#morgan: BITE! MAIM! KILL!

[fiannalover]

Morgan & Habetrot Violence Moments

[darkh0wl]

Where is your body? || Kyle, Mina, Morgan, and Nell (ft. Bex)

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable, @mor-beck-more-problems, @nelllraiser, @darkh0wl, @inbextween SUMMARY: They say waking up is the hardest part. Kyle faces the consequences of his actions. Bex faces the reality that is the supernatural world. CONTENT: PTSD mentions, sibling death mention, parental death mention

Instead of staying around to fret over Bex while Nell Vural did… whatever it was that Nell Vural did (because apparently she could heal people from debilitating injuries), Mina opted to wait in the basement with Morgan and Kyle the werewolf who seemed to enjoy maiming young girls in back alleys. She didn’t find him all that impressive, personally, nothing like the three-legged wolf, nothing like the creatures that she’d watched her dad face down. He’d faded back to nothing more than a boy, an injured boy, a boy that Mina could put a knife or a crossbow bolt through his throat and let bleed out on the basement floor. She sat cross-legged near him, a silver knife resting in her lap, and she tried not to shrink against Morgan’s judgement. “It’s just in case he decides to wolf out again,” she muttered. She wasn’t actually going to stab him. Probably. She kept looking to the stairs, to the knife, to the wolf, to Morgan, to the stairs. “Do you think-- I mean, Nell would tell us if-- He didn’t-- She’s okay, right? Right?” Because Mina was a little worried. She was worried that she hadn’t stitched Bex up right, and she was worried that they hadn’t arrived in time, and she was worried that there would be nothing Nell could do. She was worried. She was so worried.

“He’s not going to wolf out again,” Morgan said, taking a sip of four-shot espresso to tame the urge to roll her eyes at the girl. “He can barely do anything. And if he did, what’s he gonna do, bite me back to life?” She rotated on her toes and started pacing again. She’d spent a few hours in bed with Deirdre, but with Bex and Nell down the hall and Mina and Kyle below, she couldn’t keep still no matter what she tried. So, basement pacing it was. “Nell would tell us. If she thought she wasn’t up to it, she’d say, and we’d be dragging some other spellcaster over here to help. Bex is like family to her. And nothing matters more to Nell Vural than her family.” Another gulp of espresso. The more she took into her mouth, the longer she held it burning on her tongue, the more she got to taste. Morgan swallowed. “So until we hear otherwise, Bex is fine and is going to make a full recovery. She might be walking around the house by later tonight.  And Teen Wolf over there isn’t a threat until we get a good reason out of him. Bex wants him to have a chance, so he gets one. And if it turns out he’s done something incredibly stupid…” She would what, exactly? Morgan slowed her pace until she stopped near the far wall and pressed her back against it. “We’ll find some wolves to turn him over to. Or a bus to throw him on.”

“They’re still dangerous even when injured,” Mina said, but her heart wasn’t particularly in it. She’d had time to kill the wolf if she’d really put her mind to it. She’d been too busy pacing and watching and not sleeping, and she almost asked Morgan if she could have some of her coffee, but that wouldn’t do anything more than make her even more jittery, so she just stayed seated, fingers drumming against her knees. “Right, okay, right.” And of course Nell Vural was a spellcaster. Mina was always so surprised when she was proven wrong, even though it kept happening. In her defense, though, Nell sounded like a hunter. At least, more than most people that Mina talked to. She didn’t expect spellcasters to go out and hunt down bounties. She narrowed her eyes. “Saying that he’s not a threat is both reckless and untrue, Morgan. Even if she’s fine, he still hurt her, and she almost--” Mina wrung her hands. “I don’t understand. He almost killed her.” Mina looked over to the sleeping wolf, just an unintimidating creature. “What would a bunch of other werewolves do? Slap him on the back? Tell him congratulations?” That wasn’t fair. She knew that wasn’t fair. There were good werewolves. That boy in the mushroom ring had just been a little naive, and Ari was good. Mina didn’t understand why she was so upset about this. It was irrational.

Nell remembered teaching Bex how to harness the emotions that threatened to overtake her as she worked on the younger witch, trying to remind herself how important it was to make sure she heeded her own words at a time like this as she closed Bex’s wounds. But the emotions were like a restless sea inside her gut, anger mixed with a sickening worry that reminded her far too much of another time she’d desperately tried to heal a part of her family, her hands and powers useless when there hadn’t even been a head to be spoken for back then. She hadn’t wanted this for Bex. White Crest had a nasty way of sinking its claws into anything bright, anything good that dared to peek its head above the ground. The sleeping coma had been bad enough, sending Bex into a spiral or worry and fear. But this was different, this was something that could be touched, and touch Bex in return. That much was obvious by the now scabbed over claw marks running down Bex’s body. Nearly a year from Bea’s death, and Nell still couldn’t preemptively protect those she cared most for. “I’m sorry,” she managed to breathe between gritted teeth, trying not to lose herself in the images of the decapitated sister parading itself through her mind’s eye, sometimes taking it upon itself to replace the body with Bex’s frame. Forcing herself to stand, she took a moment to stretch out her legs, stiff from disuse after kneeling next to Bex for the long healing session. She hadn’t been able to protect Bex from her attacker before, but she could certainly make the effort to do it now.

The walk to where Kyle was being kept wasn’t lengthy, and along it she let the sorrow of her student’s injuries shift into anger, almost bleeding seamlessly into one another as she drew one of the silver knives she’d brought along. Her gaze was hard once more as she entered the room with Morgan and Mina, and the still unconscious wolf. “He’s not awake, yet?” she confirmed, taking a few steps towards the slumbering young man.

Gently twitching in his sleep, not unlike a sleeping dog, Kyle lay on the floor of the basement and dreamed. It was a bad dream that he couldn’t seem to wake up from. He watched in third person as he attacked Bex. He watched himself kill her right there beside the bar. He watched her die in Morgan’s arms. It wasn’t unlike dreams he used to have after his first shift. No, not dreams. Nightmares. In his nightmare, Kyle could hear voices off in the distance talking about how dangerous he was. He could hear them discussing if Bex was okay or not. He roused slightly, realizing that he’d heard those voices before; Morgan and Mina. But if they were talking, where was… Bex.

