#wrapping it up before i go through nic poisoning

[themarissaharrison]

Ashes to Ashes | Self Para

mentions: @nsloanefms / delilah daniels trigger warning(s): fire / loss / drinking

The nights alone were always the worst. She was glad, happy even, that Nicola was finally doing what made her heart happy - what fired up her passion and sense of self, of duty. But the days when she would have to work late, into the night, through the night... They were hard. Lonely. Right now? Scary. She kept those feelings to herself, as much as she could, because she didn’t want to worry the older woman. Nic hadn’t been taking everything going on too well, blame and guilt flooding her system after promising Viv lessons, and never being able to deliver them. The feeling that she couldn’t escape the dark, poisonous clutches of death - that she was cursed with losing everyone that meant anything... And though she never said it, she knew fear sat heavily on Nicola’s chest. She knew the thought of the killer seperating them forever ran through her mind frequently... She knew because the same thought ran through her own. She knew because it was what was on her mind right now as she sat out on the balcony, eyes on the stars, knees pulled into chest and cardigan wrapped around like a warm hug.

“At the end of the day, I will always come home to you.” 

Marissa was a pessimist at best, and a self destructive hurricane at worst. So, naturally, those words that Nicola had once said to her circulated her mind in doubt, not comfort. At this point, what would she do if that promise was broken? She had promised herself that she would never get into this situation again - that she wouldn’t put her heart, her soul, her sanity in the palm of someone else’s hand. Yet, here she was. Her life, in the space of just a few months, for better or worse, now started and stopped with the firefighter. She loved her more than she had the words to express, unable to go much longer than a few hours without the other brushing past her thoughts, often bringing a gentle smile to her features.

As she looked up into the sky, her mind moved to the last person who made her feel like this - to Delilah. Her heart sank as she thought about the blonde, as she tried her best to recall the way she used to smile and laugh but could barely hear it properly anymore, as if the laugh was coming from behind closed doors - distant, dampened. 

“I’m not leaving this time, I promise.”

That was one of the last things Delilah had said to her before leaving for good. The similarity to Nicola’s promise was eery, making it difficult to not necessarily not trust Nic’s word, but to believe the universe will allow the promise to be kept. She wondered whether Delilah was up there somewhere in the stars, looking over her, bullying the universe into finally giving her a break. Riss sighed, reaching down beside the chair and picking up the glass of wine, bringing it to her lips for a drink. She’d been doing a lot more of that lately - suppressing everything with alcohol. It was easier that way.

She didn’t know how much time passed by as she sat there drinking, thinking. She didn’t know at what point she spaced out from reality, but she clearly did. Sirens brought her back, the sound of fire engines rushing past and, for some reason, she knew... She knew where they were headed. She stumbled to bring herself to a stand, red wine knocked over, spilling out onto the white fabric on the chair. Riss didn’t notice. She was already inside, feet slamming into boots, arms pushing into coat, hands grabbing keys. She rushed out the backdoor and onto the beach. And that’s when she saw it. 

The flames soared up into the night sky, the dark water reflecting the amber blaze. Her home, alight. Before she even knew what she was doing, she was running. Sand kicked up behind her, as she got closer and closer to the inferno. She fell a few times, a mixture of the darkness obsuring objects in the sand and the two bottles of wine she’d already drank tonight. But she kept pulling herself up and she kept running until she arrived on her strip of the beach, and as if perfectly timed, the moment she took a step towards her home, the pressure inside smashed through the bottom floor windows, glass shattering and flames poured out and rolled upwards to the night sky. It was too late. Her home was gone. Everything she had held dear... The last things she had of Delilah’s... Gone. She had moved in with Nic a week or so ago, but she’d decided to keep most of her belongings here... They were supposed to be save.

Marissa fell to her knees, chest heavily rising and falling as tears streamed down her cheeks. She screamed. It was the type of scream that would pierce the ears of anyone around to hear it, the type that one only makes when their entire world is collapsing in on itself. Hands gripped her own shirt as she felt a thousand knives lodge into her heart, as the weight of a million losses tied itself around it and pulled it into the ground. Everything was gone. Delilah was gone.

Crippled over, Riss struggled to catch a breath as tears poured out onto the sand. Little did she know, just a few hundred meters in front of her, Nicola was also struggling to breathe. Little did she know, the fire didn’t threaten to just take the reminiscence of her old lover, but the life of her current. It was probably best she didn’t know what was really happening inside, that she couldn’t hear the calls to Nicola from the other firefighters. If she knew, if she’d heard the firefighters calls, she wouldn’t have thought twice about walking into the flames. But she didn’t know. 

And she didn’t know how long she stayed there on her knees, watching her life burn away, before someone found her. But at some point, a blanket was draped over her shoulders. But at some point, the arms of another wrapped around her. But at some point, a voice told her it was going to be okay. 

But nothing was okay, and nothing was ever going to be okay again. Everything was gone.

[csjana]

16.12.22

1st and 2nd day of my study camp for finals went pretty productive!

This is the third day but unfortunately my classes end really late today. If i can make it to home and get myself together hopefully i will reach todays goal too.

When I spend the whole day at school Im feeling like I spend the day at an adult daycare idk why but its not funny. Im really tired and what for?

[space-whalesharks]

... 𝓕𝓸𝓻 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓻 𝓕𝓸𝓻 𝓑𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻

Grant and Matthew head to John’s house for Nic’s Valentine’s Party, and to share their big news. Considering their dating history, they’re less than sure it’ll go smootly.  Grant Lyons/Matthew Rook, John Seed/Nic Raylan

| Pt 1 by @amistrio​ | Pt 2:

Grant Lyons stared at the double doors of John’s ranch. He and Matthew Rook had rang the doorbell nearly five minutes before, and considering it was mid-February in goddamn Montana, they were close to freezing due to the delay. And the elephant in the room - er, entryway, was getting heavier and heavier. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t a secret, he just wanted to let his best friend know that he was going to be a married man soon, and for once, the excitement was killing him.  He sighed and knocked on the door again. “I know it’s Valentine’s, but y’all better not be fuckin’ in there considering you two are the ones that planned this party and decided on this time!” he called. 

Matt glanced over at Grant. “... Considering we’re about a third of the police force altogether, if one of us gets murdered tonight do you think Whitehorse is gonna send someone to investigate?” 

“No one’s gonna get murdered.” 

“Are you sure? Because John-” 

“Is a relatively stable individual-” 

“Who’s about to have his current girlfriend and her best friend, who’s his ex, who’s dating his other ex, who just got engaged to said ex literally….” he checked his watch. “six hours ago,  all under the same roof,” Matthew cut him off. “Hope County is too damn small.” 

“I think that’s the hunger talking.” 

“And the cold. And the excitement. But seriously, it’s too damn small. Everybody knows everybody. Who thought living like that would be okay?” 

“Hey, you chose to stay here when Earl offered you a permanent spot.” 

“I was motivated,” Matthew protested, though there was a teasing lit to his tone, and he grinned at Grant knowingly. 

Grant paused, then smirked.  “That’s really gay.” 

“Yeah? Well…” Matthew leaned into him and Grant moved to meet him halfway - but naturally, that was right when the door opened. 

Nicolette Raylan was on the other side, and she blanched upon seeing what she had interrupted. It didn’t last long. A moment later, a grin split her face. “Wow, that’s-”

“Grant already made the joke, don’t you dare,” Matthew cut her off before she could continue. 

She didn’t miss a beat and immediately pulled him into a bear hug that he returned full force. She tossed an arm around Grant’s neck to pull him into it a moment later. “Hi! You guys are finally here! I missed you!” 

“You saw us literally two days ago,” Grant pointed out. 

“And I still missed you. Get in here.” She waved them inside, and they followed.  

The great room was decked out in all pink, red and silver decor. There were streamers and balloons everywhere, there were streamers on the stuffed animal’s heads, the dining room table had a glitzed out runner with a bunch of plates on it, as did the coffee table, and the railing of the stairs leading to the hangar was wrapped in ribbon. 

It had been the most ‘Nic’s influence’ thing they had ever seen in anything that belonged to John. Leave it to her to go all out when it was just going to be the four of them hanging out. Still, there was a strange charm to it all. 

