#and another horrible terrible thing: being the passenger of a man my age

[diari0deglierrori]

I realized something terrible this week… I think I don’t like being a passenger princess 😔

[songfell-ut]

Happy birthday to:

@venelona! I set out to prove that I could do a gift on time, and even if time zones have come between us, it’s totally the 4th right now for me, dammit. So here you go, stolen directly from your conversation on @lailosh‘s server and based of course on these comics.

(Omfg, I told my daughter I was happy I finished a birthday gift on time and now she’s nattering to her class on Zoom about how today is her mom’s friend’s birthday and the teacher is asking if we’re doing anything)

Anyway

The bedroom was quiet. Not too quiet—the air conditioner hummed and traffic noises filtered in from the busy street outside, as usual. It was just the quiet of an early-evening bedroom with no one in it yet, sleeping or playing on their phone or doing you-know-what…

…Not that the room’s usual occupant ever did much know-what. In fact, she never did any of it. He definitely would’ve noticed. He noticed everything.

For example, he knew the moment the sun’s last rays finally died out and warm, sweet darkness began sinking into the room, pooling under her bed and creating the ideal space for someone – something – like him to emerge.

Nightmare permitted himself a tiny grin, letting his tentacles writhe in anticipation. He’d been resting and gathering his power for over a month, building enough strength to invade the waking world. Let her think he’d grown tired of trying to reach her again after…after that, her shocking indecency, showing him all that soft warm naked skin and touching him with no he had to focus

Yes. She probably thought she’d won and driven him off with her horrible wiles! Well, what would she say when he came for her—no, when he completely platonically attacked her in her own world, where she thought she was safe? There was nowhere to run from him in her nightmares, but she could always wake up. Here, though…

Nightmare took the magical equivalent of a deep breath, running his tentacles along the barrier between his world and the reality inhabited by humans. It was a delicate process, but he used the barest touch of power to find the barrier’s weak spot, nudge the folds of subspace aside and insert his tentacles one at a why did this feel so inappropriate time, until he was through!

The space under her bed was…not spacious. In fact, if he hadn’t been so viscous, Nightmare could well have found himself stuck. It was enough to make him contemplate giving up and slipping back into his own world, where an eldritch being could stretch properly and not think terrible, untoward things from something as innocuous as penetrating into her wo—

No! As a being of infinite cosmic horror who fed on the suffering of lesser creatures, Nightmare had no intention of backing out now…not the least because he couldn’t back up any further without hitting the wall. What kind of pathetically undersized dwelling was this?

At least he knew her routine, and that she’d be in here soon enough: she was doing the dishes, and then it was time for her shower. Should he strike while she was rummaging in her closet for her favorite cotton robe, the one with the stupid pink flowers? Or lie in wait until she came in afterward, threw her towel off, and eventually got into her pajamas? …Assuming she bothered wearing any. He never watched that part, no matter how much he…well…

Nightmare squeezed his eye shut. Things would be different after tonight, he vowed. Once he’d given her another glimpse of real terror, she’d never taunt him again! He would unleash his most hideous abominations upon his not-scantily-clad victim, and her fear would make him strong enough to finally see—

—a set of dainty black paws wandering in through the half-open door. The skeletal creature froze, slipping a little further back under the bed. Since when did Frisk have a damned cat? And where was it going?! Surely the beast wasn’t stupid enough to approach him?

The cat took a few hesitant steps, then stopped and growled under its breath, tail lashing. Good! Let it make all the noise it wanted. If it got close enough to grab, he’d—

Nightmare was so busy thinking of ways to make the cat sorry for existing that he didn’t notice one of his tentacles eagerly creeping out from under the bed, reaching to grab the little animal…until the cat’s paw went whapwhapwhap and smacked him with needle-sharp claws. “Oww!” he snarled. “You…!”

The kitchen was just down the hall; to his alarm, Frisk had turned the water off. “Nero?” she called. Her footsteps drifted toward the bedroom, and Nightmare crammed himself back against the wall. “Ne—geez!” she yelped as the cat came rocketing out of her room. “What’s wrong with you?” the young woman demanded, her voice trailing after him. “Come back here and answer me, you little…!”

That was too close. Nightmare breathed a sigh of relief, and considered reaching across the room to shut the door; his powers of telekinesis had all but vanished as his…other talents developed. But no, she was an intelligent young lady, and she’d wonder why it was suddenly closed. Besides, the substance coating his limbs would leave telltale greenish-black traces. He just had to hope she wouldn’t notice the flecks of it on the carpet that had been whacked off—that had been forcibly removed by the cat clawing his tentacle.

So the skeletal abomination settled himself to wait, very patiently, as befitted a creature of his age and magical stature. He was always happy to pass the time devising new tortures to inflict upon his victims. Frisk never failed to disappoint him, provided she had clothes on, and once he’d had his way with—once he was finished platonically terrorizing her, she’d never say any ridiculous things about naked or marriage ever again!

Only a minute later, Frisk came back down the hall. “I know, Mom,” she was saying, presumably on the phone. The hall light came on; Nightmare steeled himself for the bedroom light, but to his intense relief, she went to the bathroom instead. “Yeah, I’m gonna go to bed early tonight. I’ve got new contacts, and they’re giving me a headache.” There was a rummage through her medicine cabinet, then some vaguely cloth-sounding noises. “Of course Nero’s doing fine. He just got his wet food, and…he’s already heading to the litter box again. Goody.” Sigh. “Are you guys having fun on your amazing cruise that you wouldn’t take me on?”

Ah. That explained the cat’s presence. And it was also excellent nightmare fuel: he could make her see her parents out on the ocean, having a wonderful time until, say, the walls of the ship split open and grew teeth to begin devouring the passengers, or some kind of disease started spreading that made people turn inside out…Frisk was always susceptible to body horror. Oh, yes, he knew how he could take advantage of her. …Platonically!

“Thanks, Mom,” she said loudly, breaking in on his definitely-not-filthy thoughts. “Have fun. Love you.” He heard her set something down in the kitchen, then sigh, padding back down the hall.

Nightmare settled down to wait again, only to flinch at the sound of sudden, rapid footsteps: Frisk burst into her room and leapt onto her bed with a little “Whee!” The mattress flattened beneath her weight, mashing into his skull; he cursed silently in the tongues of a thousand mortal worlds as Frisk flopped onto her back. “Oh, man, what a day,” she muttered. “Stupid contacts.” Yawn. “Don’t care about the shower, do it in the mornin’…”

That was…remarkably cute, Nightmare thought, then tried to un-think it as she rolled onto her side, relieving some of the pressure. If only they were in his realm! Her mind would be an open book, and he could effortlessly seize her subconscious and steer it in any direction he chose. In this world, he had to wait till her breathing slowed, then grip the carpet and glide out from under the bed on a layer of the noxious stuff coating his body.

Once his torso was free, he silently eased his legs out and rose to his knees. His tentacles quivered with eagerness as he started to turn toward the b—

“Gotcha!”

…If Nightmare had had any friends, and one of them had asked him the likelihood of his next victim not just taking him by surprise, but grabbing him by the neck with rubber kitchen gloves? He would have laughed, and then killed them, because they were clearly insane and he didn’t have any friends.

But by all that was unholy, his theoretical dead friend was not insane. Instead of giving Frisk a (perfectly chaste) glimpse into her own personal Hell, Nightmare found himself being scruffed like an indignant kitten and hauled toward the light switch; instead of latching onto her and ripping her flesh from her bones, his tentacles had just enough time to form a protective seal over his eye before the room was flooded with foul, searing light.

“Oh my God, shut up!” Frisk shouted over his wails of pain. “It’s just one lightbulb!” She shouldered the door open and began dragging him down the hall. “You’re not melting or anything! But if you want to, go for it—it’d probably be an improvement!”

“How dare you!” The eldritch skeleton flailed with both arms and kicked at random, to no avail. “Release me now!”

“Why?” she snapped. Nightmare made another series of agonized noises as she pulled him all the way into the brightly lit bathroom. “I’m not letting you go till you apologize and we get everything cleaned up!” She slammed the door shut and locked it for emphasis. “Got it?!”

He still couldn’t bring himself to uncover his eye. “How? How did you know—”

“The cat had a bunch of gross slime all over his paw! Who do I know that gets gunk everywhere and smells like a hot dumpster? Gee, let me think!” Frisk still had an iron grip on his neck, fingers digging between the vertebrae. With her other rubber-gloved hand, she banged open the linen closet and began pulling things out, piling them on the toilet lid. “I had to scrub it off him so he wouldn’t eat it and die or something. So then I thought to myself, Wow, Self! I already had to wash one dumb thing I didn’t want here! Why not go for a double?”

The implication hit him as she yanked a knob and started the shower full-blast. “You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed.

Frisk stopped dead. For a moment, Nightmare entertained hopes of mustering enough strength to break loose and reach the light switch. When one tentacle eased free, though, she pivoted until he was fully facing the vanity lights, holding firm as he writhed in agony. It felt like miniature suns burning into his slime and bone…

…but only for a moment. The next thing he knew, Frisk had turned him away again, leaning over to shield him from the light. “Believe it or not, I don’t like hurting you,” she said severely. “But you’re in my world now, literally, and you’re not Mr. Big Scary Hentai Monster. You’re more like a vampire in a crappy horror game—all I have to do is turn the lights on. So, you’d better behave. Got it?” Her grip somehow tightened. “Here we go. Hold your breath!”

Nightmare didn’t have time to request any further details, because she was already ripping back the shower curtain and stepping into the tub with him, holding him under the water as she pulled the curtain shut. “There! I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” she said cheerfully, patting his topmost tentacle. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

It did not feel nice. The hot water felt like…like…it was bad and he hated it. Yes. It was terrible, and not oddly pleasant or soothing once he got used to it, not at all like being massaged by a thousand tiny hands. In fact, he hated it so much that he relaxed, telling himself he was tricking her into dropping her guard.

Behind him, Frisk hummed in satisfaction and reached out of the curtain. Nightmare’s tentacles began to loosen almost imperceptibly, but constricted again as the human tapped on them. “Hold still. I don’t even know if this stuff hurts when it gets in your eyes…well, eye. But like I said, I don’t get off on torturing people.” Something – probably a bottle – made a sploot sound as she squeezed it. “You just smell really bad.”

Nightmare couldn’t help flinching at the first cold, rough touch of the shower loofa. “I do not ‘get off’ on it,” he informed her. “I can’t help what I am, can I?”

“Hmmm. Yeah,” she said absently. “Yeah, you absolutely can. At least, you can control what you do.” A strange floral scent filled the room as she began a brisk, gentle scrub-down, removing most of his protective slime; he unconsciously folded his legs to sit forward more comfortably, letting her angle the showerhead so that more water streamed over him. “Would you die if you went too long without scaring the crap out of someone?”

The skeletal monster had to suppress a shudder as her fingers slipped between two of the tentacles. No one had touched him like this in…ever, or at least as far back as he could remember. “Probably,” he muttered, telling himself to calm down. It was perfectly innocent, just a wretched human daring to lay hands on him, earning the most terrible punishment imaginable— “Would you die if you went for too long without eating?” he added.

Scrub. Scrub. “Well, duh. But if I want a burger, I don’t sneak into the cow’s house to taunt it first.”

Nightmare did shudder this time as her hand glided over the same spot over and over again, leaving a very sensitive layer of ectoplasmic flesh. His tentacles were stirring with interest, and the more firmly he told them to stop it, the more they all wanted to be washed. One was actually angling itself to let her rub it harder. “I…fine! Just hurry it up.”

“Aww, see? It’s not so bad,” she chirped. The tentacle stretched luxuriously, and Nightmare fought to keep another one from rising to demand the same treatment. “At this rate, you’ll be nice and clean in just a few hours!”

Hours?! He did his best to open his eye, raising one hand to protect him from the light. “You’re joking. Right?” She made an indifferent noise, and he tried to grab at the loofa with his other hand. “Let me do it, then!”

“Nope,” said Frisk, giving the shower curtain a threatening nudge with her elbow; he twitched as the light flickered around its edge. “Just relax, okay? Let your loving wife take care of you~”

He felt his entire skull flush bright green. “You are not my wife!”

The human made a pouty sound. “How can you say that, honey? After all we’ve been through together!” The scrubbing intensified. “I know you wanted more romance. Is that why you came all the way here to see me?” The scrubbing paused. “How did you get into the real world, anyway?” she asked, much more seriously.

Nightmare willed more of his tentacles to peel themselves off his skull, and to behave themselves. “With magic. Don’t waste my time with stupid questions.” The light was just a bit dimmer in here through the shower curtain – enough for the pain to start receding – and he needed to adjust to it; no point formulating an escape plan if he couldn’t see what he was doing.

Frisk slowly removed her grip from around his neck. “Okay, then. I see how it is.” She heaved a sigh, then picked up the bottle again.

This was his chance—Frisk was distracted, with both hands occupied, and his vision was clear. Nightmare grinned in silent malice, flexing his bony fingers as they lay in his lap. Most of his power was still depleted from entering this world, but he had more physical strength in one tentacle than ten mortal men. And this was one slim, soft, pliant young woman! He could take her—he could overpower her with virtually no effort!

It would be ridiculously simple: turn around, grab her, and force her to turn the lights off, for starters. Then they could talk about how she had treated him like a misbehaving cat, and—

She chose that moment to drop the body wash and make him jump. “Crap! Sorry,” Frisk said.

The monster made what he hoped was an agreeable noise and picked up the bottle, which was pretty slippery. “Here,” he murmured. “If you’re going to—”

Without warning, Nightmare sprang to his feet and whirled around, backing the startled human against the shower wall. “Now,” he snarled, “you daaaaaaaaaaaaaugh”

Frisk watched, disbelieving, as the dripping-wet monstrosity jerked backward, arms flung up to shield his eye, as though she had turned a spotlight on him and also thrown some holy water. “I was wondering if you’d noticed,” she remarked. “Did you think I was actually talking with my mom that whole time? I just didn’t want you to know I was taking my clothes off.”

“Why?!” he nearly shrieked. “Why would you do that?”

“‘Cause I didn’t want them to get gunked up! That stuff doesn’t look like it washes out. You’d better help me get it off the carpet, by the way.” Frisk chuckled, and that teasing note crept back into her voice, the one he’d heard so many times in his own nightmares: “If I lose my security deposit, it’ll be your fault. How do you plan to compensate me for that, I wonder~”

Nightmare couldn’t speak; he just emitted a stream of “Y-y-y-y-y—”

“Yyyes, I’m naked,” she agreed, retrieving the bottle. Almost against his will, Nightmare’s eye cracked open in time to watch her set down the loofa, peel the gloves off, goop some body wash onto her hand, and begin blithely rubbing it over her skin. “No offense, but I don’t want you all over me yet.”

The monster’s eye bulged so hard that Frisk snorted. “I meant this, dummy!” She indicated the slimy loofa, and leered at him. “What did you think I meant?”

It was tempting to throw himself out of the shower and hope for death’s sweet embrace, but to his steadily increasing horror, the skeleton couldn’t move his feet. As his gaze swept unwillingly up and down her body, the way her skin glistened as her hands squeezed and stroked it, Nightmare’s desire to grab her shifted…and his tentacles agreed.

Frisk was opening her mouth to say something when one appendage snaked up and began petting her shoulder, which was somehow even warmer and smoother than it looked. “Whoa,” she remarked, looking from it to him and back with wide eyes. To his dismay, her mouth quirked a little. “What happened to romance, Nightmare? Didn’t you want to dance in the moonlight, eat Peking duck, or whatever?”

“I’m n-not—” Nightmare tugged at the errant tentacle, first with his hand, then his magic. To his very dismay, Frisk was reaching up to poke at it, giggling as it brushed her cheek. “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded of the world at large.

As if mocking him, another tentacle lurched at the young woman, making him stagger forward till he had to catch himself with his hands on either side of her. Frozen in place, Nightmare unwillingly watched a few errant suds trickle down her neck, sliding merrily off her collarbone and along the side of her breast before continuing to the brave new worlds beyond—

“Um,” said Frisk, still sounding more amused than perturbed. Her eyes met his, then flicked to her left meaningfully.

Aaaand of course another tentacle had slid around her wrist and along her arm. “Oh, my,” she said, bemused. Nightmare’s soul did a backflip as the young woman moved forward, the tentacles drawing her closer, till her breasts were nearly touching his soaking-wet jacket. “Are you actually coming on to me, or—eep!”

That was probably due to yet another tentacle worming around behind her and running up and down her back, eliciting a little moan. The skeleton wanted desperately to wrench himself free, or at least tell her to be quiet, but…

Frisk was flushed, her breath coming quick and shallow. Nightmare watched her hands come up to rest on his ribcage, picking off bits of slime. “What now?” she murmured.

Nightmare wanted to tell her that she’d won, and please go put on clothes now so he could leave and never come back. He also wanted to tell her that this wasn’t how he’d envisioned their next encounter, or that young women in his day knew better than to trap extradimensional beings in the shower with them; he wanted to be very stern about doing this kind of thing the right way, because she deserved the right way, not…this.

He wanted to stop himself as his fingers rose to brush her damp hair off her face and his skull drooped to rest on her bare shoulder…but he didn’t.

He didn’t want to give up and let his tentacles wind around Frisk to pull her against him, or to put his arms around her, encasing her entire body. But he did.

“Nightmare?” Frisk whispered.

It wasn’t romantic. But if she didn’t care—

Nightmare summoned his scant reserves of magic, and raised his hand long enough to snap his fingers.

The lights went out.

 ~

 Not long afterward – just a few days after her parents got back and collected Nero, with only a few inquiries as to what that smell was – Frisk went on a shopping trip that raised several eyebrows: she bought several shower curtain liners, a dozen bottles each of Amber Sunrise and Moonlit Jasmine body wash, every single Stain Stick on the shelf, and a steam cleaner.

If that wasn’t strange enough, her neighbors soon started complaining about odd noises in the middle of the night, and at least one of them made rude remarks about how she had to be hoarding trash or something. When the landlord came in for an inspection, though, all he saw was a scrupulously clean apartment with a faint, lingering odor that he couldn’t identify.