Almost immediately following Nell’s question, Kyle started trying to sit up. He was only half awake as he struggled to push himself into an upright position. He patted the ground, searching, and mumbled to himself, “Gotta— Bex, is she— is she—,” before he sank back down fully, panting. All that movement hadn’t been a wise move, because now his body felt awful. He groaned and curled in on himself, hugging his side.

“Gotta find— I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean—.” That wasn’t true, though, was it? At one point, Kyle had every intention of killing Bex. He would never lay a hand on her, or any one else, while human. But that didn’t matter, because he wasn’t human and he had. As he saw it, Bex was dead. The last thing he could remember was seeing Bex limp in Morgan’s arms, and the scent of her blood filling the car. Kyle had killed someone, and whatever happened to him now was well deserved. He closed his eyes again, breathing growing shaky. He wasn’t a wolf, he was a monster.

Morgan eyed Nell when she came in, trying to divine Bex’s condition from her face alone. But the girl just looked tired and shaken. “Is Bex…?” She asked quietly. She was breathing, she reminded herself. The last time she’d seen her, she was breathing, and she was fine, and this wasn’t like anything either of them had suffered. It wasn’t. It wasn’t.

Before Nell could answer, Kyle stirred and knocked himself around the floor. Heaving a deep breath, Morgan took the medkit out from the corner and the water bottle that was supposed to have been for Mina and knelt in front of him. “Slow down,” she said. “The only thing you have to do right now is sit up and sit still. All your dressings are coming undone now that you’re not a wild fucking animal.” That came out harsher than she’d thought it would. Morgan winced and tried to check her temper so she could at least try to give him the kind of care she’d want someone to give to Ari if something had gone this wrong for her. At least he looked guilty enough to know how reckless he’d been. She passed him the water bottle. “Drink this.” Then, as she started peeling away the loose bandages, she said, “It’s Kyle, right? You wouldn’t happen to remember what you and Bex were doing out at night on Amity Row, would you, Kyle? She almost bled out to death in that alley. It would really help if we knew what happened.”

Seeing Nell walk in forced Mina to her feet, the knife still on the floor beside her. It was fine, she figured. Truthfully, she wouldn’t need it to put her claws in Kyle’s throat and drag him out to the pool if she needed to do something, just hold him under and watch him struggle like the other wolf had, except she wouldn’t let this one go. She didn’t think she’d let this one go. Mina looked between Morgan and Nell, wondering if she even needed to say anything or if she should just wait. The look on Nell’s face didn’t scream that something was horribly, horribly wrong, so that had to count for something, right? That had to count for something, and that something had to mean that Bex was fine, and she was going to live, and this was going to be okay, and she didn’t need to worry about it, but she was probably going to keep worrying about it anyway, just for posterity’s sake, just in case.

And then Kyle was waking up, and then Morgan was talking to him in her soothing Morgan way, and then Mina was rolling her eyes because of course. Of course Morgan was going to… Morgan the situation. Mina looked at the boy with cold eyes, even if she felt something akin to sympathy for him. He genuinely seemed sorry. Sorry just wasn’t good enough, though. Not for this. “What she’s asking is if you remember why the hell you were in a back alley and somehow ended up carving into a human girl like she was a bloody piece of meat. Because that’s pretty important.”

“She’s alright,” Nell breathed in a way that spoke both of the relief she felt, and the weight she was simultaneously lifting from the shoulders of Morgan and Mina. The witch was nothing even remotely close to a healer apart from her ability to scab over injuries and stop blood loss, but she’s seen enough fatal wounds to be able to tell that Bex would make it. “Or as alright as she can be.” The witch’s jaw tightened to match her eyes as Morgan took a tone that was much gentler than Nell would have thought possible in a time such as this, and her anger simmered healthily below the tautness of her skin, her hand tightening around the knife in her hand as she spun it once. The light caught the blade in a flash as she stepped closer to Kyle, finding herself more in agreement with Mina’s words over Morgan’s. “It’s Kyle,” she confirmed for the older woman, knowing his face well from seeing it amongst the halls of her highschool. Kyle the kid who had spent far too much of his time flipping Yu-Gi-Oh cards in those very same halls, and Kyle the wolf who had seen fit to rip the witch’s student and friend to ribbons. “But yeah I’m pretty fucking curious about why you decided to nearly murder Bex.” Another step closer and Nell was taking a second knife from a hiding place somewhere within the folds of her shirt, letting it playfully join the other as she twirled them between her fingers. “So do you usually try and kill people in alleyways? You’re lucky you didn’t bite her.” Nell couldn’t remember how many times she’d carefully looked over Bex, combing for a bite that wasn’t there. “Otherwise you’d probably already be dead.”

Kyle gratefully accepted the water from Morgan, taking big gulps that left him coughing. Once he regained himself, he closed his eyes and breathed for a moment. Bex was alive. She was going to live. The weight that that announcement had taken off his shoulders was unbelievable. And yet, it removed absolutely none of the guilt that coiled in Kyle’s chest and settled deep in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he hadn’t killed Bex this time. But he had come damn close to it.

Now he was being questioned from three sides. What had they been doing? Kyle had been at work and then… “I work at the Bloody Stake,” he said. His voice was smaller than he anticipated. “I was at work. I— we— Bex and I have been in each other’s heads? I don’t know, I guess Bex is like— like a witch? Or something? You probably knew that already.” He looked to Nell for confirmation. He hadn’t completely known Nell was a spellcaster either. He figured if she had healed Bex, Nell was probably in on Bex’s abilities, then. He tried not to look at the knives she was holding. If Nell decided to do something with the knives, he wouldn’t even blame her, but the thought of what it would feel like being stabbed made his head spin.

“I didn’t. We— it’s been hard. It’s not easy when your head is always...full.” Kyle turned his gaze directly to Mina, locking eyes with her. “Bex is always thinking.” He grimaced as he pushed himself up into a seated position and pulled the blanket around himself tighter. Fuck, he was naked in a stranger’s basement, being interrogated for a probable attempted murder. Cool.

