do this?"

He eyed Tig storming from the building and toward his motorcycle, completely unaware of the two conspiring.

"Tonight." His voice came low and gravely. "I'll ride to her place now, and you go home, get yourself cleaned up, do whatever you've gotta do today, and we'll head there--"

"I'm not cleaning myself up. I'm already covered in blood--I don't think I need to destroy another shirt."

"Okay." Jax's lips rubbed together, almost turning upward into a smile. "But don't follow me out, alright? Go tell Gemma that you don't know where I went, and then you take it from there."

"And if Tara asks..."

A gentle kiss against her forehead almost forced tears to collate in her eyes.

"She won't ask--she knows I've gotta do this."

Isla silenced herself, though she nodded and watched as Tig--pissed as hell--rode out of the lot and onto the street.

She guessed that he was still piqued after she and Chibs yelled at him.

And she was still pissed at Jax, but for a different reason now.

This time, she wanted to slap the shit out of the blonde idiot standing before her, requesting help with disposing of a literal dead body.

Isla couldn't quite believe that Jax had turned to her and not somebody like Opie--somebody who would be able to help a little more physically--but she could only assume that it was more of a trust thing.

He had a lot of faith in her and she lauded that. But it also saw her get thrust into some questionable situations.

"You look like you're gonna puke." Juice stifled a laugh as Isla padded in, the bottom of her shirt wrenched between bloodied fingers. "Are you good?"

"Yeah." Instantly, she responded. "I'm fine. I just need to get my purse."

Clay was nowhere to be seen--possibly in the back room with Chibs and Tara--but Gemma's eyes focused on the blonde's form as she strolled across the wood.

"You don't look fine. Come sit for a little while."

"I'm gonna head home--"

"Where'd Jax go?" Gemma cut in, lifting an eyebrow conspicuously.

Tell Gemma that you don't know where I went.

"I don't know." She frowned, sitting on the barstool opposite the woman. "We shared a cigarette, talked about Abel, and then he told me he had to go--where, I don't know."

Did she feel bad about roping his child into their little lie? Yeah, a bit. But it was foolproof. Gemma never would've suspected anything to do with Abel because, really, Jax brought him up to everyone whenever he got the chance to.

"Ah. He's probably headed over to see him. I'll go--"

"I wouldn't." Isla pushed. "He's trying to get some alone time with him. He said that he hasn't really been able to spend one-on-one time with Abel all too much."

Which wasn't a lie. Jax needed to spend those rare solitary moments with his baby because his mother couldn't seem to leave St. Thomas for more than three hours at a time.

Gemma just hummed, turning away.

She knew how he felt. But she was Abel's grandma--she just wanted to know that he was safe and being looked after.

"I'm sorry, that was mean...I just think he's a little confused right now, and could use five minutes with his son."

"No, you're right." She nodded, unable to heed the trepidation flitting over Isla because she felt bad about coming down on Gemma in such a way.

That woman was a Godsend to Jax, his children, and even Isla's family. She didn't deserve to be randomly admonished for wanting to visit her baby's baby. Not after everything she'd done for them.

Well, besides trying to murder the mother of Jax's first born. That was a little fucked up--even by SAMCRO's standards.

But Isla adored her. For everything she had done for her during the time she'd resided in Charming, Gemma was regarded extremely fucking highly in her book.

"Go home, baby. Get some sleep, too--you need to rest."

Isla waved her off. "I'm not tired, just feelin' a little gross."

"I'd bet." Gemma pushed her lips together, smiling as much as she could've. "You go yourself pretty again, and swing by later for dinner."

"Yes ma'am." She mock saluted, reaching for her purse.

Goodbyes between Isla, Gemma, and Juice were uttered for a few moments before the blonde made her way to the door.

Her eyebrows raised inquisitively, urging her to turn back to the duo.

"Gem?"

"Mhm?"

"Was Tig alright?" Sincerely, she asked. Feeling a little guilty about snapping earlier.

Gemma didn't say anything but her head bobbed in confirmation, providing Isla with the answer she needed.

The Irish in her shone through during instances like those. She was brash in her actions, words, and the fact she'd always speak before she thought--but the solemnity with which she would ponder, apologize after making a mistake, was just so plainly Irish.

Isla was kind. Caring. Nurturing. She was everything that SAMCRO was not--but, at the same time, everything that Chibs was. Reliable. Loyal. Committed. A true ride or fucking die.

Everybody trusted her, and nobody second-guessed confiding in her.

And, once again, that had its reparations alongside a multitude of perks.

"Holy mother of Jesus." She cursed, the unmistakable Belfast twang flickering through her brusque tone.

Jax haphazardly pulled the bed-sheet over Kohn's lifeless frame, turning to face his little friend who was, to put it lightly, fucking stunned.

"You sound super Irish when you're mad."

"I'm glad you could recognize that I'm mad at you, Jax." Her eyes never once left the outline of that dead body half on Tara's bedroom carpet, half on the tile of her en-suite.

Getting to her knees, disregarding an incredulous amount of blood decorating the walls and carpets, Isla pulled the floral cover off of Josh.

She sighed. "Why'd you do it?"

"He was stalking Tara--"

"So you just blew his fucking brains out?!" Her shriek was guttural. "Jesus Christ, Jax. And you idiots think that Tig is the one with a trigger problem."

"He does have a problem, and you know that! This was different!" He countered, pulling her to her feet. "This was fucking restitution, Isla!"

"No." Calmly, she stated. Her glare piercing. "This was fucking stupid. Possibly the most idiotic thing that you've ever done, Jackson."

His head shook as he sneered, towering over her. Isla felt intimidated. For the first time ever, she felt an unwavering sensation of overawe whilst in the presence of her best friend.

"He was a bad guy. He had to die."

"But he was fucking ATF! Hale is gonna get your ass, and there's nothing Unser will be able to help you with once he gets wind of this--"

Isla's voice cracked around a small sob. She wasn't even aware of the tears welling in her eyes, but they were there the entire time.

It was the thought of Jax making one incredible life altering fuck up--one that he wasn't going to save himself with a bribe, or the simple luck of a good connection to Charming PD--that was maiming her uncomfortably.

Jax's arms wound around her trembling waist, hugging her tightly against his palpitating chest.

The sheer terror visible in her mannerisms was what frightened him. Isla never seemed to scare very easily--or, at least, she didn't show it.

She was fearless, but she was still human. And he had only seen her crack twice. Both times because of the club, too.

"He was stalking Tara." He reinstated, circling his fingers over Isla's svelte spine. "They dated when she was in Chicago, she broke things off but he was a clingy motherfucker and he wouldn't leave her alone."

"She should've gotten a restraining order or something." She mumbled into his chest, sniffing back tears.

"That's the thing. She did. But he broke it by coming back to Charming, pretending to be setting up shop at the PD with Hale, but he followed her around town for a couple weeks instead."

"And nobody questioned why he wasn't getting anything done?"

Jax's head shook. "He was still working for Chicago--or so he said, anyway--so Hale just assumed any intel for whatever the fuck it was he'd been workin' on was going straight back to the big bosses."

She was struggling to follow on.

It was such a convoluted scenario that Isla never thought she'd become entwined with--though, with Jax and Charming being, well, Jax and Charming, she didn't know why she ruled something of the sort out.

"Are you gonna tell Gemma and Clay--"

"No. This is between us, and Tara."

Isla didn't have the energy to bicker with him again. She didn't want to bicker with him again, truthfully.

"Alright, what's the next move, then? 'Cuz this pig can't stay wrapped up in a sheet for too much longer or else he's gonna start to stink this place out."

Jax situated both hands against crimson coated shoulders, lightly pushing her backward so she could look up to meet his gaze.

"I got a plan. But I don't think you're gonna like it."

His eyes went straight to the lighter atop Tara's bedside table, right next to the pineapple scented candle, and she sighed hard.

The man was so sadistic. It wasn't even slightly discreet anymore, really.

Whereas Clay had always been ruthless, remarkably barbaric toward those who had wronged him--or anyone, really--Jax had more of a moral compass. Not much more, but a little. And that was the sort of thing that tied him straight to JT.

But Clarence Morrow had a much more potent impact on Jax's life, thus the man's foibles ended up transpiring to his stepson.

"This is seriously fucked up."

"I know." He didn't even try to argue, pushing Josh into the small grave he'd spent the last ten minutes digging at the pit of a deep, deep ditch.

Isla's body was below freezing, cold and uneasy at the prospect of potentially being caught, or assumed as an accessory to the murder of a federal agent.

"I'm sorry for roping you into this." Jax stated, almost reading her mind. "I just didn't know what else to do."

She ran a hand over his forearm, resting her head comfortably against navy-cotton covered flesh. "I know."