It was hard not to see a heap of folded plastic in the corner of her room, but there were no bloodstains – or recent unsolved murders that he knew of – and anything else she chose to use it for was none of his business; Frisk accepted his admonishment to keep it down, whatever it was, and promised to maintain her new cleaning schedule.

Her neighbors didn’t hear much of anything after that. There was nowhere to run from him in her nightmares, but that was fine—she was in no hurry to wake up. After all, she wasn’t the one who’d been caught, was she?

[formerprincess]

A tale written with fangs and claws || Chapter 58

Chapters: 58/? Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt Characters: Liam Dunbar, Theo Raeken, Mason Hewitt, Corey Bryant, Nolan (Teen Wolf) Additional Tags: Alpha Liam Dunbar, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, Dunbar Pack, Bisexual Liam Dunbar, Werewolf Theo Raeken, Alpha Theo Raeken, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, Mates, Liam and Theo are mates, Top Theo Raeken, Bottom Theo Raeken, Top Liam, Bottom Liam Dunbar Series: Part 1 of Morning Dew Pack

Liam has to take care of a very important matter. And there is an invitation...

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Liam immensely enjoyed working for Ellie. She was happy to show him her craft, teach him things, but she was also very easygoing, and as long as she saw him trying, she loved him and was thrilled with his performance. Also, Ellie knew about the supernatural, so she completely understood when he looked at his phone after it chimed with a text, just in case his pack needed him. Not that anything had come up in the few weeks since Liam started working for her, but he liked to have this option. He didn't have to hide anything, and Liam realized how much better he felt with that.

When work was slow, they talked about a lot of things and Ellie taught Liam some things about supernatural creatures. She had laughed loudly at the story about the fairies in their garden and proceeded to elucidate the different variations of fairies and elves. There were plant fairies, water fairies, sun fairies, and almost that many elves classes. Just like there were different weres out there. Liam felt kind of silly he didn't know about any of this and one day voiced his thoughts. Was he simply ignorant or just blind?

"Neither. You're from a town where none of those things exist. Don't blame yourself for that", Carlie said. Carlie was one of Ellie's three best friends, the other two being Libby and Simone. All three were at Ellie's age and the friends had a weekly meeting at the shop where they sat together, talked about their lives, drank tea or coffee, and ate cookies. Carlie herself was a petite woman with short spiky hair and big square glasses. From what they had told Liam upon first meeting, they all were elves but Liam secretly suspected Carlie of being a pixie. She was cheeky, witty, always said what was on her mind, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. Needless to say, Liam liked her. "Yeah, but I also feel like I should know more." "You know enough. About Onis and Berserkers and Kitsunes and hell and other terrible things. You're twenty. Most guys your age know how to party and wear their base caps the wrong way." She bit into a cookie. Liam laughed. "My boyfriend likes to wear his caps the wrong way. He looks hot with it. But he also knows other things." "You have so much time to learn still. Don't worry. Even we old ladies don't know about any supernatural being out there", Simone comforted him and filled her cup with some more tea. She was the opposite of Carlie; tall, thin, and the quietest of the bunch. "I also agree with Carlie, you know about terrible things, traumatic things, things one should not know about. Especially not this early in life. But unfortunately, trauma is also experience. " Liam made a face. He sat down on the armrest of one of the chairs Ellie had placed around. "I just could have lived without some of those experiences. I mean, I could have gone without the experience of being homeless but hey. Maybe that's just me." Ellie put her arm over the backrest of her chair and turned to look at Liam. "When have you been homeless?" They talked about a lot of stuff but Liam's life story, she only knew parts of it. Good parts. He didn't want to deliver sob story after sob story. Liam had a good life, he knew some people had it worse. He cherished that. Now he exhaled loudly through his nose and then he told the four women how the hyenas came into town and caused havoc, how they finally destroyed the house and left the pack picking up the pieces. He ended with the move to the new house.

After he finished, his listeners were shocked. "You experienced all this and you still find it in yourself to be such a happy and polite young man?" Libby asked in awe. She was usually full of life and laughed loudly, her afro curls always bouncing around her round face, but now she was stunned. Liam shrugged. "What's the option? Turning bitter? It worked out in the end. Doesn't mean I will ever forgive them for what they did but no one died, at least." "You are a terrific young man, Liam", Ellie praised. He smiled softly. "Thank you."

The store door opened and Angela, Ellie's oldest daughter, stepped into the shop. She was a lawyer and used her breaks to visit sometimes. She greeted everyone happily and hugged her mother. Liam ran to get her a fresh cup and dragged another seat to their circle so he should sit and interact with the group. She squeezed his arm in a silent thank you as she sat down and accepted the cup. "What were you guys talking about? Is everything okay?" She asked good-heartedly. "Liam just told us about those horrible, horrible hyenas who destroyed his house" Libby filled her in. Angela raised both eyebrows. "I hope none of you were harmed." "Everybodys fine. We managed to get out in time before the house exploded. I'm just grateful I got my brother out of town before it happened." "Oh, you have a brother? I didn't know that." Angela loved kids and had specialized in family rights. She claimed she liked to help kids get justice. "Hm." Liam nodded. He walked to the cash register where he left his phone and while he walked back searched through his pictures. "Landon. He's almost ten." She showed her and the rest of the women the picture and they all cooed how much alike the brothers looked. "You said you brought his out of town? So I take he's usually living with you? Your parents must appreciate such a tight brother's bond." Angela was surprised but happy. Liam hesitated. "Landon's not my mother's son. We're half brothers. Same dad. Well, father. Sperm donor. My biological father is...he's a piece of shit. Alcoholic. Abuser. You get it. I didn't even know Landon existed until we met months ago by a pure coincidence. The circumstances don't matter but in the end, Theo and I took him home with us. Not a chance I would have let him stay with that man. So he lived with us in the house. Until I brought him to the lake to keep him safe. He lives there now." Liam missed Landon terribly but they were all still so young, they could not care for a child properly. Byron and Lana were perfect for that task and Landon also liked them. He blinked. "But enough of sad stories. Let's talk about something different, okay?"

****** He was cleaning up after Ellie's friends had left. After he had basically pleaded for a change of topic, the talk had revolved around lighter topics and ended on a very funny note. Now Ellie was in the back, doing some accounting, and Liam manned the front of the store. Angela was the only one still there. Now she stepped to the cash register where Liam was currently filling some jars with bagged candy. "I'm going to tell you something, not as a friend but as a lawyer, okay? And I need you to listen." She looked serious and Liam tensed. What happened? "Did I do something wrong? Is your mother mad at me?" "No. But listen." She tapped both index fingers on the counter. "You need your biological father to sign his rights over to you as fast as possible. What you said about him, having him in Landon's and your life is dangerous and not good for either of you. So you need to act fast. Have him make you Landon's legal guardian." Liam frowned. "I planned on doing so once I turned twenty-one. I wasn't aware I can do it now. Thought I had to be twenty-one." Angela shook her head strictly. "No. You need to do it now. In most states, anyone who is eighteen years old can become a guardian. Look, who tells you your father agrees to it in a year? He still holds guardianship and can make decisions for your brother. If he does not sign over his rights, he has so much time to cause harm. You said Landon's almost ten. That means another eight years of having the right to decide about medical procedures, school enrollment, the living situation. Even if Landon stays with you, all it takes is somebody checking who is the legal guardian for Landon. Could be school, could be a doctor's office, or if he gets in trouble it could be the police. If he's in the hospital. For eight years, you have to always fear for this to happen. If your father does not sign his rights over." "If he does not do it on his own, I will take him to court." Angela shook her head even more firm this time. "Honestly? They will ask you where Landon lived for the past year. Legally, what you and Theo did was kidnapping. If you manage to get a strict judge, that alone will cause you to lose the case. Landon will get sent back to his father and you're probably not even allowed to see him. I told you, I'm not telling you this as a friend. As your friend, I understand why you did it, as a lawyer I have to inform you about this likely possibility. The only chance you have is to have your father make you his guardian." It was a hard pill to swallow and Liam gulped. He had been naive, he realized now, and considered it all easier than it was. And maybe Landon had to pay the price for his neglect. "Thank you, Angela", he mumbled sadly.

****** Liam sat in his car and watched the house across the street. The sun was beating down and these barren landscapes made the air even drier. The dusty roads stirred up sand whenever a car raced by. Bleak. He cast a look at the passenger seat. All documents he needed were laying there, including a pen. Now all that Liam was left to do, was get out of the car, walk up to the door, and get a signature. Angela's stern talk from days ago had left Liam rallied. Once he was home, he had told Theo about everything and the couple had to admit them taking Landon out of the house had been a stupid move from the legal point of view. They had emotions get the better of them and now this potentially harmful situation had arisen. Theo had supported Liam in whatever was needed to ensure he would become Landon's guardian but the Beta was also not a lawyer and as much at loss as Liam.

Thank god for Angela. She had helped Liam set up the documents Emmet had to sign and those documents Liam grabbed now when he exited the car. Theo was not with him, his boyfriend didn't even know Liam was here. Nobody knew. This, Liam felt, was something he had to don his own. Maybe to find a deserving ending. Maybe to test his control. Or maybe this was stupid but then again, Liam could proudly admit he was doing stupid crap now and then. Stiles, according to his own claim, could show Liam a list.

He let out a shaky breath when he walked through the unkempt front lawn. Some new beer bottles and cans had gathered around the chair. Emmet was not there but Liam heard his heartbeat through the ajar window. You're not going to kill him, Liam. He does not deserve you getting your hands dirty. Liam knocked at the door. Inside the house, he heard some bottles falling and Emmet's slurred voice mumbling.  Then scuffling steps and the door opened. And the young Alpha had to gasp and take a step back. "God, you stink!" The stench of booze, beer, and sweat made him almost gag. Disgusting, his man. "You. What do you want?" Emmet slurred angrily and grabbed the door for support. Liam turned his head away and took a few breaths. He willed his nausea down and turned to face his father. "How long have you been drinking, alkie?" "What do you care? Why are you even here? I don't want you." "Trust me, I don't want you either. But I need something from you and that means I have to come here. I would rather be somewhere else, believe that." "What? Want money for the little gremlin? I'm not giving you a dime." Emmet swayed on his feet. "I don't need your money. Go inside, before you fall flat on your face. I'm not catching you." Liam pointed inside the house. His father made a step towards him. "I should beat the crap out of you for talking to me like that and not stop til you're whimpering. Do you know who I am?" "A sorry excuse for a worm." Liam pushed his biological father by the shoulder and he stumbled back. As drunk as he was, he didn't stand a chance against an Alpha.

Emmet was taken by surprise but managed to catch himself at the table. He spewed a few curse words in Liam's direction before he shuffled around and fell on one of the chairs with the grace of a sack filled with potatoes. Liam closed the door and followed inside. His nose twitched and he wanted to retch at the smell and how dirty everything was but he kept himself from it last minute. This was not for him, this was for Landon. "How's your mother? Still wailing about how horrible I am? The slut should be lucky an honest man wanted her." "My mother is neither a slut nor are you an honest man. Don't mention her or I break your nose." Liam felt his anger building up. This was a test for his control and he might fail it. "Piss off! She's the reason you're such a weak bastard. Wonder what happened with the other one. He's just as weak. Cried whenever I hit him. Begged me to stop. Just like you. Oh, I remember you. Your mother screamed and cried when the ambulance came. I would have left you on the ground. Would have taught you a lesson." "I didn't need a lesson, I needed a father who loved me!" Liam slammed the papers on the table. "Here! Sign this!"

Emmet grabbed it after a few tries and dragged it over the table. He narrowed his eyes at the print. "What should I sign?" "Those are the papers for you to make me Landon's legal guardian. Sign and we're out of your hair forever." Liam balled his hands and felt his fingertips itch. His claws wanted to come out, his wolf furious at the man in front of him. Years of pent-up rage welled up and dared to spill over. He could kill Emmet and probably nobody would shed a tear. Laughter disrupted his thoughts. Emmet had left the papers on the table and laughed. It boomed in Liam's ears. His blood rushed through his veins. This man was mocking him. "If you really think I'm signing this crap, you're mistaken. Know why? Because you bastard want me to and you get nothing from me!" Emmet was still laughing but decided to underline his words by spitting in Liam's direction. It landed on the carpet between them. His claws almost broke through and he was ready to lunge but a voice in his head stopped him. No. Not like this. Not him. Maybe it was his wolf who was even stronger than Liam's human side burdened with IED but it was enough to make Liam pause. If you kill him, you'll never become Landon's guardian. Keep the little one safe.

Liam exhaled loudly through his nose and closed his eyes for a second. If even the animal inside him knew better, he would follow. Had to follow. All for his little brother. Landon didn't deserve a murderer for a hero. He opened his eyes and stared at Emmet. Suddenly Liam was seven again, cowering at the floor while his father screamed at him and walked closer and closer. He had put his arms up back then, in a feeble attempt to shield his body from the hits, and pleaded for the man to stop. Fear. Panic. Pain. But this time Liam didn't feel panicked. He was not afraid of this drunkard calling himself a father. Instead, Liam felt disgust and maybe even pity. This guy had nothing to live for. It gave the young Alpha a strange sense of calm. Out of the two of them, Liam was the better man. The better person. IED or not. The condition didn't rule him as much as it ruled his father, and Liam had quite a lot more on his plate.

He sat at the opposite of the table and took the pen in his hands. "And why wouldn't you? What's in it for you? Just to be petty? Just to put one over on me?" Emmet snickered. "It will bug you forever, that's good enough for me." He reached for a bottle of booze and uncorked it to take a swig. Liam glared at him. Then he put the pen down. His glance landed on his bracelet. The bracelet he shared with Theo. Suddenly, he got an idea. Maybe it was time to see if he could take a book out of Theo's playbook. He raised his head and crossed his arms on top of the table. "Okay, fine, don't sign. We will play your game. I will send Landon back to live here." Emmet eyed him. "You're bluffing." "Not at all. He will come and live with you again. But be aware. I will be around every damn day." "And then what? What will you do? Punch me? You're no match for me", Emmet sneered. "If you lay so much as one finger on him, and we both know you will, I will call the cops on you. They will come and they will arrest you for domestic violence. And yes, Landon may be sent to foster care but I will make sure you will be sent to prison. There is no booze, no beer, no schnapps in prison. But the people there love people who abused kids. I know people and I will make sure every inmate knows what you did to two little boys. That's what will be awaiting you. No freedom to get wasted like you're doing now every day. Think about it." His biological father still eyed him suspiciously. "No way you would ever let him live here again." "To get you locked up, I would do other things. Landon too, by the way. All to make sure you will rot in hell. He's tough, he will take whatever you might to do him. Maybe I will move in as well. One happy family. With me comes my boyfriend, obviously. By the way, how's your hand?" He looked at Emmet's fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle. Father and son stared at each other, accessed each other until Emmet snorted. "Your mother raised you better than this. I call bluff. You don't have it in you, weak shit!" A cold, dangerous smile appeared on Liam's face and he leaned closer. "You call my mom a slut and other horrible names, yet you forget I also inherited DNA from you. We both have IED. Wanna find out how much more alike we are? If I'm as cruel as you are?" He gave his father a death glare. "You want to start a war? I'll raise you World War III. Your choice. Either don't sign and feel the whiplash or sign and you will never have to see us again." Liam placed the pen on the papers and waited. His heart was thundering inside his chest. That was not his usual way to carry on negotiations and he had no idea if it worked. Theo made it always seem so easy and pulled it off without a hitch. But Liam knew he was not that good. Emmet grabbed the pen and fiddled with it. He scribbled his signature at the marked fields, an unruly chicken scratch but his signature nonetheless. "Get the hell out of here. If I see you on my front lawn again, I will shoot you." Liam's hand shot towards and he pulled the documents towards himself after the last signature was done. "I have better people to be around than you. Give your liver a break once in a while." He got up just in time as Emmet's hand shot towards his throat. The alcoholic missed by far and his hand thumped on the table. "Fuck off, you piss baby!" The sound of the splintering bottle hitting the wall was the last thing Liam heard from his father when he now left the house without so much of a goodbye.

It only dawned on him what just had transpired when he was in his car and already on the road. Liam stopped at a red light and breathed a sigh of relief. "Holy shit!" He had faced Emmet Dunbar, that one man he hated with a burning passion, the one who had made his childhood horrible and hurt Liam, Ilona, and Landon so much. Against what he had wanted to do to him, Emmet had left the meeting completely without a cut, Liam was incredibly proud of himself. Even though now, that everything settled, his hands shook and his heart raced, adrenaline pumping through his body. That had the potential to go so, so wrong and yet Liam stood tall. He glanced at the papers safely sitting on the passenger seat. Not only had it worked out without Liam losing his temper, but it had also really worked and he was Landon's guardian. The threat of Emmet interfering with their lives and taking Landon away again was erased. Liam wanted to cry.

His phone chimed and Liam almost hit another car. "Jesus Christ!" He accepted the call over the speaker. "Hey, Theo." "Hey. Say, just out of curiosity, where the hell are you? Nobody knows where you left. It's not like you to disappear like that. What's going on." Liam bit his lip. "I was at Emmet's." "Emmet? Emmet Dunbar? Your father? What the fuck! Is he still alive?" "Shh, let me explain. I told you about what Angela said and I went to get his signature. Yes, he's still alive, I didn't touch him. Even though I wanted to." He heard Theo closing a door and birds singing in the background. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have accompanied you." Yeah, good question. Liam didn't know for sure. "I guess...I needed to burn this bridge alone? Prove to myself I can stay calm around him. I'm not like him in any capacity and while I know you and I absolutely adore you for always being there for me, this was something I had to do alone. You understand? Maybe for my own peace of mind, I dunno." Theo was silent for a few moments. "Yeah, I understand", he finally confessed. "Did it work, at least?" A smile broke out on Liam's face. "Yep. Have all the signatures I need. Thanks to you as well." "Thanks to me? What did I do?" "Well, let's say you're a good teacher, even if you don't want to be one. I'll tell you everything once I get home, okay?" Theo laughed. "Okay. Love you." "Love you too."