“She was panicking over something. A school assignment I think? I— it was a lot. I’m not usually, uh, out of control? It— I didn’t mean to— I— we were both panicking and I-I just needed to get out of the bar and I didn’t expect Bex to show up. That was so stupid, but I don’t even think she knew, you know? I don’t think she thought I was serious.” Kyle shook his head, losing his words for a moment. He couldn’t have told Bex he was a werewolf. But what if he had? Would she have still come for him? Would he be waking up in the forest somewhere? Or would he have simply killed someone else? He shook his head again, brows pulling together. He had to get that thought out of his head. Now wasn’t the time.

“I thought I had more control than that. It’s never happened— not like this.” He paused briefly to take a deep breath. It had happened before, but never because of a goddamn shared mind link. If they hadn’t been in each other’s heads, if they hadn’t been panicking, maybe it would’ve been different! His jaw clenched and Kyle closed his eyes. “I’ve been a wolf for five years and I’ve been learning it all on my own. I thought I was doing okay. I didn’t want this to happen.”

Morgan gave out a long sigh and sat back on her knees. Now not only could she not blame Kyle for everything, but she was mad at both of them. The antibiotic cream was still in her hand. She should get on that, and get some ice for all those bruises, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to lift her arms and keep helping, keep working like everything was fine in the wake of this supid, ridiculous, fucking mess. When she spoke again, her voice was low and sharp “You’re telling me--that you and Bex accidentally’d your way into a mental connection, and you knew she had spellcasting magic, and you didn’t think it was relevant to tell her you’re a werewolf? A lone, unguided, and unsupported werewolf!” Kyle needed more medical attention. From the looks of his bruising, he wasn’t going to be able to do much on his own. She unclenched her fists and let everything fall, flexed her fingers, and tried to find the willpower to pick them up again. “You didn’t think that might be useful in making informed decisions, like running after your ass into Amity Row? You didn’t think knowing something as vulnerable as her power might entitle her to knowing you sometimes turn into an animal with lethal capacities? Who could cut her off from her power forever and give her a whole new set of problems she didn’t ask for with one bite! Not once during however long this mind meld bullshit has been going on?” Her voice rose steadily with each question until she was yelling loud enough to hear herself bouncing off the walls.

Morgan grimaced and covered her mouth. She couldn’t be this kind of person. Not right now. Not ever. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying her hardest to strangle her anger into submission. “I’m sorry,” she said thickly. “I appreciate your situation. But I need you to realize just how many levels of reckless the two of you were being. You, especially. You’re lucky you’re not both dead.” She didn’t yell, but her last words still carried a bite. At least she could move her hands calmly again and slap the rest of the antibiotic stuff on his injuries.

There wasn’t really enough time for Mina to be grateful to Nell before she was listening to Kyle explain the situation. Which… was more perplexing than it was anything else. What did he mean that they’d been in each other’s heads? How did that happen? When did that happen? What did that mean? Why was he looking at her like that? She narrowed her eyes and looked away. “No, you’re right,” she told Morgan. “Five years? How the hell have you-- How did you find out about her spellcasting if she didn’t find out about your lycanthropy? Wouldn’t you think that would be a fair exchange of information?” Though, really, could Mina judge him for not giving up all his secrets? It’s not like she’d given up hers. She was getting a headache. She crossed her arms, almost wishing she’d picked up her knife but also glad she’d refrained. This boy was a child, even if he claimed to have five years of experience. He was scared and a child. “Clearly, you thought wrong.”

Nell didn’t bother granting Kyle the confirmation he sought from her, jaw hardened into a tight not as she stubbornly refused to give him anything so soon after the violence he’s caused. “You should have told us,” the witch hissed harshly, still having little empathy for the werewolf in front of her while Bex was in pieces. “You thought you had more control than that?” Again her knives spun dangerously in a movement not unlike an angry cat flicking its tail too and fro, ready to pounce. “And why should I believe you when you say it hasn’t happened before? We’re not stupid. We know what it's like for young wolves who were bitten and not born.” To think that Kyle hadn’t made any similar mistakes, especially with a lack of any sort of contact or instruction by other werewolves was...highly unusual for a species as volatile for a wolf. “I want you to tell me the truth,” she began, moving closer to Kyle to crouch beside him, and holding one of her silver blades close enough to the skin of his neck that it became uncomfortably toasty. “Is this a problem or not?” If it was...she knew what the correct course to take was with wolves that caused more harm than good.

“I didn’t know!” Kyle yelled, louder than he had expected. He couldn’t stop clenching and unclenching his jaw and swallowing thickly. He was willing himself not to cry right now. He wasn’t the center of attention--not really. This was about Bex and what he had done to her. He didn’t want, or need their sympathy. “I didn’t know,” he repeated, softer this time. “We were mind melding, or whatever, and--and Bex said she was going to ask Nell to help. I didn’t actually know Bex was a spellcaster. Bex told me magic isn’t real. I--I didn’t know what to believe. Am I going crazy?” Breathe, Kyle. He took a deep shaky breath, steadying himself.

“I should’ve told her outright. I thought--Well, she was in my head and I didn’t exactly hide it. I’m not ashamed of being a wolf. I’m--it means a lot to me. I thought she would just figure it out, but she didn’t believe me. She didn’t really think I was serious, I guess, until--until--” Kyle closed his eyes when he could feel them welling with tears. It was a losing battle, but he just couldn’t cry in front of these women. They had every right to want to kill him, but recognizing that as fact did nothing to quell the desperate urge to shift again. His body didn’t have the strength or the energy to do so, but the anxiety Kyle felt wouldn’t take the option off the table.

When he opened his eyes again, it was because he could feel something hot against his neck. He didn’t have to look to know it was one of the knives Nell had been twirling. He tensed and tried not to move an inch, lest the blade touch his skin. It was silver. He didn’t have to ask. He knew Nell would’ve come prepared. “I--I’ve been doing my best. I’ve been--been trying to stay safe. I’ve only ever hurt two people, Bex included. The other time, it was--it was--” Kyle’s chest heaved with a silent sob he couldn’t contain, and a tear finally spilled over his cheek.

