#but the chemical cocktail of Fuck You Everyone Hates You And Your Life Is Shit?!??

[enbeemagical]

tfw you have a shit day and then you realize Those Days are upcoming very shortly

[ghostiewriter]

chapter one | tale of a slightly unstable teen hero

Summary: JJ is starting to gain recognition around New York as the new hero in town. However, some complications arise with his new chemistry partner. Oh, and turns out he isn’t the only bloke around here with powers.

Warnings: John B is a simp, I feel like that needs a warning tbh. Umm there’s a lot of swearing (I’m Scottish, don’t judge), again some violence and fighting, also some cute ass moments between JJ and his mum so enjoy that

Word Count: 8.1K

A/N: Sooo there’s finally some Jiara in this chapter!! Hope you enjoy👀and I’m not responsible for any feels caused by JJ and Georgia Maybank!!

masterlist // taglist // ao3

“Spider-Man does it again! Report of our favourite web-slinging hero saving the day once again after a fatal accident left an apartment complex on the corner of 5th and 36th street in flames. The teen hero arrived at the scene not long after the distress call was made to the local fire department and managed to rescue over twelve people that were trapped on the top floor. New York thanks Spider-Man once again.”

JJ grinned as he leaned back in his seat, sparing a smug look towards John B in the driver’s seat. JJ didn’t usually carpool with John B but it was getting colder and his extra-curricular activities were wearing him exhausted by morning. Plus, the last time JJ skated to school when he was half asleep, Pope had to pull him out of a trash can. Turns out raccoons can be very territorial and did not appreciate the blond taking a small visit into their home. He was pretty sure he still had scars on his back from some of those little bastards.

“Three weeks on the job and you already have a little fanbase,” John B commented, reaching over to turn the radio down a little since the reporter moved onto some irrelevant news neither of the boys cared about. “Soon you’ll have a swarm of fangirls chasing after you while you fight crime.”

“Don’t be jealous, JB,” JJ grinned, both arms behind his head as he looked at the passing view. “I’m sure one of my groupies will slum it down for you.” He teased, only laughing when he felt the flick on his forehead.

As much as he hated to admit it, JJ had seriously enjoyed the past three weeks. They were intense, impulsive and unpredictable. Just how JJ liked his life to be. It wasn’t easy at first though, it took a good few attempts before the people of New York actually labelled him as a hero. Maybe it was because he was some young bloke who popped out of nowhere with abilities that no could really understand. Or maybe it was because he was going around in a red ski mask, blue shirt, a red vest with an awfully drawn spider on it and some blue joggers. He looked like a right on idiot, especially with the chunky goggles Pope added to his costume. But if it kept his identity secret, then so be it. The last thing JJ wanted was a bunch of journalists swarming his apartment, especially since he wanted to keep this whole alter ego away from his parents. In fact, he wanted to keep it away from anyone who wasn’t John B or Pope.

It was safer that way.

“At least that’s one more that Pope.” John B said nonchalantly.

“As if, dude!” JJ scoffed, grinning at the distressed—and fairly high pitched—‘WHAT’ that came from the brunette. “Oh, c’mon, Pope created a whole ass bat signal for me! You just sit there and look pretty! Pope gets at least two groupies.” He said with a shrug.

It was true. JJ knew Pope was smart, but this was next level. After realising that JJ wasn’t getting the recognition he needed to be labelled a ‘superhero’, Pope had come up with the ingenuous idea to infiltrate the police radio stations. Not only did they have full access to updates on crimes around the city, but Pope even felt a little fancy and made it so JJ would get a notification sent to his phone the second there was a job for Spider-Man. That boy was way too smart for his own good, but JJ was grateful for it.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” John B asked with a teasing grin.

“Yeah,” JJ smiled, reaching to place his hand on John B’s shoulder with a squeeze. “Pretty fucking ugly.”

John B’s smile instantly dropped as he scowled at JJ, who was happily snickering at the sudden change in mood. “Whatever, Spider-boy.”

“Yikes, low blow.”

The rest of the journey was spent in a similar vibe, except with JJ checking his phone every five minutes. He couldn’t help it, but the past three weeks had been some of the most exciting in his life. JJ had been labelled the troublemaker his whole life, the one that was throwing pencils into Mrs Ramirez’s curls because they looked like little hoops. Or even just doing his damn best to avoid the work he was given. It was a force of habit. JJ’s brain was running at a million miles a second. Nothing could hold him down, keep him entertained for longer than thirty minutes at most. And his teachers had constantly reminded him that his impulsive nature and high energy would lead him nowhere good in life.

All JJ had to say to them now was a massive ‘FUCK YOU!’ because how wrong they were. It was those qualities that made JJ the perfect hero. He could react quick to a sudden change, he was always on his feet, he had found something that not only could he channel all his energy into—but he was damn good at it as well. John B and Pope had warned him that it was best to keep himself humble, to not get too arrogant. But who was he kidding? JJ made a pretty fucking bomb superhero and everyone loved him. It seemed like he deserved to feel arrogant, to soak in his time in the spotlight. He enjoyed every single second.

So, can you really blame JJ for checking his phone, wanting an excuse to put that mask on and do the one thing he is good at? Except for skateboarding. Everyone knew JJ was the best skater in Queens.

Unfortunately, there was no sudden crimes that JJ could use as excuse to ditch school. A true tragedy, if you asked him. It seems like he will just have to suffer through another day of learning things that either happened way too long ago, didn’t make sense to him or he just truly didn’t care about. Which just happened to be basically every subject—excluding wood-shop. Except he was taken out of the class because apparently making mini bongs for birds is not okay. Who would’ve thought.

“I don’t see what the issue is—it’s a fool-proof plan!” John B argued as the two boys made their way through the corridors of Midtown High. Only stopping once they reached John B’s locker where he exchanged his books and JJ checked out the hallway for anything that caught his eye.

“Bro, you have a ten-year plan to end up with Sarah Cameron,” JJ stated bluntly. “And even then, you end up as her second husband—“

“No one can prove what happened to the first.”

“It’s fucking sad, JB.”

“It’s a solid plan.” John B stated simply and shrugged his shoulders, deciding to ignore JJ as he rolled his eyes, muttering something about John B being a ‘hopeless fool’. John B only grinned wider and glanced at his watch before whispering a small ‘shit’ to himself. “I gotta go, see you at lunch.” And with that, John B was zooming his way down the corridor.

“You know it’s really creepy that you plan when you bump into her!” JJ called down the corridor, but he doubted John B heard him. “Like really fucking creepy…like restraining order level creepy!

Once he noticed John B’s head turn the corner, undoubtedly on his way to ‘coincidentally’ bump into Sarah Cameron, JJ calmly made his way to his first period class, not in a big rush to get there.

**********

You see, after the incident in wood shop and many others after that, the school had taken the decision to move JJ into a class they deemed more valuable of his time. Chemistry. Stick the ADHD kid in a room full of chemicals…seemed about right. However, JJ was being transferred half way through the term with absolutely no knowledge in chemistry other than how to make a Molotov cocktail. Therefore, he didn’t really see an issue in showing up to a class he was already hopeless in. His teacher disagreed.

“Mr Maybank, it’s nice of you to finally join us.” Mr Marino—a middle-aged bald man who had looked as though he had been through one too many divorces and contained most of his knowledge in the form of his beer belly—commented as JJ entered the class.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe what happened to me!” JJ sighed dramatically.

“Let me guess: your alarm didn’t go off.”

“It was my pet monkey, sir. Has a mind of its own.”

“Your pet monkey?”

“Yup, his name is JB. Nasty wee guy but I keep him around, he’s a good laugh. Could do with a shower though.”

“Take a seat, Maybank.”

“I can feel the love.” JJ grinned before he turned to look at the class. It was set up with eight workbenches, two seats at each. His eyes scanned over each one before he caught an empty seat at the back-left workbench, the only empty seat—and just his luck it was next to the curly haired beauty for the trip.

JJ was starting to think he might actually enjoy this class.

“We just keep meeting, sweetheart. I think it’s a sign.” JJ whispered to her as he took his seat next to her, definitely sitting a little closer than he had to. He tried not to smirk when he noticed her subtly moving away from him. JJ always loved a challenge.

“Or a punishment.” She replied bluntly, not even sparing JJ a glance.

“Aw, is this how it’s going to be for the rest of the year, princess?” JJ muttered with a pout. He tried not to smile when she finally turned to look at him.

“Rafe got a concussion.” She hissed.

“So?” JJ frowned.

“So? You caused it!”

“And I should care because?”

“He is banned from the football team for six weeks!”

JJ stared at her blankly. “And…?”

“He is the captain!”

“Boohoo, they’ll survive without him.” JJ shrugged, leaning back in his stool as he flashed her one of his usual girl-charming smiles. “But hey, if you’re really stressed out about it, I’m sure I can help you find a way to relax.”

“You’re a pig.” She stated with a small huff, stubbornly turning to face the front, planning to not even give him the chance to redeem himself. Trust me when I say Kiara is an open person, always there to give people a second chance. But JJ Maybank was not one of those people. In the three times she had met him, he had been nothing but a shameless flirt who had no care for the world beyond his sex life. She could be judging him too quickly, but in her defence, he hadn’t given her anything else to work with.

However, Kiara assumed her behaviour was clear enough that she didn’t want to talk to him, that she could gladly go the rest of the year without willingly speaking to him. But this is JJ. Hyperactive, unable to sit still JJ. He didn’t get the hint.

“So, do anything interesting this weekend?” JJ asked her, that classic smirk of his on his lips. But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she kept her gaze on Mr Marino and his oh-so interesting talk on bond orbitals within an atom.

JJ raised his eyebrows when he received no reply from her. “Giving me the silent treatment now? That’s a bit rude.” He commented.

“So is giving someone a concussion.” She stated.

“Do you want to know what I did?” JJ asked.

“No.”

“Geez, princess, no one ever taught you manners?” He teased, taking the pen he was spinning between his fingers to gently poke her arm. She only huffed and moved her seat further away.

“Okay, alright, fine! I get it…” JJ trailed off, and Kiara couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. But she spoke to soon. She heard the scrape of a chair and suddenly she could feel the warmth of JJ right beside her, their elbows just touching.

“Is there an issue, Mr Maybank?” She heard Mr Marino call out but the boy next to her just shook his head, that mischievous glint shining in his eyes.

“No, please carry on, Alan.” The blond replied, his fingers tapping against the worktop counter.

Kiara sighed. She knew very well that she could put her hand up and complain, or even ask Mr Marino to change seats after class ended. But she was stubborn, and she would be damned if she gave JJ that satisfaction of knowing that he got under her skin.

This was going to be a long year.

**********

“She called me JB! That basically takes three years off my plan!”

“Dude, I don’t know if this is really sad or creepy now…” JJ grimaced. He had spent the last fifteen minutes listening to John B and his ‘coincidental’ encounter with Sarah Cameron. And if he was being honest, he was concerned for his friend. And his stomach…this boy needed to let JJ eat his lunch before he had to hear one more comment about how ‘yellow is totally her colour’.

“I mean, it just compliments her complexion so well! C’mon, how many people do you know that can pull of yellow and not looked totally washed out!” John B argued. But JJ just met him with a blank stare.

“When the fuck did you become a fashion expert?” JJ spoke up, his nose scrunched in confusion.