****** Landon's face appeared on the screen in front of Liam and as soon as he had a picture, the child waved animatedly. "Hello, Liam!" Videocalls were a good way to keep in contact even if they could not see each other in person. Liam happily waved back. "Hey, Landon, how are you?" "I'm good. Zack and I built a fort." Landon launched himself into a story of all the things his best friend and he had done. Lana and Byron appeared in the background of the call but they simply waved and let the boy talk. Liam put his chin in the palm of his hand and listened with a smile. Seeing Landon so carefree and hearing about him being a normal child was all he ever wanted. It came nine years too late and Liam knew his brother must have been affected one way or another by his upcoming but now that he was out of Emmet's claws, Landon was in for an amazing life. After he was done, Landon asked about Liam's life in Seattle. Now it was the older's turn to talk about college, his pack, the fairies (Landon loved this part and he asked thousands of questions). Theo had joined Liam for a while and laughed softly. "He's like you", he whispered into his mate's ear and kissed Liam's cheek before he disappeared out of the frame again after a wave in Landon's direction. Liam chuckled but then he finished his story. "One more thing, Landon. You know we took you away from Emmet, right?" Landon shivered at the mention of his father's name but nodded bravely. "Do I have to go back? Please, don't make me go back!" "No, no, hey, I would never. That's why I'm telling you. He signed all the papers. I am your guardian now." Lana and Byron appeared left and right from Landon. "He did? Oh, how wonderful, Liam." Lana was touched. Landon scrunched his nose. "What does guardian mean?" "It means Liam is responsible for you now and Emmet can never hurt you again. Say you want to go on a class trip, for example, the school has to ask Liam and not your father anymore", Byron patiently explained to him. Landon considered. "So, he can't get me?" "Never again. He's out of your life for good", Liam promised firmly. His brother beamed at the adults. "That's amazing!" "Yeah, it is." Lana stroked through his hair. "But, Sweetie, you have to get ready for bed now. Tomorrow's a school day." "But I want to keep talking to Liam. I'm not finished." Yes, Landon could be stubborn. "We can talk tomorrow, Laddie. After school, yeah? Now you have to get ready for bed. Sleep is important. I'm going to bed now too. Theo does too. See?" He rolled to the side and tilted his screen so Landon could see Theo brushing his teeth with the bathroom door open. Theo waved. It wasn't that he actually wanted to go to bed but he had tried some licorice Mike had brought home, not from Ellie though, and after eating it Theo claimed to have a bad taste in his mouth. Landon huffed. "But we talk tomorrow", he insisted. "Werewolf promise." Liam raised his hand solemnly to swear. "Good Night, Laddie." "Good Night, Liam. Good Night, Theo." Landon stood up. "Good Night, you two," Lana called out and then disappeared with Landon.

Byron sat on the desk chair. "I know he signed but did the meaning with your father go well?" "It did. As well as possible with this man. I was pretty surprised at my control. At a certain point, I was ready to snap but somehow my wolf made me pull back and I got more level-headed." "That's the Alpha in you. Even if our personality or our urges say otherwise, sometimes the Alpha part can balance it out to keep the peace. It is impressive how well you learned to work with your wolf." The praise was nice because Liam tried. Sometimes it felt like all he did was running in circles but then he proved to everyone (and mostly himself) he was a good person and improving. "Speaking of Alpha and peace, Liam I forwarded an email to you just now. Have a look at it, maybe Theo should do so as well."

Theo had dried his mouth and now walked over to lean on Liam's chair while Liam opened the mail Byron had forwarded. It included a word document and when Liam opened it, it turned out to be an invitation to a meeting held in a hotel in Seattle. "Liam, part of being an Alpha are pack politics." Liam whined. "I told you I'm not good at that! What is this? An Alpha congress? I can't go there." "Maybe let the man talk before you cut and run", Theo suggested and smoothly avoided the contact between Liam's elbow and his stomach by moving aside. "I know what you said, Liam, and this is no pressure but I wanted to inform you. The invitation is indeed for an Alpha meeting. No congress, just a few Alphas coming together and talking." "About what?" Liam saw himself on a stage, in front of hundreds of Alphas, a whole auditorium filled with them, and making a fool out of himself. People would laugh. It would be a degrading experience. "Life. This and that. No one is expecting a speech from you, Liam. See I've been to a few of those meetings. There are only packs living close by attending these meetings. They're mostly boring. You stand around, do some small talk, maybe eat a quick snack, and leave. But they can also help you get a better idea of which packs are around yours. In the area. It can be interesting, if only so for scouting. But, of course, that does not mean you have to attend. It's no declaration of war not to go there. Just like you cannot declare war by saying a wrong word if you go." "Those are all Alphas, experienced Alphas probably, and then I show up. Junior McJunington. What will they think?" "Screw what they think. So what if they're older or more experienced? You're you and that's awesome" Theo passionately declared. "Thank you, Dr. Seuss", Liam hissed. He frowned and scratched his cheek. "I have to think about this." "As it is your right. Don't do anything you're not comfortable with." "If I should attend, there will be no problem? I can just show up there?" "The invitation is addressed to the Alpha of the Morning Dew Pack. They seemingly didn't get the memo about the change in our pack but that doesn't matter. The invitation is for you, not for me. Actually, no Beta can attend the meeting. And no Alpha mate either unless they're specifically invited." "I have to go there alone??" Liam shrieked. In his mind, he had Theo by his side. Maybe Brett and Caden since both could be real charmers and have intellectual conversations. Corey would have also a good match despite him being as insecure as Liam in those settings. Byron rubbed his hands together. "Those are the rules. But I know, alone or not, you will be just fine. Should you go or not. This is not something I can do for you. The decision is all yours. Just one more thing, to be fair. you will be the youngest in this group. By a few decades, I suppose. That's why I don't think they will pay you much attention. They're just curious." "Great", Liam said sarcastically. "Given my track records with strange Alphas so far, this will be a marvelous experience."

****** "I don't think you should go. What if that's a trap?" Tim worried about Liam's safety. Liam had informed his pack about the invitation right the next day and after classes, they were sitting in the living room and discussing this. "I think he should go. Just to check the others out. Maybe he can make allies?" Brett opposed. "I also think Liam should go. Byron said he has been to a few of those meetings. I don't think it's a trap", Sadie tried to dissolve Tim's worry and he gave her a grateful look. "The two strange Alphas I met in the last year have both tried to kill me. You understand I'm not keen on walking in a room full of unfamiliar Alphas?" Liam questioned. "I think that should be the reason you go", Ever stated, "to show all of them you're not afraid. If they plan on messing with you, you will look them in the eye. Maybe then they won't underestimate you." "I just don't see the purpose of those meetings. From what Byron said it sounds pretentious." Corey looked peeved. "Oh, it is", Lori confirmed. "But they are not that rare. I don't think you have to be scared, Liam." She offered a genuine smile. Liem returned it cause he knew she was trying to make him feel better. "What do you mean by not rare?" "Well, they're not, if you have Alphas of the old school" Brett took over from his sister. "Modern Alphas just meet up, talk, like Scott with Satomi. They don't even call it an Alpha meeting and send out fancy invites. Those are practices of the old guard, mostly well-esteemed werewolves who love to use those meetings to gossip. Ever seen those movies with scenes in Gentlemen Clubs? Country Clubs? Those are the people to expect at those meetings. Byron's not that far off when he says they won't spare you a look. You're - and don't take this the wrong way - not their type of person, if you know what I mean." "The Alpha from my parents' pack also attends such meetings. They always gush about the delicious and expensive things they eat there. But this woman also has a rich husband and considers herself playing tennis and golf as labor. So, pretty much pompous, entitled snobs", Sadie said. Maya rolled her eyes. "I also know about those meetings but I'm so glad I never met an Alpha going there before. Eh, no offense, Liam." Liam groaned. "Okay, just the danger of becoming the new hot gossip for the elite wolves around. Yeah, I think I'll pass." "I would still go", Caden chimed in. "It's a good opportunity to get to know how many are around. Do you know that? They invited Byron so their radius must be quite large but how many packs live between Seattle and the lake? Wouldn't it be good to know in case we need help? What if the hyenas come back? Having some werewolf allies would not be that bad."

He had a point. They all did. Liam was still torn. For once because he was afraid of making a fool of himself, then for the reason not to offend another Alpha and start a war, and on top of it, he now came to the realization just how different those Alphas seemed to be. He looked at his boyfriend. "What do you say?" Theo had listened to everything and had made up his mind. "You should go. For all those reasons. Byron said there will not come anything bad from it. He would never let you go to any event if he feared something might happen to you. If he says you can go, I believe him. And yeah, it is a good way to get information. Maybe there are not that many packs around.  But you will only find out if you go." Since most of his Betas said he should go, he considered. Maybe it was a good idea indeed. Only one problem: "If it's that high class, what should I wear?"

Fifteen minutes later Liam regretted that question. He stood in his bedroom while Theo, Brett, Mason, and Sadie sat on his bed. Sadie throned between the other guys, one leg crossed over the other, and looked like she was having the time of her life. Liam was the poor victim and had to model several outfits for the self-proclaimed fashion experts of his pack (he knew Theo could dress good but at this point, Liam felt betrayed) who all had other ideas of the perfect outfit. "That dress shirt is perfect for you. Not too out there but also not too normal" Mason praised Liam's current outfit consisting of black pants and a dark grey dress shirt. Liam hated it. It was not even one of his shirts but one of Theo's Mason had just grabbed. His boyfriend had not protested (see, there was the betrayal) but now shook his head. "That's not the outfit to go." "Absolutely right. Liam, grab the one I hung there." Sadie pointed at the clothes and Liam grumbled but grabbed them and stalked into the bathroom. When he emerged again, he was wearing jeans, a blue slipover with a white button-down shirt underneath. Liam felt like he was a kindergartener dressed by mommy. "Now you look like back in Devenford. Then again, maybe this private school flair is exactly what you need", Brett snickered. Liam glared at him and Theo scoffed before he handed Liam the third outfit. Liam glared at him too for good measure and disappeared into the bathroom again.

The outfit Theo had picked for him, Liam didn't even know where he got it. He had never seen Theo wearing this particular combo. Cloth trousers, a polo shirt and a sports jacket over it. "How the hell do you get this? And why do you get this?" He asked once he emerged from the bathroom.   Interesting, Theo became a bit sheepishly. "I got it for some occasions? Maybe a job interview?" "This is so not you." Liam eyed himself in the mirror. "This is so not me either. What were you thinking, guys? None of your outfits were good." "You wanted us to help you", Mason defended himself. "I wanted to get suggestions, not become your dress-up doll", Liam replied sharply. Sadie sighed. "You're being difficult. Don't you want to make a good first impression?" "A good impression as himself, shouldn't that be the goal?" Caden had walked into the room and crossed the arms in front of his chest. He looked at Liam. "You look strange. Actually, you look like me whenever my aunt visited the family. Horrible." "How do you look when your aunt visits?" Brett had to know. Caden pulled out his cellphone and searched a bit before he handed the phone over. Brett snickered. "Okay, thanks for the laugh. So dapper, oh my. One would not think that since you're almost only ever wearing more casual clothing." Sadie giggled. "Does Ever know you can look like that?" "As a matter of fact, yeah. She doesn't like it. I can relate. But my aunt is quite old-fashioned and conservative. She came to town, we dressed like that, covered up our tattoos, the whole shebang. We just never liked it. Liam doesn't like dressing up either." "Tell me about it. That's a topic we have had since we're friends." Mason rolled his eyes. Liam wanted to glare at him but if he was honest, his best friend was right.   So he raised his shoulders. "I have dress shirts. I just happen to like t-shirts and jeans more." "Hence why I think you should wear that", Caden stated. "You are not like the type of Alpha who wears expensive clothing and the latest brands. You're Liam. We like Liam. Why do you want to be somebody you're not? Just to impress people you probably will never see again after that one time?" "That's true." Even Theo had to admit that. "I know when you're comfortable and you never are when you dressed up to a certain extend." "I still think if the occasion calls for it, you should make an effort", Sadie insisted. "It's not about what you want; it's about what our Alpha wants. Liam goes to the meeting and Liam has to represent himself and our pack. He should do it as his truest self possible", Brett retaliated. She pouted.

But then she got up from the bed and walked towards Liam's open closet. She dug around there for a while before she pulled out a pale blue t-shirt. It was a new one, Liam had only worn it twice and he loved how soft the fabric was, it felt good and comfy on his skin. Sadie handed it to him. "The color makes your eyes pop. That and that one light blue jeans you have. If you walk into a room full of strange werewolves, bright colors make you look friendlier." "That's Sadie. If you can't dress them up the way you want, at least get into chromatics", Brett praised.

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Quite a Liam-centric chapter but then again he's the Alpha and Landon's brother. And he had to make decisions. Now the question is, what will happen at the meeting? What do you guys think? All I can say is, I'm excited about the new chapter.

[jennygirl2014]

One Way Ticket-Part 1

Wrote this 2 part fic for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ and her writing challenge.  My prompts were airplane + choking.  This is a dark fic, with elements of CNC. Heed the warnings: NC-17, sexual content, CNC, choking, drugging, kidnapping. Hydra Steve Rogers.  If you’re not cool with it do not proceed.  I’m serious. 

              You hate flying, you always have.  Planes are full of germs, people get mashed in too close to one another, you’re forced to interact with complete strangers or people you wouldn’t normally talk to, and you always had some sort of anxiety about being 30,000 feet in the air.  Becoming an air marshal was not your first choice, in fact it wasn’t even your third choice, but the opportunity landed in your lap, and after the collapse of your last job, you were desperate to find something in the law enforcement field. It was what you knew, it was what you were good at.  Besides, you reminded yourself that the job had one good perk, after serving time on different flights, those planes landed in different places, and who would refuse the opportunity for a mini-vacation?

              This flight was going to land in Hawaii, and you were more than ready to kick back and relax with a couple cocktails by the beach. You had somehow worked it out perfectly, you would be spending four days in the sun and the sand, and you had enough money in your savings account, and enough emotional baggage, to drink your face off for three of those days.  Then you would sober up on the last day, and serve your duties on a flight back home. Life was good.  Nothing was going to kill your vibe.

              After popping your carry-on bag into the overhead compartment, you took a seat by the window and sighed.  It was just before 11, the flight would be taking off in fifteen minutes, the rain that was pummeling the plane and runways wouldn’t be enough to interfere.  The view of the world going by beneath you while you were in the clouds would be the best view you had seen in months, if not over a year.  That was until a handsome stranger took a seat next to you. You did a double take, making sure you weren’t imagining the strong, chiseled jawline and godlike profile.  He wore a black ballcap, thick black framed glasses and a classic brown leather jacket.  So, you had a tropical paradise to look forward to, and you had the view of this gorgeous stranger next to you.  Win, win.  But there was something about this handsome man that looked familiar.  You chose to ignore him and play it cool, you had just gotten out of a bad relationship, and you swore off men for at least a couple months.

Then again, swearing off men didn’t necessarily mean swearing off the opportunity for hot sex on the beach with a good looking stranger.

              The flight took off, as planned, no hiccups, no issues or concerns, no suspicious looking passengers.  In fact, the only thing that was suspicious was the fact that the flight wasn’t packed.  Still, any worries or concerns were quickly pushed out of your brain, this was a routine flight and you were hours away from rest and relaxation.  And when the flight attendant started making her way down the aisle, you realized you didn’t have to wait hours to start relaxing. Nobody knew you were an air marshal, that was one of the perks, so you could order a drink, nobody would know. You politely raised your hand to get her attention and asked for an amaretto sour with extra cherries.  The woman smiled and promptly returned with the drink, with three cherries bouncing along with the ice cubes.  You couldn’t wait to dive into it.

“A little early for a drink, isn’t it?” the handsome stranger next to you finally spoke up.  You shot him a quick glance before turning back to your drink, stirring it with the little pink plastic swizzle stick.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.” You retorted.

“Well it’s only a little after noon here.” You saw the corner of his mouth curve up into a half grin.  You tried to resist the small smile that grew across your lips.  He was handsome and charming, a winning combination.  You hid your smile by taking a sip of your drink, tasting the delicious beverage and feeling your nerves easing up. “I hope this storm doesn’t get much worse.” He commented nonchalantly.

“You’re more likely to die in a car accident than in a plane.” You reassured, reciting the common line.

“Those clouds look like they’re ready to call your bluff.” He pointed out the window, and you turned and took in the sight of darkness approaching.  Flashes of lightning lit up the ominous looking wall of clouds that was getting closer and closer.  You chose to shake it off, an air marshal should know better than to get riled up over a storm, and definitely know better than to alarm civilians.

“Maybe we’ll get a littler turbulence or something, but we’ll be fine.” You turned your eyes back to your drink and eyed it before taking another sip, only the sip turned into a gulp.  

“You must fly often.” He sat back as he spoke.

“Often enough.”

“Business or pleasure?” he asked.  Something about his voice saying the word “pleasure”, gave you goosebumps.  

“Uh, pleasure.” You thought of a quick response.  “You?”

“Business.” He stated very seriously.  

              You had never caught yourself chatting it up with a civilian on a plane before, in fact you hated doing that usually, but this guy charmed it right out of you.  The plane flew into the storm, staying on course, and you were tempted to close the blind on the window to avoid the horrible view.  Flashes of lightning kept lighting up the stranger’s face, and if you didn’t know better you would have thought it was an omen. Some higher force trying to remind you of your horror with your ex-boyfriend, trying to get you to think twice.

“You look familiar.” He finally spoke again after some time had passed.  

“Do I?” you asked, slightly surprised.  You turned to look at him, to completely take him in sight, for the first time in the hour and half you had been sitting next to him.  You still thought the same thing, not sure of what exactly what it was that made you think that.

“Yeah,” he turned and took you in too.  “What’s your name?”

Could you give your name to a civilian?  You had never been asked.  “Becky.” You decided to lie.

“Well Becky, do I look familiar?” he asked you.

You narrowed your eyes, inspecting him.  You thought for a second you had it, that it was on the tip of your tongue, but something clouded your vision.  It was just like waking up from a long nap, and you tried to blink away the blurriness.  It was then that you realized your head felt funny, you had a dull headache coming on, but your brain felt like an engine that was refusing to start.  You blinked a couple times and shook your head.  You suddenly felt your chair jostling around, which caused you to grip onto the armrests.  Before you could try to contemplate what it was, there was another jostle, accompanied by the gasps and concerned voices from other passengers.  