“My first full moon. I didn’t even know I was a wolf. My parents, they’re human. They didn’t know. How would they? They were going through a divorce and--and I didn’t know what was happening until it was happening.” He closed his eyes again and sniffled. He could almost laugh. Who would’ve thought that he was going to end up spilling out his traumas at knifepoint? He didn’t laugh. His voice came quieter, shakier, when he spoke again. “My mom got hurt. I didn’t kill her. But she got hurt. And I’ve been focusing...so. hard. on not doing that again. I don’t--the stress, and the--the noise, and the not sleeping. My--my grip slipped. Or maybe it wasn’t there to begin with. Maybe I’m just stupid and--and--and lucky.” Kyle stared at a point on the wall, not meeting any of their eyes. The tears fell freely, dripping off his jaw onto the blade.

“If that’s what you needed from me to justify it, go ahead and--”

There was a weight on Bex’s chest. She saw teeth, claws. Anger. Panic. It swelled in her head. Was it her? Was it his? Did they share it? The wolf lunged. Bex screamed. Her back hit the ground--

Bex sat upright in bed so fast her vision blotted. It was only a few seconds until she felt the burning in her chest and she cried out, looking down. Bandages had been placed on her chest, a lot of them. She put her head in her hands. She couldn’t remember everything that had happened. Her head felt so empty. Empty. Kyle! Eyes shot open and she swiveled her head to look around. Bedroom. Her bedroom, she was in her bedroom at Morgan’s. At the end of her bed was a large black cat with flaming eyes. Taki. Why was Taki here? Was Nell here? Why was Nell here? The pain in her chest made her sputter again and she pressed her hands against it, as if begging the pain to go away.

She remembered running. Kyle was panicking. Something about a change. A wolf. A werewolf. The memories flooded back into her head and she leapt up from the bed, clawing around for a shirt. Kyle. She had to find Kyle. What happened to him? Was he okay? Was he still a wolf? Had he hurt someone? Had he killed someone? Her legs gave out underneath her. Her back hurt, her head hurt. Taki made a disgruntled noise and came over to her. “Where…” she croaked, but it wasn’t like he could answer. So she stopped. She remembered something else.

Morgan, in her living room. Mina, coming down the stairs. The alleyway. It was so dark, she felt so cold. Bex shivered. She had begged them to help him. They had to have helped him. She pushed herself back up to her feet, shaking as she pulled on a shirt. Wincing with each small movement that tugged on the scabbed over cuts on her chest. How had they scabbed so fast? She reached back around her head to feel the throbbing. Stitches. It must’ve been bad. They were going to be so angry. What if they hurt Kyle? What if he hadn’t made it out alive?

Bex stumbled to the stairs and wrapped her arms around the railing as she lowered herself down each step painstakingly. Taki was behind her making angry, shrill meows, as if to tell her no. But she had to know, she had to see. She had to tell them it wasn’t Kyle’s fault.

She made it to the first floor and sank to her knees. Where were they? Voices. Down the hall. The basement. Bex took a moment to catch her breath before she pulled herself up once more and made her way to the basement stairs. The voices were getting clearer now, but her ears were rushing with blood. She couldn’t tell any of  them apart. Taki ran down first and snuck into the room, meowing loudly. Finally, Bex made it there, and she stumbled into the doorway. Her eyes narrowed in on the figure on the floor, slumped, crying, covered in a blanket. “Kyle!” she exclaimed, voice raw, and took off for the boy. Overjoyed he was alive. He was alive. He was alive.

Something stopped her before she even got three steps into the room. Someone. Bex squinted through her blurry vision. Brunette hair, soft eyes. Except...they looked sharp. Worried. Angry. Bex drew her face in confusion, sinking to the floor with Mina. “Why are-- what’s going on?”

“I appreciate the rationale, Kyle, but your passive ‘oh well I didn’t not tell her, I just didn’t actually tell her’ bullshit still got Bex under your claws,” Morgan said, holding her voice steady through clenched teeth. “And yes, she was absurdly stupid to not to explain her baby magic did this, but that doesn’t absolve you of your choices and what they did to someone who is supposed to be your friend.” Nell and Mina also had plenty to say, and she was able to crack an ice pack to some of Kyle’s bruises with the rest of her held in tension. She did not want this anger, did not want to be the person it made her into. She prayed for the earth to take it from her as she finished up with the salve and the bandaids on the smaller scrapes. By the time she had unfurled new bandages, she had enough wherewithal to cover Nell’s blade with her fist.

“That is not the solution,” she said carefully. “Not today.”

Another breath. With everything she could, she tried to surrender her rage through her grip and down to the ground. Her voice was softer, but still tense when she spoke again. “I’m sorry about your mother, Kyle. And you’re not stupid, you’re just making reckless, selfish, short-sighted choices and---”

A wave of very angry Taki wails cut her off. Morgan let go and turned, Nell put away her knife, and the door opened, showing Bex, bruised and drained and just barely, amazingly alive. “Bex, what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be out of bed, you need--” Morgan’s voice tapered off as she gaped at her with open relief. She forgot about Kyle completely until the bandage roll tumped to the floor again. Right. Time to hurry up. “Hold still, I’m almost done,” she grumbled, pinning him in place with one hand.

Actually, Mina would argue that this boy was stupid. Stupid as well as reckless and selfish and short-sighted. But she couldn’t help but pity him just a bit. This was why she never made a hunter of any kind. She was kind of a sucker when the sob stories came out. She was still beyond furious, and a part of her thought that they were letting this fool off a bit too easy, and an even bigger part of her might enjoy sitting back and watching the Nell approach as opposed to the Morgan one, but she didn’t have anything to say.

Mina didn’t understand why the cat had burst into the room so loudly until Bex followed after. She stopped the younger girl from moving too far, hands wrapped gently around Bex’s arms. “Hey, he’s fine. He’s okay. You need to sit down.” She moved them both to sit down. “Morgan’s tending to him. We’re all just talking.” It was even a rather productive talk. No one had been stabbed, and everyone was just in various states of sadness and anger. Really, Mina was sure this was how the most productive interrogations-- conversations went. She checked Bex over, relief and worry fighting each other. She glanced at Nell. “Should she be up right now?”