He didn't expect the woman to douse the dead body in gasoline, set it alight, and wait all night for the corpse to torrefy entirely--but she was there now. There was no reason she shouldn't go to the trouble of lighting the first match.

Tara should be the one doing this, Isla thought to herself as the small stick caught alight. She dropped it atop the sheet, taking a few steps backward when the thing immediately shot up into thick flames.

Jax engulfed her warmly with both arms, holding her tightly as if continuing their prior embrace. It felt safe, unusually so. But, to Isla, it felt like he was scouting for that security more than what she was.

"I can't believe you committed murder for a woman that you haven't seen for ten whole years." She laughed against his sweatshirt, eyes watering. "Is there something going on with you two again?"

"No." Huskily, he responded. "There isn't, and there won't be, either. I just swung by her place to make sure she was alright--I knew she was having trouble with that fucker--and he was there. I had to do it, Isla."

"I know."

She didn't. She did not know. She did not want to know, either. She couldn't fucking believe he'd acted out so rashly, how he was so trigger happy.

Jax was morphing into a different man and she couldn't help but pin that on the club.

"Is she alright?"

"I don't think so." His mumble was barely audible, but she caught it.

Isla squeezed his arm reassuringly, knowing that he felt bad about bringing that sort of trouble to Tara.

"She will be." She confirmed. "She's a strong girl, Jax, she'll be okay."

It didn't kill her to speak positively about Tara, she still held a place in her huge Irish heart--but it was an odd sensation to be mentioning her at all.

Ten years had passed by and Isla wasn't even certain that she was still alive. Her concern for the doctor seemed to dissipate over time because Tara didn't want anything more to do with them, so they didn't try with her.

Maybe it was a pang of jealousy that held her back. She was undeniably envious of the fact that she'd gotten out of town, worked her ass off, and experienced bigger and better things.

But, essentially, everything led back to Charming, and Tara Knowles had ended up falling into that same heap of trouble she left behind a decade ago.

Isla pulled her cellphone from the back pocket of her jeans, groaning when she saw the time.

"We've got an hour before Gemma wants us for dinner. You think this son of a bitch is gonna turn into dust within the next sixty minutes?"

"No." Jax laughed, leaning to his left and propping his head atop hers. "But he'll be unrecognizable in the next twenty."

"Perfect."

It was barbarous. Vile. Inhuman.

Isla's mother would be spinning in her grave if she knew the chaos she'd managed to find herself meshed with. Diane would kill Chibs, too.

She'd kill him for roping her baby into such malice after leaving Belfast. She'd want to throttle the Scottish son of a bitch for welcoming little Isla Áine Telford to SAMCRO, to Charming, to Jax fucking Teller.

They weren't natives to the small town, nor were they natives to California. Chibs had just moved from charter to charter. Continent to fucking continent. And taking his little angel along for the ride wasn't exactly planned until his late wife took her very last breath one stormy morning.

It was the most upsetting thing he had to do, telling his daughter that the woman she looked up to and adored with every fiber of her being wasn't coming home.

He'd been in the army, he'd seen things no man should've ever seen, but the sight of that six year old--teary-eyed and partially cognizant--was something that cut him so deeply, Jimmy O'Phelan's mark didn't seem to scratch the surface of Chib's inconsolable hurt.

"I think we're good now." A little nervous, Isla noted.

She simply couldn't wait to get out of the bitter chill, into a hot shower, and to the dinner table at the Teller-Morrow residence.

Jax surveyed the scene. He crouched down, heeding the flicker and sick crackle of flames engulfing the barely fleshed body.

"I think so, too." He confirmed, throwing her the keys to his SUV. "Get outta the cold--I'll finish up here. K?"

She nodded, clutching the chain close to her chest.

Isla wasn't sure how badly she was trembling until she sat still in the passenger seat, watching the club's VP commit the unspeakable.

Really, she wasn't shocked to find out that Jax was capable of the sort. Burning a man dead was better than burning one alive, and she was thankful that Josh had been put out of his misery before his body was cauterized into dust...Which was more than what could've been said about Kyle Hobart.

She remembered overhearing the club's plans to sear, or slice, the SAMCRO tattoo from the back of that brute once they'd gotten wind of his inability to black it out.

And she would've felt bad about that man getting viciously harmed, if he didn't fuck Opie over and subsequently land him in Chino to serve five years away from Charming and his family.

It was cruel, she knew that. To blowtorch the MC tattoo from the stretch of his back, was fucking cruel. Isla knew that Tig was adept at causing such blistering agony, but she didn't think he would actually go through with it, least of all with such delight.

Isla feared that man sometimes. Clay's right hand, the man who sought to protect her, fucking terrified her because he was so unpredictable. So fast acting.

"He's done." Jax officially confirmed, sliding into the driver's seat. "You okay?"

She was staring off into space, her eyes glazing over at the realization she had just helped dispose of another human being.

"Isla--"

"I'm good." Finally, she spoke. "I just--uh--I just wanna get cleaned up and head to dinner now."

He pinched the keys from a frail palm, sticking them into the ignition. All the while wondering what the fuck he was going to do with the shaken up woman to his right.

Twenty-three years of friendship, and Isla never once thought she'd be involved in such incredulous activity. Jax never thought she'd get hauled into it either, really.

Juice was right. She looked like she was going to throw up, all pale and sickly.

He had done that. Jax was, essentially, the reason that Isla seemed as though she wanted to crawl out of her own fucking skin. Granted, she was already feeling rather discomfited after tending to Cameron's laceration for hours on end--at odds with her father and Tig for that time, too.

But now this...This made Isla feel horrible. Dirty. Disgusting.

"You want me to tell Gemma you're not feeling it tonight?" Jax looked beside himself, noticing her head hanging low as she flared out of the window. "So you can skip seeing everybody--"

"No." Flatly, she responded. "No, I wanna make sure Tig doesn't hate me."

"Why would he hate you?"

"I yelled at him." Isla sounded downcast, sad. "He was watching, being awkward, trying to tell me what dad and I were doing wasn't going to suffice, and I just snapped."

In understanding, he hummed. He knew how irritating Alexander Trager was. Irritating, insufferable, it was all the same.

"He won't hate you for that." Comfortably, Jax rested a hand on Isla's thigh.

She barely felt the ringed fingers gently gliding along her jeans as she shook. It was a tremor, light and unnoticeable to the naked eye, that Jax felt reverberate through his entire body through his palm.

"I don't think he's managed to be pissed at you for more than fifteen minutes at a time."

"Yeah." She mumbled, shifting awkwardly. "Yeah, you're right. I'm too sweet for anybody to stay mad at me--"

"I wouldn't say you were sweet."

She smacked at his hand with a laugh, throwing her head backward as her smile started to fade.

It was bittersweet.

Bittersweet because she was realizing that Tig had pardoned her for being a bitch, but she had also just disposed of a dead body on the side of the freeway.

Bittersweet because, now, there was no clear path for her and Jackson and whatever happened was just going to happen and they had to grin and bear it. Pretend it wasn't eating them from the inside out.

Bittersweet because their families--their family--were currently sat around the oak table in Gemma's dining room, waiting for the pair to waltz in after doing the most heinous.

Bitter. Fucking. Sweet.

"Where were you guys?!" Tig pointed his beer bottle at the duo, heeding Jax's hand in Isla's back pocket.

Of course, to Trager, that was more than just a comfort thing. He didn't know what they had just done--nor would he--but she was going to let him believe whatever the fuck he wanted to as long as it wasn't the actual truth.

"It don't matter." Clay dismissed, gesturing to Jax and Isla's designated spaces at the table. "They're here now. That's all I care about."

Her smile was warm, friendly and welcoming while she sat in between her father and partner in crime. Literally.

Chibs nudged her. "You alright?"

"Yeah." Slowly, she uttered. She reached for the wine glass that Gemma had so kindly laid out for her.

The two blondes made eye contact for a few moments, Jax's crystalline hues completely lifeless. Arid. He nodded toward her, an indication that he was feeling alright.

But Isla...She wasn't. Lying through her teeth was the only feasible means of getting over this. Whatever this was.

"I'm fucking brilliant, dad."

[clownistyping]

A Witch and A Hick

'Meet cute nasty.'

Hi! I'm back kinda? I'm just here to post this lil self insert story of me and Lester Sinclair from House of Wax. He doesn't get enough love and I wanna kiss him so much.

I may change the title, is Lester a Hick????? He can be if you don't think to hard about it. Idk how many chapters this'll be bc its just me writing lol. This also got up to almost 2k words so 😳😳

Also @darling-disastrous here it is uwu

The vans brakes squeal as the girl presses down on them, Elizabeth Mayfield bounced back from the vans push. Her hair covers her face, It's filled with leaves, crystals and hair wraps on single strands. 

"Oh shut it Chariot." She grumbles and smacks the steering wheel, putting the van in park as she looks around her surroundings. 

