#the family that lived in the house across from us appear to have abandoned it

[vitos-ordination-song]

Maybe it was naive of me but when I moved to a small city I wasn’t expecting to feel nervous walking around? I’ve lived in rough areas of Phoenix and Louisville and not felt as uncomfortable as I currently feel walking around my neighborhood.

When I first got here I was all :) It was a nice little hidden away area, under trees. Lots of people gardened and old people were sitting outside. Where I lived before moving felt way rougher than this and I walked there every day. But the people across from where I am were abusing that dog a while back, it got so bad I called animal welfare on them, and they immediately said they didn’t want the dog and gave it up to the lady with no argument. Okay well that’s solved. Then there’s been constant gunshots going off for months. All times of day. I think it’s not actual gun fights or anything. I mean a kid got killed across from where I used to live in a drive-by. Here I think that it’s just dumbasses firing at signs? But there’s something sketchy going on at certain houses. Now that was also true in Louisville but idk. Just didn’t feel unsafe I guess. Idk maybe I like the anonymity of a huge city. I’m officially not feeling like doing my usual walk here. There’s cops roaming around, people glaring at me from in cars, weird stuff happening. It’s getting worse for sure. I feel bad ‘cause plenty of people living here are like, old couples, people with kids, there’s one nice guy I’ve gotten to know a little who does people’s yards. But everyone is increasingly uneasy with the shit going down.

[kingofpopmj]

you could do a story with Michael Jackson where he is married to Y/N just to please the media and he doesn't really love her that much. However, he respects her even though he gives her a few arrows with nasty words, making her disappointed. Also, if possible, at some point in the bedroom while Y/N is sleeping, Michael appears slightly nervous and when he sees her, he starts kissing her because he misses her touches.... and... maybe a passionate ending smut????please…. thank u😩😙💓

~This is my first smut imagine, so don’t be too hard on me.🙈 I hope you enjoy it! Michael is spicy in this one so read at your own risk. Thank you to the hunni that requested this!

I'll Change The Rules For You

*Michael’s POV*

The heaviness in my heart grew unbearable as I unlocked the front door. The shine of my wedding ring ever so bright as I slowly pushed the door open. I quietly entered the house. It was spotless. The house filled with the smell of a homemade meal. My favorite meal. The distant sound of Y/N humming made me feel everything and nothing all at once. She was- she’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine.

I stood in the doorway unable to shut the door behind me just yet. I wanted to be home. It’s just home doesn’t feel much like home lately. I let out a deep sigh before closing the door. There’s no running. I can’t run away. Making my way to the kitchen with small steps I’m greeted with Y/N’s backside. She was bent over putting something in the oven. A normal husband would happily announce his arrival or greet his wife with a kiss, but me- I have no idea what to do.

“Oh my goodness!” Y/N jumped when she finally turned around. “You scared me.”

“I do live here.” I scoffed.

“Of course you live here. I just wasn’t sure what time you’d be home.” She smiled hopefully. “I’m happy to see you.” She moved towards me wrapping her arms around me. When I didn’t reciprocate the gesture her arms fell to her sides. The look of defeat plastered across her face.

“I’m gonna go take care of some things.”

“Wait.” She gently held my arm stopping my abrupt exit. “I made dinner. I thought we could eat together. Maybe have a movie night?” Again, she smiled. It was full of love and optimism. I couldn’t stand the feeling in my chest, but still I held my ground.

“I’ll pass.”

“I don’t understand why you’re being this way.” It came out as a whisper, but I heard it. I heard her sadness. I felt her despair.

“You don’t understand a lot.” I snapped.

“We used to be friends.” She looked up at me with watery eyes and in that moment I hated myself.

“We are what we are. That’s it.”

“What are we?”

“We are legally bound to one another.” I said with a shrug. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t.

“You make it sound so-“

“I make it sound like what it is!” Y/N jumped back at my sudden outburst. She looked terrified- terrified of me.

“Why do you have to be so mean?” Her voice laced with pain. “You asked me to do this for you and I did because you promised me nothing would change.”

“I’m not being mean! It’s not my fault you’re a dimwit that can’t understand simple concepts! You keep acting like this perfect little housewife. It’s too much! You are too much! We did this to get the world off my back, yet somehow you’ve managed to screw that up! It’s exhausting being your husband- your fake husband!”

“I gave up my whole life because my friend asked me- no begged me to help him. I couldn’t be anything else but Michael Jackson’s wife. You knew that. I had to abandon my family, my friends, my job. Everything. I know this isn’t real, I know we aren’t real, but I still thought you were worth it. I tried to make this strange situation as comfortable as possible, but you are determined to hurt me. To break me.”

“Y/N-” I stopped when she put her hand up shaking her head slowly. She untied the apron from around her waist placing it on the counter.

“Dinner is on the table. I made the cake you like. It’s in the oven- just take it out when the timer goes off.” She spoke softly before leaving the kitchen forcing me to watch her walk away- walk away from me. It seemed inevitable.

She doesn’t deserve this.

I don’t deserve her.

I took my seat at the table unable to eat anything. After how I treated Y/N, I deserved the loss of appetite and more. I stared at the spread in front of me, which only made me feel worse. She did so much for me. She does so much for me. The kitchen timer went off reminding me of the cake in the oven. I walked over to take it out. She really did all of this for me. She’s the best person in my life. The only one I can truly trust and I’m going to lose her.

Two hours have gone by since Y/N left. I knew she fell apart after how I spoke to her. She felt safe in our bedroom, so I knew that were she was. I desperately wanted to see her- hold her- be with her. I knew the shame would become insufferable the moment I looked into her eyes. Even with that understanding, I couldn’t stay away from her. The effect she has on me is something I don’t think I’ll ever fully comprehend.

Another forty-five minutes went by before I mustered up the courage to leave the kitchen. I found myself struggling to proceed when I reached the bottom of the staircase. I need to make this right. I need to fix this. I need Y/N.

As I reached to top of the staircase I see the bedroom door is closed, but as I twisted the knob I was thankful it wasn’t locked. My eyes scanned the room unable to find Y/N. The bed was made without a crease in sight. The only source of light illuminating from the bathroom. I rushed over hoping to find her braiding her hair in front of the mirror or massaging her face with that lotion she loved so much. It smelled like peonies, her favorite flower. The more time that passed without any trace of Y/N the more empty I felt. I was starting to feel worried, but mostly confused.

The closet was the last place to check. Nothing could prepare me for how broken I’d feel once I pushed that door open. The hangers were empty on Y/N’s side of the closet. Her suitcases littered the floor half full of her belongings. She was curled up into a ball on the tiny couch I got her for our first anniversary. It’s from France. She fell in love with the soft velvet fabric and I knew I had to surprise her with it. I still remember the smile on her face. She was so touched. She was so happy. Ironic, how easily- how quickly I tarnished that happiness. When I realized she was asleep I moved closer. Her tear stained cheeks broke my heart further. The pain in my chest growing by the second.

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered kneeling down to leave a gentle kiss on her forehead. Unable to take my eyes off of her I gently took her hand in mine- her left hand. I admired the ring on her finger remembering the proposal, the smile on her face, the joy that filled my heart and the love between us. “I’m so sorry.” I whispered again leaving kisses on her hand.

“Y/N?” I said softly trying to wake her up without scaring her. Her eyes remained shut as she instinctively snuggled into my hand that rested against her cheek. I couldn’t help myself. I cupped her face in my hands as I left tender kisses all over face.

“Michael?” Y/N sat up looking at me bewildered.

“I’m so sorry.” She avoided looking into my eyes. “Please don’t leave me. I’m so sorry.”

“You act like you hate me.” She murmured staring down at our entangled hands.

“I don’t.” I began kissing her hand slowly traveling up her arm, shoulder and neck.

“Michael.” Y/N pulled away finally meeting my eyes. “You can’t bombard me with kisses and think that erases all the bad.”

“I know. I know. Y/N, I love you.”

“You can’t just say that and not mean it or act like it.”

“When I asked you to marry me as a favor I didn’t necessarily think it through.”

“What do you mean?”

“We loved each other as friends. I thought it would stay that way. It didn’t. Not for me. You promised me five years of marriage. On our third anniversary, I asked you for an extra five more and you obliged. You agreed to ten whole years as my wife.”

“I knew it would help you, so of course I said yes.”

“We’re just about to hit the five year mark and the thought of eventually having to let you go terrifies me. I asked for five more years because I don’t want to be without you.” I leaned in before she could respond and kissed her. I kissed her like I meant it. I kissed her like how I’ve been desperately wanting to for so long. Desperately, I pulled her to sit on top of me guiding her hips as I brought her down to my lap.

“What about the rules? No sex.”

“Those were impossible rules to follow. An idiot created those rules.” I say brushing her hair behind her shoulder and sinking my face into her neck. Her perfume filled my nostrils and I mentally kicked myself for denying myself of this pleasure sooner.

“Calling yourself an idiot there rule maker?” She questioned rolling her eyes and giggling. Oh, that sound. I love that sound.

“I think I deserve it, don’t you?” She shrugged in response. I pulled her closer, so close her body moulded to mine. “You’re my wife. I want to do this the right way. I want to do it all with you. I want this to be real.”

“Real?”

“I don’t want to push you away anymore. I want to bury myself in you.” I whispered in her ear as she took a deep breath. “Let me bury myself inside of you.” I purred against her sweet lips. My hands slowly traveled from her hips to her waist taking in every curve. I dragged my fingers just below her breasts to unbutton her shirt. I slid it down her arms leaving trails of goosebumps on her skin. I knew by the uneven rise and fall of her beautiful chest she wanted me just as badly.

“Please.” She said breathlessly tearing my shirt off and throwing it across the room.

Y/N’s head fell back as I kissed her neck, sucking down on the sensitive skin. Her fingers laced in between the strands of my hair as she kept me close. She rolled her hips against mine painfully slow as she met my gaze. The look in her eyes was more than enough to send me over the edge. She continued and I was could feel myself lose control. Y/N stopped without warning sensing my predicament. I held her hips with such force I’m certain she’d be covered with bruises. I want her. I need her to move- to move faster, but she refused to give me what I wanted. She was going to make me beg- and I would- I will. A seductive smirk covered her face. She enjoyed teasing me.

“I need you.” I panted trying to compose myself.

“I know.” She whispered in my ear unaware of just how much I worshipped her. She left wet kisses down my neck and chest as she pushed me until my back met the rug. I gawked at her unable to form any words. Unable to do anything but follow her every move.

She made me so weak.

I watched as she unzipped my pants sliding them down my legs.

She looked deep into my eyes as she removed my boxers.

I was so lost in her eyes that being completely naked in front of her didn’t register. The only thing on my mind was her.

The immense feeling of emptiness took over me as Y/N stood letting her panties fall to the ground.

I extended my arms folding them behind my head as I admired the view. She smiled bashfully before returning to her place- on top of me. Oh how I loved this view.

I reached out touching her anywhere-everywhere. I never thought anything would feel so good. Look so good. Taste so good.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, holding onto my shoulders lowering herself onto me.

I could feel everything.

I love the way she feels. I never want to go without her again. I’m hooked.

Her warmth tightened around me as she took me in deeper. Her eyes squeezed shut adjusting to me. The sound of my name falling from her lips only fueled my neediness.

My eyes rolling back at the sensation of her. I’ve missed out on this for too long. I glanced down at our connected bodies before quickly flipping us over. I settled in between her legs. I needed to be on top of her. I needed more. My hand traveled up her outer thighs and I took the opportunity to wrap her legs around me.

“You feel so- so good.” I lowered myself to meet her lips once again as I began to thrust into her. She interlocked her ankles behind my back pulling me in deeper each time.

“Faster!” Her voice was full of lust and it drove me wild. “Michael! Please!”

“Y/N!”

The room filled with the overwhelming sound of us satisfying one another. She brought something out in me I couldn’t explain. I licked and sucked on every part of her glorious body. Each moment better than the last.

She kissed me like I’ve never been kissed before. Her lips so soft. Her tongue so sweet. Kissing her came natural to me. Kissing her made me feel alive. Kissing her was like breathing. I needed it to live. I needed her to live.

“I’m going to-“ I felt myself release inside of her. The sting of Y/N’s fingernails dragging down the length of my back adding to my pleasure. We were both panting, but insistent on staying connected. Insistent on burying myself inside of her over and over again.

“Please!” Her lustful cries echoed off the walls as she clenched around me. Watching her come undone made me want to do this- do her all night- every night.

“Michael!” I collapsed on top of her resting my head on her voluminous chest.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” She began laughing uncontrollably. I looked up at her seeing a genuine smile gracing her face.

“What is it?”

“I can’t believe we just did that.” She sheepishly covered her face and I immediately pulled her hands into mine. Forcing her to look at me.

“I wish we had done it sooner.” I smiled kissing her deeply.

“The floor was fun.. Can we maybe try a couch or a mattress next time?”

“Next time?” I moved sliding my arms under her neck and legs lifting her up and walking out of the closet into our bedroom. I laid her on the bed gently spreading her legs with the tips of my fingers. “Who said I was done with you?” I chuckled leaning down kissing her inner thighs.

“Michael! Oh my-”

“Relax, I’ve got you baby.”

[rileyslibrary]

Living With Ghosts: 4. Pretty Broken

His body stands straight, but his mind betrays him. He still wears his gun around his left shoulder. It looks too heavy for him now, just like his conscience.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,150

Notes:

Warnings: Mentions of blood and war

As much as I like Ghost’s demeanor throughout the game, I cannot help but wonder what he would be like suffering the aftereffects of war.

Entire work on AO3

Table of Contents

———————————————————————

It’s been days since you last talked to him.

His inattentiveness, however, was not the outcome of your petty little brawl—not the direct consequence, at least. If you had to venture a guess, it’s because he was busy with other matters at the moment—far more important ones.

The Russian Mafia appears to have increased its presence in the region over the past week, raising suspicions of a potential terrorist attack. As a result, the CIA has requested high readiness from the Special Forces operators deployed in the area.

That’s where he is, you fool. It doesn’t matter how abandoned, lonely, or insecure you feel, for he had a job to do. He was right there, at the front line, risking his life for the nation’s—and probably the world’s—safety. You were the last thing on his mind right now; if you ever were anything to him but a mild inconvenience.

Let’s not forget that you also had a part to play in this operation; to actively scan land, air, and sea for irregular traffic and report to the CIA.

Well, not actively, per se—the safe house has a well-equipped wine cellar for that specific purpose.

“Surveillance Control Center,” they call it—SCC for short.

What was once used to store ruby-red Chianti Classico Riserva bottles can now be confused with the cockpit of a spaceship. The CIA engineers have outdone themselves with this one—you give them that.

The SCC is part of a computer network connecting every CIA safe house in the Mediterranean. It incorporates CCTV monitors, cameras, radars, and motion sensors designed to detect unusual movements in the region. Live-streaming feeds are processed using highly sophisticated software, which, upon catching unusual traffic, alerts the SCC’s terminal. The wine cellar also houses an arsenal of weapons and ammunition, just in case the shit hits the fan.

Your job, for now, is to oversee the SCC’s flawless operation and inform Laswell of any findings.

Boring; that’s what your job was. Boring.

“Christmas is coming,” Laswell’s voice sounded over the telephone, “You guys should do something to celebrate.”

“Do what, exactly, Kate? Go from house to house and sing carols on behalf of the CIA?” You reply, leaning forward as if you were trying to physically get your point across.

“If you’d stop being a sarcastic shit, then perhaps you could think a little better.” Her irritation rasped in her voice. “Do something together; think of it as a team-building event.”

He said he’d fix that attitude of yours; when was that team-building event going to take place?

She was right, though—as much as you’d hate to admit it. Christmas does bring people together.

You begin to reminisce about the good times back home when your family used to celebrate every year. You used to cook together, sing along to festive songs, watch Mr. Bean on television, and exchange gifts.

You remember your mother, who refrained from buying ornaments from the shops. She used to bake them instead—yes, bake them. She used to roll out the dough, give shape to it with cookie cutters and bake the ornaments so you would all decorate the Christmas tree with them. The entire house smelled divine with these four little ingredients she used in her recipe—cinnamon, salt, flour, and water.

Ingredients you already had in your pantry.

“Laswell, when’s my shift ending?” you asked in anticipation.

“It ended thirty-seven minutes ago. Tired of me?”

“I thought of something.” You announce, sitting on the edge of your seat.

“Wha-”

“I have to go. Over and out.” You report as you close the comms and head upstairs to the infamous pantry.

Cinnamon, salt, flour, and water.

You were determined to make it work, right here, in this safe house—with or without Ghost.

You hurried outside, scanning the area for the tree branches he trimmed a few weeks ago. If you tie them together, you could create something resembling a Christmas tree.

When was the last time he felt the Christmas spirit? Does he have a Christmas tree at his house? A family to sing together next to the fireplace? A warm, festive meal?

You moved frantically—part Christmas elf rolling out dough and baking ornaments, part Frankenstein trying to assemble a Christmas tree monstrosity.

Time flew by; hours passed like minutes as you worked hard, your creativity unleashed, putting forth your best effort to create something out of nothing.

To create festive decor out of raw ingredients.

To construct a tree out of stray branches.

To form a connection out of two peoples’ broken pieces.

“What’s that smell?”

You were so focused that you didn’t notice him standing behind you.

You turn around to see a wreck, the fragments of a man who has probably seen terrible things and done far worse.

“I—is everything all right?” You hesitate.

“Out of trouble, for now.” He replies.

His body stands straight, but his mind betrays him. He still wears his gun around his left shoulder. It looks too heavy for him now, just like his conscience.

“Yes, I know. I spoke with Laswell. I mean, are you all right?”

“Been better.”

His uniform is dusty, and his boots are covered in mud. There is a slight rip on his balaclava, teasing you with a subtle view of his jawline, like a Geisha exposing her nape.

“It’s over, for now.” you try to comfort him.

There’s blood on his left sleeve—a lot of blood. He just became aware of it as well.

“Not mine.” He announces and hides it behind his back. “What’s that smell?” He repeats, trying to avoid the conversation.

“Cinnamon.”

“Ya bakin’?” He seems shocked.

“Sort of; They’re ornaments for the Christmas tree,” you say, pointing in the direction of your most recent creation.

“A Christmas tree.” He stutters, glazed eyes darting left and right, assessing the new environment.

You want to tell him that there are no booby traps here, nothing dangerous to be careful of. You want to console him that there is no need to be alerted for an ambush here, for this is a safe space. No more killing, no more death, for now. Just you two, a hideous Christmas tree, and badly shaped cinnamon-baked ornaments.

“Do you like them?” You ask reluctantly, trying to divert his attention from this week’s horrors. “I couldn’t find any cookie cutters, so I shaped them with a knife instead. I tried to make them look pretty, but some came out broken.”

“Aren’t we all?” he mumbles as he walks towards the Christmas tree.

“Aren’t we all exactly what, lieutenant—pretty or broken?” you ask, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Pretty broken, kid,” he whispers as he picks up a shattered ornament. “Pretty damn broken.”

———————————————————————

Next ->

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group A Round 4: To Your Eternity vs Shadows House

#A7: To Your Eternity (Fumetsu no Anata e)

Immortal being learns what it’s like to be human

#A5: Shadows House

Two girls unravel mysteries surrounding an isolated manor

Details and poll under the cut!

#A7: To Your Eternity (Fumetsu no Anata e)

Summary:

An Orb, known only as It, is cast to Earth to be observed from afar. Capable of changing forms from beings whose reflections It captures, It first becomes a rock and then, due to the rising temperature, moss.

It does not move until one snowy day, a wolf at death’s door barely crosses by. When It takes the animal’s form, It attains awareness of its consciousness and starts to wander with an unclear destination in mind. Soon, It comes across the wolf’s master—a young boy waiting for his tribe to return from a paradise abundant with fish and fruit in the south. Although the boy is lonely, he still hopes those whom he holds dear in his memories have not forgotten him and that he will reunite with them one day.

The boy wants to explore new surroundings and decides to abandon his home with It to find the paradise using the traces his tribe left behind. However, with a heavily injured body and no sight of his elder comrades, what will become of the boy?

Propaganda:

I don’t think I’ve ever watched an anime that has meant so much. It’s/Fushi’s journey from being born as nothing and without emotions, to becoming a genuine, real person who loves and cries is so special to me. The constant war he’s in between being too human and being not human at all is written so well—for him to love so much it hurts, leading him to isolate himself for years on end, for him to want to make friends, to love, but too afraid of them leaving and eventually dying to meet anyone new. For him to get so detached from life and death and the cycle it perpetuates that he loses understanding of why human life is so special—why should he save people, if they will die anyway? Why should he save them, if he can just bring them back to life, if he can just become them? The constant cycle of him learning to love again, and learning to treasure life again, only to lose it once he’s experienced death in a new and agonizing way. It’s about love, and it’s about humanity. Always.