The moment Bex was on the move, Nell knew it, feeling the information reverberate across her familiar bond with Taki. As the younger witch neared the door, Nell withdrew her knife. She’d shot Morgan a look trimmed with her natural desire to fight against anyone who tried to sway her from a choice she was seemingly making. But it had also been meant as a wordless message between the two of them, one that said the true intent to kill wasn’t on Nell’s mind...yet. Her knife had mostly been meant as an enforcer to begin with, as a means of coercing anything Kyle might be hiding out into the open. Apparently it had worked with the admission of his mother, and for the first time since she’d arrived Nell felt a sprig of pity trying to worm it’s way through her anger. Unfortunately she wasn’t interested in feeling all that much empathy at the moment when Bex had been attacked, but it didn’t matter when Taki burst into the room, angrily meowing his alarm that Bex had arrived.

Following Mina’s lead, Nell abandoned Kyle where he lay- having little interest in him now that she had what knowledge she wanted, and when it was quite obvious he didn’t pose any immediate threat. “She should not be up.” In the span of a few moments Nell’s tone had shifted to the other side of the spectrum, her voice lightening from a vaguely tortuous interrogation to a forceful concern. “You lost a lot of blood, Bex. You need to sit down or you could pass out. How are you feeling? What do you remember?”

The sight of Bex alive was enough to silence Kyle for a moment. She looked bad. Well, she looked good for having been attacked by a werewolf, but she still looked bad. “Bex,” he mumbled, barely above a whisper. It was a relief to see her alive, but the guilt that washed over him threatened to swallow him whole. That didn’t happen, and Kyle dumbly stared at Bex, tears still falling.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, a little louder now. “I didn’t mean for this—I didn’t want—I’m so sorry.”  Bex didn’t need to forgive him; she shouldn’t forgive him. If she took the knife from Nell and stabbed him, Kyle would see that as getting off too easy.

He looked down at the hand that held him in place, trying to ignore the pain of the bandaging Morgan was doing. She was stronger than anticipated, so Kyle didn’t act on his urge to run to Bex’s side and hug her. Not that he should act on that urge anyway; some part of Kyle had already decided that he was going to leave as soon as he could. The brutal reminder of what he’d done to his own mother just cemented the idea further in his head.  He needed to get out of here. It wasn’t for his own safety, but the safety of everyone in the house. They were right. He didn’t have as good a grip as he had thought and that made him dangerous. As soon as Bex was asleep, as soon as no one else was looking, Kyle had to go.

“No, no,” Bex said, already getting weary again. The world was turning dark and her head lolled for a moment until someone said her name and she sat up straight. Winced in pain, grabbing her chest as she doubled over. Everyone was telling her what to do again. They didn’t understand. This was her fault. She braced a hand against the floor, the other clinging to Mina. “You have to know, it was me,” she sputtered out. She looked across the room to Kyle, tried her best to meet his eyes, even as her world began to fade. Color seeping from the walls, draining from her face. Breathing laboured. The journey downstairs had taken nearly everything out of her but she needed to say it, even as she remembered sharp eyes and sharper claws, and a snarl. Anger. Intent to kill.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Kyle, her voice ragged. Her hand tightened around Mina’s arm. “I’m sorry. It was me. I panicked and I m-made you change and I thought I-- I thought I could stop it. Stop you. I’m sorry. Please don’t-- please d-don’t be sorry. It’s not your f-fault.” She looked to Morgan, to Nell, to Mina. “It’s not his fault.” She could feel sweat beading on her forehead. She was so tired. Her eyes fought to stay open as her head lolled against Mina. “Please don’t...hurt him...he didn’t...do anything…” She tried to give him one last look, but she knew it fell short. The world was consuming her again. She reached out for him, but he was too far away. She couldn’t reach him anymore.

She wished she could still hear him in her head. Maybe then she could reassure him.

“Oh, trust me, we are definitely talking about how responsible you are for this,” Morgan grumbled at the girl, taping down the last of Kyle’s bandages as she did. She pressed him down in place, muttering, “Stay put. I’ll finish taking care of you later.”

Then she was on her feet, rushing to Bex. “You need rest first, you need--” But whatever energy Bex had was already drained from her body. Morgan sighed and gathered her into arms as if she were no more than a basket of laundry. “I’d like to get her back to bed now, but I can’t leave Kyle alone if the two of you are going to keep twirling your knives at him,” she sighed, bundling Bex closer to her. “I don’t think he can make it up two flights of stairs, much less maim anyone else. He’s sorry and he’s not a threat and even if he was, I could throw him through a wall before he did anything. And Bex was clear about treating him with kindness. So, are we ready to go?”

“I wasn’t twirling a knife at him,” Mina muttered. The truth. She’d never twirled it. He hadn’t even been awake when it was in her hands. But that wasn’t important, now. She gave Nell a look, one that she hoped said, no for now but yes if necessary. She told herself that this wasn’t just about Bex, that she couldn’t suffer a dangerous werewolf to live if that was what Kyle turned out to be. Yet… there was still a werewolf out there that she’d been pitted up against twice that kind of disputed that as a fact. The thought of her dad lying in his own blood flashed in her head, and then he was gone, and it was Bex, and Mina felt the hand still on her arm, and she swallowed, tightly. She told herself it wasn’t just because of Bex. She was lying to herself. At least those lies didn’t hurt as bad. She looked at Kyle, still upset but not seething with it anymore. She wouldn’t try to kill him again, not now, at least. She moved Bex’s hand from her arm and squeezed it before she stood up. “Stay,” she told Kyle, no room for argument in her voice. If Bex wanted him to stay, fine. He’d stay and heal and then provide better answers. He didn’t particularly matter to Mina anymore. “I’m ready.”