“I took a class once.”

JJ looked at him with his mouth agape. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Piss off, I wanted to learn how to dress better.”

“Says the guy that wears horrible thrifted Hawaiian shirts.” JJ deadpanned. John B only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back onto Sarah.

JJ followed his line of sight towards Sarah Cameron and her group, and he was shocked at the sight. He noticed the usual people in their uptown outfits and obnoxious laughs he could unfortunately hear from his seat. But it was the sight of his chemistry partner looking quite cosy under Rafe’s arm that caught him off-guard. His eyebrows furrowed a little, but hey, JJ should have seen this coming. The uptown kids like to stick with each other. Yet, JJ couldn’t help but find the sight quite uncomfortable to look at—Rafe had that effect on people. It was a surprise he managed to score…JJ paused. He had spent a whole hour with her and yet, he didn’t even know her name.

He nudged John B, yet neither one of them looked away from the group. “Hey JB, who’s Sarah’s new chick?”

“Who?”

“The pretty curly haired one standing next to her, dumbass.”

“Oh…I don’t actually know—“

“—Kiara Carrera. Relocated here from Kernersville, North Carolina. Her father owns a large chain of restaurants around the country. She is also the only junior other than yours truly doing three AP classes, including environmental science, biology and English.” Pope finished, panting a little considering he had literally just ran into the cafeteria and heard the last few words of their conversation.

JJ looked up at Pope with a mix of awe and fear. “What, you forgot her national insurance number as well? How the fuck do you know all that?”

“The school files.” Pope answered easily as he turned his laptop around and with the screen facing them, JJ decided he was definitely a little scared of Pope.

“Those are meant to be locked away in some super, secret network thing!” JJ hissed, only to be met with a smirking Pope.

“As if, it’s easy as fuck to hack something as amateur as the school’s firewall. Could do it with my eyes closed.” He grinned at the two of them. “Why, JJ? Hiding something from us like…I don’t know…your middle name being Belinda.” He snickered.

“YOUR NAME IS BELINDA?!” John B gasped, looking at JJ with wide eyes.

“Shut up, would you!” JJ hissed at the both of them, leaning over the table to flick John B on the forehead. “I was named after my grandmother.”

“Aww, Grammie Belinda.” John B cooed. JJ only glared at him.

“Hey, Grammie Belinda was a saint, don’t disrespect her like that.” JJ huffed, pointing a finger towards John B. He then turned to Pope who had made himself comfortable in the seat next to him.

“Why were you asking about Kiara?” Pope asked JJ, snatching a few chips from his plate. JJ swatted his hand away but didn’t stop Pope from doing it again. “Does JJ have a little crush?” He teased, pouting a little.

“Piss off,” JJ laughed as he nudged Pope with his shoulder. “She’s just my chemistry partner.”

“Ooh, so you guys have chemistry together?” John B grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fuck off, JB. Go back to stalking your little uptown princess.” JJ commented, returning the grin as both friends shook their head. They both knew the other meant no harm.

“Well, if you two little lovebirds are done having your moment,” Pope piped up, both boys looking over at him. “I need you to meet me on your rooftop at nine sharp tonight.”

“Damn, Pope, finally taking me out?”

“You wish, Spider-Boy,” He grinned, but the look he was giving made JJ a little nervous for what Pope had hidden up his sleeve. It could honestly range from a pet raccoon he befriended to creating some weird Frankenstein bug. “Just be there.”

John B pouted. “What about me?! Is this where I become the third-wheel?”

**********

“Mama?”

“In here!”

JJ dropped his bag by the couch as he made his way to the kitchen, the soft sound of the click telling him the door shut behind him. He sniffed the air as he walked in, seeing his mum at the stove and grinned a little, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“What’s for dinner?” He asked, peeking over her shoulder.

“Spaghetti,” She hummed, a soft smile on her lips as she peeked a glance at her son. “How was school?”

“The usual,” He answered with a shrug as he made his way to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water before heading towards his usual spot on the counter. “Teachers still don’t appreciate my comments, Pope said smart things I didn’t understand and JB was a love-sick puppy.”

She grinned, shaking her head a little. “I find John B’s attempts to woo that girl quite admirable actually,” She commented. “It wouldn’t kill you to be a hopeless romantic every once in a while.” Yet, she only laughed when she saw JJ’s face scrunch up in disgust.

Despite JJ’s reputation for being an adrenaline junkie who loves to live life on the edge, these were actually his favourite moments. The little moments he shared with his mum, just the two of them. It is one of the few moments in his life where he feels relaxed, no expectations or pressures. And as sappy as it sounded—and no offence to John B and Pope—but JJ wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was one of his best friends, one of the few people in his life he truly cared about. People like her are the reason he enjoys being Spider-Man, because despite the shit people in the world, there were some genuinely good people out there, like Georgia Maybank.

It was hard to believe JJ and Georgia Maybank were related. She was a sweetheart, the type of woman who would take time out of her own life to volunteer at local food shelters despite having just done a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. She is the type of woman to buy flowers and hand them to strangers on the street just to brighten someone’s day. She is the type of woman who would work her ass off to give her son all that she could, despite the struggles she faced with the bills and rent because her son was her life. She was the opposite of JJ’s hyperactive self.

But boy, did they look very similar. From the sandy blonde hair the two of them shared, to the bright blue eyes, to even the exact same smile. JJ really was a carbon copy of his mother. And there was a small part of her, one she would never outwardly admit, that adored the fact JJ looked so much like her. Like a primal mother instinct, she loved her son and she loved that everyone knew he was her son. She would be damned if someone ever asked her to hide that.

Georgia was the type of mother that had that warm aura around her, the one that made you just trust her with your life. The hugs she gives just makes you want to stay in her arms forever, because everything is just better with Georgia Maybank. JJ knew that and he always reminded himself of that. No matter what shit he gets into, no matter how much he may envy the uptown kids—none of them will ever have Georgia Maybank and he would gladly flaunt that.

He may not have designer clothes or a fancy car to drive to school. But they don’t have Georgia Maybank, dancing around barefoot in the kitchen while she badly sings along to some old 80s song that is playing on the radio, just to make him crack a smile.

JJ grinned as his mother grabbed his hand, pulling off the counter before they jokingly began to waltz around the small kitchen, some classical song playing from the small radio that sat on the counter by the stove. JJ only laughed as he apologized for stepping on her toes again, but she didn’t mind. She just smiled and continued to dance.

“Why do I have to do this? I’m starving, woman!” He whined playfully as he twirled his mum around a few times.

“Because, JJ, one day you’re going to have a beautiful girl—or boy, I won’t assume—that will somehow fall for that charm of yours,” She spoke softly, placing a hand on her son’s cheek, a proud glint in her eyes when he rolled his eyes at her statement but still had a small smile on his face. “And I will be damned if I don’t teach my son how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

“Nothing says romantic like stepping on a girl’s toes.” He stated bluntly.

Georgia only laughed and ruffled his hair before she turned back to the stove. She grabbed two plates, putting in a larger portion for JJ—which with his new transformation wouldn’t actually be enough but he will sneak out during the night to eat the leftovers when she’s asleep—before placing them on the small dining table in the corner, gesturing for him to join her.

The rest of the dinner was fairly uneventful, simply just JJ telling her about John B’s updated seven-year plan with Sarah Cameron and Georgia sharing any particularly interesting stories about patients she had to deal with during her shift. JJ really let this dinner sink in. As much as he loved his mother, her inability to say ‘no’ and be so giving kind of bothered him. Because she had taken up extra shifts for a few of her colleagues due to something about the ‘stress of wedding planning’. JJ had been seeing her less and less—and though it was good for his recent Spider-Man shenanigans—this dinner made him realise just how much he missed her. Just a nice, wee dinner with his mum, nothing else. And everything seemed to be going well, until he heard the radio presenter’s voice flowing through the kitchen.

“Locals say that Spider-Man is the next best thing to happen to New York since deep-fried pizza! But I don’t know, Janet. I mean, who is this kid? Where did he come from? There just seems to be a lot of unanswered questions with this so-called hero. Can we really trust some prepubescent boy who probably spends his day with his head in a textbook? It just doesn’t seem—“

The radio presenter was cut off by Georgia turning the volume down. “People can’t appreciate a good gesture anymore.” She huffed. JJ watched her closely as she finished off washing the last of the dishes before turning to face him, a small frown on her lips.

“I think he’s doing the city a favour.” JJ said half-heartedly with a shrug.

Georgia nodded, her fingers gently fiddling with chain around her neck, well more specifically the gold ring attached to it. “I know but,” She sighed. “What a shame, putting all this pressure on a poor teenage boy. Oh, I feel bad for his parents!”

JJ coughed a little. “It could be his decision, you know.”

Georgia continued as though she hadn’t heard him. “I could only imagine how stressful it would be have your son out there, throwing himself at danger.” She shook her head as she made her way to where JJ still sat at the dining table. “Promise me you wouldn’t do something so careless?” She asked sweetly, gently cupping his face in her hands as she looked down at him.

Now, JJ knew there was a teasing tone to her words. She wasn’t being serious because, how could she? Her son being a superhero with crazy powers? Not possible. She and JJ shared everything and it was because of that he couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him. He hated lying to his mum, he hated keeping secrets from her. They were always close, JJ never felt the need to hide things from her. There was always such a comfortable vibe between them. But he knew how she would react if he told her the truth. He knew she would freak out and make him stop. And JJ didn’t want to stop. As much as he hated the guilt that bubbled inside him, he pushed it away and gave her a grin.

“Of course not, I would come up with a better name than Spider-Man.” He joked lightly and closed his eyes when he felt his mum press a kiss to his forehead. He nuzzled his head slightly as he wrapped his arms around her, resting his head against her stomach. He smiled softly when he felt her hands running through his hair, just like the way she used to do when he was younger and struggling to fall asleep. He tried to hold back a yawn.

“That’s my baby boy.” She said with a gentle laugh.

“Mama, I’m a not a baby! I’m a man now.” He whined but he didn’t pull away from her grip just yet. He missed his mum’s hugs, sue him.

“You’ll always be my baby boy.” She commented with a small shrug.

“Yeah, yeah,” He murmured. After a few moments of silence, he looked up at her, giving the best puppy-dog eyes he could. She was always a sucker for those. “Can I go hang out with JB and Pope tonight?” He asked with a sweet smile.

She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Just be back before your father gets home.”

**********

JJ rubbed his hands together as he stared at the view from the roof. New York looked absolutely stunning this time of year, especially at night. The sky was pitch black, and it should’ve seemed daunting. But the bright lights of the city illuminated everything. It was mesmerising, a sight that JJ would never get tired of seeing. And with his newly discovered powers, he found something therapeutic about swinging around the city and being surrounded those bright lights. It felt like he was swinging through the stars—he obviously didn’t share that with the boys, they would take the piss out of him. Speaking of which…

“Where the fuck is he?” JJ hissed, turning to look at John B who only shrugged in response. As much as JJ liked New York at night, it was cold. The lower body temperature caused by the spider bite really didn’t help the situation. He had a hoodie and a jacket on and still the light breeze was making his teeth chatter.

“I don’t know.” John B shrugged. JJ rolled his eyes in annoyance. It was 9:15pm and JJ was about five minutes away from freezing to death.