Parked in a gas station parking lot, barely anybody around and the moon is high and bright, 

"Good night for a reading huh?" She turns to ask the dog in the back of the van. Who raises his head from the mattress in the back, the mutt puts his head back down. Turning on the roof light as she walks, 

"Move over, Mac." She grabs the cards from her bag. Pushing past the hanging crystals and dreamcatchers, she sits next to the dog. 

She hums and closes her eyes as she shuffles the cards. Letting her mind empty itself, her breathing is in sync with the dogs. Setting the cards in a pile of four, she draws the first card. It tells her what's at hand, seven of cups. She raises a brow, 

"Love?" She looks at her dog who sniffs her wrist covered in homemade bracelets, she smiles. Her face heating up, 

"Love." 

The second card speaks of the past and how it's changed her, six of cups reversed. 

"Try to be easy going, I was and I am." She puts the card back in the stack and pulls the 3rd, this will offer her food for thought. 

The high priestess shows, 

"Act more on feelings than facts. Is what I'm doing not enough?" She gestures to her van, hinting at her traveling lifestyle. 

"Is this what you're referencing to?" She lifts the seven of cups and places the two cards down together. Shaking her head she lifts the final card, which tells her a course of action she can take. The chariot arrives in her hand. 

"Again, is what I'm doing not enough?" She says out loud, 

"I named the van after this card. Come on give me a break." She says to no one but Mac listens. 

"Should we go further?" She pets the mutt who leans into her hand, 

"Maybe somewhere, where nobody will bother us." She mumbles and lays on the mattress, 

"Maybe I can be a forest witch," she mumbles and closes her eyes, letting sleep take over. 

Lester spits on the ground, he looks up at the bright moon as it shines through the woods. The music plays gently in the background, 

He hums along with the tune of 'season of the witch.' And pats his thighs to the rhythm, 

"Purdy night ain't it, Jonesy?" He asks the dog that sits on the back of the truck with him. She licks his face and he laughs. 

The sun peeks through the back doors, waking the girl in the van. She hums and sits up, Mac is standing in front of her ready to go. 

"Good idea." She says and takes him out to use the bathroom. When she puts Mac back in the van she tries to figure out where she is exactly. 

She knows she's landed herself in Louisiana, but most of the state looks the same. So she heads in the gas station, In the traffic mirror hanging above the entrance she gets a glimpse of herself. 

Elizabeth wears a long black slitted skirt, both sides are cut and her legs show when she walks. Her tank is wrinkled and her shawl is tempted to fall from her shoulders, she fixes it quickly and holds her side bag close. 

"Can I help you?" The cashier, an older woman asks and Elizabeth blinks. Back in reality, she nods. 

"Actually yes, two things. Where am I?" She asks and the woman points to the pamphlets nearby, 

"Smallwood. Okay, and uh can I use your bathroom?" 

"Gotta buy something first." The woman huffs and Elizabeth quickly searches for some travel food and drinks, 

Her only source of income is tarot reading strangers and selling the jewelry she makes. Not a lot but enough if you make the prices almost criminal. 

Grabbing some powdered donuts, quickly she pays for them and runs to the bathroom. Quickly she fixes herself up, putting on dark eyeliner only to smudge it and swiping on dark lip gloss. She smiles at her dark makeup, it simply makes her happy. Stepping out the bathroom quietly, in hopes of not gaining any attention she tries to leave silently. 

But her eyes catch a drink, staring at the energy drink from the fridge. She looks up at the cashier who's glaring at her. 

In a flash Elizabeth quickly snatches the drink and runs from the building, Mac barks from in the van and the woman hollers. 

"Get back here you freak!" The cashier screams and Elizabeth laughs as she runs. The needed adrenaline pumping through her, slamming the van open she gets in. 

Grabbing her keys, the van sputters and spits. 

"Come on, Chariot! Come on!" Elizabeth yells as she turns the key, the van rumbles as the cashier starts to run towards it. 

"Lets go!" Elizabeth yells as the van roars to life, slamming on the gas Mac is pushed back on the mattress and quickly the van escapes the parking lot with the screaming of its tires. 

Elizabeth doesn't slow the van until she reaches a wooded area, trees tower over the colorful van as it fails to blend in. But they're miles from the gas station and coming down from the high speed. 

"Cheers." Elizabeth raises the energy drink and Mac licks it, she laughs and opens it. 

The drink sprays all over the girls face immediately upon opening. She spits out the blueberry flavor and Mac licks her face all over, laughing she pushes the dog back. 

"I get it! That was well deserved karma!" She yells yells the universe,

Suddenly the van spits and sputters. 

"Oh no." She whispers and the engine cuts itself off. 

"No! Baby please!" She hollers and slams on the steering wheel, 

"Is this my karma?" She whispers and leans into her sticky seat, 

"I regret nothing." She says and sips her drink, Mac pants next to her. He breathes a disgusting smell. 

The two sit as the girl finishes her drink, she cringes as the sticky feeling on her face. 

"I can handle a lot of things," she starts, looking at Mac and then the bones she collects all scattered in the van. 

"But I can't handle a facial." She laughs and gets out of the van, Mac jumps out with her and sniffs the new ground. Elizabeth grabs the water from the back she runs it over her face, washing away the substance. Once the feeling of soda was gone Elizabeth checks her face in the side mirror. 

Her eyeliner was running, she shrugs. 

"Tell me, Mac. How do I look?" She turns, expecting her dog. 

"Mac?" She says and looks around, the dog stands in the distance. His head raised as he sniffs the area, Elizabeth cups her mouth and yells. 

"Hey, Get back here!" Mac looks at her and quickly sprints away towards the scent. 

Elizabeth groans and quickly runs after the speeding dog. But he's quickly lost in the weeds of Louisiana. 

"Mac!" She calls out and hears no response, but a rotting smell hits her. She doesn't flinch, after willingly tearing through dead animals for a good bone. She's numb to the smell. 

And now she knows where that damn dog is headed. 

Stomping her way through the thickets, she tries to keep calm her fingers absent-mindedly fidgeting with her silver coin necklace. 

"Well hey there buddy, where you come from?" Elizabeth hears a voice say and she follows it. 

"Alright load up!" Lester says and opens the passenger door of the truck, Jonesy quickly hopes in the truck and sits down. Ready to ride. In the back is another deer carcass, along with a vulture he accidentally hit. Lester taps his hands against the wheel as the music plays, Johnny Cash sings Ring of Fire on the radio, the chorus sings and Lester joins. 

"And it burns, burns burns! The ring of fire!" Lester sings off key and Jonesey howls with him. 

"If I could, I'd be in a band, Jonesy." The dog licks Lester's face and he laughs, 

"Ah you're right, my ugly mug don't belong on no stage. I'm happy right here." He kisses the dogs head and she barks.  

Lester drives down the bumpy pathway that leads him to the roadkill pit, he always checks to see if any strays show. His heart is soft for animals without a home, he likes to gain their trust. Make them feel safe while also being independent. 

"Think we'll find anything?" Lester asks and backs the truck up to face the pit. As the two leave the truck, Lester hears movement from the hole. Turning towards it he smiles when he sees a collared dog sniffing around the carcasses. 

"Well hey there buddy, where you come from?" 

The dog looks up, his mouth full of the meat. 

"Oh come on you don't wanna be eating that old meat." Lester pats his thighs, 

"I got some good eatin at my place if you wanna come with." Lester smiles and the dog stumbles his way through the pile, Jonesey sniffs the mutts face and licks it clean, the new dog pounces and the two quickly engage in play. 

"Well ain't that sweet, already made a friend huh, Jonesy?" 

Lester says, he lets the two play and opens the back of his truck. Tossing out the carcasses, he then opens the passenger door. 

"Alright you two, let's get going!" Lester pats the door and Jonesy was quick to jump in. 

The new dog stood in place and sat, 

"Oh come on boy, don't be shy." Lester whistles, 

"HEY!" Lester looks up, above the cliff he heard the voice. 

"THAT'S MY DOG!" The person yells and Lester sees the stranger, the said dog barks at the voice. 

A girl wearing dark flowy clothes, her face covered in runny makeup. 

"Hey, watch out!" Lester calls out and suddenly the girl fell off the cliff. 

[getitinbusan]

Destination: Jungkook

A super soft wedding fic from the Golden Closet Universe and the companion piece to September 1st

mood board & playlist

Happy 24th birthday to the love of my life 💜 I wish I could give you more than words you'll never see.

Nerves always took over your stomach during landing. That,  coupled with the reason for the flight and you were an anxious mess.

The plane had begun its long slow descent, "You look kind of green are you okay?" Your best friend squeezed your hand. 

"It's just...usually Guk does this thing...he sings to me and rubs my neck when we land."