Nicolette didn’t let them take in the sight for long. She ushered them over to the dining room table where a bunch of food was laid out- different bread, cold cuts, heart-shaped baked goods that were decorated to the nines- Nic had clearly spared no expense in any of it. Grant took a sandwich and a couple of cookies, and Matt piled on every single dessert option onto his plate. When Grant offered him a skeptical smile, he shrugged. “What? We ate lunch already, and Nic worked hard on these, I’m partaking.”

“I meant save some for the rest of us, I mean damn,” Grant teased. He went for one of the brownies on Matthew’s plate.

Matthew stabbed his hand lightly with his fork in retaliation. “There are like twenty more, get your own!” he countered before he crossed back to the couch and sat down. 

Grant did as Matthew requested then sat beside him. 

Nicolette came back over to the pair of them. She gave Grant a glass of whiskey and a bottle of coke to Matthew, then sat in the chair adjacent to them. 

“Where the Hell’s John?” Grant asked. 

Nicolette checked her watch. “Should be back any minute. Had some legal trouble. Apparently, Larry’s threatening legal action against the Ryes because Carmina’s contrails are chemtrails and they’re trying to poison the county or something. He’s apparently trespassing on their property and trying to fiddle with the plane so John’s getting paperwork ready to keep him off the property and such. Kim told me everything.”

“Fucking Larry,” Matthew sighed, and the other two hummed in agreement. 

They made small talk after that, catching up on cases, until the great room’s entryway doors opened up again.

John stepped through, and upon seeing the three of them smiling and laughing away. They all turned to look at him, and Grant and Matthew offered a quick wave and a “hi!” He looked back and forth between all of them, then sighed. “This… this is my nightmare. I’ve literally dreamt about this.” When Nicolette popped up from the couch to kiss him, he returned it, though still looked like he was in pain. 

Grant scoffed. “Why? We’re all friends, it’s not like we’re killing each other. Or plotting to kill you.” 

“Yeah, well, your dream selves aren’t that civil,” John fired back. He huffed and dropped onto the couch. 

“Could be worse, could be comparing notes on how you are in bed,” Matthew pointed out. 

“You guys could, we didn’t get that far,” Grant cut in. 

Nicolette grinned behind her whiskey and coke. “And I already did that with Holly yesterday when we went to get coffee.” 

“You what?!” John demanded. 

Nicolette grinned. “All in good fun. She’s moved on, she’s with some Barry guy now. I mean, you are the most eligible bachelor in Hope County, you’ve dated what, half the people in the entire place from twenty-five to thirty-five?”

“You make it sound like there’s a support group for people who dated me,” John sighed. 

“Well…” Matt shrugged, then looked at the gathered crowd pointedly.  

John’s face fell, and Nicolette tutted and tucked her face into his neck. “You’re looking at it, you’re fine. It’s not like we’re much better.”

“Was I that bad?” John asked. When he was met by dead silence and the other three exchanging looks that were half apprehension, half conspiratorial, he scoffed. “Come on.” 

Nicolette laughed. “We’re not doing this on Valentine’s Day,” Nicolette objected. 

“Well, technically that only means you have to be nice,” Matthew clarified. 

“And you started it, so fine, let’s hear it,” John countered. 

Matthew sighed, realizing there was no way out of this, so he figured open the can of worms right quick, then weld it shut. He motioned at John. “You’re an overdramatic bitch. Nic can handle it because she’s also one.” He glanced her way, and then when she shrugged and nodded in agreement, he continued. “ I…could sort of deal with it,  but had my own shit to deal with, and-”

Grant reached over and squeezed Matthew’s knee pointedly. “You’ve got a lot of stuff that can’t go unchecked and needs a lot of attention, some people aren’t up for that,” he cut him off. “I mean Hell, same with me. I have… a lot of shit to work through, so do you. There’s nothing wrong with that, but everybody deals differently. Hell, when we were a thing, same thing applied. I’ve had too much shit to work through to be there one hundred percent for you. There’s no shame in that, and it wouldn’t be fair to you to expect one hundred percent from me all the time,” he continued. “And then this one and that one came to town. Still had shit to deal with, but they deal better because there’s less to unpack, and they’ve got the personalities to take it head on. Listen, two majorly traumatic messes were doomed to fail. Put a less traumatized mess with each of them, you get this,” he motioned at himself and Matt, then at John and Nicolette. “Worked out just fine, didn’t it? Look at us now.”

John clenched his jaw but visibly considered the explanation, then Nic, the absolute hero that she was, lifted her glass to her mouth before firmly declaring, “Your mom’s a less traumatized mess.” 

Thankfully that got a laugh from all of them and diffused whatever remaining tension there was. John, obviously the most bristled of the bunch, having realized that no, everybody’s grievances weren’t going to be aired and had been stuck into a relatively reasonable statement, turned to Nicolette with what had been said in mind. “I suppose it did.” When she squinted at him in return, he leaned forward to kiss her. 

When it turned into two kisses, then three, then on, and what the other two thought was probably tongue getting involved, they simultaneously gagged overdramatically. 

“Payback for earlier,” Nicolette countered between kisses. 

“Oh, Hell no. We didn’t even make contact before. If anything, we need some payback. So,” he grabbed Grant, who had been snickering at the whole thing and yanked him forward into a kiss of their own - and maneuvered so he could toss his leg over Grant’s knees and scoot closer. 

Matt was absolutely elated when Grant let out an exaggerated moan to boot to go along with it. 

The other two finally broke apart. 

“Oh, thank God, we were gonna have to ask you guys to get a room so we could have this party alone,” Matthew pointed out. 

“It’s my house,” John protested. “Get your own damn room, you were further ahead than we were.” 

“Yeah, where’s the fun in going as slow as you two? You don’t wanna drag the stuff out that much,” Matthew countered. 

Nicolette laughed. “Oh, honey, it’s the other way around, do you really wanna ‘wham, bam thank you Man’ Grant after all he does for you?” 

“I don’t have a single complaint, actually,” Grant cut in. 

Matthew beamed, then flipped off Nicolette- and then stopped short when her answering grin dropped and her eyes went wide. Oh, right, the Elephant in the room. 

Nicolette launched herself across the table so quickly even John looked panicked for a moment. He landed haphazardly on their entwined legs, and Grant scrambled to keep her upright when she nearly fell off the couch. She paid the fumble no mind. She grabbed Matt’s hand and held it up in order to look at the bright gold band that had found a home on Matthew’s ring finger. She gasped, then beamed and turned to Grant, then immediately punched him in the chest. “You ass! You told me you were gonna tell me before you did it so I could get pictures!” 

“I - it was an in the moment thing, there was next to no planning,” Grant protested. 

Nicolette squinted at him. “Liar. You just didn’t want an audience.” 

His response was immediate... and devoid of regret: “I didn’t want an audience.”

She squinted at him, then scooted back so she slipped off of their legs and onto the empty part of the couch before she threw her arms around Matt and kicked excitedly. “I’m so happy for you guys, it’s about time!”  She squeezed him harder. “Welcome to the family!” 

Matt hugged her back. “Thank you, thank you.” She turned back around. “John! Say something!” 

Grant waved his hand dismissively. “Leave him alone, this is probably super weird. We wanted to wait til things slowed down or  Nic got sleepy and quiet before we told you guys,” he explained. 

“No, it’s…” John sighed. “It’s fine, truly. Congratulations, and if you’d like, you’re welcome to use this place as a venue. As for why I got quiet there,  well… why don’t you ask Nicolette why she’s wearing the only shirt she has that covers her collarbone?” 

Matthew and Grant exchanged puzzled looks, then frowned at the woman herself, who grinned after a moment. 

“Not to step on your moment, buuuut…” she reached down to take the necklace she had tucked into her shirt. Usually, it had the silver Rook chesspiece Earl had given her a few years back, the silver key ‘to John’s heart’ that he’d given her on their one year anniversary, but now there was a ring hanging between the two charms. 

Grant looked from it, to her, to John with another grin forming on his lips. “You too?” 

John shrugged. “First thing this morning. Must have been something in the air.” 