Just then, the rooftop door opened and a wild Pope was sprinting towards then, panting heavily as he ripped his backpack off and quickly unzipped it. Words were leaving his lips but between the panting, neither of them could work out what he was saying.

“Dude, calm down, breathe!” John B exclaimed. Pope nodded and took a minute to catch himself.

“Your lives are gonna change forever!” He grinned before looking at JJ. “Strip.”

JJ raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Strip.”

“Dude, it’s like fifty fucking degrees, I am not gonna fucking strip!”

“Stop whining and do it!”

JJ huffed and started to take his clothes off, muttering some very…colourful phrases towards Pope. However, he didn’t get much time to question his friend’s demands because the second he was stripped down to his boxers, he had a bunch of fabric thrown at him.

“Wait…is this…?” He trailed off, looking at Pope with a new look of excitement shining in his eyes.

“You bet,” Pope grinned. “Say hello to your brand-new suit, Spider-Man.”

JJ excitedly began to pull the suit on, suddenly forgetting all about his theatrics with the cold. But Pope wasn’t done with his surprise.

“The suit is a total upgrade!” He began, his hands moving wildly as he spoke. “The fabric is strong but flexible. I have added small web-shooters to go over your spinneret glands so you can have a more direct shots. There are a few extra things I’ve added like a small heater to keep you warm and a few sensors, so we can keep track of your vitals. Oh, and for us—” He paused before handing John B a silver bracelet.

John B looked at the bracelet in confusion. “Uh, thanks?”

Pope only grinned and showed John B that he was wearing a similar bracelet. He slipped it off before unclipping a small oval shaped device from the middle of the bracelet. “This is the coolest part,” He nodded for John B to copy his movements. “To be honest, these took the longest. I had JJ’s suit done like two weeks ago but—”

“And you made me wait this long? Dude, I looked like a weirdo running around in joggers!” JJ groaned, but there was no real hostility in his voice.

“Just put on your mask, dude!”

JJ rolled his eyes but didn’t answer as he slipped the mask over his face. He was a bit surprised at how easily he could see through it, way better than the goggles he had before. The suit was a perfect fit—props to Pope after it took an hour to get all of JJ’s measurements. The material was tight and breathable, practically clinging onto JJ like a second skin. Oddly enough, he felt far more comfortable in it than his last costume. Pope clearly liked the colour scheme, having kept the red and blue palette but with a massive spider on his chest, with lines wrapping around him to look like a web. He looked totally badass, he felt badass. He felt like a proper hero from one of those comic books and posters Pope has around his room.

“So, how do I look?” JJ asked, flexing as he gave the boys a little spin. Pope only grinned, proud of his creation. John B gasped, clearly just as hyped as JJ was.

“Dude, your ass looks great.” John B commented, causing JJ to snort.

“When does it not look great?”

“Guys! The last surprise!” Pope piped up, causing both boys to stop staring at JJ’s ass and instead turn to him.

“These little guys,” He said, nodding between the small oval devices in his and John B’s hands. “Are gonna help us keep in contact with you while you’re swinging around. Little ear pieces so we can help you out and keep tabs on you if you need any help.”

“Where’s my bracelet?” JJ frowned beneath the mask.

“You don’t need one, dumbass. Your ear piece is connected into your mask!” Pope grinned proudly. JJ let out a scoff, shaking his head.

“Pope, you fucking genius!” He yelled, and he pulled his friend into a tight hug. John B, feeling a little left out, quickly joined the hug.

“This is so cool, dude, now we are like an actual team!” John B grinned.

Pope was the first to pull back, looking at JJ with a wild look in his eyes. “I think it’s time for Spider-Man to show the city his new look.”

JJ grinned under the mask, already beginning to take a few steps back. “I think you’re right.” And without a second thought, he left himself fall off the edge of the building.

On that October night, New York watched their own hero swing through the streets, letting the cheers and whoops of the strangers sink in. They watched their hero in a new light, a more professional one. The next day, he was no longer that kid running around like some wannabe. He was Spider-Man, the new saviour of New York and a beloved hero.

It was wild what a good new suit could do for your reputation.

**********

“Did you see the pictures The Daily Bugle released?”

“He looked so hot!”

“I’d let him save me any day!”

“You don’t even know what he looks like…”

“So? Have you seen those arms? Nothing else matters!”

JJ couldn’t help but let the smirk on his face grow as he walked through the corridors of the school. It was the day after his new suit reveal and he wasn’t going to lie, he was soaking in all the attention. He was particularly enjoying the twitter thread that was made about his ass. John B didn’t lie, his ass did look good in this new suit.

He continued his way through the sea of students before he made it to his chemistry class, not surprised that people were still talking about Spider-Man. His eyes instantly glanced over at Kiara, who was sitting at their workbench scrolling through her phone.

He grinned as he quickly past the other students and sat quite comfortably in his seat. His eyebrows raised slightly when she didn’t react at first to his appearance. His curiosity got the best of him as he leaned towards her, peeking over her shoulder to see what she was looking at. Now, JJ won’t lie to you, but when he saw her staring at pictures of Spider-Man, his ego definitely inflated a little. Okay, maybe more than a little but you get the point.

“You a fan?” He couldn’t help but ask, trying to keep his smirk to himself.

Kiara quickly snapped her head to look at him, slamming her phone down screen first onto the desk. “Can you mind your business?” She huffed, trying to calm her heartbeat a little. She didn’t even hear him come in, which is odd since usually you could hear JJ from a mile away.

“Aw, c’mon, Kiara! I thought we were besties now.” He grinned to her, wiggling his eyebrows a little. He leaned forward on the desk, bringing him a little closer to her. His forearms were pressed against the desk, his body leaning on them. She noticed how close their hands were. But after yesterday, she refused to left JJ get under her skin again. Or at least let him see how much he is bothering her. So, she stayed where she was, not moving back like he expected.

“You know my name.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement.

“Surprised?” He whispered, smirking a little when he noticed he wasn’t moving away. JJ risked it a little more and moved a bit closer.

“Took you long enough.” She replied with a shrug. JJ’s grin only widened.

“Oh yeah, counting down the days, princess?” He raised an eyebrow. He noticed her lips quirk a little, like she was fighting back a smile.

“You wish, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Shut up.”

“I think someone has a little crush, Kiara.” He grinned at her, only to witness her roll her eyes and push him away.

“In your dreams, Maybank.”

“Oh, you’re definitely in my dreams, Kiara.”

She rolled her eyes again but didn’t bother replying this time. She instead focused her gaze on the front of the class as Mr Marino entered the room, beginning the lesson. But if she had glanced over to the blond sitting on his right, she would’ve seen he was smiling throughout the whole lesson.

**********

“Thank you, dear!”

JJ nodded his head a little in acknowledgement and gave the older woman a small salute. “Always here to help, ma’am.” He said, handing her the small handbag that he had just rescued from the hands of some man who had tried to steal it from her.

“Aw, you’re really starting to win over the senior citizens.”

JJ rolled his eyes when he heard Pope’s voice through his earpiece. “Dude, I think she pinched my ass.”

“Lucky you, older woman, that’s hot.”

“JB, shut up.”

JJ snorted a little at the bickering, extending his arm out before he was swinging between the buildings with no trouble. He had been using any free time he had lately to be out in his suit, getting used to all the cool, extra bits that Pope had added. And he won’t lie, the boy really outdid himself. JJ felt like a total badass, being able to swing around and save people and feel like a real hero. He also enjoyed the change in attitude people had with him. He was Spider-Man, the city hero. He was appreciated. He was wanted. Not something JJ felt very often.

“Anything happening around town?” JJ asked, his eyes scanning the streets below, waiting to see any conflict. He couldn’t help but feel as though there was a part of him that was on edge. He couldn’t really explain it, it was like a bad shiver down his spine. It was a similar feeling he felt before that bank robbery fiasco a few weeks ago. It was a nasty wee feeling, one that had him on alert. Something was wrong, he didn’t know what. But he could sense it.

“Nah, everything seems to be fine. Maybe you should take a break, you’ve been swinging around for, like, three hours. You need to rest, dude.”

“What?” JJ muttered, so quiet that the boys on the other side barely heard him. That couldn’t be right, he can feel it. Something isn’t right, something bad is going to happen. “Guys, are you—”

He was cut off by a series of screams.

JJ’s body was reacting way before his brain did, like his hero side just leaped into action at the alert of any distress. He was swinging as fast as he could, his arms burning a little as he got closer and closer to the sound of those screams. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears, could feel his heart rate pick up. The adrenaline coursing through him, making him forget about the burning in his muscles from the three hours of patrolling he had done.

“That’s fucking weird, there is no police reports coming through.”

JJ ignored the voices coming through the earpiece, his whole body feeling rigid as he crouched on top of a building, looking at the carnage below. There, in the middle of the square stood what looked like a moving black cloud. Civilians were screaming and running away, but the black cloud just remained. His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was waiting for it to do something, to lash out. But it didn’t. He opened his mouth, ready to ask Pope if he was just imagining something when he heard the black cloud speak.

“Spider-Man, oh Spider-Man! Come out, come out wherever you are!” It spoke in a raspy, demonic voice. Whatever this way, it wasn’t human. JJ may have failed biology, but he knew that for sure.

“JJ, don’t. We are have no idea what this thing is. It could be a trap—”

“I got this, Pope.” JJ muttered, ignoring his friends’ pleas to think this through as he swung down, landing a couple of feet away from the black cloud. “You called?”

Suddenly, in the middle of the cloud, JJ swore he could see lips begin to materialise. He frowned beneath the mask but didn’t move away. His fist was clenched at the side, ready to react if the cloud tried anything.

“Ah, we finally meet, Spider-Man.” The cloud spoke again. The voice sent shivers down his spine. JJ pushed away that feeling of discomfort. Something about the cloud felt familiar, but he couldn’t tell what. It was like an annoying itch he couldn’t reach.

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” JJ questioned. “Look, dude, if you’re a fan, I appreciate it, but you don’t need to scare away a whole block of people to get my attention. You can just ask for an autograph like everyone else.”

“JJ stop provoking it!”

“You’ll know me soon enough.” The voice replied ambiguously. JJ furrowed his eyebrows together. Whatever this cloud was, it was being far too vague for JJ’s liking.

“PEOPLE OF NEW YORK, I SPEAK OUT TO YOU!”

JJ winced, clutching his ears. His body was on high-alert, his ears sensitive to pick out any small noise or rustle. He looked at the cloud and then at his surroundings, noticing how every screen—every phone, every billboard, every electrical compliance in this vicinity that he could see—was projecting the black cloud. It was broadcasting to the whole city. JJ couldn’t help but wonder where the fuck the hidden camera was. How was it doing this?

“YOU LABEL THIS KID AS YOUR HERO! YOU TRUST THIS CHILD WITH YOUR LIVES! YOU ARE FOOLISH!” The voice boomed, suddenly the black cloud began to form tentacles that were slithering from whatever was at the centre of it. “LET ME SHOW YOU THE TRUTH! LET ME SHOW YOU WHO YOU HAVE TO PROTECT YOU!”

JJ was a little too distracted by the concept of a cloud broadcasting to the city that he didn’t even notice one of the tentacles slithering towards him. It wrapped itself around his leg before swinging him into the nearest building.