“I already showed you that I got what I wanted for now,” Nell commented for whoever it was that apparently needed consolation on the matter of whether or not Kyle would make it through the next hour without finding her knife stuck between his ribs. “And if I’d wanted to kill him I already would have. I said that too.” Her foul mood at having found Bex bleeding out didn’t make for much patience when it came to her words at the moment, especially when she felt as if she were being warned off in a situation she was familiar with. Despite her short patience, it was obvious that there had been a lapse of judgment in Bex’s dash to Kyle, and Nell made a mental note to go over werewolves in more detail whenever their regular lessons began again. Maybe she could ask Kaden to speak to Bex about some of the finer points as well. After all Nell hadn’t known about loup garous until he’d told the witch of them after her stressful night under the moon with Adam, and they’d waited to see if they’d turn into what was currently sitting in Morgan's basement.

Nell flicked her gaze towards her familiar, and the Ovinikk got the hint without any verbal indication needed as Taki took up position next to Kyle, as if he were a prison guard escorting a convict to their next destination. Sensing his witch’s frustration, he took it upon himself to let a little burp of flames split through his lips, trying his best to make the small demonstration of his fire breath look as innocent as possible. Then Nell was drawing close to Bex as well, laying a hand against the other witch as she transferred some more energy into the girl, trying to give her the strength to at least make it to her bed. “We’ll get you to rest, and then we can talk about everything later.”

Preparing to ascend the stairs, Nell remembered the conversation she’d had with Morgan no more than a few days ago, centered around Bex and the lessons she’d have to learn the hard way when it came to the supernatural. It seemed one had already come to pass in the form of a werewolf mauling, but Nell couldn’t help the twinge of responsibility settling into her gut, thinking about how she should have acted faster on dissipating the mind-meld, how she might have tried to reach out to someone more practiced in mental magic if she’d managed to find a witch that would actually talk to her instead of spitting in disgust and cursing her away. She should have told Bex more about werewolves to begin with— should have shown Bex at least one spell she could have used to come to her defense. Instead they’d been left amongst the rubble of the first safehouse to fall in Bex’s world of diving into her new world of magic and discovery. “Let’s just get you to bed.”

Before Bex had even fully collapsed again, Kyle had convinced himself that she was dying, right here, before his eyes. What’s worse, she was blaming herself for a situation that was undeniably Kyle’s fault. His plans for escape seemed to be slipping away as he was told to stay put. Even more so when they put the infernal cat on guard duty. He bit his tongue to keep from making any snide comments about the cat, but that didn’t stop the reflexive growl that bubbled up from his chest. Kyle debated if now would be an appropriate time to request clothes, but Bex’s funeral procession was already headed up the stairs.

He had so much left that he wanted to say. He wanted to thank Morgan for defending him as much as she did. He wanted to apologize to them all for nearly killing their friend. He wanted to defend himself further by explaining the situation fully, though he still blamed himself entirely. He wanted to tell the damned cat to fuck off. Most of all, he wanted to apologize to Bex; if Bex yelled at him, if she never wanted to see him again, that was better than what he deserved. It wasn’t like they’d been friends before meeting in the library. But he’d been in her head, and he’d heard her just a few minutes ago. She wouldn’t yell at him. Kyle let his head drop back against the floor and he closed his eyes with a sigh. Maybe he should message Alcher or Ari. Maybe he should run into the woods and never look back. Maybe he should call his mom. He curled up, turning his back to the cat. All that could wait. Right now, he needed some sleep.

Bex wanted to stay awake for just a little longer. She really did. But Morgan’s arms, despite their chill, were very comfortable. Her grip was tight, and it felt safe. There weren’t claws in this moment, there wasn’t pain. She settled against her chest with weary eyes and looked at Mina next to her. Then Nell, coming hurriedly over. All their voices so concerned. But no one was concerned for Kyle. Bex was. She turned her head enough to try and see him again. He was slumped in the corner, curled up in his blanket on the floor. Her eyes welled up with tears again. She’d never wanted this for him. He had been so annoying when they first met. They’d never gotten along, not even for a minute. Screaming at each other through their thoughts. Blasting stupid music, thinking mean thoughts-- and it was all her fault. Because she didn’t know how to control herself, her magic. She turned back to bury her face in Morgan’s shoulder, shaking with quiet sobs. “I’m sorry,” she muttered into her shirt. “I’m sorry.” She doubted it would ever be enough. “Please be...please don’t be m-mad at him,” she breathed into Morgan. “P-please. He’s just scared. He’s s-scared, too.” She knew because of his thoughts, because they’d been inside each other’s minds for so long. It felt empty now, without him there. She couldn’t reach out and tell him sorry or ask if he was okay, or wonder what type of Yu-Gi-Oh cards he was looking at today. She’d said sorry for making him change, for making this happen, but she’d never said sorry for stealing his mind away from him. She wasn’t sure she could ever apologize enough for that.

Her body grew too exhausted to think too much anymore. She was limp in Morgan’s arms, her eyes barely open. She knew they were moving. Upstairs. Kyle wasn’t with them. It was a solemn trail of bodies. There was nothing left she could do, and so she closed her eyes, and let sleep take care, and hoped that in her dreams, she wouldn’t see claws again. That maybe she wouldn’t see a friend staring at her with death in his eyes.

[inyuji]

OMG I don’t know why I started adding more sketches. Anyway, this is my take on “Morgana Macawber” in the Ducktales 2017 verse. Honestly, it’s just another fancharacter haha. Meet Miyu Moreno, a pretty well-known voice actress, who likes to pick on Drake Mallard whenever she him near her work studio. But on some nights, she dons the mask of “Red Mugen.”

At first I wanted to just call her “Morgan,” but that was too obvious. Instead, I had a good idea of having her related to the original “Morgana” actress. Miyu isn’t too malicious or goes out of her way to ruin Drake’s day. In fact, she minds her own business and only interacts with co-workers when it’s absolutely needed. For some reason she likes to go out of her way to greet Drake if she ever spots him near her work place. She doesn’t actively hunt him down just to slap him with a “Hey Dorkus!” She doesn’t realize that she has a Tsundere complex going on there ^^ Miyu doesn’t like the “live” acting business, since a whole lot of it depends on physical appearances than actual talent (in her opinion and personal experiences). However, she found great pleasure in the voice-acting industry. She started off in radio commercials, then worked her way up to landing major parts in the tripple-A video game industry and animation. Miyu is put off by Drake’s unwavering determination and enthusiasm for whatever stunt-double roles he can find in action films, and believes he’s wasting his time and talent where it’s taken for granted. Frankly, she thinks he deserves better, especially since she sees herself in his shoes.