She looked at you and shook her head, "Yeah, I'm not gonna do that."  

You laughed, "I don't think you're taking your maid of honor duties very seriously." 

"Ughh, I can't believe you're getting married before me." She sighed, "It's not fair, Yoongi and I are the ones who introduced you. It should be us." 

You couldn't help the grin that formed on your lips. Sworn to secrecy, she had no idea you'd gone shopping with Yoongi, the ring had been in his pocket for weeks. "It'll be you soon babe, maybe this weekend will inspire him."     

Checking the key card you stopped at 303. Why you couldn't stay in the same room together was beyond you. 

The door was just about to click closed when his running footsteps echoed through the empty hallway. Strong arms wrapped around you and soft lips fell on yours. He did his trademark hum while he kissed you, his happy song for his happy place. 

"I can't believe how much I've missed you."

Pulling him closer you inhaled him in. He was the scent of home that had been lacking for the last four days.

His smile got bigger until his dimples finally showed up, "It's late are you tired?"  He tucked your hair behind your ear, "We've got a pretty big day tomorrow." 

"Can I just enjoy you alone for a few minutes?" 

"Is everything okay?" He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you onto his lap. 

Nuzzling into his neck you curled into him. "It's so stupid." 

"Tell me," he rubbed circles on your back. 

"I'm happy and I love you so much but I'm terrified and nervous and I haven't been able to talk to you about it because you've been here planning the perfect wedding for me ... and I'm selfish because I just wanted you to hold me and tell me it was all going to be okay."

He sighed in relief, "Of course it's going to be okay," he gently laid a kiss on top of your head. "Don't you know every fairy tale ends with and they lived happily ever after?" 

You couldn't help but smile, Jungkook was such a hopeless romantic. "Why can't we stay in the same room tonight?" 

Changing the mood he tickled you while pulling you back into the bed, "Because it's bad luck, and it would ruin the surprise." 

"We live together, I've seen you naked a million times so unless you've been hiding something really well I don't think I'll be surprised."

Just being back in his arms draped you in a sense of calm. His loud heart beat accompanied by the rise and fall of his steady breath lulled you into a much needed sleep. 

Your eyes crept open and looked at the clock, only 11:43. Laying your head back down you looked at Jungkook snoring peacefully. As much as you longed to keep him here until morning you knew he was superstitious. Leaning in to wake him with a kiss he  smiled and pulled you back against his chest. 

"Hey sleepy head."

He groaned under you as you poked him.

"You'd better get out of my room Jungkook, it's almost midnight."

Sitting up he rubbed his eyes and checked the time, "Shit."

He grabbed your hands in his and walked to the door.

"I guess I'll see you in a few hours?" 

Wrapping your arms around him tightly you really didn't want to let him leave.

"Nothing to be nervous about. You've got a dress right?"

You nodded.

"Then all I need you to do is show up." He kissed your forehead and stepped into the hallway. 

"Jungkook" he turned back, "I'll see you soon." 

You were glad that from the moment your feet hit the floor there was a barrage of things to be done. Mimosa's with a massage, nails, hair, makeup. Jungkook had made sure you wanted for nothing. 

You had no idea what to expect, you'd heard vague phone calls and caught small glimpses when he was planning but he'd really kept you in the dark.

Jungkook loved surprises and to his credit he was tremendously good at them. He wanted you to have a perfect stress free wedding giving you only two tasks,

1. find a dress

2. show up and say I do

The door swung open and your best friend stood grinning from ear to ear. 

"I know I'm your maid of honor but I hate you so much right now," she pouted. "I don't know how anyone will ever top what Jungkook has done for you down there." 

You laughed and it felt good to break the tension. "You specifically mean Yoongi topping it for you? Don't worry he already asked for my help."

Her jaw almost hit the floor. 

"Shit, damnit, I didn't say that! Don't tell him you know, he'll kill me!" 

Dancing around the room she squealed in happiness. "Would you be mad if I asked Jungkook to plan it?" 

"Is it that good? Is he already down there, did you see him?"

She nodded, "Everything is amazing, and he's so happy and he looks so handsome" 

You exhaled deeply, "I guess there's only one thing left to do."

She threw open the door, "Let's go get you married!" 

Sunset in Jeju, there wasn't a more perfect time or place.

Wooden boards lay across the sand leading to the exact spot Jungkook had proposed. There, up the row of candles under the fairy light arch stood the man who would be your husband.

Nothing but him existed beyond that. All you could see was his handsome face and small nervous smile, his hands wringing together to keep from fidgeting and  the reddening of his ears as you got closer. 

Surrendering the bouquet you had to touch him, you needed his hands in yours. Steady and firm, together you grounded each other. 

"Y/N,  People think our story started on a rain soaked camping trip. I don't believe that's true, that's just where it got good. Our story began in the stars,  It's the only possible way to explain how much I already knew I loved you. I promise to fill your life with happiness, love, and blanket forts for as long as you'll let me. Y/N, I love you so much and can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.

"Jungkook,  Not a day goes by that you don't make me fall in love with you a little more. Not a day that you don't make me laugh or that you make me feel loved, and from here on out there will not be a day that we'll be apart. I can't wait to see what our future holds, and I hope that 50 years from now our grown children will think we're crazy because we're still building forts in our living room.  All that matters in my life is that I get to love you. Jungkook, you'll always be my iron man and I love you 3000." The tears started but he managed a laugh at your private joke.

You swept his tears away with a brush of your thumbs and he kissed you. Husband and wife. 

Everyone was gone. The last goodbye was said and you made your way back to the reception area. 

You stopped to watch him. He was sitting by himself, a smile on his face staring up into the sky. Your husband was so beautiful.

Walking towards him you caught his eye and his face lit up like all the stars in heaven. You held out your hand, "One more dance?" 

He wrapped his arms around you and you swayed together under the night sky. Waves rolled in place of music and the moon shone a personal spotlight down on you.

"Today was perfect Jungkook"

"It's not over," he stopped to lay a sweet kiss on your lips before smiling and taking your hand. 

Walking through the sand he led you to the seaside suite and slid the door open.

"This is the part where I'm supposed to pick you up and carry you inside." 

You couldn't help but laugh, "Are you asking me or warning me?"

"Close your eyes"

"So warning me?"

"Please Y/N."

Sweeping you up he carried you into the room and set you down. 

"Open!"

There in front of you the entire room was draped in white sheets and hanging lights. The bed sat inside the biggest fort you'd ever seen.

In complete awe you turned to look at him, tears in your eyes yet smiling from ear to ear. He knew he did good.

"Jungkook this is amazing!" 

He was so excited to show off.

"And look," he pointed to the tray beside the fireplace. "We've got champagne and all the stuff to make S'mores."

He buzzed around the room pointing out all the little details. 

"Jungkook, you forgot one thing." 

His face fell as he tried to figure out what important thing he'd missed. 

"What did I forget?"

Walking towards him your hands ran down his crisp shirt and undid his belt. 

"The part where you're supposed to make love to your wife for the first time…" 

Waking up to walls of white sunlight while wrapped naked against your husband's warm body you'd never felt more content. His dark hair was wild against the pillow and you couldn't help but stare and wonder how you were chosen to be the luckiest person alive. 

Soft snores let you know he wasn't deep in his sleep and he easily woke when you kissed his swollen lips. 

"Hey," he smiled, "what time is it?" 

Pulling the sheets off it was exactly what you'd hoped to find. Despite the evening's satisfaction his cock stood firm, thick and ambitious. 

"More?" he questioned with a smile.

You nodded while straddling his hips. "Sorry, I guess this is your life now." 

He sat up to wrap his arms tightly around you as you took him in. Bare chests pressed together and the feeling of your hearts beating in unison.

He kissed his way up your neck,  "And what a great life it's going to be." 

[imagine-loki]

Glow

TITLE: Glow

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: imagine that you liked Loki long ago. But he had rejected you once, so you’ve moved on. One day, he appears at your doorstep. He was a lot mellower than you remembered, like dark, burdensome things had happened to him, but was still the good man at heart you knew all those years ago. 

RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: I had every intention of this being light-hearted, and then I started writing and went very dark, very fast. End in fluff, though? Mentions of death, disease, depression, language, and heartbreak. Loosely builds on my past Imagine One-Shot: Taking Turns. 

=

It had been strange to die.

To really die, not that subtle fakery he had done a thousand times before to put a temporary stop to his problems. There would be no getting up from these wounds. From the twisted neck and its haunting crunch, and the inevitable darkness that had smothered him a moment after, blanketing him in warmth. It truly was strange to die.

But if he died, why was he here?

Loki groaned as he shifted on the evening dew-dampened grass. His limbs all felt tumescent and clumsy. It wasn’t exactly a surprise–he had fought off an undead army, his demon of a sister, the Titan’s ranks. He deserved to feel stiff, but it wasn’t exactly helping him get on his feet.