JJ let out a small oomph as his body made contact with the brick wall. He could hear yelling in the distance, the sounds of people screaming. But nothing was overpowering the ringing in his ears as he slowly dragged himself to stand up.

“JJ, GET UP! JJ!”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He muttered, blinking a few times before he turned back to look at the cloud. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and quickly rolled over to the side, the tentacle that threw him smashing into the wall not even a second later. That rush of adrenaline hitting JJ again as he quickly swung out of there, not even looking behind him until he knew he was a good distance away to assess the situation.

“IS THIS WHO YOU WANT PROTECTING YOU? A COWARDLY TEENAGER? C’MON, SPIDER-MAN! LET’S SEE WHAT YOU’VE GOT!”

JJ swore under his breath, trying to catch up with his thoughts as he watched more tentacles appear from the cloud. “Where the fuck are they coming from?” He muttered before swinging down to a lower building rooftop, crouching at the edge. He narrowed his eyes as he extended his hand out, shooting a web towards the centre of the cloud. There had to be something solid within this thing, something he can grip on to, something he can fight. But he was met with nothing. “Fuck.” He frowned before he began to crawl down the side of the building.

“You seem a bit jealous, mate!” JJ called out, watching as all eight of the tentacles seemed to snap their attention towards him. God, that was scary. “Don’t you have to tell me some wild origin story before you kill me?”

“MY AIM ISN’T TO KILL YOU, SPIDER-MAN. NOT YET!”

“Oh, that’s really reassuring, thank you so much.”

“I WANT NEW YORK TO SEE HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE. HOW USELESS THEIR SAVIOUR IS.”

“A bit of an odd wish, if you ask me.” He murmured to himself, quickly snapping his wrist before swinging around the black cloud. He watched as the tentacles reached out for him, just grazing him as he swung between the buildings.

“JJ, FIGHT BACK!”

“How the fuck do I fight something that isn’t solid? Get a vacuum? If you have one big enough, please do share. Call the ghostbusters or something!”

He heard more screams, some closer than he expected. He assumed everyone ran off, but when he turned his head to the side, he noticed a man standing there, frozen in fear. More importantly, he saw a car heading straight towards the scared man.

“Shit, shit, shit,” JJ yelled as he quickly yanked his web, spinning around and landing in front of the man, his hands extended out in front of him. Seconds later he felt the impact of the car, the weight and momentum it came crashing in at hit him strong enough to make him slide back a few feet. “Go, dude!” He yelled at the man, who had finally come to his senses and thanked JJ profusely before sprinting away. JJ groaned and threw the car away from him, huffing slightly.

“HOLY SHIT, JJ! THAT WAS A CAR!”

“Oh, no shit, Sherlock! I thought it was Barbie’s Dreamhouse.” Only JJ would be sarcastic while his life is in threat.

But it was that sarcasm that distracted him long enough for one of the tentacles wrap around his ankle, yanking him down from the small jump he had taken so the web he was currently gripping snapped with ease, preventing him a quick escape like he planned. He didn’t even have time to scream before he noticed the tentacle bringing him closer to the middle of the cloud, his eyes widening slightly.

He wiggled around in the tentacle’s grip, trying to find a way out but it was relentless. He wasn’t sure what was real or not, not sure if he imagined screaming in his head or if he actually did as he was dropped into the centre of the cloud.

Then, he felt nothing.

JJ was vaguely aware of his surroundings. He didn’t know if his eyes were open or not, but it was dark. He tried to move his arm, but it felt constricted, like he was swimming in something really thick. His brain was screaming at him to call out for Pope and John B, to move his hands and swing out of here, to do something. But another part of JJ felt completely content in this situation. He couldn’t explain it, but something washed over him, like a massive electric shock that made him aware of just how…familiar this seemed. It was similar to the feeling he had earlier.

He felt safe, understood.

And then that feeling was gone.

Suddenly, JJ found himself being thrown around in circles, something holding a tight grip on his ankle. But soon enough, that let go too and JJ was soon flying through the air, too out of it to even react fast enough to web onto something or soften his eventual crash.

JJ felt the air be completely knocked out of him, his body bouncing off the concrete a couple of times before he rolled over. It took him a few attempts to finally open his eyes, take in his surroundings, to see he was in some dingy alleyway. He turned his head to the side, briefly seeing a black blob in the distance. He could hear some muffled yelling.

“HEED THIS AS A WARNING, SPIDER-MAN. NEXT TIME WE MEET, IT WILL BE OUR LAST!”

JJ vaguely furrowed his eyebrows together before turning his head to stare at the blue sky above instead. When the ringing and the muffling was over, he could hear the screams of his friends coming through the earpiece.

“JJ! JJ, PLEASE FUCKING ANSWER, DUDE!”

“JJ, ARE YOU DEAD?!”

“WHY WOULD HE FUCKING ANSWER IF HE WAS DEAD!”

“SHUT UP, I’M FLUSTERED!”

JJ frowned a little, his whole throat felt dry and numb. There was also a metallic taste in his mouth that told him he must’ve bitten his tongue at some point. God, he hated the taste of blood. “It…It felt…”

“OH MY GOD, JJ!”

“IT FELT LIKE WHAT BUD? YOU GOOD?”

“It felt just like me.” He finally got out.

Then everything went black.

[farfanfiction]

Loyalty to the Pack: Part 8

Pairing: John Seed x Joseph Seed x Reader x Jacob Seed

AUs: Omegaverse, werewolves

Warnings: Angst, cursing, reference to smutty stuff, cheating, drugs (bliss), kidnapping, gun violence, physical violence, blood, manipulation

Word Count: 2,889

A/N: Happy holidays everyone! I hope you guys have a fantastic Christmas, Qunzah, winter solstice or whatever you celebrate. This chapter will be the last I put up until the new year and it's pretty plot heavy. All I can say is, I’m sensing a little smut in the very near future... And like always, give me some feedback on what I could do better or what I did alright, where you wanna see this whole mess go, or something you just don’t understand. The gif is not mine. 

Masterpost  My Omegaverse Rules

   The Deputy closed his brown eyes and pinched his nose. There was only one sensible option at the moment. He had to take you, even though you belonged to John, giving you up was a fucked up decision. No one deserved to be given to the Seeds, no matter how bad. It wasn’t like he was already on their shitlist, this would make no difference.

   “I’ll take her with me…” It was painful as the Deputy spewed it out. Nick just looked at him in pure shock. Never in a million years would he ever expect the big, bad Deputy to take on something like this. Save a couple people, sure. An easy job. But saving an Omega from a maybe manipulative pack was something far more important. All Nick wanted was every Omega safe and loved, much like his Kim, but he knew deep down, that would never happen. It was an ungranted wish.

   “Man, thank you so much.” The Alpha hadn't felt this excited since Kim announced she was having his pup, nearly seven months ago. At least that Omega would be going somewhere safe and hopefully far away from John. “I’ll go get her. You just grab anythin’ you need to help ya!” Nick was already sprinting before the Deputy had any time to reply. What the fuck did he get himself into?

   At first, this was just a cult of religious extremists that needed to be put down, now he was learning that it was also a pack of highly dangerous werewolves. The type of creature that eats people and turns every full moon. If someone would have told him this before he came here, he would have laughed in there face. Now Nick, a very trusted friend of his, was telling him it was all true and he was also one. But, the Deputy just shook his head once again and waited for the Alpha to come back.

   Nick sprinted up the stairs and carefully opened the door to his bedroom, afraid of scaring both Omegas inside. He quietly peeked inside to hear Kim talking to you in a hushed whisper. Thanks to his better quality hearing, he could only hear bits and pieces of the conversation, but at least it was better than most human hearing. 

   First, it was about Hope county in general, then it moved onto more serious topics. You discussed about living under the pack and John and how draining it was to be offered to such an Alpha that was so bad yet you desperately wanted. Just hearing someone talk about John like that caused Nick’s stomach to churn.

   Deciding he heard enough, Nick lightly tapped on the wall and both your heads turned. Your (e/c) eyes grew wide at the Alpha standing in the doorway. He didn’t look or smell familiar. He smelled far more like an Alpha than John, not hiding his natural masculine scent with stupid fucking chemical cologne.  “(Y/N), this is my Alpha, Nick. He’s going to help you.” Kim said this slowly so you could understand. Since when did you need help, it wasn’t your decision to be driven away to this unknown location.

   It even seemed like you were gone for a pretty long time, long enough to worry John, hopefully, or even better, the Father. Oh, god what if you angered the Father?! You would definitely pay for this when you go back... if you go back.

   “How is he going to help me?” You asked trying not to sound bitchy. If they were in the same situation as you, they would sure as hell bitch too.

   “I have a friend that will take you far away from that… cult.” Nick tried to choose his words carefully, he had no idea what the people on the inside thought they were involved in. For all he knew, you would have thought it was a normal pack. Joseph could be a typical image of an Alpha to you and the way they treated Omegas could be the same.

   A cult. You had heard from Joseph during multiple sermons that the people on the outside thought you were all involved in a cult, it didn’t seem like it to you growing up. When people are raised in a particular environment, they believe anything is true. No one in your family acted like they were controlled, Gabriel never mentioned anything to you about it, or your parents, siblings or heralds. Everyone just wanted to survive the collapse.

   “If it gets me away from John, I’ll do it.” You would do just about anything to get away from him at the moment.

   You knew the risks, if you went back to join the pack, John would no doubt find out about it and bring you back to that hell hole he calls a lodge. Spending eternity in that little bedroom, waiting for the collapse. Only to be ushered into a tight bunker to be herded off like any other member of the pack. You wouldn’t be by John’s side, that’s Holly’s place. You wouldn’t have the opportunity of walking through Eden’s Gate together as the Father had promised. This one promise was what kept you going. As that believe began to disappear, a cocktail of doubt, envy, and ever great sins began to twist and turn in your belly, replacing the blazing heat from before. He promised…

   “Great, come down stairs, I have someone ya need to meet.” You gave a look to Kim and she just offered a kind smile, ushering you out of the room and down the stairs. The man at the bottom of the stairs scared you more than Jacob first did. Black hair, olive skin… It was the Deputy. The guy that invaded your room earlier today and was causing a big hassle for everyone. If there was a Hope County’s Most Wanted, he was your guy.

   “The Deputy will escort you to Fall’s End and he’ll get ya settled from there.” There was no fucking way you would get in a car with him. Not again, nope! For all you know, he would drive off a cliff with you still in the car or shoot you in cold blood in the front seat. This guy hated every member of the pack and he wasn’t afraid to kill. You had seen the death on John’s manicured front lawn. No normal man would kill so many people without a reason.

   “Oh, hell no. I’m not getting into a car with him!” You yelled, ready to run back upstairs to Kim. Before you could, Nick grabbed your arm and gave you an Alpha stare. A stare that held such domination and authority. The same stare Jacob always gives.

   “Fine…” You had no other choice, John or the Deputy and the Deputy seemed way better than the Alpha at the moment.

   Nick gave a sigh of relief and helped you to the Deputy’s truck. Your heat was still there and you weren’t in the best condition at the moment, with the lack of affection and a knot from a willing mate, your body would only get weaker and weaker until you eventually died. 