“Congratulations,” Grant replied. “Both of you.” He laughed when Nicolette threw her arms around him again. He took another look at the ring. “That is a big rock.” 

“Well, when your house is this big you can afford all that,” Matthew pointed out. 

“Stop it,” Nicolette smacked him lightly, then immediately beamed and bounced in place again. “You know what this means, right?” 

“We’re gonna get shown up announcing our engagement by you guys announcing it too anywhere we go?” Grant asked, then laughed when Nicolette smacked him. 

“No. We’ll stay quiet for a while. Promise. Anyway: Double. Wedding,” Nicolette cut him off from further protest. 

“Hell no!” Matthew called. “That’s our day. Again, I’m not getting shown up on our own damn day.”

“What, afraid I’m gonna look better than you?”  she challenged. 

Matthew promptly opened and shut his mouth a couple of times, then took a decidedly long drink of his coke. 

Nicolette sighed dramatically, then leaned against him. “Fine. No double wedding…” she began and offered Grant a conspiratorial wink, to which he put his hands up at. “But promise me I can at least plan most of yours for you.” 

“Not all of it,” Grant cut in. 

She shrugged. “Suits at least. And color scheme. I’m not letting you guys have a wedding that’s as much of a design disaster as you two are.” 

Matthew went to protest again, and when he heard John laugh and then saw the man raise his eyebrows in agreement, he sighed. “Fine. Deal.” 

“And in case everything is booked up somehow, or my fiancee here claims it’s not good enough for you two, you’re welcome to this place for the service or reception,” John offered. “I mean, I could just help arrange it at Falls End church. Must look fabulous decorated for a wedding.” 

“Where would decor that would fit your guys’ standards fit in that place?” Grant asked. 

John shrugged. “Outside? Nice lattice, maybe get some doves, have ‘em fly everywhere.” He paused to consider. “Hell, crows could be a more fun contrast. Would fit you guys more.”

Grant laughed and shook his head. “Sounds like a chintzy disaster. No thank you.” 

John shrugged. “Fair enough. Again, if you’d like my house, it’s open to you.”

Matt looked around. “We might take you up on that, on second thought. Grant’s uncles would lose their damn minds over this place.” 

“It’s… not gonna be too awkward for you?” Grant asked. “I mean we made the joke about this party being your two exes who are dating and your current girlfriend, but hosting our wedding’s another story.” 

John scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. “Contrary to… apparent popular belief,  I can handle seeing my exes happy- and judging by how this is going, in the same room. It’s not bad at all, so repeating it will be fine. Despite my apprehension and what I said earlier,  you’re two of my dearest exes, so I’d still like to do right by you.” 

Grant smiled softly. “That’s mighty kind.” 

Matthew nodded in agreement. 

“Well, you’re both worth it. Even when you take pride in insulting me,” John answered. 

“We love you too,” Matthew replied. 

Nicolette looked between them all, then reached over in order to clap Grant and John on the knees. “Look at this, my boys, we’re all gonna be married soon. Oooooh, what if we did a honeymoon together? That would be okay, right?” 

“Whitehorse would kill us,” Matthew pointed out. “We already did that joint vacation.”

“Nope, he’s caught in a checkmate because he’s gonna walk me down the aisle. He’s gonna be too giddy to say no to anything for at least a year after that,” Nicolette pointed out. She looked between them. “Pllleeeeeeeeaaaaaaasssssee?” she stuck out her bottom lip.

Grant looked at Matthew, who put his hands up. He made a mental note to stop doing that so Matthew would stop getting it from him. He sighed. “We’ll think about it. That work for you?” 

“Yes!” Nicolette flicked his nose, then stood in order to go sit in John’s lap. She reached back and got her own nearly forgotten plate of food and held it so both of them could pick at it. 

Grant rolled his eyes, then looked towards his boyfriend- fiance, now, he corrected, and the thought made his chest flutter- and raised an eyebrow. 

“No, fuck you, this is still my junk food,” Matthew objected playfully. It took him all of ten seconds to relent and feed him one of the brownies. When Nicolette ‘aww’ed in response, he threw the piece that Grant had missed at her, then went back to eating.

Grant laughed too, then took Matthew’s distraction as an opportunity to simply watch him. He was happy, relaxed- something either of them didn’t get to feel often. He looked at the other two. Nicolette was always outgoing, always recharged by people around her being equally happy, but even John looked more at ease than he had seen him before. Whatever apprehension about having exes and his current love under the same roof had already ebbed away from the good news and energy in the place. It was… beyond nice. He still couldn’t believe it. Four souls in varying states of being lost had found each other, then love had gone and paired them off, but here they were, still strong as a unit- a family in its own right. And he had never felt so at home in his life, just sitting in their company as they chatted away. It was going to be an interesting, exhausting few months or years, however long they picked until the wedding, but with them, he could handle anything- and he’d love every minute. 

[omaticwriting]

Adventurer’s puppeteer

Nicolas walked cautiously into the cavern systems. Cobwebs and the odd smell of blood filled the cave's interior. If it weren't for his localized omniscience, he would have been forever lost in the endless twisting caverns of the spider's lair.

And yet something felt wrong with the entire place. It lacked their constant presence, let alone their voice constantly degrading his mentality in an petulant attempt of pity, but it was dark and lacked any sort of life (not like there was any to begin with). It didn’t really bring him any sense of his goal getting closer.

-Where is that spindly bastard?- Nicolas thought, his fury not yet fully leaving him. It felt odd seeing no sign of the spider yet. Entering a large cavern, a sudden chill crept up his back, the sound of rivers and drips of fluid echoed through the system, the dark didn’t help much either.

“Hiya nic~~~~” someone or something said in a familiar but unsettling voice. It was distorted with each tone echoing through the cavern walls. Making it all the more confusing as to where it came from. And whatever hints of familiarity were in it lacked the life it normally had. Its innocence seemed poisoned by the insidious, and too familiar venom of a certain arachnid.

“Is that…?” Nicolas quickly dismissed the thought, shaking his head in hopes that it could so easily be thrown away “No, it shouldn't be. I saw his body.” Nicolas mentally assured himself. But his hesitance was paid with a recognizable silken thread wrapping around his eye, crushing it in an unceremonious splat.

Nicolas cried in pain as what remained of his eye is pulled right from the socket. Blood pooled over the cavern floor as the room glowed a spiteful violet.

The cavern was much more massive than he expected. Bodies of all manner of forms dangled from the ceiling; their necks were wrung dry with thin threads, and their bodies still dripped with blood. However, it was the least of Nic’s worries for now, for across the massive expanse stood a familiar young figure, instead his corpse.

However, it was the least of Nic’s worries for now. Across the massive expanse stood a familiar [word you used to describe Daniel]; or, rather, his corpse.

He was pale, yet barely decomposed. Strings suspended the child’s mutilated body while blood dripped out from his hollowed sockets,onto his shirt, then down to the floor,His thin smile showed his jagged teeth much like a rusted zipper being pried open, an ominous glow coming from within sockets gave Nic the impression that some force of evil took away their innocence and tainted it to become its tool.

“Missed me?” He – no, it spoke, its steps cracking with the sound of shattering glass,as bones jutted out from the skin of its legs and feet. Nicolas felt his fury grow more for the sheer amount of debauchery and defilement he has to just witness, to his friend’s body, and for the spider forcing him to kill what amounted to his closest friend he had. A bead of sweat dropped from his face as it spoke once more. Its speech bastardized what he would normally say, what was once so full of joy, now nothing but a revolting threat. Its pose bent in odd angles no human child should be capable of achieving, yet showed an unsettling, elegant showmanship as gray and violet strings grew from its fingertips.

“Let's go on an adventure Nic! It will only cost your life~”

The battle begins.

The corpse wasted no time sending strings towards Nic, giving him no reaction time to dodge or to block. “C-Crap!” He mentally panicked. Hesitantly slashing around wildly as rows of flames sped through the air, he knew he can't risk hurting his friend, even if they’re naught but a bastardized version. Still, he had nearly no effect to the threads here, unlike threads of battles he’s encountered before on his initial meeting with the spider.