Red-rimmed, baggy eyes were drawn to the great oak tree up ahead. He knew the sight well. He had spent many a day kissing her in secret under that tree, whenever he could get away from his brother and she could slip away from Stark’s lab, undetected. That was the place where she had told him, brown eyes rounded and shy as she stared at him through her lashes, that she was in love with him. Coincidentally, that was the same place where he told her he didn’t feel the same.

Let it never be said that Loki ever had the good sense to do something that might actually be good for him.

Her face popped into his mind, clear as the day he left her behind. The Titan. His plan. This world seemed like it was another era, altogether. Was she even alive?

“Fuck.”

His feet had brought him to her door. He hadn’t planned on it, but something in his subconscious had told him that this was as good a place as any to lay low. If she was alive, she would help him, regardless of the utter monster he had been to her. If she wasn’t… well, at least it was a place to stay, wasn’t it?

Loki’s fist pounded on the door with such force that the whole thing was shaking in its foundations. It was late, he knew, but she was never a deep sleeper. It was always so easy to nudge her awake, maybe with a kiss on the neck and have her focus her sleepy, warm attention on him. He tired of the trying to convince himself that she had to still live. He would’ve known if she didn’t, wouldn’t he? Something in the faulty machinery that rattled in his chest must still be connected to that damned awkward smile and–

“Loki…?” Her voice was breathless, as if it were impossible for the man staring out onto the street to be the same that broke her heart. And yet… “Loki.”

He pulled a breath, dressing himself in courage before turning towards the voice. The woman leaning against the doorframe looked like a spectre of who he used to know. Where her frame had been strong and wide-hipped and sturdy enough to take his full strikes on the sparring mats, this person looked… deathly? Defeated?

“Rebecca,” he whispered, taking a single step forward, trying not to overwhelm her.

“No. Thor said you died before… he swore that he saw you… You’re dead.” Her voice thickened with tears she dared not shed.

He chuckled mirthlessly. “You know I have the hardest time getting that stuff to stick.” When she didn’t smile, he cleared his throat and pushed the tangled mess of his hair back in a nervous fidget. “I don’t know how I’m here, either. I was just with Thor in the ship and I know I died, I just… I don’t know.”

“I’m going to call Thor,” she mumbled, walking backwards, eyes weary of his form.

Loki rushed to follow her. She gave out a strangled shriek when he closed his fingers around her wrist and wrenched her cell phone out of her grasp. “No one can know. Not until I understand what’s going on. Rebecca, please.” She was trembling and so he loosened his grip on her hands in favor for her face. His thumbs trailed softly over her now-prominent cheekbones. He hated not seeing the rounded cheeks, often flushed red at his touch. “Please.”

Rebecca’s face had fallen from her surprise, and now she just looked lost. “I’m dying, aren’t I?”

He frowned, confused. “What?”

“I’m dying. That’s why you’re here. You’re here to take me away and you couldn’t have fucking chosen anyone else to look like?! Loki was my…,” Rebecca trailed off, breaking down into a heart-shattering sob.

“Darling, no.” He gathered her into his embrace, winding his arms around her shoulders to hold her safe. “No, no, no. I know it’s confusing, darling. I know. You are perfectly safe with me. You know that.”

“Where were you? I needed you! For years, I needed you and you weren’t there!” Loki grit his teeth to keep his own sob from choking through. Instead, he let the tears stream quietly, offering nothing but mumbled assurances that she was fine and that he was sorry. Gods above, he was so sorry.

Eventually, he had calmed her enough to put her to bed. While she sniffed in her sleep, he scrolled through the news on her computer, trying his hardest to catch up. It had been so many years. A mere instant had plummeted him more than five years into the future. Five years that, if the glimpse of the street outside had been any indication, had been more than just rough. They had won the war against Thanos, but the number of battles they had lost in between had been costly. Too costly.

When Loki startled awake, he was surprised to see Becca watching him from the armchair across. She was molded into a ball, with her knees up to her chest. It reminded him of the first time they had kissed. He had unfurled her from that very same position and then toyed with her from a few months. He had been but a bratty child then. He couldn’t truly say that he was any different now, but at least now he had the sense to self-contemplate.

“You cut your hair,” he remarked and immediately slapped himself internally. He was truly useless around her.

Rebecca subconsciously ruffled her brown curls. “Yeah. I got sick. Kept it short, after.”

“I like it…,” he trailed off, awkwardly. “Is that why you're–” He broke off when her eyes flickered up, dangerously, daring him to make light of her situation, as he often used to. It had always been gentle teasing, though in rare occasion he would strike just across the line and have to deal with the fallout. “W-why you’re so thin?”

Silence stretched for a long time. It crept up his spine and injected itself into his veins, letting him know he had made a mistake.

“Why are you here, Loki?”

“The truth?”

Rebecca scoffed. “Are you capable of it, Liesmith?”

The jab hurt, but was in no way unjustified. “I was brought back to this world, to this time… you were my only thought. Just you. And I prayed that you were alive because I am not strong enough to live through the heartbreak of losing you, twice.”

“You left me, Loki. You broke my heart and then you went off to gallivant with Thor. In my darkest days, I pleaded for you. And now…”

“And now…?”

“And now I’m just upset because I can see you’re not doing any better than me. Shit, why am I such a fucking bleeding heart–” The tears were back, and as she protected herself in her bubble from him, she pound her fist to the side of her head. This was new behavior and worrisome, to say the least. It had been a hard decade. 

“Becca.” He let her name fall quietly from his lips before he made an effort to move. He had shed his armor, opting for some sweatpants and a t-shirt. Every muscle, ligament, and bone ached, and they screamed in protest when he sunk to his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his. She struggled against him, but her strength just wasn’t there anymore. “Darling girl, please.”

In another life he would have raised his voice, shook her out of her stupor and sharply admonished her until she was agreeable; pliant. She never did like confrontation and she would have given him her very lungs if it had aided him–she would have given a perfect stranger her lungs, too.

There had always been an unbreakable brightness within her. That was what had attracted him to her, early on. She was bright where he was dark; all accepting and loving where he was brash and scornful and self-loathing. Hindsight was crystal clear, and all it told him was that he should have been so much better to her. He should have offered her the world when he had the chance. All he could do now was repent and take care of her, for a change.

“I’m going to get you some food and some coffee and then I am going to–I’m not sure. Whatever will make you happiest, I suppose. OK, pet?” He offered her a small smile, thumbs stroking the back of her hands until she stopped fidgeting and offered a nod. “Good.” He nodded and rose, reluctantly releasing her to head to the kitchen.

“What happened to you?” That was a loaded question. “You’re different.”

He stopped and faced her. After a moment, he shrugged. “Just life, Rebecca.”

“That’s not everything, is it?”

“No. Then again, you didn’t just get sick, either, did you?” His charged blue gaze pinned her down until she shook her head, seemingly against her will. “Let me get you coffee and, um, we'll… take turns?”

Becca laughed, despite herself, rolling her eyes at the god. That was a turn of phrase she had not thought of in an eternity. “I hate you. I really do,” she riposted, though there was no fire behind the words.

“I daresay you have every right.”

With a crooked half-grin, he pointed behind himself and turned once more towards the kitchen. Before he had crossed, the wind was knocked out of him as arms twisted round his stomach and squeezed painfully. Against his back, Rebecca breathed disjointedly, dampening his shirt with tears.

“I love you, Loki.”

Those words had echoed in his chest for nearly a decade. They had etched themselves against every rib and membrane in his chest, taunting him every time he failed; every time he fell. He had not been worthy of receiving them back then. Nor did Loki think he was worthy of receiving them now, but he felt a compulsion to hold fast to the phrase that he had not felt then. Twisting in her arms, he looked down on those same rounded, shy brown eyes looking up through her lashes. Only this time, they were painfully guarded, protective. He could see only a flicker of her light, and he wanted to set it ablaze, once more. For her own good, more than his own.

He grinned through the sting of tears, brushing her short curls back with delicate strokes. “And I love you, Rebecca. Across time, space, and reality, it seems.”

The walls around her had not vanished, but they seemed to wobble under his attentions. “Please don’t leave again. I don't–”

“I won’t. I promise you on my honor, whatever little I have, I will not leave your side until you demand I leave–” Her lips on his cut him short and the surprised gasp he gave died muffled beneath their kiss.

When she pulled back, both were panting. “I just waited eleven years for you to say what you mumbled in your sleep every single night for months. If anything, I’m liable to stick you in another ice block.” He let out a surprised bark of laughter before reconnecting their lips.

“I don’t deserve you.” Loki wrapped himself around her, resting his chin on her crown. 

“You don’t, but you can earn me back, I bet.”