Trigger Warnings: Animal Cruelty/Death, Child Abuse, Graphic Depictions of Cruelty/Violence/Gore, Racism, Rape/Non-Con, Self-Harm, Suicide

All TW’s apply to the protagonists, except child abuse and the racism. The world itself has hints of racism/discrimination throughout the anime, and not directly towards the protagonist. As for the rape, an antagonist attempts to rape the protagonist. There is a ton of self harm (protagonist and side characters) and blood as there is a lot of wars also happening in the anime

#A5: Shadows House

Summary:

The Shadows, characterized by their pitch-black appearance and tendency to emit soot when agitated, are a family of nobles who reside in a colossal manor deep within the mountains far from other humans. When a Shadow child is nearly of-age, they are assigned a Living Doll who acts not only as their attendant but also as their second half—the faces they could have had if not for their complexion.

Emilico is a cheerful, newly created Doll who serves a rather soft-spoken master named Kate. Despite their difference in personalities, Emilico does what she can to carry out the needs of her master. As she learns more about her role and duty, Emilico begins to meet her fellow Dolls and their respective masters and comes to know more about the purpose of her existence.

"Do not fret over trivial matters," says one of the rules by which all Dolls must abide. But how could the ever-curious Emilico do so in the face of the deep secrets that the Shadows House holds?

Propaganda:

The atmosphere of the manor is probably the most effective aspects of the story, creating a feeling of isolation and worry as Kate and Emilico try to survive in the mansion. The show starts off pretty subtle, but as it progresses it becomes more and more strange and off-putting. This series is an incredibly interesting, layered mystery, and the horror elements are excellently done.

Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how it’s presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form with your revisions, and I’ll consider adapting those changes.

New: Starting round 5, screenshots will be included in the poll post. You can submit screenshots through the form linked above, or through here, via ask or dm.

Guidelines in submitting screenshots:

No NSFW or spoilery images.

Pick some good images please. Don’t send any blurry or pixelated ones.

You may send up to 9 screenshots, but not all may be used.

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

Hii, could you please write something with tara carpenter dating a fem reader but she doesn't know reader is ghostface. Like angst but with a happy ending ~ 🐳

I’m so sorry this took so long to post, please forgive me 😭😭🐳

3rd Person POV

You sat in the ambulance next to Tara who was currently trying to hug her arms around your torso. You laugh softly pushing her down in the bed.

The blue and red lights dancing across your faces from the open door, bodies were being wheeled out of the house.

You caught sight of Mindy on a gurney giving a thumbs up waving excitedly when they put her next to her brother.

Sam was speaking quietly with Sidney and Gale as Tara turned to the paramedic.

"Can we go to a different hospital this time?"

You chuckled underneath your breath squeezing her hand in reassurance as the medic promised they would not be going to the same local hospital.

Sam climbed in next to you her eyes closing in exhaustion as you thought back to the events prior.

This did not go according to plan.

You almost shook your head in absolute disgust as you thought of how sloppy Amber and Richie had gotten once they had gotten to Act three.

Originally you had all planned to lure Sam and pin the murders on her and the original final Girls of the Woodsboro massacre. The idea was that their shared grief had turned into something sinister over time. They would later recruit the twisted mind of the last living kin to Billy Loomis. It was almost perfect, the idea of not only everyones favorite heroes living king enough to become villains but to introduce the idea of creating a cult.

However, Amber had failed to stay on task when she'd put Tara in the closet and Richie couldn't contain Sam. You weren't in the room but you kept eyes and ears on the two at all times. Knowing they had crossed the line when they hurt Tara and were willing to do even more if provoked.

Hurting Tara was never part of the plan and even now you felt yourself scowling as the two continued to try to use her as bait for the Loomis girl.

Only once.

After they had stabbed her at her house and Sam came they were supposed to leave her alone. Even then their attack was far more excessive than it was supposed to be.

They stabbed her seven times and broke her leg.

When they had come back from the hospital you decided to interrupt their plans by freeing Sam and Tara. While Sam wasn't your favorite person for all she had done to her sister.....

Like abandoning her when she needed her most.

You still knew that she'd be your best chance for Tara's survival.

After all, everything you'd done was for her. You didn't want someone else to find the truth behind her family history so you took matters in your own hands.

You wanted to eliminate the risk of revenge, the risk of her getting killed. The best part…your hands would have been relatively clean.

And then those two fucked it up...

Now you would have to reconsider who would want to cause harm to the younger Carpenter.

Now you'd have to consider new killers, new motives.

You sighed glancing to the small girl on the gurney who was already looking at you.

Her doe eyed smile made one appear on your face.

You leaned down placing a soft kiss on her forehead making her eyes shut.

For now she was safe and so long as you were breathing she always would be.

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The subtleties of the force part five- final

You are from this world, but at a convetion you stumble into the world between worlds, eventually falling into the Star Wars galaxy. Slow burn Anakinxreader content due to reader trying to keep the timeline straight.This is a long one, as I had put all chapters below so strap in. Begins at the start of AOTCFem reader, I hope you enjoy.

Convention lines were always long and this one had been no different. Alone once more you stepped forward, hesitation and excitement fighting for dominance in your stomach. In your hand you held a pile of promotional headshots, actors from a movie you had loved for years. You had always dreamed that one day you might find that your own father was a great hero and not the man who abandoned your mother and you. It had not happened yet so you supposed it never would. Looking down at your hands you could see the beginnings of age creeping over you, age spots covered the slowly thinning skin. Were you really closing in on your fifties? No family to rely on, no one there when you needed a friend, nothing. You'd lived an empty life. A staff member whose face seemed blurred in some way ushered you forward allowing you to step up to the celebrities. A pair of brown eyes met yours and you felt a twinge of sadness.

"Y/n?" Natalie Portman narrowed her eyes on you. You ignored the use of your name, took the picture back from her and moved on.

Ewan McGregor took your next picture and signed his name across it before looking up at you.

"Y/n? What?" His voice sounded miles away and you stepped away once more.

"Mother?" The voice of Mark Hamill caught your attention but that word didn't make sense, you must have heard it wrong. Were you dressed in cosplay? You check but no, you're in simple jeans. You can see the person you wanted to meet the most at the end of the line and you walked. A trance falling over you as people called out to you. Hayden Christensen looked up, his blue eyes catching yours. Panic filled him and you wondered if you were doing something wrong. He was rounding the tables and coming toward you. Hands grabbed your shoulders and dragged you away. Hayden reaches for you but misses your hand.

"Hmmm, her mind is confused. It will be hard to push our way in." The grand inquisitor huffed.

"Maybe we should take her straight to the Emperor?" Reva, the third sister suggested.

The two looked at each other, a conversation continuing in their minds.

The larger man turned once more to your body, placing his hand over your head.

"Perhaps I can at least clear her mind a little before we reach him"

Reva nods.

Everything stopped. The lights of the city, the noise of people, are all gone. You knelt holding your arms around your body in a dark room. You knew there was nothing there, no doors, no windows, no furniture. You know you need to keep everything locked away, pretend like you are nothing. The feeling of denticles wriggling through your mind comes again, slowly turning into the scratching of spiders.

'You will find nothing.' You spit out the words.

A cold wind whips around you and snow appears below you. Reaching out you touch the snow, feeling your fingers beginning to freeze. What place could be this cold? No place on Earth, illium perhaps or Florium, Both? You had never been to Both, so it could not be in your mind. This place was not a memory but knowledge. Your body is flung backwards.

Children are playing, not your children. No this is a street on Earth. Your street. Children are running by you in the summer heat. Turning away from them you see your home, a tall house with many levels, each an apartment. A hand slides into yours and you turn to see Anakin beside you.

"I know you haven't been here for a long time, y/n, but don't worry it's just while we're shooting this film." He kisses the side of your head and you feel soothed. Wait…did he say shooting a film?

"Sure, Anakin." You try out the name, he laughs with his whole body.

"You're going to call me that the whole time aren't you?" His smile was hard to ignore.

"As long as you let me." You say. He begins to lead you up the steps when you feel something off. Your feet feel too light, like you aren't walking on the paving slabs.

'This isn't real' you think, pulling your hand from his and spinning you're back in the dark empty room. No, it's not empty any more. There is a man, his skin is white, and eyes are yellow. The Grand Inquisitor. He cannot see you, his hand is hovering above something you cannot see. You feel your lightsaber in your hand and you approach him. In silence you place the hilt against his back.

"Stay out of my mind." You hiss and ignite your blade. The purple colour bursting from his chest.

The Grand Inquisitor stumbles back. A hole burned through his body. He drops to his knees and falls down. Reva, steps to him.

"Dead? She killed you from inside her mind."

—---

"Is Luke okay?" Leia asks her father, bending down to hug him from behind. Anakin sat in the pilot seat of the millennium falcon.

"The Droids say he is fine. The whimper got him good but he's a Skywalker, we're a hard bunch to kill." He pats his daughter's hand.

"We'll find her, father. We'll find all of them."

He smiles at her, "how did you become so smart?"

"I got it from my mother." She grinned, winking at him.

"Heh, yeah you did. She'd never do what we are though."

"I'm not going home without my family. Han found Luke, so now we're going to find mother." Leia kept her face stoic as she spoke.

"That you get from me." Anakin smiled.

"So what are we going to do?" She asks

"The only thing left to do. I was supposed to be the chosen one, bring balance to the force. So let's go kill the Sith."

Leia thought for a moment, pressing her lips together.

"Do you think that's what it means?" She asked.

"What else could it mean?"

"Well, forever there have been Jedi and Sith, at least two on each side. That's pretty balanced but what if, dad, what if it means that force users should be balanced?"

Anakin turned himself fully round to face his daughter.

"I know it sounds crazy but what if the only way to defeat the Emperor is by letting go. Use both sides of the force?"

"I don't…you know a long time ago, when your mother and I met we sat in the old temple one night. Your mother told me things about the force that I and none of the Jedi had ever known or thought of. It was her who showed us that love could be used for good, before we weren't allowed attachments, possession was forbidden for fear that it would lead to the darkside. Now we use our love to strengthen the light."

"Sounds similar to me. Mum is always saying that you shouldn't give in to your anger and that's true but what if we used it, just a little."

Anakin nodded.

"You might be onto something. Here, take over, I need to make contact with Obi-Wan." Anakin jumped from his chair and ran to the back rooms. Chewie had fallen asleep on the round booth chair which made Anakin laugh to himself as he passed him.

—----

Obi-Wan couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go wrong. Over the years he had learned to trust his Padawan, his reckless ideas almost always worked out. Yet, now there were two more reckless Skywalkers to contend with.

"Look, I do not disbelieve or distrust your idea, I only wish to convey caution in all matters. Mace and Y/n are the only two Jedi who have been able to use their fear and anger to strengthen their abilities. Be mindful Anakin, at all times."

"I will be Master."

The hologram faded away.

"Time to save mum?"

Luke asked, his wild blue eyes glinting under the lights of the machinery.

"Let's go get mum." Anakin repeated, clapping his son on the back and pulling his daughter along behind by her hand.

*******************

Your eyes open, only to close again against the pain in your head. The room around you seemed familiar somehow. The same feeling you continued to get becoming more and more irritating.

"AHH, Madam Skywalker, lovely to have you here." The voice scratched your ears.

"Palpatine." You reply, looking at him with no respect for his self appointed title. Palpatine visabally grits his teeth at you.

"I am glad you could finally find your way out of whatever mind dungeon you had shut yourself in."

You roll your eyes.

"Oh yes, it's a decided displeasure to be in your acquaintance as always." You give him a fake grin. An Inquisitor steps forward and slaps you with the back of his gloves hand.

"You will not speak to the Emperor in such a manner." He growled. Palpatine raised his hand and gestured for him to step away.

"Not to worry, y/n will know her place soon. Your mind has given me plenty. Poor little girl, lost in her world not meant to be there. The force found you and you pulled you to exactly where you needed to be. Now, you will be mine, my apprentice."

"Ha! No way." You laugh. Palpatine steps closer to you, his face mere inches from your own, you can see the deformation of his skin below his hood. You feel and smell his rancid breath on your skin. His yellow eyes bore into yours.

"For some time now my new obsession has been you, y/n. How did a person appear from nowhere and become the strongest force wielder we have ever seen. How is it the Force could travel so far and pull you here? You must know."

You swallow and take a deep breath.

"I have been here for over twenty years, if the force has a higher meaning for me, I think we'd know it by now. Also toothpaste is a thing."

"AHH yes, make jokes all you like, you will bend to my will." He snarled.

"I didn't turn then, none of us will turn now."

He laughed, cackled in your face.

"Oh once I've turned you, Anakin and your children will follow easily."

You roll your eyes and sigh, hoping it would convert every ounce of contempt you had for him.

Heavy boots echo as they approach, too loud for the quiet room. The officer speaks to the Inquisitor who glanced nervously at you.

"My Lord Emperor, the rebels and the Jedi are here."

"Then shoot them all down, but let the Skywalkers come to me." Palpatine kept his eyes on you as he spoke.

"It seems they already are here, on the planet. They have made contact with the Natives."

Palpatine's smile became impossibly wider.

"Here they come, time for you to choose Skywalker."

"I would rather die."

"Then you will, and they will turn."

—----

Han Solo, Chewie, Anakin, Leia and Luke crouch behind trees and rocks looking at a set of troopers. Troopers with black uniforms and red flashings. They stand between several speeder bikes.

"Chewie and I will take care of this. You stay here.." Han whispers to the others.

"Quietly there might be more of them out there." Luke warns his friend.

"Hey it's me." He grins and moves away from the group.

"That's what we're afraid of." Anakin quips, winking at his daughter. Han creeps toward a trooper pulling out his gun. A twig snaps below his foot and the trooper turns. Han manges to punch him and a fight breaks out between them. Two troopers jump on speeders and rush off. Luke has only a second to register both his father and sister leaping forward onto speeders.

"Leia, dad!" He just manages to jump.on to Leia's speeder and keep hold as she pulls away. Anakin laughs as he speeds through the trees. A different climate but it felt just like the pod racing of his childhood.

The two teens took on one trooper managing to knock him from his course and smash into a tree. Anakin was enjoying the race a little too much. Toying with the trooper, he would pull up alongside him only to disappear between the trees again. Fear radiated off the nameless soldier as he tried his communications router. There was nothing but static.

Anakin appeared alongside him once more, a smile dancing upon his face as he drew his lightsaber. The trooper had no chance to react as the blade sliced through the front of the speeder and he landed in an explosion against a tree. Anakin laughed, and his children drew up beside him.

"What are we doing? Going back for the others or heading in?" Leia called to him.

"What do you say Luke?" Anakin asked.

"Let's go get her!"

They pull up the bikes and jump off them, not wanting to alert any more troopers to their presence. By foot they ran through the trees till they could see the base.

"Imperial architecture is hardly imaginative." Leia rolls her eyes.

"Well when you're a senator in the new republic you can order it all made pretty." Luke laughed.

"Alright kids, remember your training, quickly and quietly."

The twins nod to their father and move out.

The troopers and droids outside the base were little work for the three Jedi. Luke crouched next to a trooper and pulled his helmet off.

"They aren't clones." He announced.

"Count Dooku destroyed Camino a long time ago, I doubt anyone else knows how to clone people." Anakin explained as he tinkered with a battle droid.

"What are you doing?" Leia asked him.

"Nothing like a little confusion to distract the enemy." Anakin said as he pulled wires around.

"You're rewiring it." She nodded, "I'll get the door." Leia ran over to the base and started pressing buttons. The combination to the door was long but not complicated and by the time Anakin was done with the droid the doors slid open.

They directed the droid inside before slipping by and turning in the opposite direction.

The halls were dark, normal imperial interior design of black walls and tiny red lights, decorated their path through the base. The trio hadn't seen any officers, soldiers or troops for some time when Anakin stopped in his tracks.

"This is a trap." He whispered to his children, "Luke go down a level, Leia into the vents, both of you stay hidden, we'll go in the same direction and find your mother. Stay hidden until I give you a signal."

The twins agree and run off to their specified places as Anakin squared his shoulders, dropped his brown cloak to the floor and marched forward.

The closer he got to the centre of the building the colder it grew, air blew out of his mouth in clouds of vapour. He could hear you somewhere inside, your low grunts of pain emitting through the walls. Though he desperately wanted to charge in and destroy whoever was hurting you he knew he needed to be more calculated. Steadying his breathing Anakin used the force to open the final door. Turning to him the Emperor plunged his crimson sabre through your body. You cried out for your husband, feeling the heat sever your spinal cord. He drops you to the ground and you hit your chin.

"Ahh at last, we meet again. Are you ready now, my boy?"

Anakin smiled. He did not care about the Inquisitors that circled him.

"Thank you, Emperor, you have given me exactly what I need." Anakin's eyes flashed yellow for a moment as he spoke and felt his body full with new power. Ignoring his sabre he charged forward. Behind him Leia dropped from the vents cutting down one of the inquisitors before Luke emerged from below. The battle went on around you as you struggled to keep yourself awake. A pair of hands touched your shoulders and you spun your face round.

"Cody, you're okay?"

"I sure am madam Skywalker. Let's get you out of here." He grinned, pulling at you.

"I can't walk." You force out. Cody lifts you into his arms and runs for the exit, dodging and weaving through the fighting force users.

"How did you escape?" You ask him, arms clinging around his neck.

"I was only clipped.in the shoulder ma'am, your son found me in a cell." He hits the door with his boots hoping it would open.

Looking over his shoulder you see the last inquisitor fall limp to the ground, his head rolling away. Your two children stood triumphant above their enemies.

"You played it wrong, Palpatine. Hurting my wife doesn't make me weak." Anakin held his adversary around the neck with the force.

"Yes, good, give into your anger." Palpatine hissed out the words.

"I don't need to." Anakin laughed, clenching his fingers as if they were clamped around the Emperor's neck.

The Emperor let out his own strangled laugh and pointed his fingers toward Anakin. Blue lightning burst out of them and struck Anakin. He faulted slightly, taking a step back but holding himself still. Luke and Leia ran up behind him putting their hands on their father's shoulders.

"I am the Empire, the galaxy and the Sith." Palpatine growled.

"And we are the Jedi and the Force." They spoke in unison, the two children bringing their hands up in front of them. You closed your eyes and called out to any Jedi who could hear you.

Around the galaxy, within each system force users heard your voice. They stood and closed their eyes, focusing in on the room. Power surged through the trio. A beam of golden light shone from their hands and engulfed the Emperor. Red and blue sparked from all around them as the Emperor's skin peeled from his body. Slowly he faded into nothing. A mass of robes and dust fell to the ground.

Your husband and children dropped to their knees.

"What was that?" Luke asked.

"I don't know but it worked." Anakin said standing up. He turns to you and rushes to your side.

"Take her, General. The men and I will get this all cleaned up." Cody passed you over to Anakin, the pain in your back spasmed with their movements but your legs dangled limply. Leia told Cody to put the Emperor's remains in a box and seal it away.

************

Immediately after the rescue of you and the galaxy Senator Organa is given the role of Chancellor and begins to build a new republic senate. It would take years to rebuild the trust amongst the planets and the people but they were finally willing to put in the time.

All imperial buildings were demolished to make way for rehabilitation centres.

The Mandalorians returned to their home world, the Clone troopers were given full citizenship of any planet they chose, free to live a normal life.

And the Jedi?

The Jedi were gone, at least the order that had once been known. A new way had begun, the Skywalkers taught everyone how to use both sides of the force, to create a balanced life.

Though the healers and medic droids had tried they could never fully repair your spinal cord. Though you could walk and move about it was often short lived and used much of your focus to do. Anakin insisted on always being by your side, you didn't mind one bit. Sometimes at night you would dream of the life you left behind, a life of loneliness. You traded that life each time for the one you have now.

Though many of the old Jedi slowly grew old and died you relished on seeing the new council ascend. Obi-Wan became grandmaster after Yoda became one with the force. You, Anakin, Ahsoka and an extremely skilled young man, called Cal, held seats alongside him.

One year after the Empire's defeat you watched as Anakin walked Leia down the aisle, followed soon by the birth of her son with Han Solo. Ben was a beautiful boy, the image of his father and the spirit of his mother. He was followed by a brother three years later, baby Anakin's blue eyes shone just as bright as his namesake.

Luke two found love with Mara Jade, mandalorian born with skills unmatched by so many in the force. Two more grandchildren blessed your life Jacen and Jaina.