   That’s definitely what you needed right now, a nice, fat knot. The thought of a knot stretching your slicked pussy inspired images of, believe it or not, the oldest Seed brother. Fucking Jacob. You could just imagine how fit he was underneath all those clothes. From what you could feel when he carried you, he was pretty sturdy. These fantasies distracted you from the main factor, gunshots. They sounded like the same gunshots from the previous night. Loud and piercing.

   You slowly let yourself out of the heat-induced fantasy to see multiple Eden’s Gate trucks surrounding the Deputy’s own truck. The Deputy pulled out his handgun and shot two men straight through the head. You winced a bit as the bodies fell into the dirt on the side of the road. This was definitely disgusting. It made your stomach twist into knots of the mear sight of the corpses and the slick blood. It was not nearly as bad as the night before, but still horrible.

   One lucky shot pierced the steel of the truck. The deputy toppled onto the steering wheel and his eyes began to close. “Deputy? Oh, come on! Get up.” You tried to shake him awake, but he wouldn’t budge. That was the last thing you remember before feeling pain on your left side and surrendering to the cold embrace of the dark.

   The minute you woke up, you were underwater. You could feel your head spinning as the bliss tried to invade. It was not as gentle as it was before. Joseph was not performing the baptism. There were no warm hands or soft caresses. Only the high from the bliss was there and the cold stream of the water as it soaked through your white dress and onto to your already slick soaked skin.

   All of a sudden, you were pulled from the cold water only to see John first. A shiver ran up your spine at either the sight of him or the cold, you had no idea. The mear smell of him put your brain into a frenzy. You didn’t know what to think. Was it hate? Lust? Or even, love? All these emotions wanted to burst out, but you kept them at bay like you always did.

   The man who dunked you led you to John, who reached out and took your shaking hands into his. He looked at your soaked figure but said nothing. He rubbed his long, warm fingers from your forehead, down to your tinted blue lips and across your (s/c) cheeks. He looked you straight in the eyes, his blue eyes piercing into your own (e/c) ones. He knew who you were and he was going to do nothing about it.

   It wasn't long before the Alpha gave one last look and walked to the Deputy, his perfumed Alpha scent still lingering as he walked. You gave a sniff and gave slight smile at the comfort the scent brought you. God, were you feeling like a piece of shit. 

   The man who treated you like you were unimportant, even though you were meant to be the most important person in his life, still made you weak in the knees. Ever since you were young, you’ve always admired the youngest Seed, that admiration was still there and blinding you from the real truth. The man is an utter asshole.

   You were soon lead to a van loaded up with baptized civilians and as well as a member of your pack. The wolf paid you no mind as you all sat in silence, waiting for the Deputy. Unless he was a Beta, there was no way he was not smelling you right now. With your encounter with John still on your mind, your scent was probably through the roof at the moment.

   The back door to the van opened minutes after, the Deputy pushed in by another pack member. He too sat in silence as the man across from rambled on about what was going to happen you all. These people had no idea. The church wasn’t as bad as they thought, they just wanted to help. They would be saved, either way, it was the wish of the Father, no, the wish of God.

   The ride to the bunker wasn’t long, you had only been there once, to accompany your stubborn Alpha father on a pilgrim to see John. But, luck was never on your side. Bad luck just had to follow. The van crashed and just you and the Deputy survived only to be saved by a man with a Bible and a gun. No one helped you, no one seemed to care. You sat in the reck of the van and waited among the dead. If this was where you were going to die, so be it. That was how you were going to go anyway, mateless and pupless, an Omega’s worse nightmare come true.

   Yet, after a while, the gunshots stopped and there was silence. Finally, peace… Until the crunching gravel was heard. Multiple boot covered feet searched upon the wreckage of the van and a face popped inside. You stared at familiar light blue eyes and a haze of misted green bliss. Was that, was that Gabriel’s mate? 

   It sure was. The Alpha’s eyes lit up with the most emotion you’ve ever seen him express. He shouted something to you, but you simply couldn’t hear it. It was as if your hearing was gone. He leaned into the van and pulled you out, lifting you into his arms. You looked all around you to see multiple demolished vehicles, only a few still standing. The most obvious was John’s fancy white truck. The same truck he drove you Seed Ranch with.

   Gabriel’s mate carried you to the truck and handed you to John. You hardly had any energy to deal with him at the moment and just drifted off, waiting to be carried back to John’s hell hole of a house.

   Instead, when you woke up, you spotted large steel support beams. The last time you remember, there was no steel beams in the lodge. John would definitely say they didn’t match his aesthetic. 

   This was probably the bunker from the look of it. All four walls of the room were made from slightly rusted green tinted metal and the floor was pure concrete. You gave your eyes a slight rub and looked around the room. It was brimming with computer monitors and machines, each one giving off a different sound. But the most confusing part was John. He sat next to your cot.

   “Thank God, you’re awake.” He let out a sigh of relief as he leaned back into his cushioned chair. His usually slicked back hair was wild and his sunglasses were nowhere to be seen. His beard looked unkept, this was very unlike him.

   “I thought you would have been dead with those sinners.” He actually sounded concerned for once.

   “Why would you care?” You tried to put on the tough act once more, hoping to cover the whirlwind of emotions that continued to brew. 

   “You were given to me by Joseph, of course, I would care about you. You are my Omega, I am your Alpha it is my duty to care for you.” He sounded as if he knew this the whole time.

   “If you're my Alpha why don’t you act like it!” This was really pissing you off, he had no right to act innocent.

   “I know I have treated you unfairly, I cannot be forgiven for that. When God had deemed us a match, I was scared. I have never been given something so precious in my life, the one thing I didn’t feel like taking advantage of, I didn’t know what to do with this kind of gift. But, Joseph had shown me the path, he was right about walking through Eden’s Gate together. All of God’s words are truth. He has seen great things in you, something that shouldn’t be tainted by the Deputy and something that shouldn’t be tainted by me. He hears whispers from the voice of pups, mates, and mostly, the Mother.” He blue eyes held such sincerity as he said it. The Mother, what the fuck was that!?

   “These sinners need to be redeemed in the light of God and in order to do that, you need to be by our side and walk with us. Walk the path and believe the Father's holy words and soon enough you will see and speak the truth, much like Joseph.” That heat from before swelled within you, it wasn't lust, it was love. Whether this was true, you didn’t want to know. All you were sure about was you didn’t want this feeling to end. John seemed to agree as he leaned in to touch his soft lips to yours.

Therefore I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little. 

[roberthanleytortora-blog]

This guy needs a new American dream

The guy was mid Sinatra song

Singing like some real-life crooner

As the room full of musicians

Obliged him

This one glory

Which I didn’t bother listening to

Instead taking a seat on the couch

After singing

Which is when he sat beside me

On the filthy smoke stinking

Practice space

Couch

He did lots of cocaine

Blow was all in his brain

Not a single look at him

The entire night didn’t see him

Slicing up piles of white powder

But don’t get the wrong idea

his lines were small

Not only that

He didn’t even shoot it

Matter of fact

There wasn’t a needle in sight

What a waste

so it’s not really like doing drugs even

His high wasn’t worth much

In Jesus feels

Warmth

And sunflower blooming

sure

he was high,

but w

ho here wasn’t?

These guys were always handing 100 bills over

For cheap blow

All cut with filler

You want good coke

Get it from the real drug addicts

Their guys would be out of business if the junkies street supplies

Weren’t always the real thing

Guys like me who know their drugs

Know who has the hardest hard drugs

Actually

I run with smart girls

Pretty girls

Break your heart types who fly by the seat of their pants

Paint perfection

Star flower Lillie’s by the bouquet

Make me dream again

Kill me omg

Running with wicked women who create whole worlds around their souls

Sneak me into bathrooms

Stick needles full of cocaine, meth amphetimine, heroin, fentenyl, death dreams come true in this morning haha omg omg

Hey man you guys should have seen how the rain fell

Dead best friends

Dead lovers

Dead sacred presences who held every secret

Dead lips long to learn again lips kissing passion sharing living in this reality

Spaces of me given over for keeping, heart beat, sacred holy human electricity, magnetic fields which surround outside the end of body

Fields of us shaping our shapes and us our molecules all bound into frequency DNA schuman resonance

Everyone with whom I became one

Bawling on bathroom floors beneath sinks sinking into arms like Jon’s who just hold me love me hold me and will hold me forever hold on for hours as blood orange suns rise and

Tell me over and over

They are with me

They are here with me

They will love me

That they won’t ever not love me

That we have been through everything together

That kissing me in high school

Eating LSD

Phish festivals

Huge homemade bongs

How I first taught him how to write songs

That he knew every song I ever wrote

They’d be remembered forever

Because he knew

I forgot

Everything

All the time

And even Blue who said

“What happened to you man? You used to be so smart, Jon and I were always so impressed trying to chase down your latest accomplishments and catch up. I’m not trying to be a dick. I just want to know what the he’ll happened to you”

But Jon held me every night

Vodka Drunk and demolished by all day boozing everyday

10am to sundown to sunup

So much I’ll never say

But Jon is gone

Alyssa, gone

Caity Perretti

Hannah Serbun my heart hurts so much

Photos of her so dirty that every hour of our days of our years of our life together

Of our friendship

And of her as wife

Wicked games of womanhood who are worlds of wanting whatever will ease this agony, inside claws crossing through organs guts puss mess goo and excrement air of alone and in a room suffocating on everything oxygen and breathing, seeing, thoughts at all, every turn

TERROR

osh told me

‘this guy likes to talk a lot. A lot”

Sure

That was packed fact

as it turned out

But maybe that’s why

when he saw me

hunched over

the blank notebook page

scrawling

words

for hours

he asked

hey

what are you youwriting a novel

Not a novel

A poem

it’s this idea that

every poem

is written in

public

like on the subway or

while I’m walking through Cambridge or

pulled over on the side of the road or

in a room full of friends

who become strangers

as the ink

becomes more flash

then my body

and the page is

more eyeballs

then my eyes

“I’d love to read some of it”

Thanks the interest

this poem is terrible

There’s an old one here

My friend told me I don’t understand holy

No one understands holy holy holy holy

Can look at this now

How look at this now

how can you say that man

this guy needs a new take on old the old American dream

Cigarette machines gas stations diesel fuel Highway 69 thumbs up hitchhiking roaming from highway to highway across America eating apple pie diners more gas stations restrooms and gas stations big rig trucks with 18,000 wheels growing through the symphony of pavement High on meth and feta means so that sleep doesn’t come tonight but the bigger paycheck does cops and blue uniforms the ones that talk to neighbors and no the town maybe somewhere in Iowa like that place Hansberry lives the kind of town you take your New York Matt wife to and raise a family 34 dogs all with cancer and missing legs that live forever are like 900 years in people age who never read the Bible or pick it up until they’re in a church and it won’t offend anyone no one can get the wrong idea about them God liberals good liberals hate Trump are convinced that his election will end the world you know the type working a lifetime in office rooms and building up towards windows to look out while becoming a skeleton and sure as shit about American values and that half America doesn’t have them or or stupid The sort of folks who find everyone but themselves dumb or stupid just because just because.