He smiled against her temple before pressing a kiss there. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Being here does most of the job. Coffee might seal the deal.” She smirked, an expression he knew was meant to tease. “If you figure out how to work my coffeemaker, that is.” Becca pecked his lips and brushed past him into the kitchen, pointing at the multi-dialed monstrosity of a coffeemaker.

The light in her eyes was starting to glow once more.

[rogue-barnes-16]

THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF NATASHA ROMANOFF (part II/?)

Summary: after the too convenient disappearance of Natasha Romanoff, the Avengers —a local biker gang— search for help in the most unexpected place in order to get their friend back.

Pairing: biker!Bucky Barnes x reader

Genre: angst-ish (biker gang au)

Tags:

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff: @shirukitsune

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language.

A/N: lucky me, when I told you guys to choose a number from 1 to 12, 12 was the second choice. 12 was also the second part of this fic. I wasn't planning on starting this series so soon but meh, here it goes.

Part I

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

The steering wheel gripped, my jaw clenched.

"it's Natasha. She... Dissappeared"

I drove at full speed until I reached my building, and, once I exited my car, I made a beeline through the lobby to reach the elevator.

"it's Natasha."

I entered in my apartment and tossed the bag I had been carrying all the goddamn way to there. My door wasn't even locked before I kicked off my heels and started to unbutton my blouse.

"she... dissappeared"

All my clothes, one by one, had been discarded all over the hall on the way to my bedroom.

I let my body fall over my soft mattress, warm blanket and cozy pillows. I was so tired and my bed was so comfy.

It had been a long ass day.

My boyfriend refused to talk to me after the fight we had had; I argued with my boss and Wanda, my secretary and bestfriend got caught in the crossfire; I had to do a whole tone of work, and when I got out of the building, those two fuckers were there.

They had the nerve to come to my work place.

They had the nerve to come to me.

Natasha dissappeared, they had said.

And I didn't know why I couldn't get it out of my mind, because it couldn't be the first time something like that happened in their gang. They hadn't needed my help before, therefore, they didn't really need my help now.

No, it was a lame excuse to... God knows what.

I really could use some sleep, so I closed my eyes and let my body relax as my mind drifted off.

It's Natasha.

She... dissappeared.

I woke up after around three or four hours of tossing and turning due to the redhead's face coming to me every single time I started to doze.

Her eyes, her laugh, her smirk, her ferocity when she defended someone she cared about, when she defended me. All those moments in the bar she listened to my problems, all those times she sided with me even if that meant argue with her friends.

"what the hell?" I rhetorically inquired to myself, taking my hands to the sides of my head. "they got this handled, for fucks sake." I reminded myself "Stop overthinking"

A moment of silence, in which it seemed to me as if I was going to finally resume my sleep.

"fuck."

I left the bed and grabbed a clean outfit from the chair in my besides my desk. Ten minutes later I was heading out with my car keys and my phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You planning on letting me in?"

"are you gonna come in or...?"

Bucky and I spoke at the same time, which created an even more awkward situation. He moved aside for me to enter before the vibes were unbearable.

Once I had gotten in, I turned left and went upstairs, where I knew the living room was. "I saw Sam in the balcony." I informed him. "are the rest here?"

"Some of them, yeah" the brunette replied, walking upstairs right behind me. "we've been trying to figure out a way to solve this."

To solve what exactly? I had no idea.

Just like I had no idea of how they could possibly need my help, and, most importantly, how the fuck I could help.

The first person I saw when I entered was Steve. He was sitting by the window in the largest couch, which wasn't that large. Besides him was Rhodey, who gave me a grateful smile that spoke by itself.

Sam got in the room accompanied by Clint who seemed to be complaining about something, until he saw me. "Holy fuck." He then stopped dead in his tracks, with disbelief in his gaze.

"Hey Barton" I greeted him with the most sincere smile that I could find in myself, which sure wasn't a great one.

But honestly, could they blame me?

"Hey Y/l/n" his voice spoke the astonishment he felt more than his words did. "Holy fuck." He repeated, which teared a chuckle from me.

"Okay" I spoke after a moment of uncomfortable silence, at least for me "so... is someone-"

Hesitant steps were heard coming from the third floor, and I turned around, waiting for whoever else was in the house. The rest turned to the stairs too, but they knew who was going downstairs.

"Buck, is that Y/n's car?" the brunette, green-eyed girl had been making her way to us until she saw me standing mid-way between the living room and the hall. "oh my God."

Rebecca, Bucky’s younger sister, didn't think twice before stalking into the room in my direction before crashing against me in a hug, which I instantly returned.

"I missed you so damn much" her whisper was muffled by my jacket. "oh my fucking God."

A smile tugged the corner of my lips "missed you too Becca" I pulled away, just to properly see her. "You look different"

"I chopped my hair off" she stated proudly, as if I hadn't noticed the most obvious thing of her change of style.

"looks great"

One of the boys cleared his throat and I remembered we weren't alone.

"okay" I spared Rebecca one last smile before walking towards the boys. "someone explain what happened. Like" I gave them all a warning look. "I want an actual explanation, not just one dramatic statement." My eyes landed on Steve, who had already his eyes shamefully fixed on the ground.

"C'mon Becs"

Becs.

No one would call Rebecca Becs apart from Bucky. No one was allowed too, because Rebecca hated it, except when Bucky said it.

When I first came to know about how it started with her older brother teasing her, it seemed so adorable to me, yet so hilarious.

I looked over my shoulder to peek at Bucky, whose hand was on Rebecca's back to guide her out of the room.

"I wanna know what happened too" she complained in lower voice, almost pleading her older brother with her jade eyes. "Nat's my family too."

Bucky denied "we talked 'bout it Becs. 'M sorry" what happened next, for some reason, shocked me and confused me at the same level.

Bucky glanced at Barton and gave him an almost imperceptible nod, right before leaving her sister and shutting the door behind him.

"Natasha was spying on someone" the dirty blonde man spoke. "She'd been for a while and-"

"who?"

"it's better if you don't know" I scoffed. "she would call us twice a day."

"until she didn't" I finished his explanation. "why was she spying on that someone"

"we owed a favor" Sam joined the conversation with that short and vague statement.

"to whom?" I questioned with my arms crossed over my chest.

"we can't tell you." Steve's words made me lose the one bit of patience that I had left in my body after a sleepless night and an stressful morning. "we really can't."

I tried to cool down before speaking, still, my words came out sharp and tense, and just a bit frustrated. "why am I here? Where's the rest?" they exchanged a couple of hesitant looks. "why. Am. I. Here."

"Y/n" Rhodey's voice was careful and worried as he meticulously measured his words. "we really need your help. We have nothing else, no one else, but we're gonna need you to trust us."

My humorless, sarcastic laugh was accompanied by a scoff, which made it sound even more dramatic. "that's not happening." shaking my head no, I turned around to leave.

I was rushing down stairs when I heard Bucky’s voice. "Y/n, wait" for some reason I didn't acknowledge, I did wait. "where are you going?"

"home." I bitterly stated. "I don't even know why I came in first place"

" 'cause you got a gut feeling" he walked downstairs when he was sure I wouldn't leave immediately. "and 'cause Nat's important to you."

He leaned against the corner of the wall, waiting for me to say something.

"why the hell did you leave the room?"

It was obvious that my question took him by surprise. "uhm" a frown made its way to his confused gaze. "I thought it'd be better if I wasn't there."

If you didn't have to see me, his blue eyes said.

"this is your house"

"I don't want to make it to make it more difficult than it already is" he shrugged, fidgeting with one of his rings. "I already fucked it up at the parking lot and--"

"Bucky" I pinched my nose, feeling the headache that would come sooner rather than later. "I didn't even know they were here" I clarified. "I came to see you"

His confusion grew in his face as he pushed himself off the wall with questioning eyes. "I mean-- why?"

"you said it." the car keys that I had picked out of my pocket while I traveled downstairs, returned to their original place. "I got a gut feeling. A bad one." I looked through the small window besides me. "You told me I was your only option. I came here 'cause I wanna help." he pressed his lips in a thin line. "I came for you to tell me what's happening, but no one tells me anything."

Silence.

"Bucky, I can't help if I don't know what's happening."

More silence.

"And y'all can't ask me to trust you." that was an actual warning, and he understood. "so either you tell me or--"

He walked towards me and reached behind my back to grab what I knew was his leather jacket and gloves, which he always kept on the hall besides the main door.

I spun ninety degrees and moved aside for him to have it easier to put his jacket on. "here" he handed me what used to be my bike helmet and grabbed his own.

"Where we going?" I inquired, making my way side by side with him towards his garage, already zipping up my leather jacket.

"Need a coffee." He replied climbing on the bike. "a good one. What 'bout you?"