Anakin and you slowly grew older until you decided it was time to retire from the council, and live a quiet life. You watched your grandchildren grow into adults, Ben found a girl, lost in the deserts of Jakku.

You saw it the moment you met her, though you would never tell a soul of her ancestry. Rey quickly became a part of a family and gave you a great granddaughter who named after you.

Finally sixty years after your arrival, forty years after the emperor's demise you and Anakin laid down once more beside each other.

Anakin held you in his arms and you kissed him one last time in your corporeal bodies before both of you became one with the force. Content and happy and together with the force finally, truly balanced across the universe. At least it would be for the next three thousand years. The republic would thrive until amongst the depths of Moraband a spark would ignite. A child would be born and the saga of the Skywalkers would begin again.

The end.

An - Hey, I have used names from the Legends cannon in this part though swapping parentage to accommodate the current Cannon as well. I decided on a happy ending for the galaxy.

Hope you all enjoyed the story. Thank you so much for coming along this journey with me.

Please do no post anywhere else reblogs are fine. Interact and let me know what you think. (I may do an alternative ending)

[phanfictioncatalogue]

(Lost)In The Woods Masterlist

A Blue Starfall - wavydanrises

Summary: Phil is a botanist who enjoys going on hikes through the woods, when someday he walks into someone quite… particular. He didn’t believe in coincidences, so maybe it really was fate that guided his steps.

A million little suns (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan is just trying to get as far away from his home town as possible at Christmas when he gets stuck in a snow storm. He’s rescued by an enigmatic stranger who take him back to his cabin in the mountains. What Dan doesn’t know is that his rescuer is prolific, best-selling writer of erotica, Ricky Blitz. Will Dan end up with a porn-worthy situation all of his own? (hint: yes)

Porn with feels and some Christmas magic.

An Unusual Pack (ao3) - Do_it_with_the_Howell_Lesters

Summary: In a world where supernatural creatures exist, outcasts Dan and Phil find themselves forming an unlikely pack of two to survive in their world.

Cabin in the Woods (ao3) - dip_and_pip_trash

Summary: Two bros, chilling in a cabin. What could possibly go wrong?

caught between the tides (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: dan is alone in a post apocalyptic world, following the coast of the sea and heading north, avoiding what’s left of humanity at all costs. until, desperate and losing hope, he stumbles across a cabin in the woods that isn’t quite as uninhabited as it first appears.

Everybody Has Secrets (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: (tw) Phil Lester is a nerdy guy that no one really pays attention to. Dan Howell is an intimidating badass who becomes more of an enigma as you get to know him, although people rarely do. They might not have much in common, but it soon becomes apparent that everyone has secrets.

Exile (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Exile’s a fucking bitch. Dan finds himself kicked out of town and searching for literally anywhere out of the rain - somehow, he must have just enough luck, as he stumbles upon a seemingly abandoned house in the middle of the forest. Except it isn’t abandoned, and the resident isn’t exactly…normal…

Let's Go From Here (ao3) - afunnyworld

Summary: Dan gets lost while playing Pokemon GO. He meets Phil while trying to find his way back.

Red and the wolf (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Phil was used to walking through the forest after having visited his grandmother’s cottage. He never felt particular unsafe... until his possible-physic nana - at least if you asked her - was warning him that someone would take his heart and he might not make the trip alive. Phil wasn’t sure if her words caused the paranoia or if someone dangerous were truly lurking in the bushes.

Sacrilegious (ao3) - TheUKAmazingDan

Summary: Dan Howell was a good kid. A Catholic, growing up in Mass and youth group. But, after meeting Phil Lester, his life drastically changed, turning the quiet and meek boy into a wild child.

The Clearing (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan and Phil decide to head out to the woods for a short vacation. Phil makes sure this weekend is unforgettable.

The Stranger In The Woods - doomedhowell

Summary: Dan is on his way to his friends house when a storm hits and he gets lost in the middle of the woods where there’s clearly no one around and no way for him to get help. At least, that’s what he thinks until he sees a cabin with lights on inside. Dan had been in a hurry before but after meeting the stranger who lives in the cabin, he might like to stay a bit longer.

The Trampoline - jilliancares

Summary: Dan’s very gay and very in love with Phil, who has always been 100% straight. Also, there’s a trampoline.

Under the trees and shooting starts - wavydanrises

Summary: Dan’s parents have insisted that he comes with them on a family holiday at a hiking camp in the middle of the woods, and he isn’t too happy about that for various reasons. Until he meets the son of the owners, who works there.

WE’RE ALL DOOMED! (ao3) - idkspookystuff

Summary: it’s 2022, the sun is about to explode, and dan and phil go to the woods to reflect on the end

What are we doing? (ao3) - i_rat

Summary: Two silly gays in the forest.

[decadentworld]

The Baptism.

Billy’s journey to changing his last name, in a last attempt to fully disassociate himself from Neil, takes him to a place he’d never have expected.

※ Billy Hargrove-centric. Side Billy Hargrove/Male Reader.

※ 3,106 words

※ Personal work (not request).

※ Trigger warnings: Child physical, verbal, and emotional abuse. Gaslighting. This might be very triggering for some people.

※ Content & warnings: Original character. Hurt/Comfort. Billy cries a lot. Character death. Non-graphic mentions of smut at the end. Neil is in jail because I said so but it’s not mentioned.

※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.

Billy’s always wanted to do change his last name. Initially, he wanted his mom’s last name, but after everything that’s happened and the growth he’s had, he finally understood that, while his mom might have showed him some kindness, she still abandoned him. Left him to rot in that cemetery he had to call house, with the man who murdered him on the inside. She did; Billy did not jump to conclusions. He did his detective homework and found her having already formed another family. So, in that same vein, he does not want to associate himself with her anymore. It hurts to have this notion of his challenged, but it’s getting better with time.

Billy thinks. Paces, in his mind. Scratches at his head, thinking what else there could be, where he could get a new last name from.

At your now shared house, his newfound group of friends (friends!) try to give him some help. Mostly.

“What about your grandpa’s last name?”, asks the puppy of a metalhead he has as a friend.

“Dumbass. That’s ma’s last name, too.”

“Oh. Right.”

The exasperated babysitter chimes in. “Can any of your relatives reclaim you?”

“No living relatives that I know of, Harrington. Plus, I’m already legal. What’s the use?”

“You can still be adopted if you’re over eighteen. Maybe Susan could adopt you…? She has the grounds for it, now.” The badass columnist has a point. But.

But.

Billy looks uneasy. “M-Maybe not.”

There’s a bit of rueful tension after this. You, his anchor, hold his hand and rub circles on it with your thumb.

Billy’s newfound emotional support lesbian chimes in with a sly smile, and she’s joking, but. “Maybe you could take his last name, hm?” Points at you. Wiggles her eyebrows.

Billy blushes so darkly he has to hide in your chest. But quickly deflates. Right. It’s not allowed.

Maybe he cries a little bit over it at night.

And one day, the epiphany.

His littlest superheroine touches his cheek again, like he always allows her to, ever since that 4th of July.

“You have a memory right here. On the tip of your tongue. Wants to come out.”

“Which of all, mousey?”

Her eyes quickly flit over left and right. “A woman. Is old. Has kind eyes.”

Billy feels something rattle at his chest. “What do you mean?”

“She is good to you. Touches you like I am. Makes it better. But is so… ‘ephemeral’.”

Billy doesn’t realize he’s tearing up. Doesn’t even ask the girl where she learnt that big person word. “Wh-What— What does she look like?”

“Red hair, but it’s… She dyed it. Her teeth are all crooked. Her right eye is—”

“White.” Billy can’t speak. “C-Cataract.”

How could he forget? How could he have forgotten?

Granny Maude.

Billy saw her exactly one time in his life, but he’s not sure why he might have forgotten about her even then, for all the impact that she had in his young life.

Billy’s mind fills in the blanks. A little Billy running away from home, limping all the way across the empty beach at night, right after Neil laid into him with steel-toed boots included. When he can’t run anymore, he still runs a little more, just so that he can collapse on the doorstep of a random house and bang his fists on the door.

That’s the only time in his life when Billy asks for: “Help.”

He sees her so clearly right now. He recalls almost being thrown off by her appearance at first, but quickly pushing this aside when she takes him into her little secluded house, sits him on her rickety old individual sofa, asks him if he’s alright, gives him water, aspirin, treats him so nicely that he cries. Ruefully tells him he looks like someone she knows. Asks his full name so that she can call the police.

“Hargrove?” It’s not a common last name. The old lady has a foreboding at the back of her mind. Quickly puts her hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Sonny, what is your father called?”

Little Billy tells her. It can’t be possible. The septuagenarian runs to the phone but the banging on the door stops her.

“Maude, open up! I know he’s in here!” The booming voice of the monster roars.

The woman continues to the phone, dials the emergency line, starts to rely the message but the quick turning of a key in a keyhole makes the phone slip off her hands and shatter on the floor from the impact.

The big bad barges in and rips the base of the rotary phone off the wall for good measure.

“You never told me you had a son! I have a grandson?!”, she screams at him with all the vigour a 74-year-old can manage.

“Senile bitch. This doesn’t concern you.” The villain’s boots shake the foundation of the house as he approaches his son. He grabs him by the hair. “I fucking hate you right now. I do not want to hear a single word from you—”

“How can you treat your own son like that—”

“Shut up! Cops are on their way and not for me. Maybe they’ll finally commit you.” He turns to the boy. “Go to the fucking car. Get in and don’t let a single person see you. If anyone does, I’ll fucking kill you.”

It’s a bit of a blur after that. From what the therapist told him, it’s normal that his mind might have supressed some memories, especially if they had to do with Neil’s abuse.

Wait. The words. He remembers— He keeps hearing them—

“She doesn’t exist, William. She’s not fucking real. Forget that you ever thought up someone like that. She’s not real.”

He understands. Neil forced him to forget she ever existed.

And as always, with everything Neil said, Billy obeyed.

Billy finds himself hysterical and screaming with how much he’s crying after resurfacing from this memory. Jonathan, Will, Joyce, and Jim are now on the sides of him, trying to calm him down without understanding much of what’s going on.

“H-He made me forget her. He m-made me think she n-never existed. But she’s real. She’s real.”

She’s real. Or was.

Deep digging doesn’t do much this time. Any leads on who Maude Hargrove is or might have been are hard to follow. Which is when it occurs to them to hire Murray, see if he has any knowledge on genealogical tree tracking.

And he does. He’s an expert, actually.

“Largo al factotum, I said.” And with that sentence, he closes the case.

Maude Rathbone.

It turns out she never took her husband’s last name. Billy commends her for it, knows how unusual and frowned upon that must have been in her era.

Maude Rathbone passed away at the age of 77 in 1981, when Billy was about to turn 14, about four years after that fateful night. She died not in the comfort of her cozy old home or in a caring nursing facility, but in a psychiatric hospital. Neil did end up committing her that night. Dialed the charm up and told the police officers he was so worried for his mother, that he was afraid she was turning senile, that she had called him into her home because she was seeing a boy that just wasn’t there. No one even bothered to check Neil’s car, within which a frail little boy was fearing for his life.

Billy learns a new word in therapy the next day: ‘Gaslight’.

Murray helps them more. The next few days you, Billy, and Hopper gear up and go to the psychiatric facility all the way in California to get more answers.

Everyone there believed Neil that time. Who wouldn’t have? A charming middle-aged man versus an old woman they found undesirable because they thought cataracts and crooked missing teeth and cheap red dye was a sign of poverty, of carelessness, of mental illness. All things society is not ready to tolerate. The folks in charge at the psychiatric are nonchalant as they imply all this when the three ask for a Maude Rathbone, saying she wrote letters to a boy that didn’t exist, that they assured her the boy received if only to palliate the outbursts of a senile elder in her last days. Only, those letters never left the facility.

But when Billy soon-to-be-ex-Hargrove announces himself as that very boy, the people in charge can’t believe it.

“Of course I’m fucking real, you fucking assholes! ‘You never thought to look me up or anything?!”

Hopper lets him have this. He all but demanded to be brought in with you and Billy if there needed to be some more convincing on his behalf, but he figures it’s not necessary, in the end.

Obviously, they allow him to take all those letters and the rest of her trinkets with them. It’s the least they can do.

Later in the evening, at the hotel, you comfort Billy, who’s already started to cry as he reads the first letter.

Dear Billy,

You are real and I am real. Whatever my son has told you, because I know he has, is untrue. That man is a real piece of work and never told me about you. War changed him, but that’s not an excuse for him, because he walked right into it all on his own. He would get violent with me, cut all contact with me because I was spot on in telling him he was spiraling. Reminds me of Mortimer, but the piece of shit died before he was even born, so I had quite a few years of peace before all that.

Billy laughs softly between his tears and lays his head on your shoulder. Mortimer Hargrove was her husband, Neil’s father. So his grandfather was also shitty, but he felt glad Maude could lay into him and say things like they were.

Neil got paranoid after some time. I knew he thought I was going to report him to the police. I wouldn’t have. I didn’t have anyone. No one would have believed me. So of course I believed you. He hurt you badly, his own son. I think it’s fate that you knocked on my door last night. I still don’t know if it was completely out of the blue, or if you felt like I would be welcoming enough, and for that, you are very brave.

Tears drip constantly on the yellowed sheet of paper. Billy was about to enter a void of self-deprecation, but the next few lines stop him in his tracks and pull another laugh out of him, because it’s like she was reading his mind at the moment she wrote the letter.

Now, don’t you dare think any of this is your fault, sonny. I know your kind, because I was it. I know you’re probably thinking I got put in this place because of you. Stop it. None of this could have been avoided. I would’ve surely ended up in a place like this sooner or later.

Billy disagrees. The way she expresses herself in these letters is so clear; she was extremely lucid for a 74-year-old at that moment.

Billy’s heart breaks as he keeps reading the last few lines.

Please, find me. Come live with me. We can run away from him together. I could prove to them that you’re real, and they’d give me the grounds for adoption. I know there’s no saving that monster.

I love you, sonny. I will find you somehow.

Gammy Maude

Billy breaks down in your arms. “Sh-She only knew m-me for like ten minutes and she still lov-ved me.” He starts hyperventilating. “She f-found me. She found me, in th-the end!”

It takes well over half an hour before Billy’s composed enough to keep reading the rest of the letters. His heart breaks a little more with each one.

At first, they end with:

Hope to see you soon. Love you.

But as he keeps going, it gradually turns into:

Neil’s not letting you see these, is he? Please write back.

And then, into:

Are you real? Lord, give me a sign that my sonny is real.

Fuck Neil. Fuck the police. Fuck the psychiatric handlers. Fuck society. Fuck everyone who ever saw this little old woman and wholeheartedly believed she could be a menace. Billy cries for her. Mourns her, because Lord knows no one ever did.

For the night, Billy forgets that this all started because he wanted to change his last name. Even if he can’t, in the end, he’ll content himself with this.

But he can!

“Look, she’s a direct relative. Blood-related relative. They have to allow you. It’s basically your God-given right. And if for whatever reason they wanna fight it, then all these letters of hers? They’ll be as good of an evidence as there can be. Look at the writing. The exact same as all the legal files on her name. And the signature! God, I love your grandma. She made this so easy.” Murray is almost histrionic as he shoves sheets upon sheets of paper on the table.

Billy can’t help but agree. Gammy Maude was a genius. She somehow had the foresight to add her signature onto the letters, like she knew they could be used as evidence someday.

Everything is arranged that same day.

Billy starts crying before Hopper even hands him his new identification card.

“Kid, you haven’t even seen it yet. Save the tears for after.” Another one of Hopper’s hidden skills: be persuasive enough to accelerate the ID card making process, photo-taking included. So much so that the shiny new plastic is in Hopper’s hand before the day even ends.

“C-Can’t help it, chief. This is my new life we’re talking about.”

Hopper just gives him a gruff chuckle and puts a hand on his shoulder. Billy takes the card and pointedly doesn’t look at it until he goes to stand next to you, near the stairway outside. There are curiously-colored flags in this part of California. They make Billy feel even more accepted and at home.

“Come on,” you gently encourage him. “Look at it.”

He does. The tears can’t stop.

You hold him through it, and even as his eyes get so blurry from the tears that he can’t possibly read what’s printed in the plastic card anymore, he still looks at it like his eyes are pulled to it.

That’s how everyone’s going to call him from now on.

Billy Rathbone.

Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

Billy doesn’t answer you, and you realize that he didn’t even take in your question. He cries, so hard that you worry for him, but he’s smiling so widely at the same time, and that dissipates any doubts you might have.

“You did it, honey.”

“N-No. We did it. A-All of us.”

You hoist Billy up and spin him around, rejoicing in his screaming laughter.

Back in Hawkins, things gradually change for the better.

Steve challenges him for a basketball match, wanting a redo of their previous rivalry without the bitterness.

“Come on, Rathbone. You stomped on my crown twice. Was King of Highschool and Keg as well. Not gonna let you be King of Basketball, too.”

God. Steve is so obvious with this attempt, even trying to channel his King Steve persona into his words, but Billy’s smiling so much he temporarily forgets he should respond with anything at least vaguely antagonistic.

Steve smiles shyly. “Creamed your pants for a second there?”

Billy rolls his eyes. “You’re insufferable. Bring it on!”

Robin all but drags him to a big gathering with the party. “Hey! You guys remember Billy Rathbone?!”

Robin’s even more obvious than Steve, emphasizing his last name so overtly Billy’s almost worried for a second of how everyone’s going to react. Eddie and Steve almost chide her.

No need for that. The kids look at him in wonder. El gives him the biggest grin ever. Lucas raises his eyebrows amusedly. Dustin gives him the toothiest toothless smile. Erica only looks smug for once in her life. Will has the softest smile on his face. Mike can’t keep his self imposed grimace of someone who’s sucking on a lemon for long enough because it’s clear he’s trying not to smile.

And Max?

From her sitting position on her wheelchair, she extends her fully healed right arm. “Let me see it.”

“Let her see it! Yeah!” Robin is so enthusiastic about Billy showing Max his new ID that she’s almost jumping in place.

Max takes a good look at the shiny new plastic. Then slowly looks up at him.

Billy doesn’t know what to make of her expression and the sepulchral silence that follows before she speaks.

“Of course you had to go and call yourself Rat Bone.”

Everyone laughs. Billy does, too. He doesn’t know why he was worried.

Wait. He’s tearing up a little bit as well.

Max downright forces him to hug her.

“Don’t you dare say anything, shitbird. What kinda name is May Field? Sounds like… uh…”

“Yeah, yeah. Give yourself an aneurysm thinking of something, will you.” They separate. “Just tell me everything after it.”

And he does. He tells them about Gammy.

“Hey,” you say to Billy, him so comfortable deep in the bedsheets after you’re done laying all your love on him. “If… no, when we’re able to marry,” and he of course has to blush to the tips of his ears, even after you’ve literally just finished making love, “…you’re not gonna take my last name, right?”

Billy tears up. “Please, d-don’t make me—”

“Of course I won’t. That was a threat.” You smile at him while you make him this oh-so-scary threat. He smiles as well. “You better not. ‘Billy Rathbone’ just sounds too good to change.”

There’s always hope.

Billy Rathbone wears a different necklace nowadays. Whereas he used to have a Virgin Mary one, which belonged to his egg donor, he now has one in the format of a locket. There is a photograph inside, the only one Murray could find. But it’s perfect.

Of course, he did not crop the original photograph. He put it through the photocopier once, twice, three times before it was the perfect size.

In this locket, he keeps a photocopied picture of Maude Rathbone, smiling with her gorgeous missing and blackened crooked teeth, sporting a lovely frizzy hairdo that’s just the perfect hue of vintage red, looking at the camera with one ethereal cataractous eye.

[the-hinky-panda]

Something Witchy: McLeary Farm

Title: Something Witchy

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You're a physical medium and chaos magician that is called in from time to time to help consult on some X-Files. You've lived your life seeing into another world and believing in things you can't see. What happens when you fall for the die hard skeptic Special Agent John Doggett?

They say that opposites attract. That there needs to be balance between two people in order for a relationship to work properly. Yin and yang. Light and dark. 

Special Agent John Doggett believes this is complete bullshit. 

He believes in similarities, common ground, shared beliefs. A foundation that a solid relationship can be built upon. Which is why whenever he reads an X-File with your name, he has an incessant desire to know what you look like. He had heard you were a friend of Mulder’s from years ago. The first case where your name appears was concerning  a poltergeist driving a father insane to the point of killing his entire family. Your name, a hard one to forget due to its uniqueness, had been recorded as performing a double exorcism to cleanse the house and land: a Catholic exorcism for the house and a Native American cleansing of the land. Even though your name pops up here and there throughout some of the files, there haven’t been any cases that have come across his desk that require his reaching out for your expertise. 