This guy needs a new tag on the American dream something without all the apple pie dad coming home to cook dinner obedient mom who pops benzo’s and never fucks anyone Who lives in a different neighborhood or doesn’t know their lawn or has an old car or drives a truck with make America great again stickers and a friendly smile when greeting strangers who work behind counters or have shitty jobs or are perceived to be judged like they themselves feel judged by the America with real values who judge everybody who decide no one can have a good intention if they watch Fox News or have good things to say about the party of Trump or if they are conspiracy theory rest and say things like Alex Jones shouldn’t be allowed allowed to be censored because generations of our ancestors died laid down their lives for the right to have freedom of speech people who say things like I don’t care if you say vaccines don’t harm anyone everything affects everyone including injecting mercury various poisons cocktails of chemicals created by pharmaceutical companies like Purdue Pharma who told all the doctors to start prescribing Oxsee cotton nonaddictive Oxsee cotton because it’s not addictive no one gets addicted to it just like every facts and nation vaccination is totally homeless homeless harm this

Before I even started it man I was like this guy needs a new take on the American dream that was even before the poem started talking about the American dream and I got it the dead American dream night we were sold the world different than the world we live in but you need a new take on it a better take

Why don’t you write a poem and include hope in it

This American dream has no hope.

You need to have hope in an American dream if you’re going to have one otherwise what’s the point right

to which I thought in response

my question exactly

[zozammer]

Rejection

Yet to receive a rejection letter from an Ivy League that I’ve always dreamed of going to, but frankly I’m all about aiming medium.

I’ve never been loved by a man. 

I talk about love a lot because there seems to be a sparseness and thus, a curiosity. Others will argue that there’s no such thing as true love or love, and we’re all just bundles of neurons amassed in a lug of a body, chemically reacting to procreate and sometimes really liking the activity... Assholes. None of you want that, you just say it to yourselves because you want to aim medium.

I would talk about my rejection by my faculty, bosses, and peers for my professional personality and style of working or just non-working (This is not true - everyone can work. You have to figure out how to make them work.) But oddly, these rejections don’t matter to me. Because somewhere, I still believe in myself.

Rejection by men and boys alike though, that’s been a determinant of my happiness for a long time. Safe to say, on most occasions I have always been dumped. And I don’t really blame them because I’m not well adjusted, and I am deeply anxious to be in human relationships. They freak me out. Everything about it, um. The longevity of such, how to have fun, things to do, how to be happy, how to keep the tide going, the spark up, be cool, make them think you’re cool - just a bunch of things that I have no answers for.

Rejection hits me very hard inside.

I’ve always appreciated the ones who let me down gently as I seemed to gracefully exit. As for the ones, who left me in shambles, I thank them for clarity and transformation. And the ones who thought I was not worth it, thank you for making me question why. I’ve been trying to work on that and also understand that I don’t have to conform to your version of a human experience.

For those who assumed I was stupid, or ditzy, or childish, or not cool enough, or a molester. 

- Yeah - one dude even called me a molester, because of one night when I was really drunk and heartbroken. The guy I was in love with for two years chose someone else, and I was looking to move on. And I got aggressive when I was drunk, and I hit on this guy who I genuinely crushed on for a while. He was funny and cute; I was desperate to get on with my life and retain my swag. Unfortunately, lol. I got thirsty. And thus, not so classy.

Don’t care about it now, but this is one of the few examples of my psychotic behaviour as a result of my deep insecurity regarding love and being enough. Which is why I don’t indulge and take things forward ever, because I know deep down inside, that I am still working hard on my progress as a person. And I am not ready for anything like a three legged race.

(I also hate the standards that men put on women to “be”; it feels very foreign to my original make, and I don’t want to comply for the sake of getting some. I am inherently a non conformist, I don’t believe and follow many of the rules of courtship. I don’t want to change.)

- Another pivotal rejection in my life, was an ex of mine, who basically made me feel like I was worthless, crazy, unpretty - but it wasn’t his fault. I wanted him to love me so badly as I loved him. But he didn’t and he couldn’t, because I didn’t love myself. It was very hard but I always cherished him for choosing me when I was a total loser and didn’t think I was capable of being loved. The odds were very much stacked against us. He was all about being normal and fancy, and I am not about that. Also I’m not exactly an expert on love; I don’t know anything actually lol.

-  I’ve also been rejected by dudes I was never into. Yeah, men tend to think you’re into them pretty quickly. It’s quite amusing.

What Rejection and these moments have taught me though, is that I am legit crazy. Not saying it’s good or bad. It’s something that I’m working on even though I don’t really feel like I need to... Feel like men could diversify? lol. 

I don’t feel good that I lost. It doesn’t feel great to know that it was and wasn’t my fault. But, it did give me a clue into what I needed to fix.

Sometimes you’re an asshole, and you have to work it through. And sometimes, you’re never going to be that person’s type no matter how much you change. Because you are always going to be a snowflake (unique and shit) and that person has got to love you for who you are, and where you’re at in life. 

... Also, don’t try so hard.

Rejection moulds you and with a little insight and humility, transforms you for the better - always. What parts you didn’t know were broken and now maybe definitely need fixing. It tests your strength to see how much you can take and how much you can fight. 

That, or it helps you get to the bottom of the causes so that you can see yourself and maybe, not change for anyone. Not doubt yourself and not transfer the belief system into your own body. And take you to your own unique path, with the whole of you intact.

I wasn’t and am still struggling with the ability to let shit go so that I can move on and not define myself by my failures. Rejection is good practice of learning this skill. 

I wonder if I’ll ever get the cocktail right, but I’m happy that I tried and failed. I’m happy that I have stories even if I’m not an emerging victor, I’m happy for the few moments of bliss around my turbulent insides and pieces of love that I’ve shared with men over the years. I’m not one for relationships yet, but it’s been quite a ride getting to know this sex haha. :P

Thank you my list of attractive men. You have helped this baby grow the fuck up. And sorry if you think I’m into you, I lean forward because I’m a bit uncomfortable with leaning back completely on a chair.

[blackbatpurplecat]

My Thoughts on “Batmobile: Arkham Tank”

Some also call it Batman: Arkham Knight, the big finale to the Arkham series that had clearly peaked two games ago.

Holy moly, what a rollercoaster ride from FABULOUS over FRUSTRATING to FANTASTIC to FUCK THIS SHIT.

Yup, I know. I’m super late to the party but please remember, the (complete) game’s price started at 90 bucks AND it was absolutely unplayable on PC for the longest time.

It’s also the first game I’ve ever ragequit and then watched the ending on YouTube because fuck. that. game.

Warning: SPOILERS ahead!

Strap in, kittybats, this is gonna be a looong one.

So if you either haven’t played it yet or if you need to refresh your memory, what’s the story?

Scarecrow is back! He didn’t do a great job at reconstructing his face but a fantastic job at perfecting his fear gas (and stealing Hugo Strange’s voice). He threatens to release the gas in Gotham which leads to people evacuating the city. The remaining cops of the GCPD are being terrorized by thugs and goons working for Scarecrow, Two-Face, Penguin, Harley Quinn, and a newly introduced villain: The Arkham Knight.

With the help of Oracle, who’s situated at the Gotham Clock Tower, Batman traces Scarecrow to ACE Chemicals. Crane has turned the entire factory into a gigantic fear gas bomb and is able to flee before Bats can take him down. The bomb can’t be defused, however, Bats is able to reduce its radius of impact so it’s mostly him who gets exposed to it.

We find out that even though Batman had drunk the cure for Joker’s disease at the end of Arkham City, he’s still infected for... some... reason that’s never explained. Fear gas and infected Joker blood is a dangerous cocktail so a life-like hallucination of the Joker materializes in front of Batman and keeps reappearing now and then to torment Bats with jokes and comments while Bats is running around the city.

There are also four more people who are still infected and locked up at one of the Batfamily’s hideouts where Robin’s working on a permanent cure. So far, only three of those infected are slowly turning into Joker while the 4th guy seems immune, giving Bats hope he might be the key to the cure.

Apparently, the Arkham Knight knows Batman really well and tips Crane off to kidnap Barbara since she’s working for Bruce. This forces Bats to confess to Gordon that his daughter’s been involved with vigilantism under Batsy’s care for years. An enraged Gordon breaks off their friendship and rushes off to find Babs himself. Yeah sure, good luck with that, Jim...

Back to the fear gas investigation, Batman and Nightwing interrogate Penguin and find out that Scarecrow had been working with a businessman named Stagg who tried to fuck Crane over and keep their invention, a dispersal device called Cloudburst, to himself. Of course, that didn’t end well. Bats tracks down Crane in an airship but gets gassed again while Scarecrow flees again.

The fear gas gives Joker control over Batman’s body for a short amount of time and adds another layer of urgency: If Bats can’t find a cure for the infection, Joker might take over his mind and body the same way he’s been taking over those other three innocent Gothamites.

Bats is able to find Barbara locked up at Crane’s hideout but she also got gassed. Her fear of Batman drives her to commit suicide. While mourning, Alfred informs Bruce that Crane now plans to release the fear gas via Cloudburst. There’s only one person who could help now - Poison Ivy. Batsy gets her out of prison and is able to recruit her for his plan. He finds an ancient and one-of-a-kind tree in Gotham that’s able to neutralize the gas so Ivy steps inside it to reactivate its strength.

More bad news are on the way when Bats finds out that Harley has broken into their hideout (because the Batfamily’s security system sucks, yeah that makes sense) and released the “Jokers.” Batman and Robin are able to recapture them all, even Harley. However, in a seriously well set up twist, the ONE dude who seemed immune to Joker’s blood is even more infected than the others and kills them. When he recognizes Joker in Batman’s eyes he also shoots himself, saying Batman will be the perfect Joker once the transformation is complete.

Robin’s quite concerned to find out about Batsy’s state and asks him to lock himself up until the game’s over but Bruce says NOPE and locks Tim up instead. Bruce couldn’t stand losing another Robin so he wants to spare Tim a similar fate that Jason Todd had to endure. You all know that story. Gee, I wonder why they bring it up all of the sudden...

So FINALLY the freaking Cloudburst is activated and douses the entire city in heavy fear gas. It’s too much for Ivy and the one-of-a-kind tree but thank God for deus ex machinas, there’s another tree, making them two-of-a-kind trees, that could help fight the gas. Batsy finds it, Ivy wakes it, the trees spread some kind of pretty pollen and the gas is neutralized. Unfortunately, it was too much for Ivy and she dies (and decomposes) in Batman’s arms.

We find out Gordon’s been kidnapped because DUH so Batsy tracks him down in the Arkham Knight’s hideout underground. The Knight takes off his mask to reveal a “““““tWiSt””””” everyone knew was coming after watching the first trailer of the game - he’s Jason fucking Todd who’s pissed at Bruce for not knowing he’s been alive all those years and just replacing him with Tim, and now wants to kill him. Bruce however wants to welcome Jason back with open arms which is too much feels for the ruthless assassin so Jason flees. Wow. How anticlimactic. Bats frees Gordon and they go to face Scarecrow at the top of a building.

Crane reveals in yet another twist you absolutely saw coming that Babs is still alive (so Babs killing herself was a result of Bats getting gassed - but how did Scarecrow know what Bats was seeing when he was under the influence???) and Gordon had made a deal with Crane to keep her that way. Jim shoots Bats in the armored chest, Scarecrow throws Babs OVER THE EDGE, Bats saves her and takes her to the GCPD.