“Attention passengers, we are experiencing a little turbulence.  At this time the pilot asks that you remain seated, place your trays in the upright position and fasten your seatbelts.” The voice of one of the flight attendants came from over the intercom, and it made your head pound harder.  

“You alright?” the stranger asked, sounding concerned.  

“Yeah…I…I, uh…” your brain felt like it was swimming around in your skull.

A cold sweat started forming on the back of your neck, and you felt like you had to run the lavatory to avoid an embarrassing situation. You forced yourself out of your seat and attempted to side step past the sexy stranger to get to the aisle.  More turbulence struck the plane and you couldn’t avoid losing your balance, and you involuntarily tumbled backwards, landing on the stranger’s lap.  Embarrassment struck you far worse than the headache, brain fog and turbulence combined, and you scrambled to try and get to your feet.

“Careful!” he tried to be polite and help you back on your feet.

“Sorry!” you were mortified.  His hands gripped your hips and he tried to help steady you as you stood, but it was a tight fit between him and the seat in front of the both of you.  

“Maybe you should wait until the turbulence stops.” He offered.  

Any other time, his hands on your body would have been exciting, but you had to get to the bathroom and figure out what was making you feel so sick.  You ignored his plea and marched on.  More turbulence shook the plane, making you reach out and grip the seats on either side of you as you tried to make your way down the never-ending aisle.  Your lips were clamped shut, just in case you felt your drinks coming back up on you, but your eyes were busy taking in the concerned faces of the other passengers watching you.  It felt like every eye was on you, and they probably were with the way you were hobbling along.

You were supposed to try and observe and take note of the different passengers, which was hard to do while the room was spinning. There was an older couple holding hands, looking worried about the turbulence and storm.  A mother and her son sat a couple rows behind them, also looking concerned.  A couple middle aged women sat in close proximity, maybe they all were vacationing together.  There were a few men in casual attire sitting hear and there, and a few men in business suits.  All in all, approximately forty passengers, nobody looked suspicious.  Job done, good enough.  Now to continue to the bathroom.  

When you finally reached the bathroom, you slammed the door shut and leaned over the sink.  A dry heave wrenched at your sides, but nothing came up.  Your heart was racing, your head was pounding, sweat started dripping down your neck, and your vision was now clouded with spots.  You wondered what the hell could have made you feel so terrible, you only have two drinks, you didn’t eat anything.  If you didn’t know better, you would have thought you had been drugged.  The thought popped into you head for a moment, but you quickly dismissed it. Who would do such a thing, and why? It made no sense.  All you had to do was splash some water on your face, take a few deep breaths, stop throwing back the drinks, and make it a couple more hours.  

You kept trying to suppress the panic building in your gut, but something felt wrong.  Maybe it was how quickly the situation turned.  One minute you were excited for fun in the sun, throwing back drinks, chatting with a handsome stranger, and the next the plane was being tossed around like a kite in the wind, with a storm raging and you gagging in the bathroom. You tried to take in your reflection, but the now colorful dancing spots in your vision made it difficult.  But you could make out the lack of color in your face and the sweat colleting on your brow.  “What the hell is wrong with me?” you whispered to yourself before turning on the faucet full blast.  You used one hand to steady yourself against the sink, the other to splash the cool water on your face.  The makeup you had on would start to smear, and the sexy man next to you may have noticed.   But why did you care?  That wasn’t important.  After using a paper towel to blot your face dry you drew in a deep breath and leaned against the counter.  You had this, everything was fine, no need to panic.

The sudden commotion from outside the bathroom, and the blood curdling scream, would prove you wrong.  

              You whipped your head towards the door, causing the room to spin worse, and all you could hear was shouting and screaming. Something was wrong, something was very wrong.  A man’s deep voice bellowed over everyone else’s, commanding them to get to the front of the plane.  You could hear the pounding of feet as people scattered around the cabin.  More screams, some crashing and thuds, definitely not to sound of an ordinary flight.  You had to pull it together and get out there.  It was your job.  

              Your feet moved faster than your brain, and you bumped into the door and fumbled with the latch and handle before winging the door open and racing out to see what was wrong.  Everybody was gathered at the front of the plane, hoarding together with faces full of terror, while two men stood before them with their backs to you, and guns pointed at the civilians.  Your blood ran ice cold, your adrenaline started pumping through your veins, your own heart pounded in your ears so loudly that it made your head ache worse.  The plane was being hijacked.  

“Freeze!” you found your voice, and the two casually dressed men turned to you, “US Air Marshal…!” you went to give them a warning as you reached for your gun that was hidden in your side pocket.  It was second nature, your body moved from muscle memory, you had done this before, you were well trained.  Only the gun was missing from your pocket.  More iciness coursed through you once you realized that you were without a weapon, or your badge.  What had happened?  You were always so careful.  And then, that stranger sitting next to you casually got to his feet and stood in the aisle, turning to face you, with a small smirk on his lips.

“Looking for this?” his voice was so calm and his whole demeanor was relaxed. He held out his hand, teasing you with your gun hanging from his index finger.  You choked.  The crowd of innocent people drew quiet, you could have heard a pin drop, but you wouldn’t have been able to hear it over the pounding in your ears.  And you were suddenly very aware of the bead of sweat dancing down the right side of your face.  The stranger strolled towards you as he pocketed your gun, and used his other hand to hold up your missing badge.  “I’m guessing you’re missing this too.”

You instinctively held out your hand, telling him to stop in his tracks. “Don’t come any closer!” you warned, as if you had any authority left in the situation.  This man had your gun, your badge, and beyond that, you were a discombobulated mess and he towered over you.  But you still had your training.  You could take him, if the room would stop spinning and you could throw a punch in the right direction.  

“It was obvious you’re an air marshal.” The man stated as he looked at your badge before tossing it onto a random seat.  “Unfortunately for these folks, you’re not a very good one.”

“You want us to take her out?” one of the men holding a gun turned and pointed his gun at you.  You froze.

“No, I’ve got her.  Besides, those drinks should start really kicking in any second now.”

“What?” you squeaked out, but then you lost your voice.  Your mouth went dry, and the room started going dark. Against your will you fell to your knees, your legs were shaking and too weak to keep you up.  Your arms felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each.  

“You know what they say, keep an eye on your drink around strangers.” The stranger was now standing in front of you, and you tipped your head back to try and look at him, but your vision was now reduced to a pinhole.  “A US air marshal really shouldn’t be drinking on the job anyway.” He spoke so coyly.  The next thing you knew, you fell forward and your face hit the floor. Your vision went black, but you could still make out the sounds and voices around you.  

“Alright, get the pilot to turn the flight around, cut off all communications. Collect cell phones, laptops or any other forms of technology.” The stranger’s voice commanded everyone.  The plane made a sudden turn, causing everyone to start yelling again.  Your body slumped over onto its side as the plane turned and you couldn’t do anything but hear the commotion.  All of those innocent people were completely helpless.  You were completely helpless.  “All that alcohol only made the affects of the drug even worse.” The stranger’s voice was now closer to you.  You body was suddenly jostled and you felt your hands being bound together behind your back, and all you could do was groan in protest.  Nothing could move, not a finger, not even a toe.  You were rolled onto your back, pinning your bound hands against the floor, and momentarily you found your vision again. The strangers face appeared over you, looking down at you with a smug grin.  

“Stop…” you tried to speak again, but it only came out as a whisper.  He chuckled and removed his hat, releasing golden blond hair for you to try and take in.  And when the glasses came off, you remembered where you had seen his face before.  “Captain Rogers?” you couldn’t be sure.  It made no sense, it couldn’t be.  But before you could try to wrap your brain around it, everything went dark and silent. Your body fell into stillness and darkness, and then there was nothing.

[lilacmoon83]

Lightning in a Bottle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 8: Born to Be Yours

As Emma walked away to take a call, Margaret saw Regina coming out of the treatment room and she smiled.

"Hey...is everything okay?" she asked. Regina smiled.

"Yes...the treatment is continuing to go very well. Just a slow process," Regina mentioned, as she sat down.

"I want to thank you again...for insisting that Henry be admitted to this program," Margaret said, with tears in her eyes.

"I'm just glad it's working and that I could help," Regina replied.

"Your husband couldn't make it?" she asked curiously.

"Oh, he was on his way, but another passenger needed help finding a family member and David stepped in to see if he could help," Margaret replied.

"That's generous of him," she mentioned. Margaret smiled.

"That's my David...always my hero," she said fondly.

"So...I was a bit surprised to see you last night at the hanger," she mentioned quietly.

"Mmm...because I wasn't on the plane," Margaret said.

"Yeah...why were you?" Regina asked curiously.

"David had a feeling and whatever is responsible for these feelings might be what brought him back to me. If listening to this voice is what we need to do in exchange for our second chance...then we've decided that's what we'll do," Margaret replied.

"Wow...I think it's safe to say no other spouse is as understanding as you, let alone willing to go all in with this craziness," Regina mentioned. She shrugged.

"David is the love of my life...I'd do anything for him and he for me," Margaret replied.

"High School sweethearts?" Regina asked. Margaret beamed a smile.

"Yes...but we met when we were eight, actually," she replied. Regina's eyes widened.

"Wow...that's incredible," she said.

"What about you? Is there someone special you came back to?" Margaret asked.

"No...there was at one time. My own High School sweetheart, but he died just before we graduated," Regina replied. Margaret frowned.

"Oh...I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to dredge up sad memories for you," she apologized.

"No...it's okay. It was a long time ago and it helps to talk about it now," Regina said.

"We were nineteen and my mother disapproved, because Daniel wasn't from an affluent family. But I didn't care and we were on our way home from a date one night. We used to go horseback riding all the time," she said with a sad fondness.

"What happened?" Margaret asked. Regina swallowed thickly.

"A car came around the corner and swerved into our lane and struck us. We crashed into a tree. I had a broken leg and a concussion...but Daniel died on impact. They think the driver was drunk, but they never caught him," she replied.

"Oh Regina...I'm so sorry," Margaret said. She nodded.

"My mother acted like nothing happened and that it was even a good thing. Believe it or not, the night after he died, she tried to fix me up with some prince of Wall Street," she complained.

"That's horrible…" Margaret said.

"Yeah...so I really showed her when I got accepted to medical school. She was furious and I had eight years of bliss away from her. I visited Daddy as often as I could though. He always supported me," she replied. Margaret smiled.

"That's wonderful...I guess I kind of know what it's like to have a parent that doesn't approve of your choices," she said.

"Really?" Regina asked curiously.

"Mmm...my father is a very high end Wall Street broker and was never around much. Which was okay, because I was very close to my mother. She died when I was ten though," Margaret explained.

"That's terrible," Regina said.

"It was, but David and Emma were my best friends by then and they really helped me through. I started spending most of my time at their house, rather than go home to a big empty house. The staff was there to help me when I was there, but David's mother was always so warm and I kind of became her daughter too. Then we lost her when we were only twelve," Margaret replied.

"How awful…" Regina said.

"It was...it hit David really hard. He still tells me to this day that he doesn't know how he would have gotten through it without me. His father...he fell off the wagon hard and he pretty much stepped up to raise Emma. We both did," Margaret said.

"Wow...so you've really been through everything," Regina replied. She nodded.

"We used to get so many lectures about being as close as we were, but we knew we were in love by the time we were in eighth grade. They never stopped us...not even my father, though he tried," Margaret said.

"Ah...suddenly he took interest in your life," Regina said knowingly.

"Yes...he had plans to ship me off to an all girl's boarding school on the west coast to separate me from David. I thought my life was over," Margaret replied.

"What happened?" Regina asked.

"Well, Ruth knew of her husband's former drinking problem, so her life insurance was left in a trust to David and Emma. Ruth planned for everything in case something happened to her. We never met the financial adviser she hired, but this man always sent a man named Jefferson to oversee those kinds of things for David and Emma," Margaret explained.

"That's why they never lost the house and always had food, because Robert couldn't touch the money. But one day Jefferson came as he always did once a month. He made sure the mortgage was paid and groceries were stocked. But on this visit, he had something else," she said.

"Well...don't keep me in suspense," Regina urged.

"Emancipation papers for me," she revealed.

"I didn't even know you could do that, but he pushed it through and severed my father's parental rights. He didn't fight it, because he knew they could get him on neglect. He told me that if I continued to see David that he would take me out of his will and revoke my inheritance. I told him I would choose love with David a million times over his dirty Wall Street money," Margaret said. Regina smiled.

"Good for you...I would have loved to get emancipated from my mother. Fortunately, Daddy has always been in my corner," she mentioned.

"Robert wasn't there for David and Emma growing up, but he finally got clean after we graduated. And he really came through for me when the plane disappeared. He didn't touch a drop and helped me take care of the house, the bills, and Olive when I was just a complete mess," she said.

"Of course you were...sounds like you lost the love of your life," Regina said. She nodded.

"I did...and then by some miracle I got him back and our son. I'm sorry you didn't get your love back," Margaret replied. Regina smiled.

"Thanks...and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you don't lose your son again," she said, as they looked through the glass at him. He smiled and waved at them both.

"He's a very special little boy," Regina mentioned wistfully.

"He is," Margaret agreed.

~*~

There was a buzz, as the doors were unlocked and August was led into the visitation box. He had a black eye and a contusion on his forehead. Riker's had a reputation of being a very rough place and it seemed that it was living up to that reputation in August's case.

"So it's true…" August said, as he looked at his father with wide eyes through the glass.

"It is...my boy," Marco said tearfully, as he put his hand to the glass.

"Who is this?" August asked.

"He is a friend, who helped me get into see you. He was on the plane too," Marco explained.

"I tried to do what you told me, before you left. I tried to be a good boy...work hard, be honest...and I did. But here I am anyway," August said.

"They said you used a fake ID," Marco said, trying to understand.

"I had to...after you disappeared, they tried to put me in foster care. But it was horrible and I hit the streets on my own. I bought a fake ID a couple years back so I could get work and it wouldn't flag me as a runaway in the system," he replied.

"Papa...I didn't do this," he pleaded.

"I...I know you didn't, my boy," Marco said, as the guards arrived to take him away.

"Wait…" Marco pleaded.

"Please...can you just give them a couple more minutes?" David asked. But the guards refused and took August back to his cell, while Marco cried.

"My boy…" he sobbed.

"He is innocent! I don't care what evidence they have! My boy is innocent!" he cried.

"And I'm going to do everything I can to help you prove it," David promised.

~*~

Mr. Gold stared at the board in front of him with the twenty passenger photos of those that had shown up at the hanger the night before. Two hundred and twenty people on that plane and they had just disappeared, only to reappear five and a half years later. It was impossible. Unprecedented. And some would say threatening and cause for alarm. If these people did not die in a plane that was presumed to crash, but never did, where did they go? Many theories had been thrown out there. Wormholes. Time travel. Even extraterrestrials. Many in the government were questioning if these were even the same people that came back. He was almost certain they were the people they said they were, but they were definitely different.

He had been fascinated by disappearances much of his life. Everyone he had ever cared about had disappeared from his life. His mother disappeared from his life at a very young age, leaving him with a drunken, abusive father. Then, perhaps as a blessing, his father disappeared when he was eight. That one wasn't much of a mystery. He was probably dead in a ditch somewhere. But he had searched for them both and never turned up any results. No trace of them and no death certificate for either. It was much the same for the woman who fathered his son. A one night dalliance and then nine months later, a baby on his doorstep with a note. She claimed she was sick and couldn't care for him. She named him Neal and needed him to take care of him. And he had, with great joy, in fact.

Things got tough between them in Neal's teen years. He was obsessed with his work and the fringe nature of it. Neal fell in with the wrong crowd, but it was his mistake of taking a trip to Egypt on an exhibition in search of answers to his questions that pushed Neal over the edge. He got into drugs and refused rehab. He felt abandoned and things were irrevocably strained between them, even into his adulthood. Neal hit rock bottom and was finally getting clean, until the worst happened.

He had gone on a hike to get a clear head as part of his program and was prepared to make amends as the next part. But his son disappeared up on that mountain, a year ago. There had been a horrific snowstorm on the mountain that night and he disappeared. His body was never recovered and he became yet another person in Gold's life that had disappeared. But for the first time, they disappeared and reappeared in the form of a plane full of people that should be dead. And it gave him hope that, perhaps death, wasn't as permanent as they thought.

~*~

"David…" Emma said in exasperation. Margaret smiled in amusement, as she stirred the sauce, while her husband strained the pasta. Emma sat on the counter, eating a meatball she had stolen, while the kids were setting the table.

"Emma...I know it's asking a lot, but can't you just take a look and see if they missed anything?" David asked.

"What...so this is the cops fault?" she asked defensively.

"No...but I have a feeling. This kid isn't guilty," she replied.

"Since when do you get feelings about people? I'm the lie detector in the family...not you," Emma reminded him.

"You know since when," he reminded her in return and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine...I'll look at it. Now, can we eat?" she asked, as they put the food on the table and all sat down.

"So…I was thinking maybe we could do an ice cream run after dinner. You up for it?" he asked Olive. Guilt was still eating at her and he could tell, so he put his hand on hers.

"Olive...your mom told me about Lance and it's okay if you still want to spend time with him. You don't have to feel guilty about it," he assured.

"Really?" she asked. He smiled at her.

"Really," he assured.

"Well...he did give me the key to his storage locker so I could get the stuff I need for the climb coming up. Do you think you could help me?" she asked. David grinned.

"Sure…we can go after dinner," he promised. Margaret smiled at them both, overjoyed that the gap between them was closing.

"Mom...while they're doing that, can we put my new Lego set together?" Henry asked.

"Sure sweetie...and then when Dad and Ollie get back with ice cream, maybe we can catch the three of you up one of the super hero movies you missed," she suggested.

"I'm all about that," Emma agreed, as they enjoyed dinner together as a family; something they would never take for granted again.

~*~

After they cleaned up dinner, Emma made the run to the station to get the file that David wanted and she sat down at her desk to go over it.

"I thought you went home," Killian mentioned, as he peered over her.

"Uh…I did. Just doing a favor for someone," she said vaguely.

"Listen Emma…" he started to say. She sighed and looked at him.

"Milah told me what she did and I just want to apologize. Coming in here like she did...she shouldn't have done that," he said.