Piercing his chest, Nic cried in pain as the thread cut through his flesh and wrapped around his bones. The corpse yanked out the threads that found purchase with inhuman speed, their arms leaking a black ichor as Nic cried more in agony. The strings cut away his bones, and thereafter extracted his ribs.

A sadistic smile grew on the defiled corpse's face, enjoying the agonyNicolas found himself in.

Nicolas wheezed in each his breaths as his own blood escaped his body, soaking into his shirt and hoodie. “Come on Nic!~~~ It’s not fun when I’m the only one playing!!!” The corpse taunted, wanting him to act as he bled out.

Nicolas was naught but a scrambled mental mess as conflict raged inside his mind. He couldn’t bring himself to kill his friend – not again – and yet he had to protect himself and defeat the bastardized being that dwelled from within his friend.

He knew the strings were an obvious weak point, yet he couldn't safely close the gap as strings flew in his direction. Taking a deep breath, his arm and hand turned jet black as each of his fingers turned into dark claws. He began his turn to turn the tides.

The corpse looked down at Nic without much concern. Its strings began to close the gap on Nic; but, before It could anticipate Its target’s next action Nicolas caught the threads. Refusing to release the strings, Nicolas pulled slowly. He was hesitant to end the battle, but it had to be done.

Realizing what he was doing, it pulled back, knowing that if it could just trip him off-balance, it could finally finish him off. But, with each inch bringing the corpse closer to Nic, it began to pull back more desperately, almosting bringing pity out of Nic.

Almost.

Eventually, Nic’s burning claws took hold of the corpse’s hands.

“I’m sorry” he whispered “but never again”. With an overhead swing, every string was swiftly severed. Now, with the corpse now powerless, it falls unceremoniously to the floor.

“Sorry, Daniel, but never again.” Remorse filled his words, a cathartic smile grew thinly on his face. With a sharp exhale, he set the body ablaze, hoping now that it would never be used again.

With claws on his chest and over his plucked eye, a brownish outline glowed around the edges of his body. His remaining eye turned a pitch black, while his iris glowed a bright lavender. Multiple Icons of eyes opened around him, then he continued to move on forward with his mission.

His fury for the spider now roared with a raging inferno that could out burn the underworld itself.

[maggie-thornecliff]

The Bitter Farewell

The ursine figure adorned in black leathers and a surly glower quite deliberately unfastened each buckle on his sword belt, scabbard and rucksack, catching at the weapons and laying them over the bag. "Tha's it, s'all Oi got ye feckers. Now, can Oi 'ave a bit' wit' moi Sis'er, or can Oi 'ave a bit' wit' moi feckin' Sis'er?"

The Royal Knights offered dark looks and sour expressions in return with the snooty one piping up. "Got any magical items on you?"

Rolling his eyes, Nic spreads his arms out wide to reveal he'd the spiked bracers; flipping the snaps on them and allowing them to fall before responding. "Jes' me invisible ca'. Roigh' now 'e's pawin' 'alf way up yer rectum in search o' some bloody grey matt'er."

A more indignant Knight gestures to Nic. "We don't have to let him in, do we?"

Nic jabs his thumb toward the rucksack. "You wan' ta argue wit' tha' whatchamacall't 'Envoy' abou' whoi Oi can' see moi Sis'er th' feckin' noigh' b'fore she's suppose' ta be put down loike th' dog ya are, go roigh' tha fuck on. Don' think fer a momen', Oi won' 'ave yer arse pulled roigh' ou' o' yer cozy feckin' bed ta unlock this feckin' door when we're Loigh' damned done, ya cunt."

Dame Madigan Thornecliff had shown up in a sundress and a little over-jacket, a sturdy pair of shoes, and purse containing little else than some spare change and a key. The only oddity of her normally demure public face was the complete lack of makeup, and the many fine scars about what skin of hers was bared being on full display.

She hid them less and less, as time went on. She stepped up near Nic, side-eyeing the tail end of the affair with a mostly-still-sort-of-poorly hidden smirk. With one hand, she offered her purse without being prompted, to the guards.

Not so much cowed as helpless to argue the ursine man's position, the guards turn a somewhat relieved eye to the approaching woman. "Name? Do you have the Envoy's Letter, or a Writ approving you entry to the Cell, Miss?"

She paused, worried for a moment that she'd forgot it, but she pulled it out from under her shirt without the slightest shred of shame. The letter she'd been sent regarding the request to see her. She offered a smile of not-really-apology, and offered it in turn.

"Dame Madigan Thornecliff. Do believe I'm expected."

The men and women - half in Royal Stormwindian armor, half in Royal Gilnean - offered a measuring look to the little woman. The Stormwindians seemed dubious of such a fragile seeming Knight, but the scars she bore told a different tale. as one of them reviewed the missive, another - female - Knight patted Maggie down in search of even minor contraband, even running their fingers along her hair to confirm she hadn't hidden anything like poison or weapons on her person.

Behind them, leaned up against the door as he waits for it to be unlocked, Nic calls out, "Mates, th' only feckin' reason she's 'ere, is she's decoided ta let ya martyr 'er in th' name o' peaceful discourse an' fair play. If she said word one ta anyone abou' wan'in' ou' o' yer fancy feckin' tower, we'd all be 'avin' tea somewhere ya ain' never 'eard of. Now, can we git feckin' on wit' this shite?"

"Did you just threaten to aid and abet the prisoner's escape." The Knight who spoke clearly had not one damned clue who the fuck he was talking to. The ursine man seemed unwilling to to inform him. "Oi said she wouldn' be 'ere. Oi didn' say Oi'd 'ave a 'and in it. Now, open this feckin' door, or Oi'll star' callin' on some folks tha'll put foire in yer King's arse abou' yer yammerin' an' bullshit ya caustic cunts."

Eyes narrowed, the Stormwindian Knights each draw their swords moving back to approach Nicosa with genuine offense and anger in their eyes. "You're coming with us."

Unphased by the overt threat, Nic simply shook his head, tapping on the door with his index finger. "Oi'm goin' in 'ere, an' Oi'm 'earin' moi Sis'er's foinal words. Now, Oi can do tha' peaceful loike, or Oi can be a dick. Oi guaran-feckin'-tee all o' ya roigh' 'ere an now - someone'll eventually take me down, bu' it won' be any o' you, an' yer fam'lies are gonna 'ave ta learn 'ow ta live wit' out ya if ya don' open this Loigh' damned feckin' door!"

Maggie slid gently into place between Nic and the armed guards, hands spread in a gentle supplication. She seemed calm, and serious, attempting to project that calmness to the men who thought it their place to interfere. Nevermind that beneath the veneer, she was fully prepared to peel them all like rotten cabbages and boil them.

"I beg of you, allow th'man 'is anger, grief. It's no' e'ery day a sod says goodbye to a little sister, aye?" The gilnean accent slipped through, the more polished speech from before faded away in the heat of the moment. She looked between the two stormwindians, beseechingly.

None of the Gilneans seemed remotely phased by the man's conduct and, despite the King's disposition toward the prisoner, they'd no intention of adding kerosene to the potential inferno brewing in the North. The female Gilnean stepped up passed her two countrymen to unlock the door; waving their invitations. "We've got your names and mail drops. Anythin' 'appens in there, we'll find ya. Remember tha', th' both of ya." She replies as the key turns in the lock and it's held ajar for the two to enter.

Looking passed the door, Nic and Maggie are treated to the sight of Lochlyn burrowed deep beneath the tousled blankets of a mattress fully capable of supporting two full-fledged Worgen; though she'd quite purposefully set herself along the left side. The moment Madigan is through the opening, Nic follows suit and slams the door shut behind him. "Oi! No more lollygaggin', Missus. S'toime ta git up an' give a fuck're two, ya?" 

The slamming door nearly leapt the amazonian woman from the bedsheets; Lochlyn half-stumbling as her eyes fluttered in surprise and her feet tangled in the sheet as they struck the floor. Had it not been for the poster bed, she may have toppled over entirely. "Nicosa! Madigan!" Each name is uttered in reverent relief. "You're here!" she adds sobbing and dropping to her knees.

Madigan took a heartbeat to attempt to determine how to proceed, whether to hang back for the sake of family, or dig right in as well. She seemed to have settled on the second, gliding quickly over towards Lochlyn and more or less flumping down onto her knees next to her. Sitting on the floor for such a talk was really not the weirdest thing she'd done this week.