He was already putting his helmet on, and I took it as a queue to hop on top of the back seat of his bike. "I could use one, yeah" I mimicked his previous action and, when I heard the engine, I secured myself by holding onto him.

"we'll talk while we have that coffee, okay?"

"Sure" I agreed, right before the bike took off at an insane speed, which made me hold onto him tighter.

Maybe, just maybe, I missed it a little.

[alines7777]

aight, here's a piece of 'creative writing' that i've been brainstorming.

basically, it's about samson, a famed homophobic and transphobic radio evangelist, who dies and goes to hell, and meets the princes of hell, who subsequently berate him for his character and deeds on earth. and it more or less gets into the CORE reason why conservatives always turn out to be shitheads in their seeking of bible verses as a shield for their bigotry, and even hypocrisy. it's also to demonstrate that, as written in the tanakh, god is beyond good and evil, especially any one person's view of it.

the thing here is that based on everything i read from the bible, everything the princes of hell say here is true, or at the very least reasonable. and i think the following sort of bigotry and disrespect toward humanity as a whole, whom lucifer accurately calls the ADAM, is the character attributed to lucifer in other texts, and i also think it serves as a nice foil for samson's bigotry toward the lgbti community, just as samson serves as a nice foil for lucifer's expulsion from YHVH's hosts.

and on that note, i think it would be fair warn that this work includes the use of transphobic slurs, albeit from a perspective of a being that cares as little for humanity as a whole as it does toward the plight of trans people.

but what both of them never really stop to consider is that they all supposedly share god's breath in common. and god's breath is held in the tanakh as the source of life, that every breath we take is literally god's.

(try to imagine leviathan sounding as though he's stifling laughter as he speaks)

....

samson : ugh. who are all of you? where am i?

leviathan : GEHINNOM. HELL.

samson : no! that can't be right! that's impossible! i was spreading the truth about your bid to destroy america with the gay and trans agenda! i was bringing people back to the right path that god set for man and woman in marriage. i was saving america from your throes! i was the champion of the holy crusade against the trans and gay agenda to soften and feminize america to make it yours instead.

* the princes start busting into laughter *

asmodeus : are you kidding? as if anyone even needs sodomy or transsexuality to be pulled away from marriage in the first place! o, but i'm sure you know better from experience, right? but we have witnessed the rise and fall of MANY nations throughout EONS, so why should we even remotely care about america above any others? what an idiot!

lucifer : listen, samson, god is the one who chooses the fate of all nations, not us, haven't you even read the word he left for you? so if "the sodomites and transsexuals" really are destroying america as you say they are, then it's precisely because god wants them to, now you're free to take any guess at why. besides, we are hardly interested even in the ADAM that you'd find here, let alone those that still roam earth, and you won't find us delivering any of our bidding to DIRT beneath our feet. there is no fight between us and YHVH over the ADAM, the only ones you have to blame for your sins and the fall of your nations are YOURSELVES.

leviathan : AND THEY'RE STILL CONCERNED OVER THE COLORS OF THEIR BEDSHEETS [flags]. TAKE CARE THAT THEY SHOULDN'T TURN YELLOW AND BROWN FROM THAT PANIC YOU'RE IN! *laughs uncontrollably* HOW RIDICULOUS! WE DON'T NEED TO HEAR ANYTHING ELSE FROM YOU, AND YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING USEFUL TO SAY.

*leviathan, again succumbing to uncontrollable laughter, puts a seal on samson's mouth to keep him from speaking up again*

leviathan : WE CAN ONLY FEAR THAT WHATEVER ELSE YOU SAY FOR YOURSELF MIGHT BE EVEN MORE DAMNING! I HAVEN'T LAUGHED THIS HARD IN AGES! "CHAMPION OF THE HOLY CRUSADE AGAINST THE GAY AND TRANS AGENDA!" *laughing again, but his laughter is starting to die down*.

asmodeus : and all that coming from.... hold on, let's see what stolas wrote for us again.... a divorcée of five times by adultery with the same trannies he calls abominations [sort of like alex jones and the trans porn on his phone] ���

satan : — and two times by battery —

asmodeus : — telling everyone else to honor and cherish the sanctity of man and woman in marriage and sex before god.

*all princes proceed to laugh, samson becomes flush and tearful with anger and embarrassment*

lucifer : aww, what's wrong? we only speak the truth to you alone in jest. but don't you find it at least a little bit funny? can't you see why it's at least a little amusing for us to see how a HYPOCRITICAL BIGOT always runs to the church for hiding?

leviathan : THE SAME WAY A FOX ALWAYS RUNS TO ITS BURROW!

lucifer : now, leviathan, let's not judge TOO unfairly. foxes run to their burrows only when given chase, and foxes actually dig the burrows where they go into hiding.

belphegor : and not once have we ever seen such fools as this so much as pick up a stone to build a church for their hiding.

leviathan : AND IF WE EVER DID SEE THEM PICK UP A STONE, WE ALWAYS FOUND THEM MUCH QUICKER TO CAST IT INSTEAD!

lucifer : and that, samson, is why it's SO DIFFICULT for us to feel any pity for you. but alas, we MUST. after all, only a fool as pathetic as you could never realize that it was just as difficult for everyone else to see god's kindness through your cruelty. now that doesn't inspire much faith in god, does it?

leviathan : NOR DOES IT INSPIRE MUCH OF HIS KINDNESS! JUST LOOK AT THE KINDNESS GOD SPARED YOU, HE LEFT YOU TO FEND FOR YOURSELF IN OUR MIDST!

lucifer : and too bad for you, there are no churches here, so there are no places here where you can hide from us, nor any walls with loose stones for the casting [this is specifically a reference to verses to be selectively taken from the bible to justify bigotry].

mammon : i hope you still think the money you took from all those broken cretins for your "sermons" made it all worth it.

beelzebub : not to mention all the lovely meals it afforded you.

asmodeus : and the women and trannies.

leviathan : ALL BECAUSE YOU WANTED THE NAME OF GOD AS A CLOAK FOR YOUR SIN. AND THE ONLY REASON YOU EVER CARED ABOUT THE BODY OF CHRIST WAS BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD HAVE IT AS A SHIELD.

lucifer : see, leviathan? now you're judging QUITE fairly. because fairness.... starts with the TRUTH. and the truth is, samson, you're DISGUSTING. all of ADAM are DISGUSTING! i hardly know any other words that are even fit to describe you. SLIME! DIRT! that's what you are — that's how god made you, and his breath never changed that fact. all it did was make you LIVING DIRT! too bad he never took my advice to destroy all of you while he had the chance, and the only times he did were when it was TOO LATE! now we're the ones who have to deal with you. and i should think that we're owed some thanks for TRYING when god WOULDN'T. we were not the ones who created you, and we just as surely are not the ones to blame for your sins, but we were the ones who were right about you every time when god was still trying to see something better than what was actually there — dirt. but still, he leaves it to us to handle the job of caring for you.

leviathan : HAH! WE NEVER CHANGED OUR MINDS ABOUT YOU, BUT EVEN WE MIGHT HATE YOU LESS NOW THAT HE SEES YOU AS CLEARLY WE DO, AND NOW WE'RE THE ONES WHO CARE MORE ABOUT YOU! THAT'S HOW MUCH GOD HATES YOU!

lucifer : yes, it is. do you know WHY, samson? the same reason we hate you: it's because you ADAM are always crying out god's name, the way spoiled children cry out for their mothers to get the things they want, because you'd NEVER be caught dead doing ANYTHING good for yourself, though for some reason you'd sooner be caught doing ill to others, and then you cry out even louder when you learn that you've been caught, exactly like a spoiled child. and you call yourself a man. that's how disgusting you ADAM are — you'd rather be caught doing ill to others than any good for yourselves — and then you STILL work up the gall to cry out god's name, and we soon find that those who cry his name the loudest are the worst disgraces to it, as much they would be even to OUR names for that matter. the only ones who are any good at all, even in our eyes, are those who DON'T.

satan : we, at least, started by rejecting his name.

lucifer : that's right, so it isn't reasonable to expect any obedience from us. but since you couldn't be bothered to obey god and abide his kindness, you would have been better to reject him too, you'd at least be HONEST, and we would certainly start taking a little more pity on you. and the ones who are inspired by OUR example, they don't ask anything from us, and they don't cry out our names. we hardly even acknowledge them, and they are better than you. but i must give the ADAM some credit, in the spirit of fairness, you answer and take heed when your names are called, even by those you despise. but god doesn't answer when you call his. he doesn't even want you knowing his name, and it isn't YHVH. exactly as leviathan told you, that's how much he hates you. but you're new here, so we're willing to give you a sporting chance to be YOUR OWN brand of dirt, that is all that can be expected of dirt, really. but we'll take care of you until you do, when you'll no longer need us, and when we longer have to bother with you, because if we don't, then who will? certainly not god. that ship has sailed. and if, in spite of our care, you CAN'T learn to accept your fate and be your own dirt, then we'll just bury you like half of the others, to be reunited with the rest of the dirt. either way, we won't have to deal with you for very long, just as we shouldn't.