That is until one rainy Wednesday morning when  he walks into the basement office to find Monica digging through the filing cabinet. 

He shakes the rain off his umbrella and leaves it by the door. “We get a case?” 

“Yeah.” Monica answers distractedly. “It’s a small farm in Maryland. The family has horses, sheep, goats, and chickens. They’ve been finding some of their animals dead, drained of blood. Their son was recently attacked and is currently fighting for his life in the ICU. Same type of injuries as the animals.” 

“So what are you looking for?” 

“The name of that chaos magician that helped Agent Mulder a couple times.” 

He says it without any hesitation. The name falls effortlessly from his lips and it’s enough to get an eyebrow raise from Monica. He drops his keys on the desk and changes the direction of the conversation . “So what the hell is a chaos magician?” 

“It’s someone who’s well versed in a variety of religious practices and beliefs. When someone encounters a paranormal issue, a chaos magician can assess the issue and provide the appropriate solution based on the nature of the cause.” 

“How can they help with dead animals and a kid in ICU?” 

“If it’s something other than a human, they may be able to tell us what it is and how to appease it.” Monica is quiet for a moment. “Have you met her before?” 

John shakes his head. “No. Why?” 

“You just came up with her name fairly quickly.” 

“It’s a unique name.” 

Monica has abandoned the filing cabinet and instead is flipping through the Rolodex on her desk. “I’ll give her a call and see if she can meet us at the farm.” 

John sits down at his desk and flips the case file open. He tries to concentrate on the photos of the animals, the up close view of the wounds, but all he can manage is straining to hear your voice as you make arrangements with Monica. It sounds like he’s finally going to put a face to the name this afternoon and he’s hoping this will sate his odd curiosity about you. 

***

You park your vintage Volkswagen GTI Golf next to the government issued sedan at the McLeary farm. It’s not the first crime scene you’ve been asked to observe. DC, Virginia, Maryland police departments, as well as the FBI, have requested your services for the last six years since you’ve opened your small occult shop in the DC area. As a physical medium and chaos magician, you’re more than happy to be considered helpful in situations like this one. As you approach the barn that’s been marked off in yellow caution tape, you hear your name being called by a dark haired woman. 

“Agent Reyes?” 

“Yes,” she shakes your hand. “First, I just want to say how amazing it is to meet you in person. I read your book on banshees and their contributions to the grieving process in families and thought it was extremely insightful.” 

“Thank you.” You had written the book while you were in college. It had been a research paper turned into a short book with just a little bit more research. You were surprised at how many people had actually read it. The small paranormal publisher was trying to get you to write another book but nothing had captured your attention quite like the banshee had. You suppose it had something to do with your mother’s death at the time you were writing it. “So, what exactly are we looking at here?” 

She lifts the yellow tape for you duck underneath. “I’m not sure. My first thought was it could be a chupacabra.” 

You shake your head. “It’s late winter though. It’s too cold for a chupacabra to be this far north. It was summer time, maybe.” 

“My next thought was a Satanic cult, a sacrifice of sorts. But if they start sacrificing animals, they don’t typically escalate to humans.” 

“No, if they were going to do human sacrifices, they would have started with humans.” You stop at one of the stalls in the barn, wrap your hands around the cold, steel bars. Closing your eyes, you take in a deep breath and try to concentrate on the surroundings. The scent of hay fills your nose, the biting cold of winter sting your cheeks, but your mind opens and starts to access the information that only you can access. 

There’s the spirit of a caretaker in the barn. He calms the horses, stands guard at night. You try to strike up a conversation with him but he’s reluctant. He’s afraid of whatever it is that is harming the animals. He stays in the hayloft when it comes stalking down the aisle in the early morning hours. It’s footfalls are heavy, the drag of heavy limbs  through the packed dirt floor of the barn. It’s looking to be appeased, to get it’s due. 

“It’s an Elemental.” 

“What the hell is an Elemental?” 

Your eyes fly open at the sound of a new voice, a male baritone and you find yourself staring into the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. Words completely escape you as the ground shifts underneath your feet. Thankfully, Agent Reyes jumps into the situation, buying you time to reorient yourself. 

“This is Special Agent John Doggett, my partner.” 

Somehow you find your voice and introduce yourself and move straight into explaining Elementals. “An Elemental is a spirit that was never human. It’s a guardian of nature and the earth. Many Native American tribes worshiped them and provided sacrifices to show them respect and ask for their blessings on the land and their crops. This particular Elemental hasn’t had an offering in many many years so it is taking what it believes it’s due by killing the animals.” 

“Uh huh,” Doggett responds. “So this spirit of nature is killing things because no one is giving it offerings?” 

You swallow down your unease and nod. “Yes, pretty much.” 

“So why would it attack the son?” Reyes asks. 

“Most likely because he challenged it, disrespected it.” You shrug. “Sometimes disbelief can come back to bite you in the ass. And when you’re dealing with something that is eons old, it’s not very forgiving.” 

Agent Reyes crosses her arms. “So what do you suggest?” 

“I would suggest the family start by making weekly offerings. Fruit, breads, and mead. Leave it in the middle of the barn aisle when they close everything up at night. Once it’s been properly appeased, they can leave an offering once a month.” 

“And their son?” Doggett interjects. “The one that’s lying in an ICU bed on a ventilator?” 

You shift uncomfortably on your feet at the intensity of his skepticism. “I would leave the offering tonight. Make apologies and ask the Elemental for mercy and healing.” 

He walks away from you with a slight, although disbelieving, nod of his head and you feel tears spring to your eyes. You’ve faced multitudes of skeptics in your lifetime but for some reason, this man’s disbelief is something you take personally. Agent Reyes must notice your reaction because she places a kind hand on your arm. 

“I’ll speak to the family about the offering and making the apology to the Elemental.” 

You nod your thanks and return to your car, your job done for the moment. Two days later, the door to your store opens and you go out to greet the customer. You’re surprised, to put it mildly, that it’s Agent Doggett who is standing by the register. Once again, you feel the ground list under your feet but you manage to right yourself more quickly this time. 

“Agent Doggett, to what do I owe this visit?” 

He glances around the small but densely packed space of candles, tarot cards, incense, and books. “I just wanted to stop by and give you an update on the McLeary’s son.” 

“Okay.” 

“The McLeary’s did the offering like you suggested. In fact, they’ve done it twice now. This morning, their son came out of his coma and was able to be taken off life support. It’s a damn miracle.” 

You smile, relieved that your read on the situation had been correct. “Miracles can’t be explained, Agent Doggett. This can be. I’m just happy that my suggestion was the correct path to take.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

You wait for him to say something else but he doesn’t. He merely nods his head and turns toward the door. A variety of phrases pop up in your mind to prevent him from leaving but they all log jam in your throat and nothing comes out. So you watch him leave, the tiny jingle of the bell over the door the only sound that fills your ears. You want him to come back, you want to talk to him more, learn more about him. What made him so skeptical? What happened that drove all the faith out of him? Is there anything that you can do to bring it back? In that moment of asking all those questions, of wondering why you even care that much about a federal agent with glacier blue eyes, you realize why you care so much about his ability to believe in things he can not see. 

You’re in love with him.

[countrymusiclover]

10 - The Original Coffins

Part 11

Gemini Runaway

@dragonixfrye

Typing away at the phone number my cousin Jo had given me in case I ever wanted to talk with her and not use magic I pressed the phone to my ear. “Jo, it’s me. I understand if you are busy or something. But I have a magic question and you’re the only witch I can trust. Call me back when you can.” Hanging up the phone I heard footsteps coming up the stairs meaning it must have been Klaus.

He has been bickering with Stefan Salvatore after he had stolen the coffins that apparently held his remaining family members. But nothing had really happened in getting their safe return. Walking out of my room I followed him into the hallway seeing that his hands were clutching into fists at his sides. “I’m in no mode for company, Raelyn.”

“What happened this time? Maybe I can help you instead of threatening anyone in this town who actually knows where they are.” I offered thinking that the reason he couldn’t find them was because they were using another witch.

He ran a hand through his hair slumping his shoulders thinking for a moment. “It could be possible, Raelyn. What exactly do you have in mind to help me?”

“Simple locator spell. I used your blood since you are holding your other siblings. Since they share the same blood of your mother with you I’ll be able to find them.” I responded walking past him drawing a small dagger that I had used to cut my palm to do spells and one of the maps, gesturing for his palm once I placed the map on the bedside table in my bedroom. “Give me your hand please.”

He extended his hand where I held it over the map wrapping my fingers around his siphoning some magic from him. He winced slightly watching me turn his palm open, slicing the knife across allowing the blood to drip onto the map. “Why are you helping me exactly. Normally I have to force people to help me but you, you’re willing why?”

“Like I said once before, if anyone came after my brother I would probably do the same thing you are doing now shhh I have to concentrate…” I replied telling him to be quiet, needing to focus on the spell. “Ahsorum dolusantum infidictus.”

The blood moved across the map where I breathed out needing to remember the illusion spell so we could see where the blood stopped. According to the map the blood had stopped in a place that was referred to as the Bennett cemetery. “The bloody witch line!”

Klaus grumbled, making me send him a look mumbling another spell. “Hey, remember who is helping you here, Nikky. Phantamogriphiia decorum…Voye a sa fille.”

The bedroom around us disappears so when I opened my eyes once more scanning my gaze around the room hearing someone coming into the abandoned house that has a bunch of candles and witchy markings on the walls. Klaus steps beside me taking my hand is his. “What took you so long?” Damon appeared from behind the corner.

“You’re little witch is more powerful than I first thought.” The raven haired vampire responded walking over to us.

Klaus rolled his eyes at him. “Hiding behind your witchy friends. And in squalor, no less.” He suddenly grabbed his head screaming in pain meaning that the dead witches were using their magic on him.

“Klaus - ohhhh!” I called his name before I suddenly felt some pain shoot through my head making me drop on my knees.

“Freaky witch.” One dead witch spoke.

Another spat in my ear made me groan, bending my head on the ground. “A witch without magic is against nature.”

“Insulting a bunch of dead witches... Not smart. I made the exact same mistake first time I came in here.” Damon teased the hybrid.

Klaus stumbled to his feet glancing my direction hearing me moaning. “Well, you know the funny thing about the witches is that living or dead, they care about their own. A hundred dead witches have a thousand living descendents…” He grabbed his head again when the flames around us grew.

“Urgh stop it…Klaus!” Cried covering my ears with my hands begging him to shut up.

He rose to his feet grunting through his teeth causing the witches' voices to finally die down. “And I have no problem killing every last one of them if I don't get my coffins back. As we speak, my hybrid friend is prepared to end the Bennett line.”

“The Gemini Coven is coming for you little witch!” I heard another witch declare making me start crying in fear, finally feeling the pain completely disappear. Lifting my head upwards I gasped dropping my hands.

Klaus dropped down on his knees brushing blonde hair from my eyes, cradling my cheek in his palm. “Rea, Rae, sweetheart I’m sorry. I didn’t think they could hurt you here…Now. Please... Show me the coffins." He lifted his gaze up to the ceiling quietly asking the dead witches who made the coffins appear.

I attempted to stand on my own two feet but I swayed feeling dizzy. Luckily Klaus caught my body falling into his chest. My fingers gripped the gray material of his Henley shirt. “I know you didn’t mean it, Woah…urgh sorry.”

“What did I say about you apologizing to me, Rae. Can you walk with me, love?” He asked wrapping one arm around my waist where I felt something coming from my nose but I didn’t think it was anything. “Here we are. Where's the fourth? Show me!”

Damon shrugged his shoulders at us. “Well, ehh, here's the thing. They can't. It's not here.”

Klaus asked in a growl. ”What did you do?”

He explained. “Well, Bonnie gave me the head's up. I mean, I didn't have enough time to get all four, but I did have time to get one.”

“I will tear you limb from limb. And only then, when you are a writhing mass of blood and flesh, will I rip your heart from your chest. “ Klaus moved forward threatening the vampire, leaving me to lean my weak body against one of the coffins.

“Sorry the deal is off if you kill me.” He warns him simply.

Holding myself up on my right elbow I grunted, shifting my gaze in their direction. “Boys, can we do this the civil way possibly. I mean yes Damon if you did something like this to my brother I would do what he is doing right now probably too. But at this point it seems we can do this another way.”

“What do you mean like a deal over dinner, little witch.” Damon scoffed in my direction knitting his brows at me in confusion. “Is your nose bleeding?”

Raising my freehand up underneath my nose I drew it back seeing red on my finger tips. “Crap…I’ve never done this spell this long before.”

“We’re heading home now. See to it that your brother shows up at my house later. We can discuss a deal otherwise I will hunt for all eternity.” Klaus vamped over to me wrapping his arms around my waist whispering in my ear. “Take us back, Raelyn. You’re done.”

Nodding my head I shut my eyes and the next time I opened them we were back in the bedroom but I still felt woozy and tired. Laying on my back on the bed he came over to my side sitting down. “The Bennett witches know about my Coevn, Nik.”

“I’m sorry you got hurt because of me…once again.” He muttered gazing down at me longingly. My blonde hair was sprawled out on the pillows and he could hear my heartbeat in a calmer state then moments ago.

Blinking my eyes I sat upright a little while my hands remained resting on my stomach, not sure I heard him correctly. “Did you just apologize to me?” He avoided my gaze giving me my answer making me smile seeing that he was slightly embarrassed. “Oh my gosh you did. And here everyone thinks you are the big bad hybrid.”

“Don’t go telling people that Raelyn or I’ll compel you to do something you’ll regret.” He teased me lightly with a smile.

Waving my index finger in his face I fully sat up so we were so close our noses could touch if he moved an inch closer to me. “You can’t compel a witch, remember silly.”

“No but I can do this.” He vamped slightly forward pushing me onto my back throwing my hair in front of my face.

I giggled moving it out of my view seeing that he was hovering above me now and we were still close like we were before. Raising my hands over my head I laid them on the pillow frozen looking at him like this. “Klaus!….”

“Don’t test the wolf in me, Ms, Lame. You won’t be able to beat me.” His blue eyes were brighter than I had ever seen up until this moment. He had a kind smile on his lips that made it almost impossible to not grin as big as he was.

I smirked a small grin testing this playful side in him that I had yet to see come to the surface so I was going to enjoy it for as long as possible. When he was happy it made all my fears disappear and made me forget that I was on the run from my entire family of witches. “And what would you do to me hmm?”

“Now you're insisting on a challenge, love.” He leaned his head down to mine where my heart quickened thinking he was going to kiss me until I felt his hand move to my sides beginning to tickle me on my hip and I couldn’t run away since he had me pinned between the bed and him.

I pushed my hands against his chest trying to squirm out of his grasp but I wasn’t trying as hard when I heard a beautiful laugh come from his lips. “Klaus…no…stop. I can’t handle….being tickled. Nik….Niklaus!”

“Do you cave yet?” He asked, making our eyes finally lock onto one another.

Pushing my hands against his chest I gently shoved him off scooting upright onto the pillows behind me. “Yes I cave. I’m going to get my revenge one day.”

“Oh I’ll be pleased to see you try, Rae.” He flopped down on his side of the bed placing his hands behind his head smiling until he heard a noise from my stomach. “Have you eaten at all today?”

Shaking my head no I pulled my knees underneath my butt shifting my body so that I was facing him. “Don’t take this as a weird question but could I see you in your werewolf form sometime. I've never seen a werewolf up close before.”

“You’re avoiding eating to ask me that question, Raelyn. I care about your well being.” He sat up straight scolding me.

Throwing my hands up from my lap a little I huffed not seeing the problem. “So no, I haven't eaten today. Can you answer my question please since I helped you possibly get your coffins back?”

“This is what is going to happen, love. We are going to get you something to eat and then we will talk about your offer.” He rose to his feet offering me his hands pulling me to stand. “So what do you want for dinner?”

“Are you saying you can cook too?” I question him.

“I can but I prefer to use vampire compulsion instead.” He responded back to me. “Now are you going to be picky about this because I have told you before that I don’t mind doing whatever I can to make you happy.”

Tapping my fingers on my arms when I crossed them over my chest I told the hybrid in front of me. “Boneless Buffalo wings would be good.”

“Done.” He turned on his heels about to leave but he spun around striding up to me leaning down where I blushed quickly thinking he might try to kiss me like we almost did on our first date. Yet he kisses my forehead instead before leaving the room. “Thank you for helping today. I don’t have many allies.”

“Neither do I.” I called out, making him halt in his tracks.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, sending me another smile in my direction. “From this day on we can look out for one another, Raelyn. I’ll see you later at dinner with the Salvatore’s.” When he had left the room completely I glanced around the room hearing my phone go off on the desk so I picked it up.

Flipping through the device there was a text message from the phone number Jo had given me but it didn’t make sense since she was enjoying her life away from all her Coven drama. I didn’t expect her to come find me. “I’m coming to Mystic Falls - EL…..that doesn’t seem right.” Locking my phone screen I tossed my phone down knowing I needed to find another outfit that didn’t have light blood on it from doing magic.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[ruvviks]

Chapter >> 19 [x] Characters >> ??? Total >> 7.7k words Warnings >> Alcohol mention, death mention, family / parents, injury mention, smoking

‘More information has been released on the explosions in Charter Hill from a few days ago. The office building in question was supposedly in use as a hideout by the infamous fixer known as “the Broker” on the streets. The explosion itself did minimal damage, but most of the building has been consumed by the fire that broke out on the lower levels.

The NCPD has yet to confirm the number of casualties though emphasizes that no innocent civilians have been caught in the crossfire. The Broker has presumably died on the premises. Their mercenaries have scattered across town and thus far, no further incidents have been reported.

It appears that peace has finally returned to the streets of Night City. And with that, the weather.’

It was the end of August.

The streets were dark. A pitch black sky hung over Night City, heavy rainfall threatening to pour down and a hint of static in the air though not quite enough yet for a full storm to break loose. Nearing the evening hours- the sweet spot right before rush hour where the whole city seemed to be holding its breath, roads left eerily abandoned as restaurants and bars began opening their doors and people packed up their things to leave work and go home.

The run-down apartment building cast a dark shadow on the streets of the Glen, curtains of windows behind bars and grids closed and apartments left unilluminated and cold. The graffiti-covered entrance hall was abandoned- the sound of heels clacking softly on the faded and cracked tiles leading up to the concrete staircase, a single bright fluorescent ceiling light flickering and swaying from a strong breeze blowing in from the hall.

It was one of the older buildings in town. Its initial purpose had been to become a beautiful and bright home to working class families- affordable housing close to work, with stable electricity and HVAC and everything else needed to be able to live comfortably and safely raise a kid or two.

An idea, a dream; exactly how many projects in Night City often started, a vision easy enough to make reality yet halted halfway through because of financial reasons, corporate interference, gang territory expansion, a cyberpsycho incident, economic or political interests or a cocktail of several- or all- of those reasons.

Which is how the building had instead ended up as a derelict ruin with barely working electricity and apartments in the possession of shady owners- some going for triple the rent it was worth and others cheap but in such poor condition one might as well be sleeping on the streets.

Home, sweet home.

The seventh floor stood entirely abandoned, its apartments burnt down after a fire a few years back. All except one; in the far back, safely tucked away from the main street and overlooking the outskirts of Vista Del Rey, though the windows had not been cleaned in who knows how long leaving not much outside to see.

It was small, cozy. A single room apartment with a tiny bathroom in the corner, the door only half in its hinges and never repaired. It held barely any furniture, an old couch with coffee table that missed a leg marking the living room with a mattress on the floor behind it as bed, and a small kitchen on the left next to the front door made out of mismatched cabinets and an old oven and stove that looked like it was as old as time itself.

Despite the clear absence of a resident, the place was not as dirty as it could have been. Recently dusted and the kitchen counter was clean, fridge in working order running on an external generator and stocked with basic foods and some liquors. A safehouse, presumably; or at least a temporary refuge for someone who needed desperately to hide, or simply needed the solitude from time to time.

Cold, grayish blue eyes slowly trailed the dark room, the silence inside nearly deafening. Who had known Night City could be so quiet? Everything else was so far away, an aura of loneliness weighing down on the stuffy interior air making it harder to breathe. Searching hand found a light switch- flicked it on, and a string of colored lights along the top of the window on the other side of the room turned on, bathing the apartment in a soft, reddish pink glow.

Home, sweet home.

It did not feel like it.