She held out one scarred hand, nodding and glancing to Nic, before looking back to Lochlyn. "Wosen' goin' t'leave you wonderin', woz I. 'm here."

Nic's first deed of the night was to pull the wash basin in front of the door and flip off the guards on the opposite side. "Interrupt tha', ya pricks." He grouses tersely before strutting meaningfully across the room to pull Lochlyn across his lap as he sat; leaving space for Maggie to remain close and in contact with her as he wrapped her up in a bear hug. "Oi go' Eido jes' itchin' on th' other soide o' tha' door, an' 'e Says Teren's inna Keep roigh' now. Say th' word, an yer ou' o' this shite in seconds." he offers in a gruff, raspy voice. "Le's give these' cunts a pound o' flesh from sommat tha' actually feckin' deserves it, eh?"

There was such a weariness, a grief chained down by at least her own muddled understanding of the situation. Maggie murmured softly, rubbing a thumb across the backs of Lochlyn's knuckles. "Quite the torch to light. An' oi'd love you all the more fer it, an' wave it for all moi days."

But she was sort of sure what the answer was. Her smile was weary and rueful.

Lochlyn's heart broke at the offer and encouragement, bowing her head as she held tightly to both Nic and Maggie with her hands. She'd lost a great deal of weight, though she seemed to have become leaner and more muscular, not necessarily unhealthy. "I can't..." she whispers softly, her voice cracking. "I looked. Methuselah looked. There are tens - hundreds of thousands to save me - but... thousands more die in my place."

Unimpressed, Nic shakes his head. "Oi'll make sure thousan's o' these pricks doi fer hangin' ya - an' tha's low-ballin fer wot Teren'll do if ya le' this 'appen. Ya 'ave ta know tha'."

Nodding, the Paladin sighs, collapsing her weight against her older Brother. "Those... won't be Kidens..." She murmurs, as if that explained it all.

Maggie wilted a little, but she knew. She'd beseeched Lochlyn on the very same account, weeks ago, to no avail. She spoke so softly, but her words still seemed to have weight, purpose, structure.

"You told me a story, once. Of riding up to the Wall, and all those left abandoned on the same outside've it as you stood on. An' you helped, a'cos that's wo' you do. This's always been about yer people, from long a'fore you even came back from th'North. Still is. Aye?"

"Always," She rasps in her husky contralto. "Do you believe I am... so unwilling to surrender ground? I have taken the ground that Kiden is built upon from the hand of Greymane and the Forsaken and the Horde and everyone who ever thought to take it from me." She seemed genuinely angry, coming up from Nic's chest with her hands against his torso.

"I do not do this to give ground, but to save it. To protect our people. We are not done. I assure you, my death -- it is not the end of Kiden, or Unhu. It is merely the end of--" She shakes her head, her sapphire eyes dulling. "I've been dead for a year, my friend. I died in the Nether and this --" She looks over her hands and arms in denial. "--body... was constructed to house a damned and damaged soul. I am only pieces of the woman you knew. I don't know how to be her. I know how... how to honor her. I am doing with this life what I believe she would have done in my place; and putting to rest a spirit which should never have been pulled delivered from it's fate. That is the truth. That is... the deepest secret I hold. I'm a ghost trapped in a  living body."

The Knight nodded in quiet, awful understanding. There was such a burden of truth in those words, she could hear it, and she accepted them just as she'd accepted the promise that had been asked of her. It didn't stop the tears from falling down her face, flowing almost freely, as she looked between the two siblings. But she didn't interrupt.

"Tha's shite!" Nic replies, clasping his hands around the much narrow arms his Sister now bore. Sapphire burned into the Paladin's own crystalline gaze as he spoke softly. "Teren'll burn Azerot' ta feckin' ashes wit'out' you. Do you unnerstan'? He can still feel ya, na' tha's all Oi need ta know, ta know yer moi feckin' Sis'er. Oi don' care if yer a 'unnered percen', or one percen' o' 'er. Yer a Koiden, an' we love ya." the unequivocal anger as he reprimands her is menacing, despite the restraint he's using. "Now, if ya thin' blowin' tha' bullshite up me crack is gonna change moi moind abou' wether're no' ta snatch moi bow up an' lay these cunts ou', ya go' a hunner't other bits o' bad feckin' news 'eadin' yer way."

Bowing her head, Lochlyn begins sobbing quietly, whispering hoarsely as she rocks in Nic's arms. "I can't do this... I can't do this without you. Please... Please...!"

Maggie watched the two with the same quietness.. but it cracked. A facade, layers of control that she really didn't always want to keep control over. "Nic. You 'ave to, yeah? Help her save the lives of everyone who ma' 'ers to her. Including yerself. Myself. All of Kiden, an' those who've treated well by them."

She took a breath, sharp and short, color coming flush to her cheeks. Not a blush of embarrassment, no. The heat of blood fit to boil up. "Want t'start a war? Do it after. When there's not so many in the splatter-path. I'd join you, like as not."

Nic was in no finer a mood than the woman sat nearby as he fought his own internal instinct to protect his baby Sister. A slow trail of tears stream hotly down his cheeks as he pulls her tightly against his chest, pinning Lochlyn's face to his shoulder with one massive hand. "You're no' th' one losin' their baby Sis'er, ya don' git ta feckin' judge me!" the low menace in his voice as he clings to the Argent in his arms is all that restrains him for several minutes as the two Kiden's sob against each other.  Finally, however, the ursine man manages to rasp out the unanswered question between them. "Whoi am Oi 'ere, Loch? If ya don' wan' ou' o' this, wot d'ya need me for?"

Abruptly, the Duchess begins trembling violently, clinging to Nicosa as if she were about to disintegrate on the spot. Fighting for even one small breath, she manages to eke out a response. "They're-- they're gonna botch it, Nic. My hanging... to break everyone. Please... don't--"

"I'll clip tha' rope fas'er'n--"

"Not the rope.--" Lochlyn interjects, sniffling as she pulls away. "--Me."

The rapid blinking as icy shock washes over Nic is nothing compared to the speed with which he pushes Lochlyn to the floor, scrambling away from her and taking up the nearest waste basket to vacate the contents of his stomach in a lengthy series of retchings that leave him sweating and panting for breath.

The next thing Maggie really remembered was Nic finally catching his breath, or at least approaching a point where the flow of oxygen triumphed over shock-induced vomiting. She was in a daze, and she looked between them trying to puzzle out why.

It came back in a rush, the words that had caused her to miss seconds almost completely, and before it had even fully settled back into her mind, the words were out of her mouth. Ever Loyal, faithful, helpful. "I've a decent eye. If no one else can do it, I can, Lochl'n."

It took her a moment to realize the words that had come out of her mouth, and they horrified her. She clapped a hand over her own mouth.

Moving forward, Lochlyn wraps her arms tightly around Maggie, hugging her fiercely. "I love you. I love you so much more than we've ever spoken on. I'm so sorry." she whispers softly, shaking her head. "You'd die. Nic won't." She nods toward Nicosa. "Please... Please... I know what I'm asking for and --"

"Y'know  wot?" Nic finally manages to spit out the last of the bile on his tongue, rising from the bucket to his feet and glaring at Lochlyn. "Ya really did feckin' die tha' day. Oi'm no helpin' yer demonic arse with a feckin' thing!" The vitriol and pain reflecting in the ursine man's eyes as he moved to the door was thoroughly mirrored in the Duchesses as she watched him exit the tower with a thundering slam of the door.

"Niiiiic!!!" The scream dies on her tongue as she bows her head to Maggie's shoulder, sobbing and trembling in abject fear and misery. "Nic..." she whispers hoarsely, burying her face in the other woman's shoulder as heart-wrenching sounds reverberate through her.

She clung to Lochlyn, shaking as well. Gone was the strong knight, the veneer of calm. All that was left was Maggie, heartbroken. But she held onto Lochlyn, and kept her head on her shoulder, just as she herself pressed her face into the lean muscle of her friend's shoulder.