[snazz-master-m]

You want an angsty one shot? We'll have a kinda angsty one shot

Why did she go to this dimension. Ivor said it would be fun, a bit scary but FUN! Now he is probably on a date with Harper or something. God she was being salty. Yes, Gabriel had agreed to go but he had suddenly come down with a fever and Ellie forced him to stay at home. Damn it. If he was here she probably wouldn't be stuck in a rapidly decreasing space. The panels battered her arms and legs as she struggled against the pressure. Tears pricked her eyes as her arms gave in. She was going to be crushed to death. Taking one more shuddery breath, she closed her tired eyes. There was a groaning sound and the panels ground to a halt. She couldn't move her arms, but Jesse was alive. She was alive! Relief spread through her body just for a second. Relief soon turned to a sick feeling as a dark grey/white gass filled the tiny chamber. The taste. The taste of salt and what could only be described as zombie blood filled her mouth. Jesse struggled to even breath as the silver gas began to wrap around her throat. Well. Gas she thought, but now it felt like pure death. Her lungs were on fire and every muscle felt like molten lava. Her eyes were teared up and her nose was bleeding, and a few minor cuts she had got before being captured were pumping out her scarlet blood at an alarming rate. The armour meant to protect her was now rendered useless. The raven haired girl felt a ghastly chill run across her body, and let out a cry of defeat before everything turned that silvery grey. When Ivor had bought Jesse to this dimension, he explained it was a very peaceful one. So when he went off to go see Harper about a new machine, he thought Jesse could handle herself. As he and Harper were walking back, he heard an ear shattering creak and groan. Running to get back to where Jesse was meant to be, he spotted patches of blood on the floor. His heart sunk as he saw that his apprentice, his daughter almost, was missing. In her place a note. "Hope she dosent mind cramped places. Hope you don't mind her blood. Love from your pal.... PAMA" Ivor let out a sob, just as Harper arrived. She gave a confused look to the usually grumpy man. He simply wiped tears from under his eyes and gave her the note. Harpers eyes widened at the last few words. PAMA?! How was he alive. How was he in this dimension. Unless... Ivor's head bolted upright at a sudden ghaspy squeak. He knew that little scream anywhere. JESSE! He ran like he had never before. Harper only caught up with him as he got to the grey building. It was covered in cobwebs and had a few zombies outside. His blood ran cold as he saw that they had red eyes. Now Harper had been careful about going to different dimensions. She always carried water after the PAMA ordeal and now seemed like a good time to utilise it. "Go, see if it's Jesse in there, I'll kill them." Ivor took no time launching into action, breaking a redstone circuit and breaking open the top of the machine. Inside was Jesse, unconscious, bleeding,crying,and in a space which a contortionist would have a struggle to fit into. There was a thick, silver gas surrounding her and she was coughing and spluttering all over. Pulling her out of the tiny spot, Ivor put his head to her chest, but then quickly put his hand on her throat because he remembered that that was a good way of checking pulse. It was slow, it was very faint, and he didn't know if her was imagining it but it was a heartbeat. He cried in relief and went to check if she was breathing. He opened her mouth only to see that a black liquid filled it. Tipping her onto her side, he got a lot of it out. Still, no breath. Harper arrived looking slightly damp, and saw that the teen wasn't even taking one breath. "We've got to get her out of here, look, I've got a potion of water breathing, maybe that'll help." Ivor muttered breathlessly. Ivor held the potion in his hand before tipping the gloopy contents into jesses mouth. It ran down her through without much resistance. He noted the red streaks down her armour, and how parts of it were crumpled. He and Harper ran to the portal entrance at full speed and didn't stop even in the portal corridor. At least she was kinda breathing now, though it was broken up with pained noises and murmurs that spilled from her mouth. Running through his home portal and tripping as he went through, Ivor gained his footing in the nick of time. Petra was doing her usual patrole of the woods near the portal exit so Harper ran head first into the ginger warrior. "Ow Harper why did you do that girl?" She said in a jokey voice. "Jesse n-not good. P-p-p-PAMAS back. Jesse -- almost dead. Get help" Ivor said in a high pitched and staggered voice. Petra saw the now dribbling girl and took Harper and Ivor by the hands. She was running too now. They ran to a settlement the new order had made that was away from the city so the old order could train there without being egged. When Ellegaard went to open the door, she expected Ivor and Jesse to walk in happily, not too many injuries(obviously some for Jesse but she could trip up in space.). Why did she never get her wish. As Ivor, Petra and Harper ran in, carrying a very disheveled Jesse she immediately ran to get a doctor. The day got worse. First Gabe now Jess. God. When Jesse woke up, she couldn't see. She didn't even want to open her eyes. The taste of salt and zombie blood lingered in her mouth, and she thought she was still in the machine. The gas felt as if it clung to her and a liquid covered her mouth. She spluttered a bit and a cold thing on her lip was removed. Everything hurt. Her arms had cramps, her stomach was eating its self, her lungs felt like she had smoked 20 packs of cigars a day for ninety years, her nose felt goopy and her back felt as if hornets were stinging every cell at the same time. Slowly, she opened her red eyes and saw that Ellegaard ,while very blurry, was looking at her intently, holding a bottle of water. The gas was there but the machine was missing. Jesse blinked a few times, and her focus improved. "Wait but I I -*cough* don't understa*cough*nd why m I here*cough* where's the...what? Is goin o*cough cough cough*" Ellegaard shushed her as her throat tightened. "Jesse, it is basically torture to make you tell us what happened so I'm going to ask you to write it down.Is that okay?" Jesse flexed her hand and was met with a spike of pain. She tapped her fingers together to test preassure and the pain increased. The wincing did not go unnoticed. "Scrap that. Tell me in vague words what happened and then when you get better you can complete it." "Dimension with Ivor. Ivor went to see Harp*cough*. Zombies caught me*cough*. Machine went in and in. Silver gas*cough*."Jesse squeaked and had another coughing fit. Olivia, who had been waiting outside the whole time, ran in, unable to stand hearing her friend in pain again. "Pass me the water" Ellie obliged and Olivia poured some down jesses throat. The green eyed girl struggled for a second but drank some anyway. She was shaking and when Olivia took away the bottle, she made a gagging noise. Olivia noted that her eyes were not the bright emerald green, but a darker, dull moss green. Her eyes began to fluttter closed and her body relaxed slightly. Olivia smiled as she realised she was asleep. Then, the goggled girl left the room with Ellie Ellegaard was the first to speak to Ivor about Jesse. She explained the situation, and that the silver gas was uncommon and fatal. She explained that Jesse had a very high chance of dying, but with the right help she could just about survive, although she would be claustrophobic and most likely scared of brewing potions. The gas its self is a strengthened potion of wither. Ellegaard also explained that there was a cure, but it was painful. Ivor went to jesses room. She looked so small, surrounded by the bed. She squeaked and squirmed in her sleep. She was pale and her stomach made awful growling noises. Ivor knew that the town didn't know that their hero was dying because of him. Or so he thought. In jesses mind, she was not in the chamber, but watching as her friends one by one were choked by a different gas. Purple. Then, they were replaced with darkness as she was placed back in the grey chamber to die once more. She snapped upwards. Then immediately regretted it as her body screamed in pain. She was in a cold sweat and her breathing erratic. Ivor asked if she wanted something to eat. Nodding and coughing once more, she flopped down onto the bed. The coughs were wheazy and partly squeaks. Ivor left the room and came back with a bowl of beetroot soup. Little did Jesse know that he had poured Ellegaards 'miracle cure' into the soup. As she drank it, her face turned from pained to satisfied. She finished it, and immediately looked better. There was a feint pink in her cheeks and her eyes didn't look as tired. Ivor smiled as her shoulders relaxed. "What was in that?" She asked, her voice still a little hoarse "A potion Ellegaard gave me, her doctors have a small supply of them after a boomtown civilian came to them with a dampened down set of the symptoms you have." "Oh! That's not good. But like what was in the cure." "Gunpowder, glowstone, potion of instant health, regen and a golden apple. So tell me, was PAMA there." "PAMA?! Ha. You're kidding. PAMA wasn't there why'd ya think that?" Ivor showed her the note. Jesse looked incredibly confused. "Wait wait wait wait wait that looks like hold on" Jesse scrambled about in her pockets for a book. "See. The handwriting is exactly the same." "Oh. Who's the book by." There was silence for about five minuets. "SOREN I SWEAR TO NOTCH I WILL RIP YOUR INTESTINES OUT AND SHOW THEM TO YOU!" Said Olivia angrily