Her villain/ anti-hero alias is Red Mugen, because Mugen in Japanese can refer to “infinity” or “without limit.” Red Mugen is crafty and mischievous, and unpredictable with her schemes. One night she’s willing to turn a whole apartment complex into a Yokai sub-haven, the next time she’s stealing ancient artifacts from a newly found imperial tomb, and then she’s playing cat-and-mouse games with Darkwing by baiting him with hostages. Darkwing is always put on edge around her and hasn’t been successful in catching her. He can never tell what Red Mugen’s end goals are. Her motives are constantly shifting. Their first encounter, she was all too happy to kill him. The next encounters resorted to poison or painfully maiming. It always shifted between, murdering him, seductively teasing or playing him, attempts to stealing his soul, or rarely helping him. It doesn’t help that she openly flirts with him, just for the sadistic pleasure of getting under his skin and throwing him off-kilter. Fanfic writers have had a field day with the crack-shipping of MugenWing (all due to a certain die-hard Darkwing Fanfic writer).

As for her connection to “Morgana Macawber,” Miyu was actually adopted by Lucia Moreno, the actress who played “Morgana” for a very short time on the old “Darkwing” show. When Lucia was given the part as “Morgana,” she was on the moon believing that this was a big step forward in her acting career. However, due to the “dangerous” stunts and scenes that were insisted by Jim Starling (smoke, or dangerous fumes, or fire is involved), Lucia was lucky to survive mostly intact. But her voice suffered for it. Her voice was her greatest asset, so losing that was a huge blow to her career. Also, the lingering effects from that accident would prevent her from healing fast enough to even pursue other gigs. A mute actor probably doesn’t get around much in the industry back then. Due to the fast-paced scheduling, the Morgana character was written out, instead of being a frequent character.

After surviving an accident on set, but also having her acting career cut short, Lucia travelled abroad to recover. She started healing while living temporarily in Japan. There she met a wild, yet gloomy child playing with flickers of bright lights. Miyu was considered a problematic orphan, due to her sixth sense, wild claims of seeing creatures or ghosts, and her budding powers in magic. One day Lucia saw her, and instantly fell in love with the strange child. Soon they became family. Lucia found great happiness with being a mother to a child with magical powers. Miyu in return would never forget the love and acceptance that Lucia had given her, while everyone else feared her, or wrote her off as a lost cause. So it was unfortunate when her beloved mother died during a failed operation. Lucia had loved singing, especially with her daughter. Unfortunately, her body was growing ill and her voice hadn’t healed fully. When Miyu started showing great promise in performing arts and as a singer, Lucia wanted to do everything she could to support Miyu’s dreams. In hopes of recovering and hoping to get back into acting to inspire Miyu and to financially support her, Lucia sought experimental treatment in Japan, but she didn’t make it. Miyu was forever heart-broken and never fully healed from her loss.

In hopes of moving on, she tried to pursue her dream as an actress and moved to America, but she struggled and found a lot of downsides to the industry. She struggled working part-time jobs while acting at a local theater and improving her English. It didn’t help that she didn’t have a high-school diploma in America, and was solely home-schooled by Lucia. While Miyu had a small inheritance after Lucia’s death, she refused to rely on it, saving it for life-crisis emergencies. Thankfully she found some voice gigs in commercials within months of reaching fluency in English. Later on, she’ll try to look up her mother’s acting career, and that’s when she finds out about the cause of Lucia’s illness, and eventual death.

To this day, she has festered a deep hatred for anything “Darkwing Duck” related. She blames the show for causing the death of her mother. To find out that an actual “Darkwing Duck” is emerging in the hero scene, is what pushed her to becoming “Red Mugen.” Her attitude towards Darkwing has been undecided, and changed with each encounter. Once she wanted to see nothing but some glory-obsessed wannabe playing hero, but with each encounter and news bite, she grudgingly respects his altruistic spirit and unwavering determination to never give up.

[penny-nichols]

"wow, she must be very supportive if she takes me to pride and I'm not even out" thinks Maya

Meanwhile Morgan's ebtire thought process is just "killing and biting and ripping and tearing and maiming and-"

Now I feel like no matter WHAT Sapphic Maya Ship we have we all kinda assumed that Morgan would be homophobic but have you considered:

Morgan DESPERATELY WANTING Maya to be Gay so that she won't have kids and when she dies of totally natural causes Pearl can be the master

[blackash-hq]

ALEXIUS BARINOV is FORTY years old. He looks a lot like JOSEPH MORGAN and is known as the THE WILD CARD. ALEXIUS is an OC, played by COURTNEY.

ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛʙʀᴇᴀᴋ 

One drunkard, dick of a father, that never failed to win the ‘ neglect your child and otherwise let money do the raising ’ award. His wicked mother who, when she was actually around, treated him just as badly if not worse, any attentions given to him simply a way for her to explore her own disturbed mind and twisted sexual ways. This is what he would always remember of the people who were his biological family; albeit, there was one thing that would stick with him more than the rest. 

The way that his mother’s body looked,  

After she was blown to bits in that fatal car accident.

Even though he had only seen the aftermath at the open casket funeral his father held a few days later, he could pick up on all the details      the rigid bumps from where her neck had snapped at impact, how she was all burnt up, some of her limbs barely hanging on by the threads they’d used to put her back together with.

But where in the hell was all the blood???

Unable to bury what had been awoken in that moment, he became utterly obsessed. Whenever he would see blood…. it would mesmerize him. he would need to see more, he would want to see more.

Thus at the age of eight Alexius experienced his first human kill. All it took was a push and down the stairs his nanny went. which. Of course, what with having a father who happened to be the president of some trillion dollar company in Moscow, the incident was covered up and deemed an accident. Including the second time it happened. only this time there were no stairs involved and his new nanny instead received a knife to the neck. but. it was just another accident as far as his father was concerned.