"Can't say that I blame her. She loves you and is worried now that your supposed to be dead past is suddenly back," Emma replied.

"Still…" he admonished.

"It's fine Killian. She has nothing to worry about," she replied. He looked like he wanted to say more, but decided against it and left her to it. Emma continued to look over the file and everything seemed in order. She closed the file and texted her brother that she had no luck on this front. It was looking more likely that the kid he wanted so badly to be innocent wasn't. She knew it would be hard for him to accept and even harder for Marco, but she wasn't seeing any unexplored angles with this one. With that done, she headed back home.

~*~

David parked the car at the storage facility and they got out of the car.

"So...big climb in a few weeks?" he asked, trying to make conversation.

"Uh yeah...at first I wasn't into it, but then it became a good distraction," she replied.

"That's good…" he said, as he looked around, trying to get a sense of the man that Olive now saw like an older brother or father-type figure. He wasn't going to lie. It was a blessing in disguise that his wife hadn't moved on, though he would have wanted her to if he really was gone. But he was grateful for their unique relationship. They had been a part of each other's lives since they were eight years old and it wasn't something you just got over. He knew if the situation was reversed that he wouldn't have really been able to move on either. Margaret and his children were his entire reason for living. As he was about to help Olive with the things she needed, he heard the music again. But it was sharper this time and louder. He put his hands to his ears, as it repeated in his head again.

"Dad?" Olive asked, as he felt the need to follow it.

"Stay here," he told her, as he went down the hallway. As he walked, the music kept getting louder until it was almost earsplitting. He turned the corner, winding through the maze of lockers until he finally ran into an open locker. Inside, he spotted Blake, the jewelry shop owner's son. They stared at each other, as the music in David's head stopped and he spied all the stolen jewelry in the locker. The stolen jewelry that had sent August, an innocent young man, to prison.

"I...I can explain," Blake said, as he stood up and then tried to run.

"You mean how you stole from your own father?" David asked in abject horror.

"Look...this doesn't have to be like this. I'll give you half if you just walk away now," Blake offered. But a well placed punch in the face from David sent him collapsing to the ground. David took out his phone and called his sister.

~*~

Emma arrived with backup shortly and Blake was arrested. One of the officer's took David's statement and then finally let them go home. Margaret was waiting for them anxiously and threw her arms around them when they got inside.

"Emma said you caught the guy that really stole the jewelry?" she asked. He sighed.

"Yeah...it was that music I kept hearing. I started hearing it when we were at the storage unit and it led me to him," he explained. She smiled and kissed him soundly.

"And now an innocent man is going to go free, because of your help," she said proudly.

"Yeah...it was pretty cool. Dad totally punched that creep out," Olive mentioned and they enjoyed the way he got shy for a moment.

"An innocent man's life was on the line so I wasn't going to let him get away," he said.

"You're a hero...but then you've always been my hero…" Margaret said, as they shared another tender kiss.

"Ugh...I'm going to bed so I don't have to watch you two make out," Olive complained, but turned back to them briefly.

"But you still owe me ice cream, Dad. And I expect a triple scoop," she said. He grinned.

"Tomorrow night for sure, peanut," he promised, practically bursting inside that she actually wanted to do something with him now. Margaret smiled at him too, very happy that the gap between them was closing.

"Is Henry asleep?" he asked.

"He is...he tried to stay awake long enough, but I told him you were helping a passenger. He was pretty excited so he'll want to hear all about it in the morning," she replied.

"Well...then I guess it's just you and me," he mentioned in a sultry tone. She grinned and turned to switch the television off, which was on mute, but that's when they saw a passenger on the screen. Out of curiosity, Margaret un-muted it.

"The government is treating us like we're criminals. But we're the victims in all this. Everyone thinks we know what happened, but we don't," the woman said, with a headline beneath her stating "passenger of flight 828 speaks out". David sighed.

"Great...talking to the press. That will make things better," he complained. She leaned her head against his chest and he shut the television off.

"Do you think she's going to make things worse?" Margaret asked.

"Probably...but I'm not going to worry about that tonight," he replied, as he kissed her tenderly.

"Right now...you are the only thing I want to think about," he said and she swooned, as he swept her into his arms and carried her off to their bedroom.

On the other side of the city, Tisbe Taylor walked into her home that evening and turned on the television in time to see her interview airing. She knew the government wouldn't be happy about her talking to the press, so that's exactly why she had done it. It was expressly against the NSA's media blackout order, but she was never one to keep quiet. She sat down in her chair and failed to see the shadow behind her. The unknown person put a gun with a silencer to the back of her head and fired. Blood and brain matter spattered on the television and everything within a close radius, as the shadow retreated...

[healedserpent]

After the trial, you feel a spike in your strength. whereas you might have doubted it before, now it's clearer that the blood of immortals courses through your veins. you're quicker and stronger than you've ever felt before. one night, you fall asleep and "awake" in a dream. something about it is familiar, like you've been there, or maybe you've seen it from somewhere. describe where you are.

Julian rises in his dream, but things are different after the trial. Doubt in his abilities have weakened, replaced by a confidence forged by his allies. He's back in Chicago, but not where he works: he's at the scene of the accident that claims his aunt hours later. He watches steam roll off the van that t-boned his range rover. The night shelters the color of blood on the upholstery and dashboard, while blue and red lights flash in the distance, drawing near like thunder in a storm.

The scene is grim, bringing back pained memories that has left a mark on you like the scars of battles you already have endured. But even in this moment, under the dark sky and bright lights of the ambulances, you notice an ambiguous presence amongst the accident. What does the shape look like? is it a man? a woman? a creature? describe its features.

Julian doesn't know what to make of it. He sees his aunt in the car, unconscious from the force that hit her side and reduced the passenger side to a range of metallic mountains and ridges. He squints, stepping forward and over the shards of glass, plastic, and metal that strew the aged asphalt. Scales glimmer and shine under reds and blues while a slitted gaze meets him. It's a snake, something unnatural on the roads of Chicago. "There's never snakes. There never was one, that day," he mutters with a scowl.

With ease, the incorporeal form shifts into a snake. For a moment it seems like it was taking the terrible sight in as well but soon enough, it's attention goes back to the doctor, sizing him up before it started to make their way to him. Does he recognize the type of snake it was? Did it appear to be large or something sleek?

Julian finds himself stepping forward, not away, as the form slithers along the accident-laden ground, going over plastic and metal and oil alike as if it's nothing. While the ambulance and police lights shutter over its scales, he can discern with enough knowledge that it's a snake he's seen from his research at camp: rat snake. While they're normally a foot or two long, this one seems larger. Heavier, as though it's grown from age, perhaps Julian's height if he dares to lift it.

It's scales shined deceivingly beautiful under the different sources of light, almost as if they truly weren't black without all of it. The snake slithered across the wreckage, meeting the demigod halfway until they were at Julian's feet. It might have been unbelievable, but it seemed like it wanted to talk to you, but the voice was ever-changing. When you concentrate, what does the snake sound like to you?

He stops in place, headlights searing into the back of his head and form, casting a large, imposing silhouette over the wreckage. Julian's blue eyes gain a cerulean shine under the headlights, squinting as voices of a myriad of accents and age greets his ears. Young and old, rugged and smooth, its a cacophony of noise that slowly deduces to a low, smooth tone. The snake resembles one of his leads in residency, the very man that introduces him to surgery and became his mentor. Smooth, patient, and sporting a Germanic accent.

"My, my, my... Julian you have grown so much," the snake finally said out loud to the demigod. Despite not showing any expressions on its face, the voice was familiar and smooth, as if it was happy to see the man. "Not where I expected to see you again. Actually, why this place, Julian?"

His heart leaps from his chest, coating the back of his throat in a metallic taste. He swallows and adjusts himself, ever curious on the voice and the surgeon that it belongs to. "It's been a while, Erik," he says as a soft laugh weaves his words. He gestures around, "Here? The accident that claimed my aunt's life and almost mine, too," he explains. He tries to be casual, but the memory of her death gives his words a crisp nature, as though he wants to move on from the pain. "I didn't realize how fragile life could be until this moment. Maria didn't deserve to go," he murmurs the last part.

It notices the struggle in Julian's infliction of his words, slowly hissing at him as if it was its attempt to soothe the man. "Life is a delicate thing. It comes and go. Can be taken or saved," the snake said in the familiar German accent that Julian knew. "What do you think best describes you, Julian? Do you see yourself being that breath of life or the one who ends their agony? Or perhaps... something in between?"

Julian pauses, there. He lowers his head under the warm light. Sweat forms at his brow and his hands, bloodied and cut, flex at his sides. "That it can be," he affirms. Memories of his first quest, memories of his past patients flood his mind. All the ones that he's save and all the ones he's lost. Life and death, a fine line in medicine. He swallows at the memory of Keaton, Jared, and himself almost dying in the span of months. All on his dime, the healer. But he's saved them--he's saved himself and brought them back. "In between," he announces, looking to the snake, "I am the mediator. Medicine is used to heal, whether that be through prolonging a life or giving it a peaceful end."

"Well, the world does need balance. Life and death seem to be that, but it's intriguing to hear how described it, almost as if death is just as much as a favor as life," the snaked hummed. As he finished his sentence Julian notices men taking her corpse and putting it in a body bag. They ask you if you would want to go back to the hospital with them. Do you?

Julian finds tears forming unbeknownst to him, little creeks glistening down his cheeks as Maria's carted off five feet away. "People think death is a horrible end, but for some, it's a wonderful beginning," he phrases, meeting the snake's slitted, knowing gaze. He looks to the paramedics and then the snake. It's a dream, yet he has a responsibility to his family that can't be ignored. "I need to go with her. Be with her," he tells the snake. "She may be dead, but she can't be alone."

Julian and the Snake are ushered into the ambulance, and the ride is eerily quiet, almost as if the paramedics forgot he was there. "Your father would be so proud, Julian. You truly are following his steps and coming into your own," The snake assured the demigod as they began to arrive to the hospital. But as they were entering the waiting room, they were stopped from going into the morgue. When he looked around, he sees three men--no, three demigods in stretchers, in different, terrible conditions. "Seems to be your comrades, who are they and what happened to them?"

Julian smiles faintly but it doesn't meet his eyes. He bows his head as lights fly by the windows and the ambulance is driven to the hospital's other half: morgue. "You know about him?" he muses, looking over at the snake, "you aren't Erik, not exactly, are you?" he asks, not in hostility but much rather curiosity. 

His attention shifts to the bodies and his heart stops. Julian looks at the group, the first one Keaton, laid back on the stretcher in blood and sweat, with a convulsing fit here and there that spills blood from his mouth and onto the man's clothes, much like the night in Alexandria warrants. The one beside him is Jared, the fair-haired and kind man that suffers deep wounds and bleeding from Astraea's blades, while little sparks of red electricity shock at his poor muscles. The last...the last one is Remy. Unconscious and suffering a deep blow to the stomach, with leaves and branches pressed or embedded in his flesh from Demeter's trial. 

He retains his composure at the cost of his heart and lungs. "Keaton, Jared, and Remy. They are the demigods that almost lost their lives on my watch. Keaton nearly drowned in blood, Jared almost taken down by the demigoddess Astraea's blade, and Remy from a corrupt guardian. Remy's the only one I wasn't able to save at my own hand; another demigod sacrificed themself in his stead."

"No..." The Snake responds. "But I am here to help you on your journey and this seems to be what will make the transition to godhood easier for you, which... seems to be much rougher than you anticipated." The snake looks over to the three men, barely older enough to not be considered boys anymore. Their surroundings seem to fade away, the people occupying the space around them disappearing before all there was just the three demigods and him. "What do you feel, Julian? Do you feel the need to help them or seek revenge? What will you do?"

Julian gives a feeble chuckle, running his hand through his hair, "You can say that. I'm used to the stress from the hospital, but this? Monsters, gods, and all that? It's hard to describe," he admits. He watches as surroundings give way, leaving him with the evidence of his falters. The proof of his mistakes. Anger rises in his heart but it isn't at the culprits of their injuries, but at himself. He feels that it's his fault they're like this, whether from a lack of promptness on his part or inexperience in the realm of demigods. 

In the end, his anger shifts to concern, and from there: drive. "I feel the need to help them," he says, "I am the one that contributed to their injuries. I have to help, I need to get them better and maintain their health." He walks over, putting his hand in Keatons' to give it a squeeze. Then he checks on Jared, sifting his fingers through his hair, and at last rubbed at Remy's arm gently. They deserved more. "I will be there for them. Use my abilities that I've been born with, and what I've learned in med school, to help and mend and support them. I cannot fight the fight like they do, but I can make sure they return to the battlefield stronger than before."

With the determination in his voice alone, it seems like the three of the fallen demigods have been healed, able to continue forth in their battle. "Thank you for showing me who you are. You have proved to have an amazing sense of self, it only makes me want to see you continue in your journey, and what you will become." The snake was unable to smile, but there was a warm aura emanating from him that came close to it. "There will be things putting your resolve to the test, but I will be here to help you. Are you ready?"

Julian almost steps back as the three demigods heal miraculously from their ailments. No longer on the brink of death, they're able to fight the good fight once more. Julian returns his gaze to the snake and his lips curled gently. He knows it isn't going to be easy, but that means the success is more rewarding. "I am. The camp needs a good healer to have their back. If I'm not ready to improve now, then when will I be?"

"I guess you're right, my boy," the snake muses. "But remember to take care of yourself, they may depend on you but you are worthy of help as well. Until next time, Julian. Make us proud."

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

DOTW 5 - giving Eren a friend!