He slowly took off his coat, holding it under his arm as he carefully walked further into the room. Ran his free hand through his short, slicked back hair- it was a little damp, still, caused by the humidity outside as well as inside, and he exhaled a little sharper than he had meant for as he quickly dried his hand on his pants.

The place made him uncomfortable, despite the warm and inviting atmosphere the colored lights created. It was too heavy with history- too much hardship had happened between those four decrepit walls and too much of it lingered still and it left him with so many questions; questions he clearly already knew the answers for, but questions that would not leave him alone either way.

Matvey had lived in an apartment like that himself, too.

Many, many years ago; when he had been in his early twenties, only recently escaped his parents’ home, struggling to find balance in the multitude of aspects of his life and struggling to get by.

His eyes trailed the walls, over pictures that had been left there, faded by the decade that had passed but showing people, friends, at parties and roaming the Night City streets after dark, smiling brightly at the camera with closed eyes and scrunched up noses.

And his gaze lingered on one boy in particular, present in nearly all of them- bleached blond hair that reached his waist, some freckles covering his forehead and cheekbones, pale grayish blue eyes above a wide smile, and a small gap between his front teeth.

Oh, Vitali.

Matvey carefully took one of the pictures from the wall, only barely able to contain his irregular breathing and heartbeat as he slowly scanned the faces of both his son and someone unfamiliar next to him; a boy with light brown hair and golden eyes, face full of piercings and a tattoo peeking out of his shirt on his neck.

They were kissing in the picture. Matvey had never even gotten the chance to meet him.

The howling of the wind outside made him shiver while he quickly put the picture back, hairs on his arms standing up straight as the cool breeze blew through cracks and holes in the outer wall of the apartment.

It did not feel right to stand there. It did not feel right to exist in the space Vitali had once existed in, struggling to get by, struggling to survive in a city that was so desperately trying to swallow him whole. And if Matvey could go back in time to change it- any of it-

But it was far too late for that now.

‘Vitali?’

Matvey stood motionless as he watched his son enter the house- flashlight of his phone illuminating the dark hallway- coming home from one of his classmates’ infamous parties while Matvey himself was already getting ready to go to work.

‘Party lasted a little longer than I had thought,’ Vitali instantly blurted out, and Matvey glanced at his watch; nearly five in the morning, and Vitali would have school in only a few hours- but most importantly, Nadya had not even given him permission to go in the first place.

Matvey lowered himself on the couch and exhaled sharply, the memories washing over him like a tidal wave slamming itself into the coastline. Memories of an easier time; but now he was not so sure anymore, wondering if it had truly been as simple as he had always thought, wondering if perhaps his own judgment was clouded, unreliable.

Matvey slowly walked closer to Vitali, trying to think of anything to say; scold him, perhaps, punish him for his recklessness and misbehavior-

But something stopped him from doing so.

Something on Vitali’s face- the way his eyes widened the second his father began moving closer, the way he clearly tried to find the right words to say- the way he swayed on his legs and could barely keep his phone in his hand and the way his eyes almost glossed over when Matvey got close enough-

He simply reached out and plucked a half smoked cigarette out of his son’s hair.

Nadya had not needed to know.

The lights along the wall and ceiling lightly flickered as another strong wind caused the glass of the window to rattle in its frame. A late afternoon dust storm blowing in from the Badlands, leaving the city streets in a thin layer of sand once it would settle down again; the one time anyone would be glad to have a roof above their head, no matter how run-down.

Matvey clasped his hands together, frown decorating the upper half of his face, the howling of the wind the only thing breaking through the silence surrounding him alongside the ringing in his ears the explosions from a few days earlier had left him with-

His eyes fluttered shut and a shaky exhale left his chest.

Oh, Vitali.

It had not been worth it.

Months of planning, months of fighting- months of losing sight of what was right and what was wrong and everything in between and most of all losing sight of what it had all been for in the first place. Revenge? Trying to prove a point? Trying to be good enough for a woman who had lost interest somewhere down the line, to the point she had started to become more of a stranger to him than his own wife?

And where had it led him?

Where had it all led any of them?

‘Perimeter is clear. You should be safe here.’

The familiar voice was comforting, in a way.

It sounded different now; the years had not been kind to him, but still Vitali had grown up to become a fine looking young man radiating more confidence than he had ever done at any point in his childhood, and Matvey would be lying if he said he was not proud of his son for getting to the point in his life he was at now.

He opened his eyes again and watched as Vitali entered the apartment, cane lightly clacking on the old wooden floorboards with every step he took. His eyes trailed the room- though too fast for anyone to be able to fully take in any of the smaller details, and the white-knuckled balled fist along his body told Matvey he would rather be anywhere else.

‘Thank you, for this,’ Matvey quietly said in Russian, but Vitali cut him off with a single shake of his head. He couldn’t even look him in the eyes- gaze fixed on the photos on the wall as he took a step back, wincing lightly and putting his hand over the patched up wound in his side.

‘I don’t want your gratitude,’ he coldly replied. ‘Words mean nothing. Not anymore.’

Matvey understood.

Nothing he could say would set things right. Nothing he could say would change what had happened, would make it all go away- and as far as Vitali was concerned this could easily be part of his plan, still, trying to get closer to him in a vastly different way; try to gain his trust and strike when everyone would least expect it to come out victorious at the end of it all either way.

It would have been a genius plan, Matvey had to admit- well within his capabilities too, he could have pulled it off.

But that was not who he was.

Not anymore.

‘You have- a long way to go,’ Vitali quietly continued, taking out his cigarette case, flicking one out and carefully lighting it, the flame of his lighter softly illuminating the space around him.

‘Make things right. Somehow. Prove to me that you are better without Nadya. And I can’t help you with any of that, so- good luck figuring it out for yourself. I have nothing to win or lose in any of this anymore, so do whatever you feel like doing.’

A nonchalance to his voice, but the words he spoke were heavy. As if all of it was a burden to him- and Matvey knew exactly why, having had enough interactions with Vitali’s friends thus far to know that they did not fully support his son’s decision.

His actions would speak louder than words.

Of course Vitali did not know that Matvey had come with him to that tiny ripperdoc shop- Viktor, I believe his name is- and had stayed with him all that time, refusing to sleep, agreeing to let himself be handcuffed as humiliating as it was just to ease others’ minds.

Of course he didn’t know that Matvey had helped that fixer, Rogue, put together a fake profile for the Broker to get that poor excuse of a Council’s attention away from the both of them entirely and to make sure the NCPD had a name to settle on to put the case to rest in their archives, never to be seen ever again.

And of course he didn’t know that Matvey had willingly allowed some netrunner he could not remember the name of wipe his own entire existence from Arasaka’s database, to make sure they would never find out the truth but at the same time rendering him incapable of ever returning to the corporation, even if he for whichever reason so desperately wanted to.

But what difference would it make if he knew?

‘I won’t let you down,’ Matvey finally answered, lowering his gaze to the ground. Not out of shame, or dishonesty- but if anything out of fear, fear of what he would see on his son’s face, fear of his words being taken with a grain of salt despite how heavy they weighed on his tongue, despite how sincerely he meant them, and he clenched his fists on his lap as a sharp exhale left his body.

A long way to go.

But at least Matvey knew where to start.

‘Hey, Vito.’

The interior of Misty’s shop was comfortably warm, gently illuminated by a few lit candles scattered around. A welcoming sight as always- the interior colorfully decorated but not too clashing or too bright on the eyes, and Vitali would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel at home.

She hadn’t closed yet; though no one else was inside at that time of day, most of Little China’s residents seeking shelter from the dust storm passing over elsewhere in either the Megabuilding or one of its many diners or restaurants. Misty herself was stood behind the counter, leaning on top with her elbows and softly humming a song.

Vitali wiped his feet on the doormat and quickly took off his mask and glasses, stuffing them in the pocket of his long coat before giving Misty a wave and a smile as he walked closer. She smiled back at him in return; and reached out to ruffle his hair the second he got within her reach, sand and dust falling out of it like snowflakes and sticking to his clothes on the way down.

‘Is Vitya still here?’ he asked, setting his cane down beside him and leaning on the counter as well, eyes fixed on the deck of tarot cards in Misty’s hands she was shuffling.

‘Of course,’ was the response, as usual. ‘City never sleeps.’

‘Neither does he, it seems.’

‘And neither do you.’

Vitali scoffed, a smile lingering on his face as he lowered his gaze to the floor beneath his feet. He couldn’t even argue with her; had not slept at all last night despite recovering from a shot that could have killed him- that should have killed him- only a few days ago.

‘Got time for a reading?’ Misty asked, reaching out to place her hand on Vitali’s before he could pull back to make his way outside, to get to Viktor’s shop. ‘Startin’ to become kind of a tradition at this point, I think.’

‘Hm- with V, maybe.’

Vitali paused, reaching out to the tarot deck in his friend’s hands- she fanned them out near automatically for him, a slightly questioning look in her eyes- and he picked one out, turning it between his fingers and clicking his tongue upon seeing the result.

‘Your cards do not like me very much,’ he finished his sentence with a wink and a smile, and he grabbed his cane again while dropping the tarot card labeled “death” face up on the counter as he made his way around it through the back door of the esoterica.

He had walked down those stairs many, many times before; knew the route to Viktor’s ripperdoc clinic as intimately as the route between his office and his home. Perhaps even more so- visits albeit sparingly going back years in time to long before his time as a fixer, long before he had moved into the penthouse he lived in now.

The familiar smell of sharp disinfectant entered his nose halfway down the steps. The familiar struggle to open the gate to get inside- the familiar sight of Viktor mid drying his hands on a hand towel on the other side of the room, giving him a warm smile as he slowly walked over.

‘Was wondering when you’d show your face again. How’re you feeling?’

‘Tired,’ Vitali bluntly answered, closing the gate behind him. ‘My whole body wants to lay down in bed and never get out, my skull feels cracked and I have not had an appetite since I woke up, but- what can you do.’

Viktor reached out- a gesture that nearly caused Vitali to flinch, a rush of adrenaline locking up the muscles in his neck- and gently cupped his cheek, slightly tilting his head around as he checked his eyes; then placed his hand on Vitali’s forehead, a soft hum that could have both been of approval as well as disapproval leaving his throat.

‘It’ll settle soon enough,’ he finally spoke. ‘You were-’ A pause. ‘You were close to-’

‘I know, Vik,’ Vitali quickly interrupted the old ripperdoc. ‘I know.’

Vitali could not remember much of any of it anymore.

He remembered feeling the cool night air on his skin, the very same slight breeze that had later caused the fire inside the building to spread rapidly from floor to floor. He remembered being lifted into a car- being held by several people at once, staring up through the half opened car window to the dark sky and heavy clouds and the blinding city lights flashing by.

They had brought him there. To Viktor’s shop. He had no longer been conscious by then, and it had taken him a while to wake up after being stabilized; and even then he could still not remember when and how exactly he had gotten home, and the previous day was by that hour also mostly a blur to him.

Vitali’s gaze met Viktor’s again and he instantly took notice of the expectant look in his eyes; no words leaving his lips, but the question was crystal clear to him either way. And in hindsight, Vitali was not entirely sure anymore why he had gone to Vik’s in the first place, when there was really not much else to say.

‘I brought him to the safehouse today,’ Vitali sheepishly said, fumbling with the handle of his cane and lowering his gaze to the floor. ‘He will be staying there for- well, I don’t know. Until he has figured out what to do next, I suppose.’

‘Good.’ Short response. Vitali nearly wished he had just gone home instead. ‘Did it ease your mind?’

He absently nodded, Viktor’s words taking a moment to settle in his brain and as they did the light bobbing faltered and faded into a sigh, shoulders slumping forward as he reached out to grab a chair from beside him and he slowly sat down.

‘I thought it would, but… I don’t know anymore,’ he answered honestly, barely able to look Viktor in the eye as the man sat down on his own stool nearby and wheeled closer. A comforting move- and Vitali’s heartbeat settled down a little as it happened, glad he did not have to cut the conversation short.

‘Did I-?’ he started, frowning as he reconsidered his words and momentarily searched for something else to say. ‘Shouldn’t I have-’

‘Hey- no. Don’t start doubtin’ yourself now, kid.’

The soothing tone of Viktor’s voice seemed everlasting with his patience, and Vitali closed his eyes and dropped his head as the ripperdoc put a reassuring hand on his wrist.

‘Not after everything you’ve been through,’ he added to the statement, and fuck, how Vitali wished he hadn’t- if he had just made a couple of different decisions somewhere along the way then he wouldn’t have had to-

‘But what if I was wrong?’ Vitali blurted out, the words lingering inside his head for much longer than necessary and rendering him unable to keep his mouth shut, like many times before. ‘What if-’

‘You’ve made plenty of mistakes in your life, V,’ Viktor immediately interrupted him. ‘Just like all of us. Just like me.’

Well, that was unexpected.

Vitali frowned and looked back up, Viktor slightly averting his gaze to a point right behind Vitali to not have to look him in the eyes.

‘One of my biggest mistakes?’ he continued, a sudden instability to his voice that had not been there before and he gave Vitali’s wrist a soft squeeze. ‘Not listenin’ to you. Trying to tell you to not join Arasaka after you’d already let me know there was no changing your mind. Pushing you away like that.’

Vitali could not help but wonder how long the other man had been sitting on that one.

Wind blew in from up the stairs, rattling the gate behind them and causing the orange cat curled up in a little makeshift bed next to it to jump up, hiss, and skitter across the floor to sit between Vitali’s legs instead. He absently reached down to give him a few scratches on the head- Jack, he believed Viktor had named him- and used the moment to let the words settle in his head again.

Fuck, he was tired.

‘You were right,’ he finally replied, vividly remembering how desperately Viktor had tried to convince him to not sell his soul to the corporation so many years ago.

‘Doesn’t matter if I was right or wrong,’ Viktor cut him off again with a single shake of his head. ‘I wasn’t there for you the way you needed me.’

‘You’re not my dad, Vik.’

‘But he wasn’t there either, was he now?’

Silence washed over the room and a pang of anger tightened Vitali’s chest; though he managed to shrug it off with ease, knowing the frustration was unnecessary since Viktor was merely stating facts. He lowered his gaze again, staring at Jack who was slapping his ankles and attempting to bite through one of his shoes- and for some reason it caused a small smile to take shape on his face, despite the rest of the circumstances he’d found himself in.

‘Look, kid,’ Viktor quietly said, ‘I can’t tell you whether you made the right call or not. Truth is, I don’t know. I don’t know what I would’ve done. But I trust your judgment. And I’m not gonna let history repeat itself.’

‘What if I am wrong?’

‘Then we’ll find out soon enough. What else are you gonna do about it now?’

He was right.

Of course he was- what else was there for Vitali to do? He could lock Matvey up, and then what? Accidentally turn him into a second Ravager because of it? He was not leaving the man to his own devices. Was not trapping him but would keep an eye on him either way, make sure the things that had happened would never ever happen again-

‘Every decision you’ve made along the way has led us here. You did the best you could.’ Viktor stood up again, giving Vitali a gentle pat on his shoulder before turning around to tend to the mess on his desk, grabbing a stack of papers and shoving it into one of the drawers.

‘You’re just one man, Vito,’ he continued, ‘and you know what? Him too. What’s wrong with this city is that too many folks have this- this “kill who you can kill” mindset. Let’s be honest here, what real difference would it have made to take this one man’s life?’

‘Others have died along the way,’ Vitali bluntly fired back, reaching down and barely reacting when Jack instantly attacked his fingers, pupils dilating upon spotting Vitali’s rings and trying to pull one off his hand. ‘It would’ve been better to save them.’

‘And you tried, didn’t you? Had you killed him, would things have been different? Who else would have lived? Who else would have died?’

It was impossible to say.

Too many external factors at play- Ravager and Dupoint as rogue variables, as well as each and every single one of his father’s mercs. Nadya’s influence had changed so much; what would she have done if Vitali had successfully killed Matvey at any point in time? Would she still have wanted to remain on the sidelines?

‘Sometimes, living is a punishment,’ Viktor suddenly quietly said and Vitali looked back up at him, needing a second to realize he himself had stood up as well and had followed Viktor further into the room.

‘The human mind punishes itself more than enough- and death just… puts an end to that. It’s what makes it so appealing to some when life gets very difficult for them.’

His words were carefully chosen and Vitali could feel his chest tighten again, a lump in his throat making it harder to swallow. He knew Viktor was just putting out general statements, but he couldn’t help but take notice of the slightly targeted remarks dripping down from between the lines, the backside of a coin presented to him visible through a reflective surface behind it.

‘I don’t think the others understand,’ Vitali absently mumbled, a poor attempt at changing the subject.

‘And I don’t think that matters all that much,’ was the ripperdoc’s straightforward response. ‘Nothing’s been forgiven. Nothing’s been forgotten. You simply spared his life and gave him a temporary place to stay, an opportunity to better himself. What he does with that is out of your control.’

He made it sound so easy.

Vitali rarely worried about his reputation among others, knowing very well he could not satisfy everyone and attempting to do that would be as useless as trying to rid Night City of all crime. Sure, he tried his best to stay on the good side of at least the Council- even during all of this he had done nothing to anger them on purpose- but he did not let his worries about it stop him from doing what he felt was best for the situation, or for the parties involved.

But accusations were starting to stack up rather rapidly now. The belief some had he had joined Arasaka again for a while- unaware of the brainwashing, or simply refusing to believe it had happened- the belief some had he was the Broker himself, and now the doubts people had in him because of the outright refusal to kill his father despite the man being just one person in the bigger picture of things.

‘Do you think it will work out?’ Vitali carefully asked, watching as Viktor began setting some tools back on a shelf- and for a split second he was twenty years old again, swaying on his feet with his head completely elsewhere begging Viktor to tell him it would all be okay, to tell him it would be worth it, only to be met with deafening silence and an averted gaze.

‘Of course it will, kid,’ Viktor quietly said and an involuntarily, relieved sigh left Vitali’s chest.

‘It always does.’

Everything would fall in place in time. Viktor was right- of course he was. Vitali had no idea how long it would take, what it would take, but he wasn’t one to give up so easily and neither were any of his friends and for any of them to walk away now after everything they had been through together would be the most unrealistic scenario he could think of.

Of course it would be fine, in the end.

‘Can’t say I’ll ever like him, though,’ Viktor suddenly jokingly added to his statement. ‘But- s’pose we can coexist in peace.’

Vitali huffed in response, taking a step back to lean against the wall. ‘Can you imagine.’

‘Not in a million years.’

They were quiet for a moment, Vitali’s mind wandering off a little as he considered the possibility.

‘I mean,’ he quickly added- not entirely sure why he felt the need to, but it was already too late to stop the words from leaving his lips- ‘he’s a boxer. Like me. Like you.’

Viktor stopped what he was doing to turn to Vitali, and in his eyes where Vitali had expected to find judgment he instead found a softness that gave him just enough courage to keep talking.

‘Makes the worst jokes I’ve ever heard,’ he softly continued, ‘worse than Mikhail, if you can believe it. We used to… We used to watch those horrible hospital tv shows together every Sunday night when Nadya wasn’t home. We would rank all the male doctors from most to least attractive… We never settled on a winner.’

His voice finally trailed off and so did his gaze, glossy eyes trailing over the concrete floor and settling on a small stain near Viktor’s feet.

‘I’m sorry, this is- this is probably too soon, I didn’t mean-’

‘No such thing as too soon.’ Soothing, still, despite it all, like the strong hand he reached out and rested reassuringly on Vitali’s shoulder.. ‘You’ve had to carry that with you for years. Through all of this.’

He had.

Not at any point in time had Vitali stopped seeing Matvey as his father.

‘It feels like a lifetime ago,’ he mumbled, and his eyes fluttered shut when Viktor stepped forward and pulled him in for a hug, a sense of comfort washing over him and taking away any worries he’d had when he had entered the shop.

‘You think things will go back to how they used to be?’

‘No,’ Viktor replied without hesitation, but his voice lacked any hostility.

‘Absolutely not. And that’s for the best.’

The penthouse was not yet dark when Vitali came home, a couple of lights from the living room dimly illuminating the hallway leading up to the front door. A welcoming sight; his years in solitude had not done him well and Vitali would be forever glad to no longer have to live alone.

Mikhail and Vincent were curled up on the couch together under a blanket, quietly laughing about a joke one of them had made. The TV was still on, and Vitali’s eyes trailed over the coffee table- drinks and the remnants of snacks scattered across the marble tabletop.

Movie night. He had missed it a lot in the past few months.

‘Hey baby,’ Vincent said as Vitali walked closer and he reached out to gently grab both of Vitali's hands to drag him on the couch next to him. ‘How’d it go?’