So as the years would go past and he grew old enough those lucky few he stumbled across that reminded him of the nanny would share her fate. Murdered, in the nice little shack Alexius bought himself and primped solely for his killings; eventually cutting them up in parts, to be hidden in its underground cellar.

By the time he hit seventeen his father remarried and the woman who he was now expected to call mother was surprisingly….. likable. That and the fact that Alexius was enamored with her daughter; his now to be called ’ little sister ’.  But a few months later when news eventually broke of his mother’s pregnancy? Everything changed. And that’s when he discovered his sister was just like him.

❝Their mother, their father? they were theirs, ❞  She had said.  ❝ And that thing growing in her dared tried to change that? Replace them, even? ❞

After a few delicate words from his sister, Alexius snuck into his parent’s room and attempted to drown his mother while she was in the tub; not before shoving a utility knife in her stomach. Unfortunately, his father heard all the ruckus, and got there just in time. Before any repercussions of his actions could form, he took a bunch of cash and other such valuables and his step sister and then proceeded to flee from Russia. Boarding a plane to the USA, in the grand Los Angeles; where they were set to live for the rest of their lives.

But all that time just loafing around, living off of what he had taken? Owning a pastry shop as a front to look for potential victims? After years of killings? It really was no surprise when the police, and later the FBI, began sniffing around and forced him to move yet again. And again. and, finally, one more time.

To the quaint little city of Houston, Texas.

Which was all fine and dandy and then the ash fell from the sky.

ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛʙʀᴇᴀᴋ

But everything only got even better.  

With all the death and the entire shit storm that came with the end of times, his need, the fixation, that urged him to kill those similar to the nanny, for the most part vanished. Sure, his reaction whenever he saw blood was still the same; but the recipient of his innate wickedness changed and became those poor saps who were already dead: the infected. which was pretty great considering Alexius could kill and maim and bask in the bloody glory as much as he wanted without having to worry about constantly looking over his shoulder for what he did. just pass the time away with his beloved sister. and, you know, survive.

Something that sure did become a whole lot easier to do once he found himself accompanied by a group of thirteen people      more than half of said people having been acquired upon his saving them from becoming zombie chow.

Accidental as each instance was ( he’d simply been out having fun, just like how he did every night, killing as many infected as he could find ) the fact remained that he had saved them from certain death. And sure, he was the farthest thing from being a hero, but, even still, they stuck around and followed him. Listened to him. so. He wasn’t about to start complaining. because nothing was more useful than a couple of willing followers to use as fodder if need be.

Not even five months later, though, they all began to venture away from Houston and started to head out towards Minnesota in search for a facility of survivors. A place he wouldn’t have even known about if it wasn’t for that dying soldier who had told him about the secure location before succumbing to his wounds. At least, that was what everyone was led to believe. In reality there was never any soldier. Alexius made the entire thing up in order to fulfill what his dear sweet step sister had wished for: to have their living arrangement to be less cramped and preferably relocated to somewhere with more open spaces. They lost a few people and also picked up a few more who joined them along the way but as they got farther away from the city Alexius noticed that people were less trusting and tended to steer clear of other survivors.

Which actually made a whole lot of sense.

Especially when winter came crashing down upon them.

Between the erratic snow storms and the numbing cold no one even noticed how hungry they were. The hunger crept its way in, slowly, barely even there at first. After two weeks of living out of a gas station due to the unbearable weather, with him searching through nearby stores for remnants of food only to find crackers and chips, though….. that pang was unbearable. Anything he did find for himself he would take a mere bite of and proceed to give the rest to his sister and whatever his second in command found was divided out for the rest of the bunch. But it wasn’t ever enough. Everyone, including himself, quickly became too exhausted to even think about continuing on with the journey. Then weeks turned into a month and then the hunger was all consuming. Fortunately, one night while he and his second in command were out looking for any edible thing they could scavenge, they spotted a campfire. and came across another small group of people. or rather, a nice set of meat bags. because that’s what they essentially were right? Why else would the infected scarf people down like they did? Questions that swiftly had their answers. Alexius slaughtered all those people like cattle. Gutted and skinned them, served them up like cattle, too. When they returned he said that they had come across some deer and everyone couldn’t stop smiling. Crying. Giving their thanks and telling him how the “ deer meat ” reminded them of a huge juicy steak. which? It kind of did taste like steak. And that was pretty fucking funny, considering. But at least his step sister would finally fill her belly. Thus he and his second in command would routinely go out and search for smoke or anything else that could possibly signal life and continue to kill each and every person who they managed to come in contact with for the remaining winter months in order to keep his sister thoroughly fed. Being able to also feed everyone else, well, was just a beneficial bonus.

When the weather started warming up, things went back to normal, and he got everyone to continue on the decided path. for about a year, nothing major happened. the search for that secure place to settle aka somewhere spacious, an ongoing endeavor that led them to travel further north in to the woody depths of Nebraska.  

 Of course, that ’ nothing major ’ would only last, for so long.

Eventually, a hoard of the infected happened to be passing by the same run down building as they were. One minute they were all outside, and the next, Alexius was being ushered inside the building with the undead quickly following suit.

He watched as those who had chosen to follow him stood their ground      for themselves, for each other. Some began to get ripped apart while others were attempting and failing to fight against the undead to keep the creatures from ripping anyone apart. All the blood. Each shrilly scream. It was so very exciting. The exact kind of shit that he lived for. He didn’t get to properly appreciate what was happening, though, because in that marvelous moment of mayhem, he remembered that his precious little sister was there with him.

 And they were outnumbered seven to one.

So, without a word, he grabbed his step sisters hand, ran towards the back of the room, pushed her through the half broken window leading towards the woods, and then squeezed himself through it as well; abandoning his handy dandy human shields to their chosen grisly demises to make a sure fire escape.

It wasn’t like Alexius and his sister were roaming around alone for long. Maybe about two weeks, tops.

Before they knew it, two women had stumbled across them, asked them a few questions, and then just skipped right to it and invited them to come and rest up in the safety of their group. and he thought: why the hell not? The decision to stay, that he was going to join this new group with his sister, didn’t require any sort of thinking on his part.

Because he was dead set on sticking by his end of the world motto.

There was no better way to ensure his sister’s safety, than in numbers.