"Leeeeevi! You'll never guess what happened last night!" Levi knew opening the door to Hanji was a terrible idea. Work hadn't been great. They'd attended a head on collision, where the male driver had died on impact. Doing everything they could for the female driver of the other car, she died on route to the hospital. Thankfully neither of them had passengers, but the female driver had been stinking drunk. Losing patients always hurt, but losing a patient to drink driving... it seemed so pointless. She could have just called a taxi. She could have slept it off. But instead, her carelessness had resulted in the death of man. Scrubbing his face tiredly, Levi wanderer back to his sofa where Titan climbed into his lap. The fat cat swatting at his hand as he picked up his long cold cup of tea "Levi?" "Rough day" "Right... I heard about that. Is there anything I can do?" "No..." Letting out a sigh, he continued his sentence "... you said something happened?" "Yeah, but it can wait" Dropping down into the sofa across to his, Hanji pulled her thick parka off "You came all this way. You might as well spit it out" "Weeell, of you insist. Eren was in the ER today" Levi growled. He was annoyed that she'd even go there, not when it was none of his business what the kid did "I know. But the kid... he interests me" "Why? Did he sprout a hundred shitty pickup lines?" "No. He was with his brother" Hanji's face darkened "What is it?" "Levi, I think Eren's being abused" "Abused?" A headache was already forming, and he didn't need this "His brother... there's just something unnatural about it" "Hanji, it's none of our business" "But he was scared Levi. Mike said he smelt sick and scared. Zeke was a total arsehole too. Demanded Eren be seen by another a doctor" "I'd demand another doctor if you were treating me" "I'm worried about him. His ankle was broken. It wasn't too terrible, and we only used a plaster cast. His brother didn't want anything fancy or complicated... it still looked horrible on his leg. His skin is like so soft... wait, I'm getting off topic. You didn't seeeeee him. He said he tripped when he got out of bed, but I don't believe it" "If he said he tripped, he probably did" "Don't you think..." "No. No, I don't. It's none of our business what he gets up to. We don't know him. He means nothing to either of us. Stop trying to make something out of nothing" "I'm worried about him. If his brother is treating him badly..." "Eren is big enough to take care of himself" "But Levi, I just... I don't want something happening to him, when we could have helped" Hurling his teacup across the room, Titan flew from his lap as Hanji flinched "It is none of our damn business, and I am sick of you constantly dragging me into your messes" "God forbid you actually let someone in and help you! I saw the connection you had with Eren! The way you looked at him! The way you touched him! You like him!" "So what if I do! He obviously doesn't like me! He doesn't even know me and if he did, he'd take off at the first chance he got!" "So what? You're not even going to try?!" "Of course I'm not going to try! He's a stranger Hanji. He has his own life! If he's sleeping with his brother, that's his business!" "The kids being abused! I know it! He had scars Levi. He had scars on his legs and when I asked, he got defensive. What kind of a reason does he have not to tell a doctor?!" "Everyone has things they want left in the past" "I'm worried for him... and I'm worried for you. I know you Levi. I know how hard the job is and I want you to be happy. That's all I want" "Then leave it alone Hanji. It's none of our business. He's not our friend. He was our patient. Was. We have no connection at all. So I don't understand why you can't just leave this in the past" "If I was to see him again, and he agreed to go on a date with you... would you agree?" "Because he's just going to go out with the first available alpha. Hanji, you need to come out of that deluded head of yours and see the real world" "My headspace is just fine, thank you. And you didn't answer the question" "No. Ok. No. I wouldn't go on a date with him. Working in a shitty place like that... who knows what he does" "Well he won't be working for the next 6 weeks, at any rate" "And how is that supposed to affect me? I don't care, so stop trying to force me to" He was so sick of seeing those green eyes. Eren's gentle face. His soft words. His pink lips and smooth skin "Fine. I only came by to tell you I'd seen him, and to check in with you. Seeing I've done both, I'll be leaving" After Hanji left, he felt like an arsehole. Alone with Titan, the fact cat was mad at him for shooting him away from the broken teacup so he wouldn't get shards of ceramic in his paws. He was just so sick of not knowing what Hanji expected him to do. He couldn't very well track down Eren. He may have slightly googled the kids name, only to find no results. He hated being so stuck on someone, and their 15 year age gap made him feel like a pedophile for even feeling the slightest something for the teen. Eren would be 20 soon... but 15 years was a lot. Just because his alpha fancied Eren, didn't make it mutual. Still... He couldn't get the thought of the kid being abused out of his head. His wide green eyes had been so bright. Far too bright for someone being abused or hiding a secret. The goddamn, shitty brat had gotten under his skin, and he hated it. His life had steadily gone down hill since that night Hanji had forced him through the strip clubs doors. Nothing seemed to hold his interests the way they used to. Work felt like he was just going through the motions, and every time someone called in over an omega, his mind leapt to the green eyes brat. Now that Hanji had mentioned her suspicions of abuse, how was he supposed to react to each call? How could she do this to him? He hated everything he was feeling as it was. He hated it and she knew it. She scratched and kept scratching. Forcing the barely scabbed over wound of their meeting to begin bleeding all over again. * Eren tried to dance, but with a cast on his moves felt stiff and wrong. His leg wouldn't move the way he wanted. He tried yoga to keep flexible, but being cage inside all day... it was stirring up memories and feelings he'd rather forget. His nightmares of the past left him shaking, or even worse, he'd wake up screaming. His depression and anxiety levels were off the charts. The slightest thing going wrong had him crying. He hated it. His favourite mug had fallen to the floor while unloading the dishwasher, and he'd sobbed. He'd howled as he picked up the pieces, until Zeke took them from his hands. The days rolled slowly into weeks. Zeke was at work for most of it. His body felt weak from his body hovering in a state of near heat. He'd cleaned and cleaned, his hands cracked and pealing from the harsh soaps against his skin. It was crazy how much he missed the club. How he missed the way his body moved to the music. How he could escape from reality, even if it meant being watched by alphas like he was bitch in heat. The power he had to reduce them to their base desires and shatter the masks they wore during their every day life. It was intoxicating and nauseating. He hated it. Yet he wanted it He wanted to be free. It was about four weeks after his accident that his brother sat him down. Picking at the sleeves of his hoodie, he tried to make himself as small as possible. His brother didn't look happy, and he didn't want to say the wrong thing. Taking his hands in his, Zeke leant in, kissing his forehead "Eren, we need to talk" A lump formed in his throat "Y-yes?" "I had a phone call from the club earlier today. They've let you go" The words hit him blankly, taking a few moments to sink in "They fired me?" "They couldn't hold your position any longer. Not while you can't dance" "But..." "Eren, you know I need you to pay your rent" "How can I do that? If I can't dance..." "I have a friend from work. He's recently found his omega partner is infertile and is looking for a second..." Eren gasped. How would the omega feel about a second? Let alone a second who feared alphas and was as useless as he was "You want to sell me?" "Not sell you. Can't you see, you need to pay your own way" "Maybe if I talk to the club..." "They won't take you back if you can't dance" "Then... I'll do something else" "Eren, you have no skills. I don't want to kick you out. But you haven't paid me any rent for the last four weeks. You haven't contributed towards any of the food" "Please. Please let me call the club" "Eren..." "Zeke, I can't do anything! I only know how to do what I'm told. Please let me dance..." "You can't with a cast on" "Then... then I'll go see the doctor. I'll get it off. My ankle feels fine" "Eren..." "No. I need to contribute! I need to be useful to you. I can't be here if I'm not" "I'll let you think about it, but you know I have to do what I have to do" "Yes, Zeke" "Good boy" "Why don't you go back to your room and think. We can talk about it after you have" Retreating to his room, Eren grabbed his phone. He hated calling his boss at the best of times, but he really needed his job. His heart was in his throat as his boss answered, Eren glad the man couldn't see his scrunched up face, or the tears in his eyes as he all but begged for his job back. Lying smoothly, he said his cast had already come off, and that he was ready to get back to work. Of course, his boss didn't make it easy. He could come back, but his pay would be docked by nearly a third, and he wasn't to cause anymore trouble. He was an omega and he needed to remember his place, because, he should be grateful to have a job at all. Ending the call, he threw his phone on his bed. He had his job back... but how the fuck was he supposed to get his cast off? He had no idea what the thing was even made of... he wasn't supposed to get it wet... maybe if he soaked it? Getting it wet was supposed to be bad... And then he could cut it once it was softer? Hobbling from his room and into the kitchen, he rifled through the top draw until he finally found the large breadknife he was looking for. It had teeth like a saw... and they sawed casts off... didn't they? Zeke must have been in his room, as he wasn't there to witness him make yet another stupid decision... which was definitely for the best. Armed with the breadknife and a plastic bag, he made his way into the bathroom. Soaking the cast, it seemed to take forever for the white monstrosity to finally begin to come apart enough for him to get the bread knife in. It took forever, all over again, before he finally got it broken enough for the stupid thing to give under his insistent fingers. He could have moaned in relief, if moving it hadn't hurt. Scrubbing the pealing skin, Eren hissed and winced at the touches. Wearing heals or even flats were going to hurt like a bitch, and he had noooo idea how he was going to work the pole... he'd have to look extra nice as well. If he didn't, his boss wouldn't let him on the stage. Cleaning the plaster and cast fragments from the bottom of the bath, he had to rinse it twice to get everything out. Once he was certain all he could collect was tied up in the plastic bag, he started getting ready for work. Scrubbing himself clean with vanilla scented soap, he washed and blow dried his hair, ratting it up into messy bun with three horizontal braids on the left side of his head near his temple. Painting his lips gold, his eyeshadow was a deep green to enhance his eyes, while his eyeliner and mascara were both gold. A pair of teal and gold war stripe on each cheek completed the look. He'd have to swallow down every ounce of pride he faked having. He didn't want to look like a girl, but the customers loved it. It all added to the fantasy that omegas were loveable and could be forced to do anything. His outfit was plain black jeans and a zip up hoodie. He'd change once he got to work. When Eren walked out the bathroom, Zeke wasn't home. He messaged his brother to tell him they wanted him to come into the club to talk about his job in person. His ankle was already protesting him moving around so much, he couldn't risk strapping it. He couldn't go onto the stage with it strapped, and then there was the risk of leaving tape residue behind... which was hardly sexy. By the time Eren reached the club, his ankle felt like it was on fire. A fine layer of sweat had his hoodie clinging to his back, while sweat beads rolled down his arse from his back. Taking the cast off had been a horrible idea. One he severely regretted, even if it had been a necessity. Zeke told him to think about it, and he had. He had to be useful. He had to push down his pain. He'd done this to himself, and had no right to complain. Letting himself into the club through the staff entrance, he gave a few small waves as he tried not to limp. Knocking softly on his bosses door, he waited to be called in. He hated the man's office. He hated the tacky shades of red and black. It was supposed to look sexy and erotic, but he'd seen more appealing things stuck to the bottom of his shoes. Reiss was a creep. The man treated all omegas like shit, even the male omega he kept "chained" in his office with him "Eren. I see you're back on your feet" "Yes, sir" "From my conversations with your brother, I was under the impression you wouldn't be returning" "Zeke was just worrying. He knows my health better than I do, but my cast is gone now" Reiss leant forward in his chair, interlacing his fingers as he dug his elbows into the leather part of his desk "You know Eren, its omegas like you that cause all the problems in life. If all omegas just listened to what they were told, we wouldn't have so much trouble with our customers. You are the single most troublesome omega here, but I can't deny you do get the alphas hot and heavy. The more worked up, the more they drink. If your body wasn't so appealing to them, I wouldn't have let you back through the doors. Am I making myself understood?" "You want me to keep my mouth shut and dance" "Exactly. You'll be on a probation trial for now, dancing with a new omega we've hired" He hated dancing with other omegas. They were supposed to touch and kiss... all but fuck right there in front of everyone. It wasn't so much dancing as soft porn "Yes, sir" "If I have even a single complaint about you, you're gone. And don't you dare think of sending that thug brother of yours here to cause trouble. I have enough worries without having an angry alpha taking his frustrations out on me because he's screwing his brother" Eeeew... he didn't need those mental images. Nope. He knew it seemed that way to a lot of people, but Zeke didn't touch him like that. He kept him close to keep him safe, reassuring him because he was so useless. He didn't touch him down there unless it was to clean him up during his heat "I understand" "Good. Now go. I don't need you in here stinking up the place" He hated this. He hated being treated like he wasn't anything. He just wanted to dance, and Reiss was the only way that was happening. He wasn't even the boss of the club, just the manager of the dancers. Wincing with every step, Eren made his way into the dressing room they had to share. Making his way to what he'd deemed his usual seat, he dropped down with a long groan "Are you alright?" Jumping back up, he eyed the freckled faced stranger in fear "Sorry! Sorry, I'm new here. I'm Marco. I didn't mean to scare you, you just looked pained" Letting out a small laugh of relief, Eren sank back down "I'm fine. You just scared the fuck out of me" "Sorry..." Eren waved his hand, turning to look at himself in the mirror. He didn't look great, but his makeup was still perfect, so that was a win "It's fine. I'm Eren, I've been off for the last month" "Oh! You're that Eren" Raising eyebrow, he tore himself away from his reflection "That Eren?" Marco blushed "Sorry. I've just heard a lot about you" "That I'm a notorious trouble maker?" "That you're the best dancer here" "Oooh. Yeah. Maybe... I rolled my ankle so I've been out. It's not that interesting. How about you? How long have you been here?" "Um... since last week. My alpha and I are moved out here, but no one wants to hire an omega... this was the only place I could get a job" "You have an alpha?" "Yeah... do you?" "No. No, but I've got an over protective older brother who's an alpha" "Really?" "Is it that strange?" "You're just so pretty" Eren snorted, shaking his head as he looked back at himself "Thanks Marco. You're not so bad yourself. Did Reiss tell you what he wants us in today?" "No..." "Awesome. That means we can just make ourselves look good. Your freckles make you look innocent, so we'll go with something cute for you... how much experience do you have dancing?" Marco stuttered "N-not much..." The kid was some kind of freckled Jesus. Way too pure for this line of work. Sure there other dancers who could step in, but Marco looked so lost. He couldn't help but want to protect the omega, even though he'd just met him "Let me help you. Take a seat and I'll check out the wardrobe" "No offence, but you look you should be the one sitting" "Trust me, I've been through worse than a busted ankle... hmm... I didn't have much luck with the angel wings, but they'd look great on you. Marco the Angel..."

[theabominableblogger]

Rewatching “Batman Returns”

*zips up coat*  Welp, it’s snowy out.  It snows a lot in this movie.  Might as well watch it cause Netflix put all the other Burton-Schumacher movies up. 

*in best Han Solo voice*  I got a bad feeling about this....

[Mr. Cobblepot stands in front of the window as his wife is giving birth in another room] *in best Pee Wee Herman voice*  PEE WEE?!?  What are you doing here?!?

YOU LOCKED THE BABY [Oswald] IN A CAGE?!?

I feel like this movie gets even more Tim Burton-y as it goes on.

*jams along to the Batman theme*

Yeah no way.  That baby’s dead.  End of movie.

Stan Winston!

So... the Batman opens with the creation of the Penguin. 

*nods*

DC Comics *ding*

[Directed by Tim Burton] Yes, we know!

Matte painting!

“Man or Myth:  Or is he?”  Bum bum BUUUUUMMMMMM!!

Hey Alfred!

Is that Felix the Cat as the logo for Shreck?

Oh my Godddd, Christopher Walken....

“Frankly, I [Shreck] cringe, Mr. Mayor.”  It needs more cowbell!

You can tell they tried to make Michelle Pfeiffer really frumpy before she put on the Catsuit

The dude who plays Schreck’s son is trying his darn best to replicate Christopher Walken’s accent

“Remind me [Shreck] to take it out on what’s-her-name.”  You had her [Selina] as your secretary for God knows how long and you don’t know her name?

Ominous red lighting...

*The clown henchmen run out of the giant present*  I SAW DOUG JONES!

I totally forgot that @actordougjones was in this movie!  Holy crap!

Ohhhh that’s an awesome shot!

I wanna be that one random clown henchman just casually walking down the street on stilts and completely ignoring everything that’s going on.

“That was very brief.  Just like all the men in my life.”

Of course there’s a graveyard in this movie.

Wait, isn’t that one sculpture the one thing that pops up in Beetlejuice?

Gotta admit, the makeup on Danny Devito looks awesome

“You [Shreck] and I [Oswald] are similar.”  You both have hair.

“What, is that [umbrella] supposed to hypnotize me [Shreck]?”  I literally just had that same thought.

Wait so if Penguin doesn’t know his human name, how do his henchmen address him?  Do they just call him “Penguin-Man” all the time?

“Honey, I’m home!  Oh, I forgot- I’m not married.”  Gotta hammer it in that she’s single

I want that black cat like now

Why does Selina have a pair of tomatoes in the window?

WHY WOULD YOU GIVE YOUR CAT MILK?!?

Why would you [Selina] even open the protected files?

Worst.  Secretary.  Ever.

Green screen!

Yep, nope, she [Selina] dead.  There should a puddle of blood around her.

Here’s a fun fact:  cats will eat your dead body.  No joke.

Those tights are covered in runs.  Selina, were you even thinking while getting dressed this morning?

So is she [Shreck] just repeating the actions that she did before Shreck tried to kill her.

“... a candlelight staff meeting for two.”  Holy crap, how did I never catch that?

WHY ARE YOU SHREDDING THE STUFFED ANIMALS?!?  ESPECIALLY THE SOCK MONKEY?!?

Though in all seriousness, if she did shred them in the sink like this, she’d only get like half of one properly shredded.  Pretty sure sink shredders don’t work like that.

Where did the random black spray paint come from?

Is that wire?

“I don’t know about you, Ms. Kitty, but I feel so much yummier.”  Who wrote the script for this?

Hi Doug Jones!

So the Penguin is on this rising duck mechanism but then he’s able to pop fully out of the sewer in the sidewalk and step out?  Did his seat have a rising platform as well?

For a Batman movie, I’m 35 minutes in, and there hasn’t been a lot of Batman.

If Penguin doesn’t know his birth name, how the heck is he gonna find his parents in the public records?

Snowwww... all the snow...

I’m digging the top hat Penguin has

Are those black roses Penguin’s putting on his parents’ grave?  Of course they are.

“I was their number one son, and they treated me like number two...”  Oh my God...

So how is Selina able to beat up dudes when she even says that this is her first time doing that?

Can’t Bruce just sit next to Shreck or something so that he doesn’t have to toss the report across the table?

Freaking Bruce’s mouth stays open the entire time Selina is in the room.  Close it before a fly goes in!

So if Shreck were “the people’s man,” shouldn’t he have let Oswald finish eating the raw fish upstairs in his den before escorting him down to the surprise?

And why is Oswald’s hideout above a public workplace?

Why would you elect Oswald mayor anyway?  Why would Gotham ever think that this was a good idea in the first place?!?

“I’d like to fill her void.”  Noooooooooooooooo......

Did Shreck just reference the Reichstag fire?  Buddy, no.....

Doggie!

Gotham looks so much smaller than it did in the first movie

*Batman programs the Batarang to hit all four people*  Whaaaattt?

Most iconic shot of the whole movie.

Where’d she get the whip?

*Catwoman starts jump roping with the whip*  I mean... same though.

Wilhelm Scream!

He [Batman] just killed that dude!

Why does the store have a functioning microwave out in the first place?  At night time?

“Meow.”  Fun story:  so my dad and my sister I were watching this on FX and my dad refused to leave the hotel for supper until after this scene because he thought this part was hilarious.

It’s [the Penguin’s umbrella] actually a helicopter... 

*instant Star Wars Rebels flashbacks*

Matte painting!

Is that actually eyeshadow Michael Keaton’s wearing underneath the cowl?

*actually turns off the volume when Oswald flirts with one of the younger voters*

“Just the pussy I’ve been looking for.”  What was the age demographic for this movie again?

*Catwoman starts giving herself a bath*  Eewwwww....

I want Selina’s coat like now.

“Who are you [Oswald]?”  The dude’s running for mayor, and you don’t know him?

“Sickos don’t scare me.  At least they’re committed.”  “Well.. yeah...”  I mean...

“I will relay the message.”  Alfred is the best wingman imaginable.

Gotta get out the rubber cowl...

So how the heck was Penguin able to break into the Batmobile if he hadn’t even seen it before?

*The Ice Princess falls right on top of the fuse box*  Yeah, no, she’s dead.

*quotes the mistletoe quote*

[Catwoman literally licks Batman across the mouth]  *barely audible* Whyyyyy.....

“Let’s consummate this fiendish union.”  Nooooooo....

Now that I think about it, this movie is basically 70% one-liners and sexual innuendos

Oh, now the Batmobile detects a foreign object?

There’s a poster in the crowd that says “Oswald Means Order”

“Security?  Who let Vicki Vale into the Batcave?”  He’s [Bruce] got a point there, Alfred.

[Frequency Jammed]  Is it raspberry?

When the heck did Batman record Oswald during the Batmobile takeover?

OK guys, who brought the lettuce?  Is there always a random farmer’s market who always hangs out at important speeches for that reason only?

“Why is there always someone who brings eggs and tomatoes to a speech?!?”  Exactly!

“Did you miss me?”  Andrew Scott said it better.

“I am not a human being!  I am an animal!”  Why you gotta try and reference “The Elephant Man” like that?

Did I just hear the opening notes for “Can’t Touch This” by MC Hammer?

I like the dude in the background that has the the Leaning Tower of Pisa as part of his mask

Mask of the Red Death in the background!  And on a staircase nonetheless!

*sings* WHY SO SILENT, GOOD MONSIEURS....

I want Selina’s dress.  I don’t care that it’s probably gonna show off my scoliosis but that’s a super nice dress.

Batman even has his own customized stationary?

“Many of you won’t be coming back.”  Some of you may die, but it’s a sacrifice... I am willing to make!

*jams out to the Batman theme once again*

Fun fact:  they used actual penguins for this scene when they’re running around with firecrackers on their backs.  But not actual firecrackers because hello, what’s wrong with you?

“Estimated casualties 100,000 people.”  I think the most we’ve ever seen in this movie concerning the townspeople is like 50 or something.

Random question:  how come we never see Penguin actually swim?

*The duck boat thing drives up the stairs*  Would that even be possible?

Oh, so Batman comes out of the crash totally fine?  Dude, your cowl is freaking rubber!

*Penguins sets off the firecrackers attached to the penguins*  WHY?!?!?  YOU KNEW THAT THEY WERE STANDING LIKE TWENTY FEET AWAY FROM YOU!

*The Arctic World sign collapses*  No, not the polar bear!

*Bruce tears off the main part of his cowl* 

So how does the whole actual nine lives left?  Selina got shot in the shoulder and side, so those aren’t kill shots.  So technically, she still has four lives left instead of two.

*Bruce finds Shreck’s electrocuted corpse*  Wow, “Mars Attacks” looks horrible, you guys.