Eventually, she managed a breath that didn't quite shake, and she murmured. Only just loud enough to be heard. ".. Offer stands."

(( @nic-alatir Lochlyn Kiden ))

[goldensunflowers98]

Jailbird: Chapter Three

Sparrow’s POV

“Little birdie,” I hear a small whistle and a familiar voice call out in a sing song voice as I wash myself in the shower after breakfast. “Oh, little birdie.”

“Yes, Harold?” I sigh back as I place my two dollar body wash that I got from the commissary earlier - because I felt bad that I kept stealing Harry’s - beside me.

“Oh, that tone! It wounds me, little bird. It truly, truly does. Makes my chest ache a bit even. Although, it could be heart burn from the bacon I ate earlier but still, I’m hurt.” I shake my head at his dramatic, theatrical ways, closing my eyes as I try to soak up the last few moments of my lukewarm water that was curing my aching, tired bones.

“Is there something you need, Harry?” I deadpan as I start to wash my hair under the stream.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. Just the fact that we are supposed to be at our designated jobs in less than five minutes, but it’s fine. Even through if I get another shot, I’m going to be put in solitary for the rest of the week. Been there, done that. Scratched my name in the wall. And, sure, being alone and all sounds fun but it’s really, really fucking boring actually. And, then your mind starts playing tricks on you and all of a sudden, you’re paranoid that everyone is trying to kill you so you don’t eat for five days because you’re positive that those motherfuckers poisoned your food. Then, the dramatic asses send to medical where they shove a feeding tube down your throat, which really doesn’t feel to well on the ol’ esophagus at the end of the day. So, sure, take your time. Put in that extra leave in conditioner, but just know, you’re killing me here, little bird. Positively killing me.”

By the end of his rant, I was staring blankly at the ratty, off white shower curtain and blinking several times. Pulling the curtain back a bit, I slowly poke my head out and see him, freshly showered as well, sitting with his back against the wall as he stares at the ceiling outside the shower.

“Harry?” He hums in acknowledgment, turning his head to give me a lazy, dimpled smile. “Are you okay?” I ask seriously, making his grin widen slightly and sarcastically, his eyes sparkling.

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

Letting out a loud groan as I roll my eyes, I release the curtain once more and begin finishing washing my hair. “Just give me two more minutes!”

“Okay, Sparrow. But, just a little reminder. If I get sent to solitary, guess who doesn’t have a bodyguard or personal blanket for the rest of the week?” I could proactively hear the smirk in his voice.

At his words, my hand immediately turns off the shower and I’m reaching for my towel in record speed. Usain Bolt would be shocked if he saw me get dressed in that moment.

“Let’s go!” I shout as I hop out of the shower cubby and grab his hand, yanking him up as he grins.

“That’s my girl,” he throws his arm around my shoulders as I try not to flush at his comment. “Now lets go find out your job.”

“What is your daily job?” I ask him as we make our way down the long hallway where I could hear the loud, thunderous voices of men shoved in a tiny room.

“I work in the mechanic and electrical building. See that light bulb over there?” He points at a light fixture handing above us. “Changed it all by myself just yesterday,” he states proudly as I make an impressed expression, clapping proudly.

“Wow, a handyman. I’m impressed,” I laugh as he shrugs playfully cocky and full of himself - at least I think it was playful.

“I bet you are the eyes and ears of this place and know the ins and outs of everything. I wonder if they are aware that they literally handed the notorious Harry Styles, probably the most dangerous man in here, the job where he can easily break out at any time.” I state as we near the doors and I can’t help but notice as Harry’s face goes stoic before he smiles slightly. I can’t help but notice the dark glimmer in his eyes but I ignore it, because honestly I’m too afraid to ask.

“Name?” A deep, bored voice calls out suddenly, making me snap out of my confused trance. Looking down, I see a man sitting at a table with a stack of papers in front of him.

“Um, Sparrow. Sparrow Matthews. I’m here for my job,” I mumble awkwardly as Harry seems to be glaring the man down as if he just killed his parents in front of him.

“Ah, our one and only girl. You’re in the kitchen, of course. Where else would we put you?” The misogyny and sexism reeked off the man as he gave me the creepiest grin and wink after he finished his sentence. “And just so you know I like turkey, cheese, and a little mayo on my sandwich.”

With all the self control in my being, I somehow do not reel back and slap the taste out of his mouth but instead, I give him a bright, sarcastic smile and stare the middle aged man in the eyes as I say, “Sorry, sweetheart, I’m not your mother, but I’m sure when you go home to her tonight she’ll be happy to make you one.”

The man gapes at me wide eyed as I hear Harry behind me trying not to crack up. “I certainly do not live with my mother, young lady! I am a grown man!”

“Sure you don’t, sweetheart. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Anyway, off I go. Don’t want to be late. Bye, Harry! Bye, Mr…” I lean over and read his name tag as he looks like he’s about to have a coronary right then and there. “Mr. Billingsworth. Say hi to your mother for me!”

I could hear Harry’s cackle of a laugh as I proudly jog down the halls, passing a few guards that were standing around uncaringly before I make it to the mess hall.

Opening the doors, the cafeteria is empty and silent other than the quiet chatter of pans in the very back where the kitchen was located.

Walking to the back, I gently push open the swinging doors and peek inside. “Hello?” I call out only to see the one and only Janet pop up from behind a corner carrying a box of potatoes.

“Oh, hello, dearie! Are you my new help?” She asks as I nod before I rush over to help her carry the heavy load. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She sighs heavily after we place the box on the counter.

“Well I’m glad I finally have a girl around here to talk to! Marcus is a silent, angry bore most days so it’s pretty quiet around here,” she says as we begin walking towards another pair of doors, leading further back.

“Who’s Marcus?” I ask just as she swings the door open and I come face to face with a tall, brooding, tattoo covered, beautiful, dark skinned man who was slamming down a cleaver so hard onto a hunk of meat that I flinched every time it came down.

Oh, sweet Jesus. Is it possible to be terrified and aroused at the same time?

“That is Marcus. Marcus, say hi, honey!” Janet calls out, making the man slam his cleaver down once more before he looks up, making intense eye contact with me before he gives me a small head nod.

Swoon.

“I told you. Man of very few words,” Janet whispers in my ear as he turns back to his mutilating of, what I now see is, chicken cutlets.

“So is this everyone? Just the two of you were making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for all the inmates?” I ask in shock before Janet lets out a sigh and Marcus lets out a loud snort as his cleaver hits the metal table once more.

“Oh, no, dearie. We also have-”

“I’m here! Let the fun begin!” A loud, familiar, thickly accented voice laughs loudly as the door bursts open.

“Niall, you are late again. You better be happy they didn’t catch you this time,” Janet scolds as I turn and face the bright, blue eyed boy that was friends with Harry.

“Oh, it’s Harry’s little birdie! What’s up, Sparrow?” Niall smiles as I blush brightly, feeling a bit safer that people knew that Harry was watching over me.

“Maybe not everyone,” I think to myself as I earn a lingering, confusing glare from Marcus in the corner of the room.

It sends a shiver down my spine that Janet translates as me being cold. “You cold, dearie? C'mon, let’s head over to the ovens and warm you up. We are having chicken stew today. Niall, you too, son!”

As she drags me away, I can’t help but feel the intense stare on the back of my head, making me wonder what it is he has against Harry in the first place.

_______

After several hours of working, we are finally allowed our outside break where the three of us inmates start making our way to the courtyard after Janet releases us when the guard comes to collect us.

The walk is awkward with Marcus’ still lingering glare and Niall talking ninety to nothing the entire time before we finally make it to the courtyard.

The doors open and the warm sun felt amazing on my skin as I immediately start searching for Harry. A giant grin grows on my face as I see him alone in the far corner, his back against the fence with his face tilted up towards the warmth of the sun, eyes closed peacefully.

“Harry!” I shout out excitedly, earning a few stares as I start to jog over to him. Hearing my voice, his eyes open and a crooked, dimpled grin appears on his face as he sees me, but I can’t help but notice as it diminishes when he notices Marcus right behind me.

“Hey, little bird. How was work? Anyone bother you?” He asks as he wraps an arm around me possessively, glaring over my shoulder as Marcus walks over to a nearby table and sits down.