After making sure that Jason’s goons don’t destroy the Bat servers, Bats is informed that not only Gordon but also Robin’s been now kidnapped by Crane. A kidnapped Robin, what a shocker... To save their lives, Batman drives to the ruins of Arkham Asylum where Crane, his hostages, and a camera are waiting. Crane tells Gordon to remove Batman’s mask in front of the camera which is broadcasting live on TV. Bats is okay with being unmasked and the big reveal BRUCE WAYNE IS BATMAN sends news reporters into a frenzy.

Crane injects more fear toxin into Bruce which brings out the Joker in him. Another dose, however, brings forth Joker’s worst fear: being forgotten. Batman’s mind and Joker’s mind begin fighting. Of course, Batman’s is stronger than Joker’s; Bats locks Joker up in his subconscious and regains control over his body. Bats gives Scarecrow a taste of his own toxin and takes a frightened Crane back to GCPD.

With the Batman’s identity uncovered, BATMAN IS DEAD as the intro of the game had promised. Ehm yeah, if you say so... Bats activates the Knightfall Protocol. He says goodbye to Selina, Dick, and Jim while finishing a few more side quests. Then he flies home where reporters are already waiting. Alfred welcomes him back, they close the front door, and Wayne Manor blows up.

If you had enough patience to collect >240 Riddler trophies, you’ll get the TRUE ENDING of the game:

Time has passed. Gotham is safer now, Gordon’s mayor, Babs and Tim (WTF?!?!?!) are getting married, and somewhere in Gotham, two thugs who are trying to rob a family in a back alley are being scared shitless by a huge nightmarish Batman figure.

THE END

What the actual huh?!

That was it?! THAT was the grand finale to the Arkham series?! I mean we all knew he wouldn’t die because people rarely have the balls to actually kill Batman off. You can say “This is how The Batman died” dozens of times but you’ll never convince me that you’ll actually kill him. Killing his name, his reputation, his identity, his secret, that’s just a cheap cop-out! And I realized how the game would end wayyy too early.

You built up a story so complex that you didn’t even see the plot holes anymore, you had three twist of which only ONE was good and it wasn’t even the last one, and fans didn’t even understand the true ending, yet you decided that THAT would be your huge finale and goodbye?! Lame, Rocksteady, seriously. I had expected much more.

Speaking of which:

Before the game came out, Rocksteady had proudly announced to have come up with an original character, a new piece on Gotham’s chessboard. A young man in a reddish suit who has a past with Batman, knows his identity and how he operates, and keeps calling him ‘old man.’ GEEEE, I WONDER WHO THAT IS!!!!! Yeah, it’s Jason. Woah, what a shocker. I had really hoped for something good, I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt but NOPE, it’s the same old spiel. They didn’t even try to make his identity subtle, you know it’s Jason after his first line. And what a letdown their confrontation was. Wow, a stealth mission. And then Jason just runs away. He only shows up one last time to help Bruce at the end. Why?! You really want to tell me that after years of hating Bruce with an undying passion, recruiting hundreds of men, building dozens of tanks, and building a huge-ass drill (where the fuck did Jason get the money for all that?!), all Bruce had to do was say “sorry bro” and everything was forgotten?! That was how you resolve the conflict with one of the 2 main villains in the game?! Wow. Just... just wow.

So Knight is about Batman trying to find a cure for a Joker poison in his blood while a villain who knows Bats’ identity plans to take down a city that has only thugs in it? Is it just me or does that sound AWFULLY familiar...?! Rocksteady, you’re SO cReAtIvE.

Also the ending SUCKS!!! So Bruce makes the world believe that he and Batman are dead now. Do you even know what that means? That means Bruce and Alfred will spend the rest of their days in a Batcave without any connection to the outside world. Their family think they’re dead. So Bruce dooms Alfred to a life of isolation (cruel!!!) and gives up the “normal” half of his life to be Batman full-time. Something even the comics have established before as a fucking stupid idea!!! Bruce is NOT only Batman! Why can’t those damn fanboys pull their heads out of their asses and accept that Bruce is both Bruce Wayne AND Batman! He can’t be only one or the other; each side needs the other to exist! It’s just so fucking dumb!

After bashing the story, let’s get to bashing the gameplay:

Do Rocksteady hate their fans? Was Knight their revenge on every single fan who had said “I wish we could drive the Batmobile” in the past? Because that would explain a lot. While designing the game, they were probably thinking “Oh you complain that you don’t have the Batmobile? We’ll give you the Batmobile! Here you have the Batmobile!” That ugly tank no one’s able to handle because of the sluggish controls is just a huge FUCK YOU to gamers.

They completely overdid it. Way too many tank missions, way too many racing quests, WAY TOO MANY!!! The Batmobile missions always stopped the flow of the game, only felt tedious and turned into a boring chore. And if you weren’t tanking around, you had to solve lever puzzles to get your tank from point A to point B.

And as if the side quests weren’t average enough (the boss fights were kind of a letdown in general, especially after having played Origins), the fucking tank spoiled them even more. Remember the epic Firefly fight in Origins? In Knight, you have to race after him a few times. Done. Remember the epic Deathstroke fight in Origins? In Knight, you have to blow up his tanks (racing), take down militia towers (sometimes tank), and defuse bombs (tank), and then Batsy takes him out with one punch in a cutscene. Done. Also more tanks in the Freeze mission. And don’t get me started on ALL THE TANK MISSIONS in the main story!!!

One of the worst filler missions was “follow Gordon to the Clock Tower”: After driving 5 meters, there are more tanks, and once those are defeated, Gordon enters the Batmobile. Why the flying fuck couldn’t Gordon get in right at the start?!

The biggest joke was the Riddler mission. The puzzles were fine but WHYYY the race tracks??? How is a race track a riddle?! Nothing could be further related to Riddler than racing! What the fuck, seriously, what the fuck???

The constant forced use of the Batmobile made it hard for me to get the feeling that I was playing a Batman game. If I want a racing game, I buy a racing game. I did NOT want Need For Speed in my Batman game! Whoever decided to put THAT much Batmobile shit into the game deserves to be slapped in the face with a Joker fish. And the tank fight against Jason towards the end was the reason I quit. FUCK! THAT! FIGHT! FUCK! IT! HARD!

And the obligatory PC complaint: You sell a fucking expensive piece of shit that doesn’t run on PCs, you release patches that don’t help, and then you just say “oops sorry” before never working on improving the game again. Thanks. Also a huge thanks for fucking up the keyboard optimization. In City, we only had to tap one key for special moves, in Knight, it’s several keys we surely have the attention for in an engaging fight. And why did you change the order of the Bat gadgets?!

Alright, after such a long rant, I don’t want to leave out what I genuinely liked about the game:

For the most part, the voice-acting was perfect. There were tiny duds here and there but I don’t blame the voice-actors for those but the directors and/or the people who decided to use those takes for the game.

Kevin Conroy and Mark Hamill are simply THE best team out there. There’ll be no one else ever ever who’ll be able to capture Batman and Joker so perfectly like they do. And while I love Mark to death and I think the Arkham Joker is the best Joker period, I still think “yeah, how do you bring the best actor and the best villain back after killing him off? oh I know! make him a hallucination! cop-out!” Joker showing up again and again was absolutely not necessary and didn’t add anything story-wise but I’m happy they did it because it’s Mark and he was THE BEST PART of the game.

Some side quests were fascinating! The level design for the last Mad Hatter stage was beautiful (Origins was better though). The entire case for Professor Pyg was bone-chilling! At first, I was like “what’s with the buildup? I know it’s Hush, just get on with it” but then Hush had another side quest and I began to wonder where the first case was going. Its ending was so dark, so fucked up, so creepy, I absolutely fucking LOVED it!!!

The one quest everyone will forever remember is the one featuring Mr. Freeze! Oh boy, that was perfect writing right there! It was nice to see that Freeze hadn’t forgotten that Batsy helped him in City and asked him again to find his kidnapped wife. What I 110% had not expected was that they would bring Nora back to life! I sat there, transfixed and so happy that after all those years, they finally gave Nora a voice and more character. She stepped out of the position of a MacGuffin and became real. The ending to that quest... The dialogue, the music, the visuals. I almost cried. You can’t write a better ending to their sad and bitter-sweet love story.

The relationship between Batman and Catwoman was also written very well. You immediately notice that he talks to her in a very different way. To everyone else, friends and foes alike, he’s serious, tight-lipped, monosyllabic. With Selina however he actually engages in chit-chat. And when Selina worried about him going after Scarecrow, her soft voice made my heart sing. At the end of the stupid Riddler quest, we finally got a hot BatCat kiss. Okay, it all ended with Bruce saying farewell and them never seeing each other ever again but that’s due to the dumb finale. (One question though: If you finish the quest before the end of the game, how does Selina know that Batman is Bruce?!)

Almost finished, here are just some more additional thoughts on the game in general:

The feature of switching from character A to character B during a fight sequence was awesome, I loved that! As well as the ability to use your surroundings in a fight. Why not put that in more?!

The “recreate a crime scene” moments were cool and I would have loved more of them because, well.... Batman is A FUCKING DETECTIVE, NOT A NASCAR DRIVER!

The DLCs were nice but rather short. The Red Hood DLC completely spoiled who the Arkham Knight was though. And Jason handling guns made me ask myself why he was still using his fists.

The Batgirl mission was good! It was great to see Harley in her original outfit, Babs and Tim worked well together even though he wanted to have her out of harm’s way too often. And the backstory of the park which you could learn about via recordings was wonderfully dark. SO dark.

Writing Babs and Tim as a couple was idiotic. Why was that change made? You had Dick in the game, why didn’t you just use the canon couple?! Changing Dick to Tim had no influence on the story so why do it?!

Seeing Bats and Babs interact without any forced sexual shit was beautiful!

THOSE MOTHERFUCKING MAN-BAT JUMP SCARES!!!!!! WHY???? My heart almost exploded!!!!!!!!!!

Giving Scarecrow Hugo Strange’s voice was cheap. Whenever he made an announcement, I felt like I was back in City. Don’t remind me of a better game I could be playing instead, Knight...

Catwoman’s purple suit from the 90s was a skin you could use!!! I LOVE HER SO MUCH!!! SHE’S SO BEAUTIFUL!!! Yeah, I know, it was a modified Batgirl skin but SHE WAS STILL SO BEAUTIFUL!

After the buildup in City, Azrael and his Order were another letdown.

After the buildup in City, Hush was another letdown (even though the reveal was pretty cool and Conroy’s voice-acting was SO AWESOME!). You have a villain that looks like your hero in a story about how the hero is revealed to be a vigilante. Why not USE the villain for something, ANYTHING?! And if you finish the mission AFTER the game’s end, how come Hush doesn’t know who Batman is?!

Why put a normal firefighter into one cell with Gotham’s worst criminal scum?!

Stop trying to convince us that Bruce loved an insane maniac who wants to kill millions of people.

The Ra’s al Ghul mission was intriguing however! I did not know who was killing his followers until the reveal and the decision at the end of the quest was a great dilemma! It had no influence on the game but I liked how it made the player think.

You made me feel pity for Killer Croc! How dare you! Plus there was a moment, when you’re in a duct underneath a freaking HUGE Killer Croc and the game told you to take him down. I was just looking at that gigantic monster and thought NOPE, CAN I PLEASE LEAVE?!

I still prefer the less realistic designs of the characters from the first games. Their expressions were less stoic and their eyes were less dead.

The goons’ conversations were a riot again!