I’m pretty sure Oswald’s just spitting up green goo or something because that’s definitely not blood.

“I need a cold drink of ice water.”  Those are terrible dying words

Netflix just captioned the mourning penguin noises as “Awk Awk”

Aaawww the cat!

Why do you have the front passenger window open, Alfred?  Bruce is gonna be freezing sitting in the back.

*Catwoman looks up toward the Batsignal*  There ya go

[thatbloodycountess]

Loyalty: A Versus Story Ch 2.

Loyalty: Chapter 2

 I’ve been thinking about this story all day today and couldn’t wait to get home so I could write the next chapter.

  Muffled voices broke through the black, slowly bringing Celes back to the world. They sounded familiar but her throbbing skull prevented her from identifying them. She slowly opened her eyes but quickly shut them when faced with bright light. A soft groan escaped her lips as she made another attempt. Her vision was blurry at best and her head began to spin. She moved to sit up only to be ushered back down onto the soft surface underneath her back by callused hands.

 “Take it easy.”

 Something in her mind snapped as the voice filled her ears, the last moments she could recall flooding back. Prompto offered her a ride home, only he wouldn’t take her home. The last thing she remembered was him grabbing a fistful of her hair. She blinked through her blurred vision and made another attempt only to be pushed back once more. Prompto loomed over her, a relieved smile on his lips. But his eyes betrayed his smile. There was something in those blue orbs that sent chills up her spine.

 “I-I’m sorry for hurting you.” he explained. “I didn’t want us to get into an accident.”

 She said nothing.

 “Prompto, perhaps it would be wise for you to leave her be for now.” Ignis advised.

 The blonde did as recommended and backed off but took a seat in the arm chair next to the couch. Celes slowly sat up to find herself in a rather lavish space. The room was filled with ornate furniture in shades of black, grey, and white. A glass coffee table sat in front of the couch, a plush rug caressing her bare feet. Her stilettos sat neatly underneath the table. Heavy black drapes framed the large windows and crystal chandeliers dotted the ceiling.

 Noctis sat casually on an arm chair across the room from her, his left leg crossed over his right. Gladio was standing behind him with a stoic expression but his amber eyes were locked on her. Ignis stood quietly next to the shield, a file folder in one hand with the other in the pocket of his trousers. The prince wore a smirk on his lips, his eyes glowing with mischief. Celes smoothed her long black hair and straightened her clothing before rising to greet him properly.

 He raised his hand to stop her. “That isn’t necessary. Please, sit.”

 She did as he asked.

 “I hope you’ll accept my sincerest apologies for what transpired earlier. Prompto meant no harm.”

 “With all due respect Your Highness, if he truly meant no harm then he should’ve just driven me home.”

 “I’m afraid that wasn’t possible.” He gestured to Ignis, who handed him the folder. “You see, we’ve been observing you for quite some time.”

 “O-Observing?”

 “Yes.” He opened the folder and flipped through the contents. “We know who you are.”

 Her blood suddenly ran cold.

 “Celes Raye. Twenty years of age and born in Gralea to Thalia Raye, a Lucian born scientist who defected to Nifelheim and Imperial Chancellor Ardyn Izunia.”

 She remained silent.

 “You moved to Lestallum at fifteen and Insomnia a few months ago.” Noctis closed the folder and handed it back to Ignis. “Which is right around the time my father’s health started to rapidly decline.”

 Celes took great pains to conceal her identity. She wasn’t proud of her parentage, mostly because they were terrible people and didn’t seem to notice they even had a child. Her father was too busy using his MTs to conquer Lucian lands and her mother was always in her lab. She had been left to fend for herself for much of her life. Her mother’s death gave her the excuse to finally leave. No one ever pursued her, so she assumed no one cared. She was free.

 “Y-You think I’m a spy?” she asked.

 The prince’s eyes took on a menacing glint. “Are you?”

 Celes shook her head. “No! I don’t want anything to do with Nifelheim. You have to believe me.”

 “I don’t have to do anything.” he barked.

 Her eyes immediately went to the floor. He was right, he didn’t have to do anything. He was the future king of Lucis and according to the prince it appeared that future was fast approaching. She could understand how he could find her move to Insomnia suspicious, but the timing was purely coincidental. She left Gralea to distance herself from her horrible family and how they were coming back to haunt her.

 “Come on Noct. It’s obvious that she isn’t a spy.” Prompto interjected.

 She shifted her gaze to the blonde, almost ready to drop the whole kidnapping thing if he got her out of the situation she was currently in.

 Noctis regarded his friend with a glance before returning his gaze to the terrified woman. “The punishment for lying to a member of the royal family is quite severe. As is treason.”

 “Your Highness, I’m telling the truth. I’m not a spy.”

 He gestured for Ignis and Gladio to come closer. The three men whispered amongst themselves. Prompto flashed Celes a reassuring smile. The strategist and the shield stepped back after several moments. Noctis cleared his throat.

 “I’m inclined to believe you. On one condition.”

 “I’ll do anything.”

 “I want you to spy for me.”

 “Your Highness…”

 “I thought you said you’d do anything.” He leaned forward. “Are you going back on your word?”

 She shook her head.

 “Rumor has it that Nifelheim has planted their spies within the city. My father’s death is imminent, and it would be a perfect time to strike. You will report directly to Ignis.”

 Celes quietly nodded.

 “But know this. If you betray me, I will carry out your execution personally.” He leaned back in his chair. “Are you willing to prove your loyalty?”

 “Y-Yes Your Highness…”

 “Good. Now come here and kneel.”

 Celes slowly stood up and straightened her clothes. She crossed the room, leaving the plush carpet for the cold marble floor. Noctis watched quietly, his regal air coming off him in waves. She knelt down in front of him. The prince grabbed her chin and tilted her head up to look in her eyes. She was intimidated and scared of him. He loved seeing the fear in people’s eyes. Celes’ gaze reminded him of the one his maid gave him as he repeatedly plunged the knife into her flesh.

 “Prompto. Take her home.”

 He released Celes from his grasp. She rose to her feet and followed Prompto after grabbing her shoes. The blonde held her jacket out to her and she slipped her arms into the sleeves. He placed the garment over her shoulders and slowly ran his hands down her arms. The uneasy feeling she had only intensified at his touch. She followed him out of the room and took the elevator down to the basement parking garage. Prompto helped her into the passenger side before hopping into the driver’s seat. Neither spoke a word. Celes was still rattled by everything that happened. She went from being kidnapped to being recruited by Noctis Lucis Caelum to spy for him. Well, recruited wasn’t the right word. More like threatened.

 Prompto turned onto Celes’ street and pulled up along the curb. He didn’t require directions, which didn’t surprise her. If they had been observing her then it made sense for them to know where she lived. Celes grabbed her purse that was still on the floor of the car before stepping out. Prompto cut the engine and followed her up the front steps of the apartment building. It was an older building, which was standard considering the neighborhood. The pipes were unreliable at best and the place had a strange smell. Rumor had it an old lady died in one of the units and her body was discovered days later.

 The blonde rarely traveled to this part of town. The home he shared with his absentee parents was in a middle-class neighborhood. He followed Celes up the stairs to the fourth floor as the elevator was broken. Once they reached her apartment, she unlocked the door and flipped the lights on. She wasn’t expecting Prompto to follow her but said nothing considering the situation she found herself in.

 “So…how does this work?” she asked Prompto.

 “Ignis will call you with the details.”

 “What about my job?”

 “I’m sure he’ll work something out.” He shifted his weight to one leg. “The club owner is loyal to the Crown.”

 She nodded.

 “You’ll be fine.” He smiled at her. “I’ll be around to protect you.”

 He gently cupped her cheek with his hand and briefly ran his thumb along her lips. Celes felt her breath hitch in her throat. That strange look in his eyes had returned and while it made her nervous, a part of her was excited about it. The voice in her head scolded her for the latter. This man had kidnapped and assaulted her. Now she was stuck spying for the prince. Prompto withdrew and left a few moments later. Celes quickly locked her front door and headed directly to her bedroom. She collapsed onto her bed, not even bothering to change out of her tank top and miniskirt. Sleep overtook her shortly after her head hit the pillow.  

[robotspiderrampage]

Letter to Rebecca Moseley

Ashbury, 19 July 1887

To: Rebecca Moseley, 1 Old King’s Way, Caladon

Rebecca, 

I hope this letter finds you well, and I also hope that you remember how to read this. I have also enclosed a similar message for your father.

[The rest of this message is encoded in a series of pictographs, essentially Wingdings.]

Dearest sister, I apologize for the coded message. Though I personally have no more need for subterfuge, I’m sure that Dad would appreciate the gesture, given the sensitive nature of some of the things I plan to tell you.

I’m sure that at this point, you’re aware that I’m alive. I survived the crash of the Zephyr. I’m sorry for any grief I may have caused you before word got back to you. You were the only person who knew I’d left on the Zephyr initially, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy dealing with the aftermath when it crashed. I should have written you, but unfortunately, circumstances prevented me. 

You see, the crash of the Zephyr was just the beginning of the convoluted mess that I find myself finally nearing the end of. I found myself thrown unwillingly into a plot so inconceivable that you’ll probably think me mad if I tried to tell you all of it. But, given that this may very well be my last communication with you, I feel that I can risk you judging me as mentally infirm in addition to being physically infirm.

The Zephyr didn’t crash from mechanical failure. It was shot down in an effort to kill one of the passengers: a dwarf named Stennar Rockcutter. The reasoning behind this treacherous murder plot is even stranger. You see, Stennar was a member of the Black Mountain clan of dwarves, a clan that disappeared 60 years ago after Gilbert Bates revealed mechanical plans for his patented steam engine based on their own to the public. The cause of the clan's disappearance? Abduction. A group of Dark Elves (elves who defected from the main body of elves after the Age of Legends), masquerading as emissaries from Quintarra, lied to the leader of the dwarves, stating that Bates’ inventions had led to the destruction of uncountable elven forests and that the Black Mountain Clan was responsible for the damage, as they had given Bates the plans. They demanded that the clan be banished to the Isle of Despair, a prison island off the coast of Ashbury. As it happens, the Clan wasn’t banished to the Isle. They were banished to the Void. Yes, that Void. The same one that people tend to go to when they die, according to the Panarii. You know, the funny humans in robes that we used to see scurrying around Caladon? Those Panarii. I’ll be touching on the topic of the Panarii again in a moment. They’re pretty important to this story. Anyway, the dwarves were banished to the Void so that they could build some sort of device to break an individual stuck in the Void out. The individual in question? None other than Arronax, the villain of the Panarii holy book. See? I told you I’d get back to the Panarii. It turns out that the Panarii actually prophesied Arronax’s escape, and in their prophecy it was stated that their god, the elf sorcerer Nasrudin, would return and fight him, defeating him once and for all.

At this point, you’re obviously thinking two separate thoughts. First, that I’m insane and spinning conspiracy theories. This… is a fair assumption. Second, you’re probably wondering what any of this has to do with me, and why I didn’t just come home after the crash. I thought endlessly about doing just that over the last two years. The problem was that I and the other survivors of the crash were erroneously identified as the reincarnation of Nasrudin. A young Panarii monk, Virgil, told us that because we had survived the fiery crash unscathed, that we had been “reborn on wings of fire”, just as the prophecy stated for Nasrudin. We tried to debate the validity of that statement, but Virgil's mentor, the Elder Joachim, agreed with him. Even the Dark Elves seemed to think of us as a new potential threat, as well, sending waves of assassins after us from the moment we clawed our way out of the wreckage. Admittedly, in their case, they probably considered us a problem due to our brief conversation with Stennar before he passed on from the injuries he’d sustained in the crash. From that point on, my fellow survivors and I have had no other option than to unravel the plot that I spun you above in an effort to figure out why everyone either thought we were a god, asked us to handle a difficult but relevant situation, or wanted us dead, all the while avoiding contact with our loved ones out of fear of you being used against us. However, as we worked to untangle the twisted knots of intrigue, we found even more complications. 

First, the Dark Elves had been led to believe that the Device that they had kidnapped the Black Mountain clan to build would be used to break Arronax out of the Void. It turns out that Arronax was never in the Void at all! He lives, alive and well, off the coast. Now, before you exclaim “but wait!”, don’t worry. He’s not the bastion of evil that the Panarii made him out to be. We met him. He’s just a sad old man struggling with daddy issues. Magick was able to extend his life to the present day. You may ask why the Device was built, then. It seems that Kerghan, the terrible necromancer that had been banished to the Void for crimes against sentient-kind in the Age of Legends, managed to trick the Dark Elves into thinking that he was their idol, Arronax. The Device exists to break him out. It uses the souls of the dead stuck in the Void to power itself.

 Second, the Device is ripping holes into our world. We’ve encountered many such rips and they allow the terrible creatures of the Void, demons, beasts and the like, to enter our world. The rips also destabilise reality, and if the current trend continues, there may be enough to end reality as we know it. 

Third, the monk that originally clued us in to the Panarii prophecy has far more to do with the situation than even he initially realized. He left us a year ago, angry and depressed from the stress of the quest and of us, and ended up in one of the rifts… and therefore the Void itself. He encountered the Device, but since he was alive when he did so, it couldn’t use his soul for power. Instead it shattered it. The shards were able to retain sentience and some were able to escape. Saint Mannox, the man who wrote the Panarii holy text, and therefore the prophecy that pulled us into this mess, was one such shard. The Panarii elder who mentored Virgil and encouraged him to stick with us was another. All of them seem dedicated to engineering our involvement in these rather unbelievable events. 

Fourth, it seems that the only way to stop the world ending and possibly save poor Virgil from the Device is to get into the Void and stop Kerghan. We have plans to do just that. Hopefully we’ll succeed, but there’s a very low chance that we’ll make it back out alive even if we do.

Rebecca, I’ve done and seen so much on this journey… and I don’t just mean the absolutely hairy series of unfortunate events that I just laid out for you. I roamed the continent. I got engaged and then (sadly) broke his heart. (Which, by the way, my ex-fiance is apparently in Caladon now. My companion, Thaddeus, mentioned to him that I have siblings, so… I’m sorry if you have a random new suitor.) I stood up to Councilman  Babcock and (accidentally) made a rude gesture at him while dressed as you (which you probably heard about and I’m sorry if that hurt your reputation, though I know you and you probably thought it was hilarious). I was arrested half a dozen times. I met the king of the dwarves and the leader of the elves. 

Best of all, I made friends. Real, live friends that aren’t related to me. Against all odds, I managed to fall in with a group of weird, funny, awful, lovely outcasts and… I have friends.Thaddeus, the human, is a fellow technologer, a practitioner of medicine, and possibly one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. He can be awkward and naive and frustrating occasionally, but mostly he’s just unflappably kind and the most loyal friend I could ask for. He’s known about Tarant as the Pervert of Tarant, but don’t listen to a word of it. He wouldn’t know a set of genitals if it bit him, He’s certainly no Pervert. Waltera is a quirky halfling who loves both love and other people’s stuff.  Utvald was a half-ogre that traveled with us for a short time before settling in Tarant. Last we saw him, he was in a rather dangerous situation. I hope he’s okay. Pog the Garringsburg’s half-ogre joined us for a while, too. He seemed quite smitten with me, but he eventually found acceptance at the University in Tarant. Wolf is a Dark Elf (!!!) who defected from the rest. She’s exceedingly odd, constantly nude, and occasionally a danger to herself and others, but I find her more pleasant than I may let on. Her sister Zan also travels with us, and she’s the calm, rational counterpart to her sister. She and I are of a like mind on many matters and I appreciate her greatly. Straf is… well he’s Straf. He was an elf, but thanks to a series of magickal shenanigans, he’s now some horrible salt golem/dragon hybrid. Don’t ask how. I really can’t explain it. He’s an awful person, a loudmouth, a bigot, and quite possibly the worst person I’ve ever met… But he’s also loyal and has saved my life more times than either of us would care to admit. Magnus, a dwarf, is intelligent, a fine craftsman of armor and weapons. He’s kind and just the right level of sarcastic and is also quite handsome, if I do say so myself. And last, though certainly not least, was our dear friend, Virgil. He was sweet, kind, and never missed an opportunity to be helpful. He could be surprisingly strong-willed when he wanted to be. He wanted to rise above his childhood of pain and poverty and make a difference in this world. Unfortunately, we pushed him to the breaking point. I miss him keenly, Rebecca. I hope we can save him.

Lastly, before I sign off on this letter, I have some news involving our father, Doc, and the reason I left. I’m sure, given all the other nattering on that I’ve done in this letter, that you thought I’d forgotten my goal. I didn’t. I found out exactly what happened to Doc. He’s still alive, Rebecca. Dad didn’t kill him, and he didn’t die of natural causes. He’s alive. Dad had to fake his death to protect him. It seems that Dad is the exact opposite of what I thought he was. He’s not a callous businessman exploiting a race of people for his own benefit. He’s helping them. He’s saving the half-ogres from the other gnomes. The Industrial Council is forcibly breeding half-ogres for use as unpaid labor. Dad knows and has been quietly trying to stop them. I met with him a few weeks ago and discovered the truth, after I had located and destroyed the facilities at one of the breeding colonies. Dad kept everything from us because he wasn’t sure he could trust anyone, including his own children. That made me angry, at first. After all, I had been pretty open with him about my views on the subject of half-ogre subjugation. Yet, he let me run off into danger that he was apparently fully aware of, given how much he knows about my exploits. I thought it was short-sighted or selfish. I thought maybe he was just doing it for the glory. But the more I think about things, the more I realize that that’s not the case at all. He didn’t think he could trust us. He put the needs of the many, many half-ogres over the needs of us. Yes, he let me amble off into danger. I might have been hurt or killed, but honestly, if I’d proven untrustworthy and he had told me, I could have doomed hundreds, possibly thousands of half-ogres. As much as it hurts, he was probably right. Their safety outweighs mine. This realization makes what’s to come in my own quest more bearable. I’m willing to walk into the Void if it helps save everyone else. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

But, sis, I do have one need of my own to fulfill before I go. We have to acquire one last thing before we’ll be able to take on Kerghan in the Void, but once we get it, we’ll head to Roseborough to be sent to the Void. It’d like to see you before I leave. If you head to the Roseborough Inn after you get this letter, we may be able to see each other before I go. If you don’t wish to do so, then I understand, though.