‘Good,’ Vitali answered, leaning in to press a soft, slightly hesitant kiss on the corner of Vincent’s mouth. ‘Good, I think. He’s at the safehouse, everything is settled. For now.’

A short pause, as he sucked in a shallow breath and took a moment to scan both their faces. Vincent had not stopped smiling since he had entered, still looking up at him with a sleepy look in his eyes; but Mikhail refused to make eye contact, visibly biting the inside of his cheek as he instead played with Vincent’s hair. He was notably holding back all of his tics.

‘And here?’ Vitali quietly asked, gaze lingering on Mikhail a little longer until he finally looked up to answer.

‘Rogue called,’ he said. ‘Council has…mostly calmed down by now. The fake profile and “evidence” was enough to convince them and- well, streets are mostly back to normal. Which is really all they ever wanted in the first place.’

‘No ties to me? Or my-’ He stopped to swallow his words. ‘Or to Matvey?’

‘None at all,’ Vincent replied, and carefully brushed some of Vitali’s hair out of his face. ‘Don’t expect an apology from them, but- it’s over now.’

Vitali huffed. ‘All I ever wanted.’

It would do him good to finally no longer have to deal with them. The feeling of their eyes on his back had been a constant annoyance throughout the whole ordeal and all of that could have so easily been prevented if they had simply listened to him from the start.

But Vitali found it was best not to dwell on the Council’s behavior and decisions for too long. As Vincent rightfully said- expecting an apology would be as stupid as expecting to get any financial compensation or support from them for the resources and supplies lost along the way.

At least it would secure his spot out of their direct line of fire during the next Council meeting, whenever that would be. The thought alone already made him shudder- he’d never been all too fond of the gatherings in the first place, but they had gotten significantly worse since, well, recent developments.

‘What about Rogue?’ he finally asked, pushing his own thoughts aside.

‘Mostly just sounded very relieved that it is all over now,’ Mikhail said, shrugging as he grabbed the TV remote to turn off the still rolling credits from whatever movie they’d watched. ‘Will you- Will you go see her?’

‘Did she say anything?’

‘No.’

‘Then I should probably just stay out of her way for a while. Best for all of us.’

That finally got a smile out of Mikhail, glancing over to look at Vincent who had kept his mouth shut but was furiously nodding and Vitali gave him a playful poke in his side, causing his boyfriend to snort and accidentally headbutt Mikhail in the arm in his delayed attempt at dodging.

‘You know what we should do?’ Mikhail asked, playful sparkle in his eyes as he jokingly pulled Vincent closer to hold him in a headlock. ‘Go on vacation. Get out of town for a little bit.’

‘Hmm- Sounds lovely,’ Vitali said with a smile, kicking off his shoes and pulling his legs up on the couch as he moved closer to the both of them and allowed Vincent to drag him in for a hug. ‘Where to?’

‘Panam and Judes are going back to Arizona for a while, meet up with Saul and the others there,’ Vincent said, holding on to Mikhail’s arm with one hand and placing the other on Vitali’s waist. ‘Could go with ‘em- or the east coast.’ He glanced up to look at Mikhail. ‘You still got family there?’

‘I do.’ His eyes briefly lingered on Vincent before moving back to Vitali, and a few soft clicks of his tongue left his lips before he continued. ‘They still want to meet you, by the way.’

Vitali softly smiled back and lowered his gaze, chest tightening a little as Mikhail spoke. He had often mentioned his extended family in their childhood; had often asked Vitali to come with him one day, and how Vitali had wanted to but had never been allowed to travel outside of town because of Nadya and her general dislike of his friend.

Things are different now. She’s not here.

He couldn’t help but wonder where she was, though. If she was doing well.

‘I’m going to bed, important day tomorrow at office.’

Mikhail finally let go of Vincent and kissed him on the head, then reached out to ruffle Vitali’s hair- receiving a fake groan in return as response- and he leaned in to give him a hug, hands on the back of Vitali’s head and running in circles on his back as Vitali dropped his head in the crook of Mikhail’s neck and briefly closed his eyes.

Everything is fine. You’ve not ruined anything.

Mikhail gave him a kiss on his temple and then finally got up from the couch, stretching and yawning before making his way toward the hallway on their left.

‘Good night, you two.’

‘Night,’ Vitali replied in unison with Vincent, who immediately mumbled ‘jinx’ after it and instantly received another poke between his ribs from Vitali. He giggled and shuffled closer, pressing his face against Vitali’s shoulder as he carefully wrapped his arms around his waist.

‘Took you long to get home,’ he murmured against Vitali’s neck, softly pressing his lips against his skin.

‘Had some things to do,’ Vitali absently replied and hooked his arm under Vincent’s leg to pull him on his lap, quickly glancing into the hallway to check if Mikhail was out of sight.

‘Nothin’ I wouldn’t do, I hope?’

Not a surprising question- and Vitali could not blame him. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t considered it; stopping by a bar on the way there, or on the way home, couple shots wouldn’t hurt him- on a surface level, at least- and at least it would cause his anxiety to settle down for the time being.

But he couldn’t do that to Vincent. Not again.

‘I went to see Vitya,’ he quietly explained himself, gently cupping Vincent’s cheek to make him look up at him, and gave him another soft smile. ‘That’s all.’

Vincent blinked a few times and then leaned in to Vitali’s touch, cheek pressing against his palm- slightly turned his head to kiss it, before turning back and gently fixing the collar of Vitali’s shirt for him. Keeping his hands busy; he was nervous.

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, one of his fingers hooking into Vitali’s shirt a little bit and brushing past his collarbone. ‘Shouldn't've doubted you.’

‘Hey,’ Vitali gently interrupted him and placed his hands over Vincent’s, waiting until his attention was back on him. ‘It’s okay. I get it.’

‘No, no- it’s- I just-’

‘All of it.’

He almost startled himself with it; but it was the truth.

No amount of attempting to justify himself and his actions would take away the fact it made sense people had started to doubt him somewhere along the way. If anything, Vitali’s stubbornness had made everything ten times more complicated than had been necessary and he was surprised it hadn’t caused any bigger arguments to break out in all the time that had passed.

‘My family has always been complicated,’ he quietly continued, lowering his gaze and softly running his thumbs over Vincent’s hands. ‘I- I don’t expect you to ever understand and I know what it looks like from the outside. I do. And I can’t blame you at all.’

‘Vito-’

‘I don’t know if I’m making a mistake with this.’ A brief pause, a shaky inhale. ‘I don’t know what is going to happen next, what he will do. What I will do. But I just- I couldn’t kill him.’

‘I know, baby.’

Vincent carefully cupped Vitali’s face in both his hands and leaned in- a brief moment of hesitation, as if they’d been sent back in time and suddenly had only been together for maybe a month or two- and kissed him as sweetly as he always did, the familiar taste of his peach chapstick spilling into Vitali’s mouth as he pulled him closer.

Vitali would be lying if he said he hadn’t been scared he would never get to experience that ever again.

‘Suppose it was complicated for him too,’ Vincent quietly continued, slightly pulling back and brushing his nose past Vitali’s, ‘considering- well, you know. And… I won’t fully understand it, but I understand that. Can’t fuckin’ stand my piece of shit oldest brother but if I’d find him bleeding out I- I also- you know. A little different, of course, but- I get it. I do.’

‘I never meant for any of you to get dragged into all of this,’ Vitali mumbled, keeping his eyes closed as he softly pressed his lips against Vincent’s again. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You keep apologizing, but none of this is your fault. He started hunting you down- that’s on him.’

‘I should have dealt with things differently-’

‘How?’

Vincent pulled back a little further and Vitali finally opened his eyes, barely able to see his boyfriend through the blur of his own tears.

‘What would you have done differently if you could go back in time?’ Vincent asked, running his thumbs over Vitali’s cheeks. ‘What would you change?’

‘I would… I would’ve…’

He couldn’t finish his sentence.

‘Bit late, don’t you think? Or should I say early?’

Vitali’s eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled deeply, slowly dropping his head against the front door as he closed it with a soft click and reluctantly turned around to face his father- once again already dressed to leave for work, arms crossed in front of his chest.

‘They really wanted me to be there,’ he quietly mumbled in response, wincing slightly when Matvey reached out to grab his jaw and gently run his thumb past a large bruise on his cheek.

‘I can tell,’ he replied. ‘What happened?’

‘Nothing for you to worry about.’

‘Are you alright, at least?’

Vitali clenched his jaw and could not force an answer out of himself.

He wouldn’t have done anything different. And he knew. And he knew that Vincent knew.

Perhaps foolish, or naive- but it had paid off in the end, as messy as it had been. Death happened each and every day in Night City and even fixers weren’t safe from that; a somewhat morbid reminder of that to mercenaries and the Council alike, and if anything it had finally woken them up after who knows how long of being so certain of their own untouchability.

Who knows how it all would have ended, had Vitali done something different? Who would have lived? Who would have died? He was no longer sure what had caused the dominos to fall in the first place- and there had been no way to prevent it from happening, years of events setting it in motion out of itself- and no one had been able to predict where the chain reaction would lead them in the end.

‘Family’s fuckin’ complicated,’ Vincent said, kissing Vitali on the forehead before getting up and walking over into the kitchen to pour the both of them a drink. ‘I’m just glad that it’s over now. And that you’re still with me.’

Vitali absently nodded, gaze wandering off to the large windows along the wall behind him, looking out over the balcony and the pier of Wellsprings, the vast ocean blending in with the dark horizon far outside the city.

And for a brief second, he could feel his entire body freeze, eyes locked onto the darkness ahead and breath caught in his throat; it felt familiar, too familiar, swallowed whole by the endless void with the feeling of eyes staring right back at him, waiting, expectantly.

‘Hey.’

Vincent had walked back to him, concerned frown decorating his brow as he sat back down next to him and gently cupped his cheek to force his gaze away from the ocean and back on him, the warmth of the light above the coffee table causing the uncomfortable feeling in his chest to settle down- but it did not vanish entirely.

‘I love you,’ Vitali quietly said, the words heavy in his mouth as he spoke and he could only barely stop a tear from escaping the corner of his eye when Vincent smiled at him and pulled him closer to his chest, the warmth of his arms finally making Vitali feel at peace again, and at home.

‘And I love you, baby. Not ever gonna change.’

Life in Night City moves fast.

Its endless crowds are an overwhelming presence during every hour of the day, under the sweltering west coast sun as well as under the blinding city lights long after dark. An ever-growing playground for corporations, fixers and fortune seekers alike- the city of dreams that swallows everyone who does not know what they’re getting themselves into whole; without remorse, and without hesitation.

A city where tragedy strikes too often for people to concern themselves with it anymore- most have grown numb after years and years of hearing the same news on the radio, and most know it’s a waste of energy to even try to care. Cut off one head and two take its place; and one seed planted can infect many at once, leaving the source of the problem nearly irrelevant in comparison to what has grown in the meantime.

Impossible to predict and impossible to control. Many have tried- many have failed- from corporations attempting to get inside people’s heads and control their every move from within to a single man taking matters into his own hands to try and rid the streets of its corruption, starting with its intricate network of fixers and mercenaries as a whole.

But in all of that, there are still people who do care. Who choose each other over and over again- who choose life, over and over again- who refuse to be stripped from their humanity and hold on to it as tightly as they hold on to each other through it all.

The city itself might never change. But people can.

That’s what makes us human after all, isn’t it?

[licorice-and-rum]

To Decadent Poets - Chapter 3

Summary - find more chapters, read the synopsis, and trigger warnings here!

“Inside the night that covers me Black as the pit, from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.” — William E. Henley, Invictus

Christian didn’t want to talk but it seemed no one in this house knew how to understand the concepts of privacy and personal space. Maybe that was the reason why his father was almost knocking the door of his room down, demanding he open it, his voice grave and powerful.

And he would. Sometime after getting out of the shower and dressing up.

But he knew his mom would end up having to endure it if he didn’t open it soon, so Chris hurried up to change and opened up the damn door, facing Maxwell with stony eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked, hissing in anger while his father stared at him with a furious expression, the deep brown eyes they shared shining bright with his bad humor. Chris couldn’t care less about all of his drama.

“Why are you not having dinner?” asked Maxwell, clenching his teeth and Chris looked at him, incredulous.

“Oh... because I’m not hungry?” he asked in a sarcastic tone that made his father frown deeply, wrinkles appearing all across his forehead. It made him look old.

“You’re leaving tomorrow and you won’t even have dinner with your family?”

The question was loaded with accusations and it made Christian feel rage downing in his veins like lava flowing from a volcano. He passed through the door’s threshold, closing the door behind him to stand on the dark corridor of his house as Maxwell watched him.

“I already spent the day with my family,” Christian said, using the same tone Maxwell had, wishing more than ever that he could hurt him, wishing his father cared as much as Christ tried not to. “Mom and Nana had me the whole day, I don’t need to worry about me being an insensitive prat like you are.”

“Be careful of how you speak to me,” Maxwell stuck his finger in Chris’ face with a severe expression that would never intimidate him. “I’m your father”

Those words made everything inside Christian freeze. He looked Maxwell in the eyes, feeling nothing more than cold and ice cascading down his veins like a snowstorm. He had no will to get angry at that because as Much as it was true, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all.

“A father is one of the things you never were to me,” was all Chris said before leaving, going downstairs silently, not wanting to be noticed by anyone.

Miraculously, Maxwell didn’t follow him to continue their argument, and at least that made Chris relax as he walked slowly to the living room, where he knew he’d find what he needed to push away the knot in his throat and the tightness in his chest from what would happen tomorrow and in the nearest future.

Chris couldn't help but ask his mother during breakfast that day who was his godfather whose property he’d be staying indefinitely and Jeane was helpful in giving him all the information she could remember about his godfather, Elijah, the owner of Taigh Hill, and Elliot Wood, his younger brother. As it was, they both seemed happy to accept him just like two other boys his age, children of his staff who had solicited the favor.

Chris couldn’t deny he was curious to know more about the other boys but he also couldn’t push away the feeling he was abandoning his mom, which made him reluctant to think about such matters and get even a bit excited with the prospect.

Chris sighed as he looked at the shelves beside the fireplace, the countless books bound by leather whispering their stories, dropping their honey to those who were thirsty for them. Filled with life and too attractive for Chris not to let his fingers dance over their spines, reading the familiar titles, books his hand had passed through thousands of times, that made him feel like he wasn’t so alone. He knew it was cliche to say that but books had saved him from so Much unnecessary suffering.

They had saved him.

Finally, his fingers stopped at the book he was looking for and he pulled it from the shelf, leafing through the pages until he found the one he’d already read thousands of other times, running his finger over the ink and the letters, murmuring the words he knew by heart:

         Out of the Night that covers me          Black as the pit, from pole to pole,          I thank whatever gods may be          For my unconquerable soul.          [...]          It matters not how strait the gate          How charged with punishments the scroll          I am the master of my fate          I am the captain of my soul.

Chris looked at those words of blurred ink, internalizing them with an involuntary shiver. They were so powerful he could almost feel them physically, caressing his cheeks, warming his heart, loosening the knot in his throat as he knew they would do.

“Chris, is everything okay?” the sweet voice of his mom entered his ears, taking him from the world of the words with a sudden push, making him raise his eyes to her, blinking away his surprise at seeing her there with Nana, both of them knitting.

Jeane seemed better with the afternoon while Nana still had that serious, sour expression on her face, no doubt remembering the Great War time when she lost her husband. He forced himself to smile at his mom, walking towards them calmly, not allowing himself to hesitate.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he answered while sitting on the armchair beside hers and watching the two most important women in his life. Chris waited for a while until he took a deep breath to gather the courage to ask Jeane: “You’re really not going?”

He didn’t know what he looked like then but Chris could hear the tremble in his voice, the vulnerability in it. And maybe Jeane had seen something in her child’s eyes because he put aside her knitting needles and turned completely to him, her baby blue eyes shining with all the worry she was fighting to hide from him.

When her fingers touched Chris’ face, he felt the same as when he’d read the poem. It was like the words were penetrating his soul as if his mother’s touch was something sacred and revered. He let his head roll down, closing his eyes to enjoy the caress. When Jeane spoke, her voice was melodious, a murmur full of emotion:

“Believe me, cariad, I wish I could go with you or that I had a way to keep you close to me but I can’t...” Her voice was taken by emotion, making Chris open his eyes to look at his mom’s baby blues. “I can’t abandon your dad because this will be Hell for him and it’s my duty as his wife and life partner to stay by his side. I couldn’t bear, though, if you were in danger.”

“While you’re free to choose the risk,” Chris shot back resignedly, leaving the armchair to sit on the wooden floor, by his mother’s leg as he embraced them like he did when he was a child and felt sad his dad wasn’t present to some special date or event.

He let his head rest on her lap and Jeane didn’t hesitate to run her fingers through his hair soothingly.

“We’re all free to do so, mi hijo,” said Nana with her Spanish accent getting thicker because of the emotion she was trying so hard to hide. “But you know your parents would never know peace if you stayed. Or even me, to be honest. War is hard and it takes a lot of people, but more importantly, it takes a lot from people. The young ones especially.

“I’m realizing that,” was all Chris said in a murmur, his eyes closed as his mom kept running her fingers through his hair.

He didn’t leave when Maxwell entered, although it wasn’t the same relaxed feeling he felt as he talked to both women before, but Chris tried to pretend he didn’t exist as his father did the same. Chris found out pretty quickly it wasn’t so relieving as he thought it would be.

——— ◘ ———

On the following morning, Chris and his family arrived early at the train station, which was already filled with people coming and going from their jobs, all of them carrying tired expressions but with arrogant, optimistic feelings on their straightened backs. He could hear his father’s assistant commenting that they already had won the war and that the Germans wouldn’t have a chance. Chris almost laughed at the poor fool.

As a diligent reader, Chris had begun to understand the world they lived in too early and he had always cared about the news, especially When it was about external affairs. He knew well that England was broke, as were many countries because of the Wall Street Crash of 1929 and the Great War at the beginning of the century; he knew it’d be a difficult war that would drag on for years before it was over.

Chris also knew about what Hitler had been doing to the Jews in Germany and to think of that kind of cruelty gave him shivers even if he tried not to think about it, as his mother had requested some time ago. It was hard to have hope when one knew everything there was to know around the world and something they quite needed was hope.

Chris took a deep breath, trying to ignore the push and shove of people around him as he tried to also protect Jeane from it. They were in front of the train, impatient because they knew they had no time left. Maxwell seemed as cold and distant as always, and he didn’t even look at his son or Jeane as they said their goodbyes, preferring to speak to his assistant instead.

When the final moment arrived, mother and son looked at each other with pain filling their eyes. Chris didn’t even try to resist the impulse of pulling his mom in to hug her with all the strength he had, holding on to her as if she was all that he had. For a long time, it had been true.

Jeane hugged him back, always armed with her infinite softness and didn’t let go of him until the train whistled, warning the passengers to get in soon. As they let go, Chris touched their foreheads together for a couple of seconds, his eyes still closed. Then he let go of her, looking at Jeane, then at Maxwell.

They exchanged an uncomfortable look, neither of them knowing what to do. At last, Chris turned with his back straightened. As he walked away from his parents, he had this latent sensation that he was losing a part of himself and the shadow of his dad’s goodbyes was tormenting him. It was like the phantoms of Maxwell’s arms were around him as he walked, pushing him back to them so that their place was finally occupied. The words he could’ve said also brushed his brain, circling his thoughts he couldn’t get in order.

Chris knew if he’d stayed even one second more in Maxwell’s company, he’d end up saying something he would regret and they’d end up fighting just like they had done yesterday and the day before. And the weeks prior. And the months.

And all those years since Chris had grown tired of waiting for him at his birthday parties. He was thirteen when he cried for the last time because of his father’s absence and he remembered that night very well. It was the night of the accident. The night he’d lost part of the movement on his hand and what made it impossible for him to join the Army.

A sigh escaped his lungs before he could suppress it and Chris ignored the bad look of the old lady in front of him because of it. It wasn’t like he cared what she thought of him — the woman meant nothing to him anyway.

While passing through the cabins, Chris saw some interesting people and others that seemed as boring as attending a trigonometry class. He kept himself far away from the latter until he found an almost empty cabin: the only passenger was alone in it. The blond boy seemed unhappy and uncomfortable as he stared at the window, lost in his thoughts.

“Excuse me,” Chris said, catching the boy’s attention. “Is there someone seated here?”

“No,” said the boy in response, clearly apprehensive and the reason was obvious: Christian could easily identify the German accent.