“It was good! Niall taught me how to make a shank and stab someone so that was cool!” I giggle as I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest, appreciating his coziness for a moment.

“That’s good. So no one else talked or bothered you?” His arm around me was tense and his tone scared me slightly as I looked up at him.

“Well Marcus doesn’t really talk much so it was just Niall and Miss. Janet mostly.” I say as he nods stiffly before its silent for a few moments.

“Promise me you won’t ever speak to him, okay?” He suddenly snaps making me look up confused, furrowing my brows.

“Who Niall? But I like Niall. He’s nic-”

“No, not Niall. Marcus. Don’t you ever talk to him and if you do, I better not catch you unless you want him dead. If he knows what’s good for him, he won’t talk to or touch anything of mine anyway. Not again.”

With wide eyes and his confusing warning in my head, I nod quickly and frightened, burying my face back into his warm chest. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can’t help but notice Marcus staring a hole through the two us but I quickly look away. I wonder why they hate each other so much?

[avrilsky]

one short sentence prompt: 18. I can't wait to hug you. b/c i'm a sucker for a good hug.

This was just gonna be a sappy one-shot about hugs but turned into one with father figure Nedley. There is Wayhaught hugs in here, don’t worry. It’s still pretty sappy. Thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy!

“I miss you.”

Nicole smiled, sitting down on the edge of the hotel bed and dropping her phone beside her after putting it on speaker.

Her and Sheriff Nedley were a few towns over talking with potential recruits set to graduate the academy in the next few weeks. None of them panned out, not that Nicole was really surprised. It wasn’t like the academy trained you for dealing with literal demons.

She had been excited to be included in recruiting more officers, to be included in helping shape the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department into the place she would one day be proud to run. Not that she wouldn’t be proud to be in charge of the department as is, she would just add more female officers.

Now she was more discourge than excited. She didn’t think they’d ever find anyone capable of dealing with all the strange and downright evil shit that went done in Purgatory but then again, Nedley had found her.

“I miss you too, Waverly.” Nicole bent down untieing the laces on her boots and kicking them off with a satisfied grunt. “I’ll be home tomorrow, baby.”

Home.

She wasn’t talking about her house or Purgatory in general. She wasn’t even talking about the homestead, where she spent most of her time since being attacked in her house by Widow Mercedes.

No, to her home was when she was wrapped in Waverly’s arms. It was sappy and maybe cliche but Nicole didn’t care because it was true. Waverly was her home.

“I can’t wait to hug you.”

Nicole grinned though Waverly couldn’t see and flopped back on the bed, putting one arm behind her head to prop it up some. “I cannot wait to hug you. How was your day?”

A knock on her hotel room door startled Nicole and she’s already reaching for the pistol sitting on the bedside table before a second knock sounds.

“Hold that thought, baby there’s someone at the door.”

She left the phone on the bed as she tipped toed to the door, checking to make sure there’s a bullet in the chamber and the safety off.

She wasn’t always like this, terrified to open the door with some kind of weapon at the ready, something in hand to defend, protect herself with.

It wasn’t always like this. Nicole’s eyes dropped to the scar on her wrist, teeth marks forever embedded on her pale skin. A reminder of exactly why she refused to answer the door without some kind of weapon.

Looking through the peephole, Nicole releases the breath she had been holding and clicked the safety back on as she opened the door, giving Nedley a small smile.

“Ready for dinner?” He asked, eyes drifting down to the pistol she’s tucking into the waistband of her jeans as she moved away from the door. “You okay there, Haught?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Nicole picked her phone up, taking it off speaker and holding it up to her ear with her shoulder as she set about putting her boots back on. “Sheriff and I are going to get some dinner. I’ll call you when we back. I love you.”

“I love you too, Nic. Tell Nedley I said hey.”

With her boots on, Nicole shoved her phone in her front pocket and her wallet in her back. She removed her pistol from her jeans and put it in the safe provided in the room before she turned to Nedley.

“Ya know, we ain’t in Purgatory anymore. You’re safe here, Haught.”

He patted her shoulder awkwardly but the concern in his eyes more than made up for the awkwardness.

“I uh, still have some um Widow related issues,” she mumbled, looking down at her boots and rubbing at the scar on her wrist. A nervous habit she picked up in the last month or so.

Every time Waverly caught her doing it, she’d take her wrist gently, slowly and press a kiss to the marred skin, whispering an apology and a ‘I love you’ over and over again. It always calmed her and helped her forget the memory of excruciating painful poison running through her veins, if only for a little while.

Nedley put his hand over hers, stopping her from rubbing her skin raw. “I won’t let something like that happen to you again, I promise.”

Nicole gave him a small smile. “You can’t protect me from everything, Sheriff.”

“I can damn well try.”

Nicole fought to urge to hug the man standing in front of her. Nedley had been on her side since day one. Since she moved to Purgatory, he had been more of a father to her than own biological father.

He looked out for her, made sure she was fitting into town well enough. Helped her move from the shitty apartment she lived in when she first got to town to the house she lived in now. Hell, he helped her get the house as well.

He was just there for her, when she had no one, when things with Waverly were up in air. He was, he is the father she’d always wanted, always needed.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Anytime, Nicole.”

To her surprise, he pulled her into a hug. It wasn’t any less awkward than the pat on the shoulder but that didn’t make Nicole feel any less cared for, any less loved.

He wasn’t good with affection, giving or receiving, but he tried and in Nicole’s book him just trying was enough. Him just trying meant a lot to her.  

“You’re like another daughter to me. You and those pain in my ass Earps, you’re my other daughters.” Nedley pulled away, scratching at the back of his neck and avoiding her eyes. “And I protect my kids.”

Tears welled in Nicole’s eyes and she blinked rapidly to keep them from falling, eyes drifting down to her boots again. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him.

He cleared his throat and headed for the door. “Let’s get something to eat, I’m starving.”

“Oh, Waverly said hello.” Nicole closed the door behind them and fell into step with him as he made his way to the elevator.

“Speaking of Waverly.” He pressed the call button and stared straight ahead. “How is that divorce coming along, Nicole?”

Nicole choked on her own saliva, eyes nearly bugging out of her head as she looked up at him. “Uh, it’s finalized, Sir.”

She knew he had been the one to call Shae when she had been in the hospital this last time but she didn’t ever think he would bring it up. She’d been hoping, praying that he wouldn’t.

It had been bad enough explaining the whole marriage to Wynonna and she really didn’t want to have to explain the whole Vegas trip and marriage to him.

Waverly had been understanding when they finally got the chance to talk about it. Hurt but understanding nonetheless. Just as she had been understanding but hurt about Waverly kissing Rostia.

Those things were in the past though and she really didn’t wanna rehash any of it.

He nodded once, stepping onto the elevator when the doors opened. He waited until the doors were closed and they were well on their way to the lobby before speaking up again. “So, when are you planning on proposing to Waverly?”

Nedley dropped her off at the homestead just as the sun was setting, painting the sky in brilliant hues of pink and a breathtaking blueish purple.

One of Nicole’s all time favorite things about Purgatory were it’s sunsets and sunrises. They were, simply put beautiful and she loved when she got the chance to watch them with Waverly. Bundled up under a blanket together, passing back and forth a thermos of coffee or hot chocolate, Waverly’s head on her shoulder.

Nights and morning spent with Waverly doing nothing more than cuddling and enjoying the beautiful scenery Purgatory has to offer was Nicole’s favorite way to spend her time off.

It wasn’t often that they got to enjoy the simple things in Purgatory. There was always something coming up, something keeping them from just living a normal life. Whether it be demons, witches, or interrupting sisters.

There was always, always something but tonight, Nicole didn’t have to work. Tonight Wynonna was off with Dolls or Doc. Tonight there were no witches, no demons. It would just be her and Waverly and she planned to take full advantage of it.

Nicole walked up the freshly shoveled walkway, making it about halfway before Waverly stepped out onto the porch wearing one of the flannels Nicole had left and a pair of the boxers she usually slept in.

There was something so intimate about seeing Waverly in her clothes, that were just a little too big for her. It was adorable and somehow sexy at the same time and it filled Nicole with this warmth, this happiness.