Love, Dyna

[oltnews]

Now that we have all the time in the world, filling it up with movies has become an organized quest, and lists of useful movies have proliferated online. Some of them seek to cheer us up - classic comedies, vintage musicals, all happier times, of course - or to put our desperation in perspective with dystopian exercises like 12 monkeys, Mad Max, The road, And so on.I want to offer something different: a list of bizarre movies that were underrated at the time of their release and that have remained undiscovered since. Some of these movies, like the 2009 Jennifer's body, have undergone a critical reassessment and are now considered to be adorable cult films. The others have also developed cults, of one size or another, but are still waiting for the large-scale love they deserve.Jennifer's body (2009)The critical indifference to this high school horror comedy was disconcerting. (He scored 44% rotten on Rotten Tomatoes.) Diablo Cody's script - a marvel of sexy sarcasm - was the sequel to his first script for the 2007 hit Juno (whose director, Jason Reitman, is one of the producers here). And the star, Megan Fox, of the mega-budget transformers franchise, delivered a luscious parody of its own image of sexual puppet. Fox plays incumbent Jennifer, a snooty cheerleader who falls into the clutches of an independent group called Low Shoulder, whose members are desperate to make it big and have decided to sacrifice a virgin in order to enlist Satan as their manager. Unfortunately, since Jennifer is not virgin in every sense of the word, the group's ritual attempt goes awry badly and a newly launched demonic Jennifer is soon embarked on a bloody rampage. Amanda Seyfried effectively cuts her own movie star look to play Needy, Jennifer’s geek friend, and Chris Pratt, Amy Sedaris and J.K. Simmons is also on site. (Now streaming on Amazon, YouTube, iTunes, etc.)Surveillance (2008)Going back after one of the most hated beginnings in recent film history: the oddity of amputation in 1993 Helena Boxing- director Jennifer Lynch (daughter of David) directed this really scary serial killer feature. Bill Pullman and Julia Ormond play a pair of FBI agents lured to a slaughter site in Nebraska's hinterland, where they interact with bent cops and young drug addicts and search in vain for reliable witnesses. (There is one, but she is 11 years old, and who wants to hear what a child has to say?) The film has a dark and sunny atmosphere and a most disturbing conclusion. He scored a lame 55% on Rotten Tomatoes and has yet to attract many second looks. It is never too late, however. (Now streaming on Amazon and Netflix)Fountain (2006)Some - well, many - Darren Aronofsky's masterpiece, which made time stumble, was a pretentious romance. But it is a film of spectacular beauty which has constantly accumulated new admirers. Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz play Tom and Isabel, a couple whose love never dies. In 16th century Spain, she is a queen who sends her on a mission to the New World to find the Mayan tree of life. 500 years later - now - he is a scientific researcher looking for a cure for cancer that kills Isabel, who in this incarnation is his wife. He learns of the existence of an ancient tree in Central America whose bark could be the remedy he seeks. In the year 2600 AD, we find Tom ascending through the heavens in a transparent bubble boat containing a large tree. The glorious effects of space in this film are large explosions of microscopic chemical reactions (the work of optical systems developer Peter Parks) and the magnificent score by Clint Mansell could become a permanent part of your life. (Streaming on Amazon, YouTube and Vudu)The midnight meat train (2008)Critics liked this horrible horror movie a little more than the audience, perhaps because Lionsgate emptied the image unofficially in second-run cinemas and few people could see it. Bradley Cooper is a stormy photojournalist named Leon, who tells of the inhabitants of the night in an unspecified big city (it's L.A.). He becomes aware of a mysterious subway train that does not operate until midnight, and naturally he wants to know more. It's an idea as bad as you imagine. Terribly horrible things hit the passengers on this train, all distributed by a brute swinging with a mallet called Mahagony (the naturally terrifying Vinnie Jones). Bloody violence is not lacking (the film is based on a story by Clive Barker), but the Japanese director, Ryuhei Kitamura, really excels in creating tension and fear, and also in the editing oh-my-God. (Streaming on Netflix and Amazon)The brothers are blooming (2008)This second feature by Knives out Director Rian Johnson is an eccentric fairy tale with boundless charm. A pair of conmen brothers (Adrien Brody and Mark Ruffalo) make the mistake of trying to defraud a wacky heiress (Rachel Weisz), who counts among his hobbies kung fu, power ping pong and chainsaw juggling (on stilts), and who would love to become a scammer herself. The image is floating all over central Europe, but even with the brothers bringing in an expert in daffy explosives called Bang Bang (Rinko Kikuchi), we feel that the big ass they planned in Prague will not work well. They should have felt something wrong when their brand observed: "The trick to not being cheated is to learn to cheat." (Streaming on Amazon and Vudu)Black dynamite (2009)A wonderfully crazy tribute to the blax exploitation films of the 70s. Michael Jai White is perfect as a holder of Black Dynamite, a CIA agent returning from Vietnam who intends to put an end to some bad villains who are channeling the heroine in the ghetto. There's also a disturbing new brand of malt liquor that has hit the streets, a range of pimps and slippers and vintage purple clothing, martial arts and very low-cost car chases, and a ridiculous crime lord. called Fiendish Dr. Wu. There are also a lot of nice lines (delimiting the comic strip luxury pad, a character says, "You must have an eight track in each room"). Director Scott Sanders made this film in three weeks (and then turned it into an animated series on Adult Swim). He should work much more than he does. (Streaming on Amazon, Netflix and Vudu)Hancock (2008)Released at the dawn of the age of the cinematographic superhero (the same year Iron Man inaugurated the MCU), Hancock seemed to confuse the critics with his relatively subtle combination of understated humor and real emotion. Despite the presence of Will Smith and Charlize Theron, the film bombed. It deserves another chance. Smith plays a super guy called John Hancock, who has the usual powers of flight, strength and immortality. John does a lot of good in the world, but he also causes a lot of collateral property damage, for which he is very unhappy. So he became an alcoholic living on the streets of LA. An admiring PR man named Ray (Jason Bateman) tries to help him and does so; but then John meets Ray's wife (Charlize Theron), and the film suddenly takes a wild and unexpected turn. It is definitely worth a try. (Streaming on Amazon, Netflix and Vudu)The fall (2006)Although he already made a feature film in 2000, the horribly distinctive sci-fi horror film The cell- Indian director Tarsem Singh continued to win most of his live commercials. He brilliantly decided to use the globetrotter required by this profession to make another film, at his leisure. This resulted, after four years, in The fall, an extremely outrageous and amazingly beautiful fantasy film shot in Cambodia, Italy, Indonesia, Bolivia and China, among other remote locations. It is a film about the stories and their stories and the heroes they need; but it is essentially a vast sea of ​​surreal images in which the spectators are invited to plunge their heads. There is really nothing else like it. (Streaming on Netflix and Amazon)High sky (2005)Will Stronghold (Michael Angarano) is a teenager living in the shadow of his superhero parents. His father, Steve (Kurt Russell), is a successful real estate guy best known in super circles like The Commander; his mother, Josie (Kelly Preston), is the famous supersonic Jetstream. Will does not seem to have his own powers, so he is afraid of entering Grade 9 at Sky High, where the descendants of superheroes are classified into two categories: some will become superheroes themselves, others - the losers of the super-lottery of life - will make him become acolytes. It's a Disney film, so family oriented, but also witty and trendy (thanks mainly to Russell, a Disney veteran who made his first film for the company in 1968). Mary Elizabeth Winstead plays the villain Royal Pain and the principal of Sky High is, wonderfully, Lynda Carter. (Streaming on Amazon and Vudu)Where the truth lies (2005)Originally released with an NC-17 rating due to its unusually frank sex scenes, this finely blackish film by writer-director Atom Egoyan is a puzzle-thriller that deserves more attention than it has ever received. . It focuses on Lanny Morris (Kevin Bacon) and Vince Collins (Colin Firth), a famous comedy duo (think of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis) who suddenly broke up in 1957, without any explanation, after the discovery of the body of a woman who died in Miami in the tub of their New Jersey hotel suite. Years later, a young journalist named Karen O'Connor (Alison Lohman) agrees to work with Vince as a negro on her autobiography, hoping to get to the bottom of the mystery of the breakup. Then she meets Lanny, and things get very, very complicated. The film has a wonderful retro perverse air, and Bacon and Firth are downright disreputable as they had never been before. (Streaming on Amazon and Vudu) https://oltnews.com/these-10-underrated-movies-offer-a-perfect-quarantine-viewing-experience-reason?_unique_id=5e9f904b3e9c0

[anumali93-blog]

Wednesday 6th January 2010

I am not a writer. In all honestly, I struggle a lot which I believe is due to my dyslexia (to the people that know me, yes I do have it!)

I have put off writing this for so long because it is going to break my heart in every way, shape and form. This blog is all about my thoughts and feelings since the day my big brother was involved in a car accident on Christmas Day 2009 which killed him, to how I have coped with it to this day. I have my tissues ready because I will cry a lot. 

I was 16 years old, enjoying Christmas Day with my family. We was all sat on the sofa watching Eastenders. My younger sister (Ayesha) was trying to get hold my big brother (Imran) who had gone to Scotland with his friends for the day. I remember the phone went straight to answer machine and Ayesha at this point was really worried. I remember just shrugging it off. I must have really been into Eastenders.

We all went to bed and my big sister's (Amna) boyfriend now husband (Nadeem) stayed over that night. 

Ayesha woke me up ‪around 2am‬ in the morning along with Amna, Nadeem and my younger brother (Farhaan) saying the police are knocking on the door. We was all in a daze as we had all woken up apart from Ayesha who hadn't yet gone to sleep. My parents had separated at this point and my mum was out with her friends.

Nadeem opened the door and the two police men immediately asked for all family members to be present as they had terrible news. I honestly thought this was part of my dream. The police men asked Amna to confirm Imran's car registration plate which she did and they informed the car was involved in a fatal accident where two out of three passengers in Imran's car had died and one man had survived however he had serious head injuries and is in an induced coma. 

Before I go any further, I'll explain how the car accident happened. Imran was driving round the bend on the motorway and skidded on black ice which made the car go onto the embankment. The car then rolled back onto the motorway however on its roof. Another car then crashed into my brothers car which immediately killed two of the passengers. 

They asked us loads of questions which made me think my brother had died that night such as if he was wearing Timberland boots. Anyone who knew Imran would know he would never ever own a pair of Timberlands. They advised the survivor was wearing Timberlands. At this point my heart dropped, I didn't even cry. I just froze and begged myself to wake up from this nightmare.

By this point, my mum and dad had come to the house and immediately they was arguing and blaming each other. The police advised us to travel to Preston immediately as they needed my parents to identify the survivor. 

It was the most horrible car journey up to Preston. Ayesha was crying uncontrollably, Farhaan was sleepy - he was only 7 at the time so he didn't really understand what was going on. And me? Still begging myself to wake up.

We got to the hospital and I was crying so much, I didn't want to go in and see what was happening. We all got there and Amna was greeted by our family liaison officer called Alex. Amna has always been the mum figure and as she was the most stable out of us all, she dealt with the reporters and the police. 

My mum was the one who went in to identify the man in the coma. My family was sitting in the waiting area, all in silence, hoping and praying that my brother had survived.

After what felt like a lifetime, my mum came back and said what we wanted to hear, my brother had survived. However my mum was crying so much. My mum has previously worked in hospitals looking after patients who had leukaemia. She knew since seeing my big brother in an induced coma that he wasn't going to survive.

We all went back home on Boxing Day morning. My dad got himself a hotel and stayed there in Preston to be with my brother. We requested for him to be back in Manchester so he would be closer to home, however due to how poorly and the amount of injuries he had, that wasn't possible. 

The next 12 days was agony. My family met with my brothers friends who had died to offer condolences. I was trying to be strong, for my mum, my little brother and my sisters but it was tough.

My parents arranged a doctor they knew to come visit my brother, he gave us false hope and advised my brother would be fine and to start arranging things at home, such as a suitable bed for him etc. Which is what my mum was looking at doing.

It got to New Year's Day which is a day I'll never forget. Imran adored Farhaan, we all knew it was because he hated having three younger sisters and always wanted a little brother. When Farhaan was born, Imran was the happiest person alive. We took Farhaan to see Imran. It was the first time he opened his eyes, he saw Farhaan and started crying. By witnessing this, I cried so much and it's a moment I'll never forget.

Days went by and my brother still hadn't woken up and hadn't progressed. 

It was Wednesday 6th January 2010. Three days before Imran's 22nd birthday. The worst day of my life.

It was the year we was badly snowed in, all schools was closed.

I was at home with Farhaan, I made us breakfast and we decided to watch ‪Mean Girls‬ - a film I've not watched since this day. My mum and sisters was on their way to my brothers friends funeral. They had literally just left to go and I felt as though I had just sat down.

I heard crying, shouting and banging on the front door. I opened it and Ayesha said the words I wish I could forget. 'Imran's died'. 'WHAT??!!' I screamed back. Amna was crying. I can't remember where my mum was at this point. 

I stepped outside into the snow and literally collapsed. I don't remember much from there.

My big brother had died of a heart attack at the age of 21.

Someone, possibly a neighbour took me back into the house and I saw my mum, on the floor, punching it hard screaming 'not my Imran' I wish more than anything I could forget that, I can still hear the screams in my memory. 

I ran upstairs to my room and starting punching, screaming, crying. I couldn't believe this had happened.

My uncle shortly came round and managed to dig my mums car out from the snow and drove us to Preston. It was the most silent journey ever. I was sat with Farhaan who again was so quiet and looked heartbroken. I do try talking to Farhaan about this now but he can't remember any of it.

We got to the hospital and my brother was put in another room where my dad was. My family stood around my brothers body and just cried so much. The thought of killing myself came there as I thought, there is no way on earth I am going to get through this, how the FUCK am I supposed to live now? 

My mum actually did grab a wire when we was in that room and tried to strangle herself. Again a memory I wish I could forget. My dad and uncle ran up to her and took the wire of her and tried to help her calm down.

All of Nadeems family came, who are basically my own family. I don't know what we would have done without them which I remind them to this day.

I remember getting back home and walking down the street in a daze. There was so many people outside our house. Family, friends, neighbours, all there to offer their condolences. I really badly wanted to tell them to fuck off. I just wanted a few hours to myself to give me time process what had happened. Suppose I've got the rest of my life for that.

Imran's funeral was on Friday 8th January 2010, a day before his 22nd birthday. Again, I don't remember much, my brain has blocked out most of my memories as I spent the rest of my teenage years torturing myself about the car accident, thinking about how scared my brother must of been, what his last thoughts where and what if he had just stayed home with us on Christmas Day instead of going to Scotland? He would be alive today. I would have my big brother. 

I had suffered from extreme depression, eating disorders and anxiety. Which in all honestly, still hasn't completely gone away today, almost 8 years later.

I am happy to say my eating disorder has finally gone away. Anyone who knows me is aware of how much I eat. It’s taken me a long time but I’m glad I can finally stomach eating 3 meals a day.

I do still class myself as suffering from depression and anxiety. Especially this time of year. I tend to block and push people away and try to get through December and January on my own which I know is the wrong thing to do and possibly makes my depression and anxiety worse.

I hate Christmas, Boxing Day, New Year's Day, all of January. I hate snow. I hate winter. I hate Mean Girls. I hate driving when it's icey/snowy.

It reminds me of everything I've been through.

I still get angry sometimes, at God if there is one. Why my brother at 21 years old? Why did I have to experience this trauma at the age of 16 which had impacted and heavily affected my adult life? The day my brother died I classed myself as an atheist. In my eyes, there is no God. If there is, he’s a cruel being.

I even hate getting close to people, it takes a lot for me to open up to people as I hate telling the story of my brother, which is a huge part of the person I am today. 

I care about people so much, possibly more than normal. I am so scared people I care about will just die, which is probably why I hate leaving things on bad terms with people that mean a lot to me and I am that person that will do anything to make sure people stay in my life, no matter how they badly they treat me.

I also have the tendency to push people away, maybe because I am terrified they will mean a lot to me and then knowing they will die one day.

This year has been tough, since 2010 I haven't known anyone to die. This year I have known 4 people to die. One of them being my grandad. He was heartbroken when Imran died. He kept saying it should have been him. My grandad went to Mecca a month before my brothers accident and brought his coffin and outfit which had been bathed in holy water. Little did my grandad know he wouldn't have used that for him, but for his grandson. 

I still worry about my mum, who is and no one can argue on this point, the strongest woman alive. She has been so strong for me, my sisters and my brother. Even today. I have my moments. I get upset, drive to my mums and curl up in her lap and cry that I miss Imran. She's always there for me, cuddling me and telling me he is proud of me, for how much I have achieved, how I have got back on my feet and continued with my life. 

She suffers from bad depression still, I mean her first born child died before reaching the age of 22 and she still had to be strong for her other 4 children. 

Amna is also strong. She's given birth to my three beautiful nephews who have been brought up knowing all about their uncle Imran. They have a picture of him in their bedroom which I took when I moved into my own place. Ayaan who's the eldest aged 5, shouted at me and told me he wants his Uncle Imran's picture back in his bedroom. 

They still don't understand what's happened. Ayaan and Zaki (aged 3) still ask me why they haven't met Uncle Imran and why he doesn't come to play with them like me, Ayesha and Farhaan. We have to explain Uncle Imran is in heaven and is watching down on them. He would have been the best uncle ever, definitely a better Aunty than what I am!

Ayesha's doing well too, finally passed her driving test, looking to buy her own house with her partner and wanting to start a family soon.

Farhaan is in his last year of school, looking to go to college and eventually university.

Me? I'm just getting by on every day life. Working full time, enjoying being independent and saving up to buy my own house.

I did go to university and gained a degree in Counselling and Psychotherapy. My goal in to firstly travel starting end of next year then when I get back home, to have a job which is linked to my degree.

Over the years I’ve had therapy which has helped me in so many ways. I’ve learnt how to deal with my emotions and anger. Learnt breathing techniques simply in those moments where I get overwhelmed and feel like my chest is closing up on me. I’ve learned going for walks, exercise and eating healthy really are your best friends.