This is the reason, he thought as he stared at the boy for a couple of seconds, why the cabin was empty. The boy was German. In the minds of ridiculous people, he might have been an enemy, although Christian could hardly conceive that logic.

“Right, I’m gonna sit with you then,” he said as he got over his moment of shameful hesitation. Christian pulled his suitcase along, putting it on the luggage rack above with some hardship, and sat in front of the boy, looking at him in open curiosity. “I’m Christian. You?

“Oliver,” the boy said, looking back at him with equal curiosity. “You know you can sit anywhere on the train, don’t you?

“Here seems like as good of a place as any,” Christian responded as he felt his stubbornness grow. He smiled, raising his hand to the boy in front of him. “It’s nice to meet you, Oliver.”

There was only a second of hesitation before Oliver smiled back and shook his hand.

“I can say the same, Christian.”

“Call me Chris.”

Go to Chapter 4

[misswitchbella]

Tw:gore ps nika is 25 and yueri is 33

⚠️this is fiction kids!⚠️

A short creepypasta story

Nika looked around the alleyway. “YOU!” A voice appeared. A wicked smile across beneath her Mask her face the person pulls her hair nika pushed them away before everything turns black she finally gained consciousness as she causally washes off the blood from a near by river. She washes off the blood from her gun and knives. And the body near her “no one cuts my pinche hair pendejo!” she said pissed off as she started to slowly cut the head off with her knife while a stream of blood poured into the water as it became apart of the stream. She started dismembering the body from ears to the toes. She stole a few dollars the guy had as well as a credit card. She took out the eyes and brains or what was left of the brains causally. “So you killed someone again?” Yueri said “yeah pretty much now I have to burn the pendejo. Maybe send a little something for the family” nika responded “you got the address?” Yueri questioned “not yet” nika said a smirk appeared on her face. “So? What did this one do?” Yueri asked folding his arms “I don’t want to talk about it” nika said “ok” yueri responded. They both shaped as they heard a creek to a scream nika jumped to attack knife in hand only to get tased her body slammed to the ground as yueri grabbed his bat with rusty nails . He whacked the way he once did years ago before it all went to shit. A face appeared his darling Lyna Richards guilt ran throughout his body only for him to snap out of it . He continued to visioned visioned him hitting a baseball as he swing the memory transition to now blood splattered through out area while the body slammed onto the ground. “Shit” nika said getting up weakly from being tased “ya good nika?” Yueri said holding out a hand for nika “yeah pendejo” nika told him as yueri pulls her up. “Wanna rob this one?” Nika asked as she picked pocketed this one “Slender don’t pay us shit might aswell” yueri said . Meanwhile she pulled out 40$ out of the pocket of the stranger they just murdered. “Man fuck all them bitches. Don’t they know not to fuck around” yueri said crossing his arms “didn’t you sweet precious Lyna do that shit?” Nika said mocking him “at least I’m not the one who was abandoned by their friends and got picked up by slender” yueri said as a comeback “at least I don’t grave rob my dead girlfriends grave only to dance with her corpse like a maniac” nika said with a sassy tone “nika we are both maniacs!” Yueri said “and that different you’d do the same” yueri said mad at the fact nika was talking crap about him and Lyna “it’s been like what 17 YEARS! Yueri imma tell what you tell the others GET OVER IT!!!!” Nika said in a rude tone of voice “then you get over the fact that you don’t remember shit. That ya only remember that your momma used to cut your damn hair off as punishment and give you an ass whopping!….” Yueri said folding his arms “not everyone lived a good life unlike you at least I had a reason to murder my mom” nika said mad at yueri “sorry then!” yueri said sarcastically as he cleans his bat. “How dose it feel knowing you fucked up your relationship with the only family member you have left?” Nika said “I ain’t talking about her” yueri responded “come on yueri? You said I remind you of her!” Nika said “ I said drop it!” Yueri said getting mad “why you afraid to talk about your sister Izumi?” Nika said while yueri stayed silent “ok fine” nika said as they both dismembered the body. Soon after nika got in the car with yueri. It was silent as they took off their masks while driving with two body parts in the back a toe and a brain. They both stopped by and dropped them off at the houses. Their took out a cigarette out aswell at a lighter to light the cigarette. Yueris face was hard as concrete. “I treated you like family when the other didn’t don’t do that shit to me ever again” yueri said calmly “ok dickface” nika said “my mother said that I was domed to be a failure little did I know she was right” nika said as she pulled a vape from her pocket from her ripped pants. “Slenderman needs us” yueri said as they drive off for a mission.

[enkhanthor]

Legacy History Challenge - Original Age - Genesis

Note: English isn’t my mother language and I’m not an expert in idiomatic expression. So if you find any errors or something weird, please forgive me and let me know on “ask me” if you want.

LHC Doc - EN/US - Complete Doc with all Ages.

LHC Doc - PT/BR - Doc Completo com todas as Eras.

This Age is additional and is inspired by the Judeo-Christian religion, the Book of Jubilees and the Genesis Challenge, which consists of populating the world of The Sims 4 with a descendant of your original Sims in each house. In the Legacy History Challenge this goal can be completed throughout all Ages. If you already play the LHC and started in the Prehistoric Age, you don't need to restart the challenge. The Original Age - Genesis has a mythological basis and is not mandatory. Therefore, the Legacy Founder remains the Matriarch of the Prehistoric Age. If you've never played the LHC before, you can choose to start the challenge in this Age or the next. In Original Age- Genesis the player is The Watcher (God of The Sims Medieval) and must create a couple of Sims that will be the parents of the Founding Sim of the LHC. If you have any means of getting  “The Mystical Magic Bean Tree Portal” or the forbidden fruit of the PlantSim you can use these items. (I found it in the Debug of the base game and the seeds always appeared in the Evergreen Harbor dumpsters). If you don't make it, just follow the indications in the rules and fantasize a little.

INTRODUCTION

In the beginning there was the void and The Watcher was bored. So The Watcher used the Create a Sim to create a couple of Sims. He placed this couple in a secluded paradise and made them owners of all things there (except modern items). On the island where they lived there was a volcano that made the land around them barren, but a very beautiful tree grew on it. The Watcher warned the couple never to go near that tree or start from the fruits it provided, for their own safety.

Turns out the Sims couple was also bored, they had no knowledge (and no television). So they discovered woohoo and had lots of kids. For a long time everyone lived on that island in peace and harmony, but one of his daughters was different from her siblings. She was a very curious child and had a desire to know if there was something beyond that world. The girl was always upset that her parents didn't listen to her and were happy with the simple life they led. So, on her birthday, when she grew to a teenager, she decided to defy The Watcher's orders. The girl approached the forbidden tree and discovered the wonders it hid. He brought a forbidden fruit to her parents and convinced them to eat it. As soon as the parents ate the fruit, a terrible curse fell on them, making them green and strange, like plants.

Sims got desperate and tried to make offerings to The Watcher, but He wouldn't respond. After days of offerings the children became disheartened and angry that the Watcher had abandoned them. But one sibling didn't give up, he gathered offerings for all the children. Seeing the sacrifice, The Watcher agreed to lift the curse, but the evil was already in place. One of the jealous siblings started a fight, causing the death of the devout sibling. As punishment, The Watcher decided that the Sims were no longer worthy of paradise and decided to scatter the brothers across the various worlds of The Sims 4 Universe. Out of mercy, He granted the girl the oblivion of the pain that her disobedience had generated. Thus, the girl began to wander alone, forgetting her family and condemning her own lineage to the suffering of the world outside paradise.

RULES

1 - Adam and Eve in Paradise:

1.1 - Create a couple of Sims in Create a Sim at the age of young adults.

1.2 - Name the couple whatever you like. You can use traditional biblical names or use your creativity, putting the surname as Watcherson, for example. The original families of The Sims always have a thematic name (Gotth, Caliente, Landgraab). So, I decided to adopt Legacy in my gameplay.

1.3 - Sims cannot be occult.

1.4 - The appearance of these Sims can be customized by the player, with no restrictions on skin, eye, and hair color.

1.5 - Aspiration doesn't matter. These Sims are Legacy Precursors, not Founders. Therefore, your aspiration doesn't need to be completed, and there aren't any that match this Age anyway.

1.6 - You can choose any traits you like, as long as you avoid the modern traits like "Geek" and "Lactose Intolerant". I suggest the "Cheerful", "Childish" and "Loves Outdoors" traits. “Cheerful” contrasts with the “Hot-head” of the Prehistoric Age. “Childish” demonstrates the personality of those Sims who don't know the difficulties and didn't have to “grow up”. “Loves Outdoors” refers to the environment of Paradise.

1.7- The couple can only use leaves as clothes. You can find these outfits under the “fantasy” section of my custom content directory.

1.8 - Lifetime can be normal.

1.9 - You must start a New Save and turn off all Neighborhood lots and NPCs.

1.10 - The season is optional (I suggest starting in the spring), however turn off the storms. In Sulani it rains a lot and the rays affect the outdoor gameplay.

1.11 - Place the couple on one of the lots near the Sulani waterfall and volcano in the Mua Pel’am neighborhood. Requires “The Sims 4 Tropical Island” expansion.

1.12 - You are free to customize the lot however you like, as long as you avoid modern and high-tech items. No television, fridge, sofa, video game, etc. Go for caves and items that look prehistoric or fit the place like custom castaway island content or Sulani's volcanic barbecue.

1.13 - You can even have a yoga mat, as long as it is made of leaves and not woven.

1.14 - Sims don't have to work. The initial money should support them.

1.15 - You can use motherlode or another money cheat if you want.

1.16 - Sims can have whatever skills they want as long as it's compatible with the island's way of life.

1.17 - Sims can do whatever you want and whatever they want (let them free, not controlling all the time).

1.18 - Sims don't need to cook. You can have the banquet table and always leave it full of food.

1.19 - You can use magic hands to help Sims get rid of dirty dishes or trash and replace broken objects, after all you are God and they are in heaven! And, well, they have to believe you exist.

2 - Be Fruitful and Multiply:

2.1 - Sims must have children by completing the Full House achievement (8 Sims in the household, at least 6 children), but can have even more.

2.2 - If you use MC Woohoo keep the woohoo risky at 30%. If you use any mod that has contraceptive methods, avoid them. If not using any mods, Sims can only “Try for a Baby”.

2.3 - All babies must be born at home. Eva cannot go to the hospital. It is not allowed to use Pandasama's Child Birth mod. Just click on the crib and choose the “Have Baby” option.

2.4 - Newborn babies and infants should be breastfed. Don’t use bottles.

2.5 - Adam can help Eve take care of the babies. Adam and Eve are equal, so the division of tasks is also equal.

2.6 - Sims are exempt from dying or rolling death dice at this early stage of the challenge.

2.7 - Name the babies however you like, but you can also use biblical names like Cain, Abel and Seth.

2.8 - Each child must have a different infant trait, considering the first six born.

2.9 - The starting couple is Generation 0. You must choose one of their daughters to be the Founder Sim of the Legacy History Challenge. The Founder Sim must have specific traits in adolescence (see rules 1.1 and 1.2 of the next Age).

2.10 - You don't need to grow your Sim with a birthday cake, but birthday cakes aren't forbidden either. ( To remove the forgotten birthday buff you can click on the Sim with the left mouse button and hold shift, go to “Sim Information Cheat” and choose the sentiment remover option or use the mod indicated in item 10.8).

2.11 - As children grow up, they must gain negative traits reminiscent of Original Sins. “Hot-headed” (sin of anger - for the Matriarch), “Lazy” (sin of laziness), “Jealous” (sin of envy and sin of avarice), “Glutton” (sin of gluttony), “Romantic” (sin of lust) and “Egocentric” or “Snob” (sin of pride). (“Materialistic” and “Freegan” could represent avarice, but I consider them too modern, since there is no Simoleon yet). If you find another trait that better represents a sin that you can use.

2.12 - If you have “The Sims 4: Parenthood” game pack, the children should have good parenting values, but one sibling should stand out (“Abel”), being the most beloved by parents. Which should lead to disputes with the jealous sibling (“Cain”) since childhood. ( The names Abel and Cain are just examples. They don't necessarily have to be male).

2.13 - Sims don't need to go to school. If using MC Command Center, disable schools for children and teenagers.

3 - Lord of all things and animals:

3.1 - You can have animals that look wild, but you cannot escape rule 1.2.1. Therefore, you will need to increase the maximum number of Sims in your family/group with MC Command Center or another mod if you want to have animals.

3.2 - No vet. If the animal gets sick you can remove the disease from it. (With the shift button pressed, click the left mouse button on the animal. Find the option "make happy”).

4 - The Seventh Day:

4.1 - Create the “Watcher's Day” holiday on Saturdays and make gratitude a tradition. Requires “The Sims 4 Seasons” expansion.

4.2 - Exclude all other holidays from the game.

4.3 - Every Saturday your Sims must make an offering to The Watcher. It can be a seashell, fish, fruit, something found in volcanic meteors, or something that's in your Sim's inventory, but it needs to be an offering by each Sim starting at the Child stage of life. Reserve a space on your lot for the place of offerings and build a primitive altar. It could be a simple stone table, or leaves and stones on the ground, with no image of The Watcher.

5 - The Original Sin

5.1 - After customizing the starting lot, customize the lot next to the volcano.

5.2 - Place the “Volcanic Activity” lot challenge on this lot.

5.3 - Find “The Mystical Magic Bean Tree Portal” in the base game Debug. It’s purple and looks like a willow tree. It is usually near the bean seeds. If you don't find it, you can put any beautiful tree that is in your game. (To activate Debug, press the Ctrl+Shift+C keys, type testingcheats true in the line that appears in the upper right corner of the screen and press enter. Type bb.showhiddenobjects and press enter. Then enter construction mode and Debug will be active.).

5.4 - You can also buy the magical beans stump from the garden planter box icon in buy mode. Get a different magic bean from Debug for each baby born until you complete the stump. Thus, you will complete the collection of magic beans. (The magic beans are in the "decoration" section of the Debug base game, next to the skulls. You can also left-click and shift-click the Sim and choose the “give all magic beans” option and your Sim will complete the collection without having to enter Debug. But you can only do that after you have six children).

5.5 - Your Sims should avoid going near “The Mystical Magic Bean Tree Portal” when on the volcanic lot. (Sims can go to this lot to dig the meteors).

5.6 - When the female Sim chosen to be the Founder grows to a teenager, go with her to the tree, go through the portal and take two forbidden fruits from the SimPlant. Give the fruits to her parents (from inventory) and make them eat. If you can't find the fruit, you can get it from the Debug near "The Mystical Magic Bean Tree Portal" or use the cheat to turn your parents into a PlantSim. (Press Ctrl+Shift+C, type testingcheats true and press enter. Then click on your Sim with the left button with the shift pressed and select the option “Make into PlantSim”).

5.7 - Sims should try to make an offering to The Watcher to try and cure their parent's PlantSim condition for three days in a row.

5.8 -.On the fourth day, catch 8 fishes with the most devout sibling (“Abel”) and drag them to the altar to make a giant offering, which serves all Sims.

5.9 - On the fifth day your parents should be back to normal. (Generally, the PlantSim condition lasts for 5 days.) The jealous sibling (“Cain”) must start a fight with the beloved sibling (“Abel”), leading to his death. Taunt the Sim until they die of rage (cardiac explosion).

6 - The Expulsion from Paradise

6.1 - You must move the Founder Sim to another lot in another world and follow the Prehistoric Age rules.

6.2 - If using the MC Command Center, delete the Founder Sim's relationships when removing her from the lot.

6.3 - You must place each sibling in a different world of The Sims 4, depending on the amount of packs you have.

6.4 - You can't play with your parents or siblings, but you can let neighborhood stories and MC Command Center carry on their lineage. However, they cannot stay in the same world as the Founder Sim or their descendants until the Agriculture Age. Note: It's good to continue the bloodline of at least one of the siblings, as it will carry the word of The Watcher to the other Sims of the world.

From now on, you must follow the rules of the Prehistoric Era and continue the legacy with your Founder Sim.

7 - Requirements to pass the Age:

7.1 - Adam and Eve must have 6 children and complete the “Full House” achievement.

7.2 - Complete the collection of magic beans (1 bean per child).

7.3 - The Founder Sim must have grown to the age of a teenager.

7.4 - The Founder Sim must get two forbidden fruits from the Simplant and turn her parents into a SimPlant

7.5 - One of the siblings must catch 8 fishes, make offerings for everyone and die of a cardiac explosion.

8 - Expansions, Game Packs and Stuff Packs:

8.1 - The Sims 4 Seasons (essential). Create the “Watcher’s Day” holiday on Saturdays and disable storms.

8.2 - The Sims 4 Tropical Island (essential). Live in Sulani, in the Mua Pel'am district.

8.3 - The Sims 4: Parenthood (optional). Have good character values.

9 - MCC settings (for those who use it):

9.1 - Automatic bill pay.

9.2 - Disable schools for children and adolescents.

9.3 - Increase the maximum number of the household, if you have animals.

9.4 - Delete Matriarch relationships.

9.5 - Continue neighborhood stories.

10 - Recommended Mods for this Age:

10.1 - MC Command Center by Deaderpoll - Manages various features of the game.

10.2 - No Random Townies by Zero  - 

Prevents the game from spawning NPCs. Note: if you use this mod you will have to create the partners of your siblings in Cas.

10.3 - T.o.o.l. by Twisted Mexi - Add and edit objects in the world.

10.4 - Sulani Hiders para Saves Pré-Históricos by Enkhanthor - Hides items from the world that don't match the Prehistoric Age.

10.5 - Blowtorch by Simsverses - Modern items are already deleted. Probably if you use this one you won't need the previous one.

10.6 - Pet Explore Bush Tweaks by Chingyu Vick Sims - Disables the autonomy of dogs and cats to enter the bushes.

10.7 - Nap on the ground by Triplis - Allows Sim to sleep on the floor, anywhere.

10.8 - No Sad Moddlet on Birthday by ClaudiaSharon - Removes forgotten birthday buff.

10.9 - Custom content befitting the Age. You can check the list I found in CC Links - LHC Directory on my homepage (I'm always updating)

11 - Sources (Books, Series and Movies):

11.1 - The Bible - Book 1 - Genesis 

11.2 - The Book of Jubilees

11.3 - Gênesis (Brazilian serie by TV Record) 

[cfv-legend-rank]

Three Prompts/ Day; you may select any one of the three provided!

20th

1. Sleeping Beauty - a princess whose parents are told by a wicked fairy that their daughter will die when she pricks her finger on a particular item. The parents rid the kingdom of these items in the hopes of protecting their daughter, but the prophecy is fulfilled regardless. Instead of dying, as was foretold, the princess falls into a deep sleep. After some time, she is found by a prince and is awakened.

2. Beauty And The Beast - a village girl whose father gets lost in the forest and steals a rose from the beast whose castle he chanced upon and sheltered in. In order to repay her father’s debt, she goes to live with the Beast, whom is under a mysterious curse, and eventually ends up marrying him.

3. Pinocchio - Toymaker Gepetto creates a wooden puppet toy named Pinocchio and wishes on a star that he would be a real boy. A kindly Blue Fairy appears and grants his wish thus making Pinocchio come alive. Pinocchio learns that he must prove himself worthy in order to make his father's wish come true.

21th

4. Jasmine - Aladdin is a lovable street urchin who meets Princess Jasmine, the beautiful daughter of the sultan of Agrabah. While visiting her exotic palace, Aladdin stumbles upon a magic oil lamp that unleashes a powerful, wisecracking, larger-than-life genie. As Aladdin and the genie start to become friends, they must soon embark on a dangerous mission to stop the evil sorcerer Jafar from overthrowing young Jasmine's kingdom.

5. Snow White - Snow White is a princess who lives with her stepmother, who is a witch. The witch uses an enchanted mirror to tell her who is the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. When the mirror answers ‘Snow White’, her stepmother has her taken into the forest to be killed. The huntsman charged with the task takes pity on the girl, and sets Snow White free. She comes across a little house where seven dwarfs live, and makes her home with them. Her stepmother tries various ways to kill her when she realizes her huntsman’s betrayal, but the princess is saved from death by the kiss of a prince.

6. Hansel and Gretel - this story is about the siblings, Hansel and Gretel, who are abandoned in a forest and fall into the hands of a witch who lives in a gingerbread, cake, and candy house. The evil witch plans to fatten the children before eating them, but Gretel outwits her and kills her.

22th

7. The Goose Girl - A widowed queen sends her daughter to a faraway land to marry. Accompanying the princess are her magical horse Falada, who can speak, and a waiting maid. The queen gives the princess a special charm that will protect her as long as she wears it. Backstabbed by her maid, the princess becomes a goose girl but is saved by the curiosity of a fellow servant boy and the king.