JOKER’S SONG NUMBER!!! HOLY SHIT YES!!!

The designs of the race tracks were fantastic! While I think Rocksteady dropped the ball with gameplay and story, the level designs were marvelous!

The photo mode was a really cool feature!!!

I highly appreciate the creators’ love for detail. There’s an entire video about the easter eggs in Arkham Knight and it’s TWO FREAKING HOURS long! That’s a level of dedication I respect!

To close this up, I doubt I’ll return to this game very soon, if ever. I loved Asylum, I can play City in my sleep, I enjoyed Origins and do not understand the hate it gets, but Knight? Nah.

It’s the Batmobile that breaks this game’s back. Rocksteady simply didn’t know when to stop or how to work it in well. The tanks and racing quests kill the Batman-y atmosphere every single time and get old extremely quick. Those parts become monotonous and repetitive, and the worst crime is that fighting tanks and drones side-lines the actual villains you’d much rather fight.

I can forgive lame boss battles, I can forgive plot holes, but if the gameplay isn’t fun, I will not replay the story, no matter how well it’s written. A game’s supposed to entertain me, not frustrate me into leaving it for days (which happened twice before I quit).

Do I recommend Arkham Knight? If you like car races and shooting games, yes. If not, watch a playthrough on YouTube. It pains me to say that this Batman game, the big finale to an amazing series, only goes downhill after the opening cutscene.

[s-tick]

Break-in

New non-fiction by Rachael Ikins

It was all my fault, the nervous breakdown, the tossed salad of diagnoses and medications that followed and left me a confused stumbling mess for ten years. My family made that clear to me by abandoning me to my elderly ailing husband “because he is a doctor,” and of course, he would know why I was so angry and knew what to do about it.

“We didn’t know what to do” was a later refrain. Furious at my behavior, my obesity and my drug-induced allegiance to the therapist who was treating me they raged at me. Rather than band together to reach out to my husband to help, they abandoned me. I was truly alone.

My husband had no idea what to do. He was a surgeon–act and cut–not a psychiatrist. All he knew was that the “treatment plan” was making me sicker and sicker as relatives got drunk at cocktail parties without us. Because some of the medications acted adversely on the parts of my brain that create inhibitions and control, I couldn’t stop spending money. I couldn’t stop eating. I was in a constant state of fight-or-flight, wanting to hit the road with my cat in a carrier running away from…something.

Instead, a new psychiatrist and the original therapist’s retirement resulted in my getting off the stew of drugs. I almost died. What I was left with was a combination of side effects and adverse reactions that the doctor had no experience with. My mind, however, was suddenly clear. I looked around me one day, and I sobbed. Memories long suppressed by chemicals flooded back.

I shambled stubbornly behind the vacuum cleaner to learn to walk again, and waved long chef’s knives around as I relearned to cook. Nutrition and the order of recipes, therapy for a healing brain.

My former sister-in-law said, “I told your brother that therapist is not doing your sister any favors.”

When my mother and I finally reunited, her comment, “Oh, they did you dirty.”

Did me dirty? They almost killed me. I had seizures and heart rhythm disruptions the night of that last dose and was unconscious as my husband lay beside me making a decision not to call an ambulance because, “They would’ve just put you back on all that shit. I knew you would make it.”

Six months later, the one cat I could not live without, the cat I’d wanted to run away with, died unexpectedly. I had insomnia. An hour of sleep a week was about it. She used to sleep with me and without her, the bed was a black hole. My only emotions were rage and grief. Truly I had much to feel that way about.

A year after my cat’s death, because my husband lied every time I asked him, “Are we going to lose our house? Are we going to lose our house?” I found myself alone in his investment counselor’s office where a busy-body assistant bustled out to tell me our money was gone. Her predatory grin and twinkling eyes kept me upright on the couch even though my vision went black for a minute.

When I stumbled to the car, I screamed so loudly my vocal cords were injured. Phillip’s unbelievable solution was to ask my mother for money. Within eight months we sold our house and lost the majority of the contents. We ended up in a small, poorly made camp halfway up the side of a mountain, a forty-five minute drive from where we began married life.

According to my family, all of this was my fault and my husband, the innocent victim. It is not self-pity or unwillingness to own my mistakes that I write this. It suited them to blame me. Only one person apologized years later and with the rest there is no relationship.

It’s a wonder how a thirty-five year old woman who wanted to get pregnant, was instead, drugged and used by a professional who planned to become the second “Sybil’s” shrink, did not die.

My life spiraled into a decade of darkness. At forty-five I “woke up” only to take two of the worst hits since my dad’s death, Nestlé’s loss and the house we were married in over twenty years ago. To be told by those who should have had an ounce of common sense, that I was responsible. Hurt, shame, anger set in. I would have given anything to go back in time, for just one person who said they loved me to have stood up for me.

The new house was surrounded by woods and fields. Since we’d lived in the city not far from the hospital complex when my husband was working, I had not been surrounded by wilderness like that of my childhood family camp for many decades.

It was a hard life. Not quite poor enough for food stamps, but poor enough to run out of food one March, I cut firewood from dead trees for heat. Raided piggy banks to pay for my husband’s heart medicine.

One bitter winter evening, I went to the barn for wood. As I grabbed some logs I thought, “I’m having a nervous breakdown.”

I ran into the trees and fell in the snow. I was so angry. So much had happened, life literally turned upside down, faster than my damaged nervous system could absorb it. I lay in the snow looking up at uncaring stars and thought, “Go ahead. Have your breakdown. Nobody gives a shit. No shrink, no relative. You have lives in the house that need you. So, get it over with and pick up that wood.”

My former therapist had a way of triggering anger in me. Then she’d tell me how awful my anger was. The more she abused me with chemicals and her training, the angrier I became, unable to defend myself, lost in a sea of drug interactions. This moment in the snow, after all that had happened, was the first time I realized: anger is not bad—mine was justified. Anger also is a flame that sustains. I got up and went in to stoke the stove.

The next day our nearest neighbor’s son was going to install a new door for us. I remember how cold the day was. He let me help with the nail gun, but my bare fingers quickly numbed. The next morning he finished which brings me to this moment:

“Lunch is ready.” Phillip’s voice floats from below me. The back door slams behind him. I stare into the horizontal snow pecking at my face. Last night ice dammed on the flat living room roof. A lagoon blossomed as heat leaked through. Water poured in at 10:00 p.m. I am on the roof, hammer in hand to pound the ice.

I’ve been hammering awhile now: my shoulders cramp, right hand aches with lactic acid buildup. Each time the head of the tool connects with the thick ice, pain jolts up into my shoulder, neck and head.

Hot and sweaty despite the weather. A two inch channel is all I’ve created, but enough for water to sluice to the ground. If only it would stop snowing. Phillip worries I will fall.

I imagine my relatives clustered around my casket. Their polite murmurs of, “What a shame it was, she never amounted to anything. That silly poetry stuff.”

I don’t disown my part in our circumstance, but I did not deserve that abuse. My fantasy encourages me to be careful if only for spite.

I move crab-wise across the ice, my half-frozen sweatpants chafe my skin. Only a tee-shirt on top, sopping with sweat and melting snow. I scrub snow out of my eyes with my right fist, hammer stuck to my hand. I roll onto my belly, feel for the ladder with numb feet.

I ease down one rung at a time. My husband puts his arm around me as we head for the back door. I’m glad we’ve just replaced the old one.

The knob won’t turn. Maybe my hand is just weak. No, it is locked.

“Phillip, you have the key?”

He pats his cotton shirt pockets and his jeans.

“No. I forgot.”

My husband has had 3 heart attacks, stents and quadruple bypass. He is slender and frail. It didn’t occur to him to prop the door, that it would automatically lock.

My first thought: 20 degrees out, a northwest wind blasting horizontal snow, have to get him inside. I race to the barn, our car. Locked, too. Keys, cell phone in kitchen.

We can see our breath in the dimness of the barn.

“I’m going to have to go for help.”

“Look inside these boxes, maybe there is an old jacket or something.”

I root through the packing boxes piled there from last September’s move. Paper, pots, no jackets, nothing but a ripped, stained beach towel. He insists I take it.

“Stay in here.” He shivers in his cotton shirtsleeves.

I trudge down the driveway towel around my shoulders. I can barely. I slip and fall, skin my elbows raw. I sob out loud, “FUCK!” drag myself out of the drift as I yank the damp towel on my shoulders. If I am bleeding, I can’t feel it. I hate everyone in this moment.

Should I go up the hill or down? The nearest neighbor lives over a quarter of a mile away. I head uphill into the blizzard. Every third step I slide, my sneakers full of slush. Frozen hair icicles clink against my glasses, lenses so covered I can’t see much. I wonder if I will die of exposure. Fuck that. I have to save Phillip.

I pray no snow plow hurtles out of the squall. No jump to safety; drop-off on one side of the road, a head-high drift on the other.

A surge of anger heats my middle. Really, God?

Just then I think I hear the sound of an engine over the howling wind. I stand still.

Yeah, it is a vehicle. I step out onto where I think the crown of the road is, snow up to my thighs. Behind me, woods. Ahead, state forest.

A dirty white Jeep coalesces from a cloud. Oh. It’s the letter carrier! Shit! She acts like she doesn’t see me. I step right in front of her. I look bizarre, a ghost in a blue and green beach towel. She grinds to a halt.

I lean in a window.

“We’re locked out of our house. My husband has heart disease. He’ ll die. Can you help us?” I point down the road.

She digs her cell phone out of a pile of mail in a box on the passenger floor. My heart leaps. Our eyes meet as she punches 911. Her eyes widen.

“Battery’s dead. I’m so sorry!”

Oh. I drop my head. “Thanks.”

I face the wind. “It’s you or me, fucker.” The storm swallows the sound of her engine in seconds. The wind whistles, tugs away my body heat. Our closest neighbor lives on the left side of the road. Must be halfway.

Bowing my head I pull the towel to shield my face, and slog on. Out of the gloom I make out the shape of a maple tree. Leaves were brilliant red last fall. Roy’s house is close. Wonder if Julie is home. They introduced themselves last October.

I stumble and stagger toward the house like a drunk. Her vehicle is parked in front of the garage. I lift one foot up the porch stairs. My fingers slip off the railing ice. I raise a hand to knock or press the doorbell when the door opens inward, and I fall into the heat of their house with the momentum.

Soon we are bundled in her truck, skidding down the hill to rescue Phillip. She drives us back to her house. Hot coffee and wood stove heat brings roses to his cheeks. Julie phones a friend to see if he can help. His name is John, a retired fire fighter. She lends me parka, boots, hat and gloves for the journey back down the hill. We crunch around the yard’s perimeter. Even the upstairs bedroom windows are locked. We could’ve maybe gotten the ladder from the barn and climbed up there to open one. John doesn’t shame me, simply assesses the situation. It occurs to me that maybe everything is not my fault. Maybe others feel guilt for their behavior. Maybe sometimes shit just happens.

Finally John grabs a screw driver from his truck, pries the storm door out of its track and kicks in the front door, the shreds of my notion of security blasted open by a single blow.

Later hunched over a hot chocolate in front of the fire, my husband safe and bundled up with a book, I feel gratitude for the rage that stoked me and kept my feet hiking up that hill into an unknown. Anger can consume the user, no doubt, but as a tool used with care, like fire, it can save your life.

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