8. The Six Swans - a princess comes to the rescue of her brothers who have been turned into six swans. A vow of silence leaves her unable to defend herself against the most terrible injustice. She has to contend with not only a wicked stepmother, but a wicked mother-in-law too - which is surely less than fair, even by the standards of fairy tales.

9. The Frog Prince - In the tale, a spoiled princess reluctantly befriends the Frog Prince, whom she met after dropping a golden ball into a pond under a linden tree, and he retrieves it for her in exchange for her friendship. The Frog Prince, who is under a wicked fairy’s spell, magically back into a handsome prince. In the original Grimm version of the story, the frog's spell was broken when the princess threw the frog against the wall, at which he transformed back into a prince, while in modern versions the transformation is triggered by the princess kissing the frog.

23rd

10. Jack And The Beanstalk - Jack, a poor country boy, trades the family cow for a handful of magic beans, which grow into an enormous beanstalk reaching up into the clouds. Jack climbs the beanstalk and finds himself in the castle of an unfriendly giant. The giant senses Jack's presence and cries, “Fee, fie, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!” Outwitting the giant, Jack is able to retrieve many goods once stolen from his family, including an enchanted goose that lays golden eggs. Jack then escapes by chopping down the beanstalk. The giant, who is pursuing him, falls to his death, and Jack and his family prosper.

11. Little Red Riding Hood -  a tale of a young girl who comes across a cunning wolf on the way to her grandmother's home. The wolf deceives both her and her grandmother and eats them, a grim ending for the protagonist of the story. 

12. Ariel - a rebellious 16-year-old mermaid Ariel is fascinated with life on land. On one of her visits to the surface, which are forbidden by her controlling father, King Triton, she falls for a human prince. Determined to be with her new love, Ariel makes a dangerous deal with the sea witch Ursula to become human for three days. But when plans go awry for the star-crossed lovers, the king must make the ultimate sacrifice for his daughter.

24th

13. Rumpelstiltskin - a mysterious gnomelike man who spins straw into gold for the benefit of a beautiful miller's daughter, in exchange for her future firstborn child. The little man reappears to demand his payment when the young woman, now the queen, bears her first child.

14. Thumbelina - a tiny girl and her adventures with marriage-minded toads, moles, and cockchafers. She successfully avoids their intentions before falling in love with a flower-fairy prince just her size.

15. Snow Queen - This story is about love between friends. A little girl named Gerda was getting ready to find her friend Kai who disappeared. She crossed forests, mountains and hills to come to the Snow Kingdom and bring her friend back home. She confronts Snow Queen and shows that friendship can be permanent and last forever. You should also cherish your friends because they are the ones who are here in times of need.

25th

16. Puss In Boots - an anthropomorphic cat who uses trickery and deceit to gain power, wealth, and the hand in marriage of a princess for his penniless and low-born master.

17. Princess And The Pea - A prince insists on marrying a real princess. When a woman comes to his door maintaining that she is a real princess, the prince's mother tests her by burying a pea under a huge stack of mattresses and then ordering the woman to sleep on the mattresses.

18. Chang’E - Chang'e and her husband Houyi were immortals living in heaven. One day, the ten sons of the Jade Emperor transformed into ten suns, causing the earth to scorch. Having failed to order his sons to stop ruining the earth, the Jade Emperor summoned Houyi for help. Houyi, using his legendary archery skills, shot down nine of the sons, but spared one son to be the sun. The Jade Emperor was obviously not pleased with Houyi's solution to save the earth: nine of his sons were dead. As punishment, the Jade Emperor banished Houyi and Chang'e to live as mere mortals on earth.

26th (2 prompts)

19. Cinderella - Sweet, beautiful Cinderella, cruelly mistreated by her evil stepmother and stepsisters, is helped by her magical fairy godmother, who sends her off to win the heart of a handsome prince and live happily ever after.

20. Mulan - Mulan takes her aged father's place in the conscription for the army by disguising herself as a man. After prolonged and distinguished military service against nomadic hordes beyond the northern frontier, Mulan is honored by the emperor but declines a position of high office.

27th; FREE!!!!

[wintersandthebeast]

12. Healed

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Link to Master List

Ethan barely recognized the manor when the procession--and the carriage--arrived at it..  He now realized that the ‘front’ door he’d used was actually a small side entrance, and the grand entryway was now wide open, with light and music pouring from its windows.  Ethan paused to admire the building in the fading sunlight.  Perhaps it, like its owner, had an elegant side after all.  

Heisenberg’s family home.  But then, where had his family gone?  Ethan felt a pang of sorrow for him, despite all of the bad blood.  Whether his family were on Miranda’s side or not, it seemed that Heisenberg had not been a part of this home.  It was in such a state of abandonment that Ethan doubted the man had set foot in it, much less lived in it, for half a century.  Tonight it looked positively beaming, if a house could, to hold people once again. 

When Ethan, Rosemary, and (much more slowly,) the Duke entered, Ethan felt stupid for not realizing this room existed.  It was a large ballroom, complete with a library and roaring fireplace on one far wall.  He was officially in a bad remake of Beauty and the Beast, he thought wryly, stepping into the warmth of the room.  Gas-lit chandeliers hung high in the extended ceiling and the entire room had Victorian wooden paneling, with intricate carvings and patterns across the span of the walls.  If Dimitrescu were alive, she might even have been jealous that her hobo-looking brother had such a nice home.  

The Duke had discussed the clan’s fasting before and during the funeral--and the feast after--(though the Duke himself would never partake in any such restrictive activity) and now every bit of food that was heated up earlier sat on long tables against the wall.  The group flooded in eagerly toward the tables.  There were chairs, a small stage for musicians, and plenty of sitting room.  Before he could even pick an activity, the giggling daughter of Maricara and her friend appeared in front of Ethan.

“May we feed, and change, and watch over your daughter?” they said in giggling, broken English, and Ethan warily hugged the child toward him.  

“Uh…” 

“They consider her a good luck charm,” the elder supplied, suddenly appearing at Ethan’s shoulder, leaning on him as though she were exhausted.  “To spend time with such a powerful child would surely bring good luck.  In their case, I imagine…the good luck is related to finding a boy.”  When she winked at Ethan, he begrudgingly nodded.  He bit his tongue when the woman assured him, “They take care of all our young ones, she will be safe.” 

Ethan turned fully to face Maricara then, looking to have his anxiety eased, and she raised her eyebrows, meeting his eyes.  “Besides, Mr. Winters…your child already has powerful friends looking after her, doesn’t she?” 

He was too startled to answer, but then mumbled to the teenagers the directions toward the room where all her belongings were.  When they left, the elder--a chieftain, in fact, he’d learned--tugged Ethan toward the tables.  “You have an important job after moon rise.  Eat, nourish your body.  Then you can sit with an old woman and talk.” 

Ethan smiled despite the feeling of dread he felt whenever he was separate from his daughter.  As he approached the food tables, he had an idea.  Without closing his eyes and summoning the liminal place, he focused away from the noise around him, and instead tried to focus on his daughter, the way he had unintentionally focused on Heisenberg the night before.  Slowly, the sounds he heard changed.  The rumble of talk and chatter and music faded, as if someone had lowered the volume.  

He heard her babbling noises, amplified now.  A fast little heartbeat, one that he listened to often.  He could sense the two girls nearby.  The sound of a bath being drawn, a drawer opening.  They were chatting in their language.  

Rosemary, if you need me.  He didn’t know if he had lost his mind or not yet, but if he hadn’t, telepathically talking to his daughter down the hall would probably qualify him.  Daddy’s here. 

Suddenly Rose squealed, giggled, and clapped.  Ethan’s eyes widened.  She had heard him. 

With a smirk, Ethan nodded to himself as he loaded his plate up with unfamiliar food.  Now, this is a power he could live with.  

Ethan sat on one of the sofas with Maricara and her entourage of clan elders; the Duke was on a wide cushion nearby, smoking a cigar.  Over half of the large crowd left at sundown, and now it was an hour past that.  The band was gone as well, the only sound in the room the lively chatter of its well-fed guests.  Karl was reclining, on one elbow, on the stage where the band had played.  His long legs splayed down over the steps.  

He was magnetizing coins and other metal objects that the children brought to him.  He would levitate the metal, they would shriek, it would drop, and they would then pick it up and start plastering it all over his face and arms.  When Karl got tired of this, he would cause the metal to levitate again, and the hooting giggles and cries of laughter would sound, and the cycle would continue.  

Maricara’s gaze moved from Ethan to Karl, and she smiled almost slyly.  “What is it that holds you back?” she asked bluntly, and the Duke laugh-coughed from nearby.  When Ethan shot him a ‘don’t even’ look, the man waved his cigar apologetically. 

He couldn’t even really answer, and for a moment Ethan was silent.  Finally he sighed, “I feel like he’s so…intertwined with Miranda, I don’t know how to separate it all.” 

“Ah,” she said shortly, and then, “Let me tell you a story.” 

She and the others settled back on their sofa, and the Duke turned to listen.  

“When Lord Heisenberg came home, this place was torn apart by war.  Everyone suffered.  The Heisenberg mines and refinery that fed our families for years,” she waved.  “Soviets invaded.  He…” her finger wagged at Ethan, as if chastising him, “....single handedly removed all of them.  Offered to open back up for our people.  So we would have jobs, food.  Economy.  But,” she sighed, “Miranda said no, he could not.  The only people she wanted to benefit were those worshiping her.  She said, if those lazy ungrateful ingrates converted to her faith, and grew her village, he could begin a workforce.  He could feed us.” 

That sounded like Miranda, he thought with a scowl.  He turned again to watch Heisenberg.  

“Then, do you know what he did?” she asked, her voice sounding almost heavier, burdened.  Ethan broke his gaze to meet her eyes.  Whatever she was about to say, he wasn’t going to like it.  He could tell from her tone. Several of the others began making signs of the cross.  The Duke’s face was unreadable as always.  

“He ran away to our village.  At the time I was a very little girl.  We live high in the Munții Baiului, just a day’s walk away,” she waved.  “Our chieftain's family, my uncle at the time, gave him open arms.  We always remember those who try to help.  He had tried very hard.  But we already knew.  Knew how Miranda hid everything away.” 

Maricara exhaled, and made the sign of the cross herself.  Finally she was ready to finish, “Within that week the household was dead.  Some sickness, a plague, but we know it was really her curse.  Every child of my uncles, included.  She punished our family.”  Another sigh, Ethan’s hazel eyes narrowing in anger.  “My father moved us just for safety.  But Lord Heisenberg was…so hurt.  He stayed far away for many years.  That was how Miranda kept him, and the others, in line.”  

Now Maricara’s gaze was fixed somewhere else, and she threaded her hands in her lap.  “I did not see him again until I was a woman with several children.  And then his comings were always in secret.  At night.  He did not want Miranda to know what he did.”  She sniffed, a light attempt at a laugh.  “He brought us our first television set.” 

When Ethan peered over at the Duke, the large man’s gaze was now in the flames of the nearby fireplace.  His expression seemed likewise forlorn and lost.  He puffed from the cigar.  Ethan moved his gaze over to Heisenberg; the reclining man was staring at him, still in a relaxed, almost catlike, position.  Ethan’s heart skipped a beat; there was something predatory in the lounging engineer’s yellow gaze.  It seemed to pierce him from across the room.  

The teenagers had fallen asleep on Ethan’s bed, with Rosemary in her crib.  He shook his head and exited with his white coat in tow; he figured the furs were more ceremonial than practical and whatever he and Karl were about to do would probably get messy anyway.  And if it didn’t, there was a large chance the items would be filled with negative energy, right?  It felt good to wear the jacket again.  Karl had stolen it from Mia on the same night he’d taken Rose. 

Jacket in tow, Ethan strode down the familiar hallway and through the entertainment room. Karl had left earlier, sending one of the English speaking children over to relay the message, “Heisenberg says get the lead out, Winters!” which caused some of the adults to explode with laughter.  

The cold bit into Ethan as he jogged down the steps, looking amid the still-remaining vehicles for Heisenberg.  As he scanned the darkness, Ethan zipped the jacket up, and flexed his left hand; it always hurt when he was in colder weather.  He was focusing on the fingers when the loud sound of hoofbeats made him spin on his heel.  

Karl was on the black horse again, but now wore his hat and trenchcoat.  He stared down at Ethan, his face illuminated by the red of his cigar.  When the blond raised his gaze, he was reminded again of the factory.  Red light both instilled fear in him, and….something else, some other emotion.  Heisenberg was all chaos and outbursts, and had been outwardly so while in his factory.  One minute praising and admiring Ethan, the next throwing him down a hole and ranting about Miranda.  

With the red light from the embers glinting from his cheek and uncovered eyes, Heisenberg was still very capable of instilling fear and dread.  But there was something else.  What was it?  As Ethan pondered, staring rather confusedly up at his former nemesis, Karl held out the hand that didn’t hold his hammer.  It was across his lap now, reins lazily in hand.  

Ethan was still unsure, still oddly intimidated by the man, until Heisenberg flung his hair as he often did.  A quick lift of his chin.  “Ready?”

The blond shook his head.  “As I’ll ever be.” 

When he grasped Heisenberg’s arm, the other hoisted him up behind him as though he’d done this maneuver hundreds of times.  In his usual flirty tone, Karl tossed over his shoulder, “Better hold on,” before digging his heels in and commanding the steed.  Ethan rolled his eyes as they jolted forward, and then stiffly put his arms around the man’s waist, treating him as if he were hot to the touch.  The horse stayed at a brisk trot until the trail got rougher, the farther away from the manor they rode.  When the still-burning bonfire came into view, the animal slowed as if uncertain.  Ethan gazed past Karl toward the chasm that awaited them.  Several Roma men sat diligently by the fire, prepared to keep it burning until the sun rose.  They gave an almost bow as the pair of men rode by, getting even closer to the brink.  

Finally Karl seemed satisfied; he dismounted, and Ethan hesitated.  The horse was…a lot bigger than regular horses.  In fact, it was positively enormous.  Oh well, if he broke a leg, he could fix it, right? He was Mr.  Indestructible. But his ego wouldn’t survive a fall in front of Heisenberg.  Just as he was about to launch into orbit anyway, Heisenberg held out a hand.  But he was smirking.  

Ethan was grinding his teeth.  Sometimes he found it easier to deal with the asshole who was willing to see if his heart would just stop working.  He begrudgingly took the assistance and tried to mimic Karl’s effortless slide off.  It mostly worked, and Ethan stumbled onto the rocky ground.  Karl led the horse over to a tree and tied the bridle; Ethan cocked an eyebrow.  That horse could just pull that tree up out of the ground, he mused.  

Before he could make a snide comment, Heisenberg had rounded on him, plucking the cigar from his mouth and tossing it on the ground in front of Ethan.  When he moved to crush the embers with his tanker boots, the abrupt stomp forward brought him directly into Ethan’s personal space.  Ethan drew back instinctively.  This only made Karl smile more.  

“Ready, Papa?”

Ethan chuffed, staring at the bonfire and the men nearby.  “How…should we…”

“I think,” Karl interrupted, happy to give input, “We should get that--” he poked Ethan’s chest with one finger, “outta you first.  If bein’ the Anchor is work for you, that means, this is gonna hurt.  You get a discharge like that again an’ its comin’ out anyway.”  Karl tilted his face, which was now maybe a foot from Ethan’s.  When he spoke, Ethan could see Heisenberg’s breath.  He was like a fucking steam locomotive.  

“An’ I don’t feel like draggin’ you down to the basement to….” Karl’s eyes dragged downward, and then back up to meet Ethan’s.  “Open you up.  Again.” 

“Is that right,” Ethan said tightly.  He was half flattered, half angered.  How could Heisenberg flirt after literally dragging Ethan back to life without permission? He closed the distance, his expression just as resolute and angry as it had been in the factory.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you enjoyed it, and were eager to do it again.” 

Karl’s scarred lips twitched, and just as Ethan prepared for another verbal shouting match, Karl chuckled, then laughed so loud the men looked over, and the horse’s ears perked up.  When the apparent hilarity of the moment had passed and Ethan was still glaring, Karl again met his eyes and bit down on his lower lip.  When he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly, so much so that Ethan almost didn’t react to the last word.  

“You watch yourself, Buttercup.” 

BUTTERCUP? 

Ethan’s ears had to be glowing as brightly as the cigar embers.  He sputtered, didn’t reply, and just glared daggers as a response until Karl stepped back and planted the hammer on the ground.  The engineer was still brimming with mirth.  Ethan exhaled, breath fogging around him, then shook his head.  

“How do I do this.  I don’t know what to do.”  

Karl stroked his beard.  “I don’t have much uh, experience.  As some others.  But do it in the…” hand gesture, “Other place.  That bitch could do it just by...she just automatically would do it.  Heal herself.”  Was he referring to Miranda?  It could also be Lady Dimitrescu.  Ethan thought of the latter’s claws, slicing toward him.  He nodded slowly. 

Just as he prepared to move, Karl cleared his throat.  “Ethan.  If you’re…doin’ anything like that, an’ it…let’s say, attracts.  Somebody.”  Miranda.  “Come back.”

“I won’t linger,” Ethan agreed.  He didn’t know how to fight Miranda, felt like he was on day one of getting his sea legs, so to speak.  But he also would love to rip her head off her body, here or there or anywhere, so he appreciated the reality check.  

He closed his eyes, and exhaled.  Liminal space, he echoed to himself. 

When he opened his eyes, Karl and everyone else was gone.  He was on the edge of the angry scar.  Ethan took several breaths, and brought the mangled hand up to his face.  For several moments, he just looked at it.  Nothing.  

“You’re NOT EVEN TRYING,” came a voice, and he lowered his hand.  She was there.  Perched, standing angrily on a hilltop, glaring down at Ethan as though he were rotten.  

He’d known Eveline was here.  It was always a matter of time.  She invaded every dream, played his life and choices back for him, taunting him about his stupidity every step of the way.  He was never able to talk back when he was asleep, but now Ethan gestured at her with the hand.  

“Show me then,” he asked simply, baiting her with his nonchalance, and Eveline paused at this.  Black hair spilled over her face, hiding her expression.  He remembered what she’d said when he injected her with the serum.

WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE ME.  

The recollection of this seemed to happen in Eveline’s consciousness as well. She paused, startled, and gazed at Ethan carefully.  

“You DO hate me,” she said ruefully, as if he’d tried to claim he didn’t.  “Why should I tell you ANYTHING?”

“Fine,” Ethan said, his tone just as dismissive as the girl’s.  “I’ll do it myself.”

Somehow, this tactic worked wonders to aggravate the child. She paced as he lifted his hand again.  Eveline sputtered, and then in an even more indignant voice said, “You are HERE, now you have to connect with it, DUHHH! You have to TELL it to GROW.  You ARE DUMB!” 

Ethan’s eyes glanced upward at her for a moment, and then he focused on the fingers again.  He had seen far too many creatures grow from the Mold, it should have been second nature.  Just when he was about to give up and ask Eveline to be more precise, Ethan felt his hand grow warm, then hot.  The same tugging, reaching feeling.  He flexed the remaining fingers.  That’s it, he thought.  Just like stretching, pulling a muscle.  Except it was…creation.  In a way. 

Black cascaded from the severed digits, looking like wet sludge, then whitening, drying.  Ethan quickly put his right hand up almost as if it were a reference.  He stared at both hands, and the left fingers quickly shaped, adjusting.  It burned.  And then he turned his hands over, seeing them in the liminal place’s red moonlight.  His hands.  

Healed.  

Ethan couldn’t see that directly in front of him, between he and Eveline, Karl stood, watching the man’s pale hands as he turned them over in the paler moonlight.  Karl gazed in awe.  “Holy shit,” he said quietly.  

From the ledge, Eveline beamed.  “You’re still REALLY DUMB, you know.” 

“I know,” Ethan exhaled.  He closed his eyes.  Home.

The first sight he saw when he opened them was Karl, a stunned look on his face.  This time the man couldn’t hold back his excitement, and he really did leap forward and clap Winters on the back, nearly shaking him off the ledge and speaking half in German as he congratulated Ethan.  Ethan couldn’t help but smile stupidly, mostly with relief.  

When Heisenberg stepped back, still clearly containing his joy, Ethan put his hands up, enjoying the feeling.  “I don’t think we can celebrate until I’ve done the hard part.”

Karl’s head nodded so furiously it looked like it might pop off.  “Right.  No celebrating yet.  Do it, Papa.  You say when--” he brandished a gloved hand, “I’ll put it right out.” 

What could go wrong?