In a few quick strides Nicole had reached the porch steps and before she even had a chance to climb them, Waverly launched herself into Nicole’s arms.

“I missed you,” Waverly breathed, burying her face in the crook of Nicole’s neck, her arms wrapped around Nicole’s back, slender, soft hands slipping under her winter jacket and fisting her shirt.

Nicole wrapped her arms around Waverly’s waist, pulling her in closer and brushing silky brunette hair with the tip of her nose, inhaling the scent of the shampoo Waverly used and something entirely Waverly.

After a week in sleeping in a hotel room on an uncomfortable bed without Waverly next to her, after spending a week with Nedley and arrogant soon to be officers, after a week without Waverly’s touch, Nicole was finally home.

She was finally where she belonged, where she felt the safest, where she felt loved and wanted.

“I missed you too.” Nicole pulled back, cupping Waverly’s cheeks and kissing the tip of her nose.

Waverly grinned when she brushed her nose along the bridge of Waverly’s, up to her forehead where she placed another gentle kiss.

Waverly grasped the back of her neck, fingers playing with the ends of short red hair. “I made dinner.”

Nicole smiled, unable to stop herself from stealing a quick kiss. “You made me dinner?”

Love for the woman in front of her swelled in her chest, threatening to burst her chest cavity wide open and spill out in the little space between them.

Nedley was right. She needed to marry this woman and she needed to do it soon.

“Well, technically I made myself dinner but you can have some,” Waverly shrugged one shoulder and sighed dramatically with a roll of her eyes. “I guess.”

“Well, if you feed me, I’ll clean up the mess you made in the kitchen,” Nicole said, reaching for Waverly’s hand and lacing their fingers together, leading them up the porch steps.

Waverly was starting to shiver and Nicole wanted to get her inside where she knew a fire was going before she got too cold.

“And what makes you think I made a mess?”

Nicole looked over at her with a knowing look, holding the front door open for her. “Because I know you, Waverly.”

Waverly was without a doubt the best cook in their little band of misfits but God, did she make a huge mess when cooking anything, no matter how small. Nicole was sure that the kitchen was a disaster, but she didn’t mind cleaning it.

If Waverly had went through the trouble of making her dinner then the least Nicole could do was the dishes.

Waverly stuck her tongue out at her before bringing their joined hands up and kissing each of Nicole’s knuckles then pressing an impossibly soft kiss to the scar on her wrist.

“I love you, Nicole Haught.”

The words were whispered against her scar before Waverly pressed a longer kiss to the skin there.

“I love you too, Waverly.” Nicole tugged on her hand, bring her in for another hug. This time Nicole buried her face in the crook of Waverly’s neck, breathing in the smell of her skin. “More than anything.”

[wayhaught-life-blog]

She dies

It was a good day. Everyone came over to the homestead for family dinner. Nicole, and dolls were outside talking about something. Doc, and Wynonna were playing cards, and well Jeremy he was trying that's what matters.

I was making a salad, and everyone insisted on helping, but like it's a salad. I had finished, and walked in to the living room to see that Wynonna was wining to docs disappointment. Jeremy was admiring doc to say at the least.

"Wave get me a drink would ya?" Wynonna asked looking at her cards, and smiling at me once she played her hand.

"Sure!" I said walking in to the kitchen.

I got the bottle down almost empty, but of course being at the Earp homestead there is another one  somewhere.

The door slammed opened, and dolls started yelling him and Nicole both running in the house as fast as they possibly could, well from what I could here that's what I figured.

"Everyone get down!" He yelled as loud as he could, tackling (well what sounds to be a tackle) Wynonna Jeremy, doc by the sound of the impact.

"Where is Waverly?" Nicole said panicked, and yelling.

"Kitchen." Wynonna said confused.

I walked out in to the hallway, to see everyone on the ground besides Nicole who was shaking. She saw me almost immediately, and tackled me to the ground hard.

"What's happening?" I chocked trying to get my breath back, Nicole wasn't heavy her weight was nice on my body, but she tackled me so hard the wind was knocked out of me.

"Don't move, or talk, stay absolutely still, Waverly we can not move."

   She whispered in my ear, being as quiet and still as possible, and calm well as calm as she could be. Her heart was throbbing it was so fast I could hear it faintly, I could also feel it this can not be good. Especially when she was shaking, and dolls provided the same reaction.

As soon as she said that guns started to fire in to the house. Her arms wrapped around me Nicole being my personal shield. I moved my arms around her at the top of her back holding her closer to me.

The door swung open, things fell upstairs, and all the Windows were broken in to. Nicole didn't move, and I tried my best not to. Jeremy screamed, but someone shut him up. No one else made an audible sound from what I could here.

"Kitchen!" A man yelled I shut my eyes and took a deep breath tightening my grip on Nicole.

"By, the table!" Another man yelled, and people moved surrounding me and Nicole. Probably the others.

"Haught. We know you are alive, can't play poisoned. We saw you throw the smoke Bomb. "

Nicole didn't even flinch, she stayed in place, I tried the absolute best I could. I heard the click of a gun, and Nicole finally moved she moved her head and I opened my eyes. I looked at her tear filled eyes, with my own in the same state.

"Waverly, I love you." She said before I heard the pull of a trigger. I heard the bullet, shoot out of the gun followed by Nicole pressing her head in to my shoulder, screaming in pain.

It was blood coddling. It sent tears to my checks. It sent a shiver through my whole body. The men left the room to be chased away by a fire breathing dolls, doc, Wynonna, and Jeremy yes Jeremy shooting.

I felt the blood fall on me, and turned Nicole over keeping my hand on the wound in her back.

"Baby, your going to ok we will get you to the hospital, hold on Nicole, please."

"I..." she started out weakly

"I love you Waverly Earp."

She said as the others came rushing in. Dolls rolled Nicole on her side pushing her shirt out of the way, with Jeremy as Wynonna, and doc forced me out of room. Ignoring my screaming, and kicks to try to free from there grip.

"NICOLE! Stop! NO! Let me go!!! LET ME GO!!!" I screamed cried, as doc and Wynonna got me as far away from her as possible.

"I LOVE YOU TO NICOLE HAUGHT!!!"

I screamed loud for her hopefully to hear.

"Wave-" Wynonna started totally unfazed.

"No! Don't you wave me! My girlfriend, your best friend was just shot for real this time so DO NOT wave me. Let me fucking go." I screamed at them trying desperately, violently to get away from them and to Nicole.

"Miss Waverly-"

"You shut it to doc and put me down damit!!!" I screamed, and cried trying everything I could to get to Nicole.

"Let her in!" Dolls said, and Wynonna, and doc obeyed.

I ran as fast as I possibly could in to the kitchen. I stopped at the sight of my girlfriend, spilling out blood, and it polling around her.

I got on my knees in the blood I didn't care at this point.

"Nicole, your going to be fine ok your strong, the ambulance is coming soon."

"I love you." Was all she chocked up, along with some blood. Her eyes stilled and I couldn't feel her heart beet anymore.

"NO! NO! NICOLE DON'T DIE, YOU CAN'T. BABY NO! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH NICOLE!"

I screamed at her lifeless body hugging her as if it would bring her back. Nicole was gone. No she can't be gone. I was cover in blood, sodding hard in to the body of my dead girlfriend hugging her so hard it hurt.

"Baby!" So one called out.

"NICOLE?!?!?!" I screamed looking down at her. No still gone. I pulled her body closer. I cried harder.

Nothing could brink her back. Not even me. Nothing...

Nothing...

Nothing at all could bring Nicole Haught back.

"Waverly! Wave baby wake up it's just a nightmare. Baby your safe. Please wake up."

I was dreaming?

I 'woke' up to find myself on our bedroom floor in Nicole's arms.

I pushed my body in to hers pushing us down to the ground. She's alive. God worst nightmare I've ever had.

"NICOLE!!! Your alive." I screamed in to her chest as I cried. I cried so hard I don't think I've ever cried so hard.

"Shhh... Baby I'm right here. Your ok. I'm ok. No one died. Shhh..." she said holding me close.

I calmed down a little, and I stopped crying a little, but I still held her every close.

"How did... what happened?" I asked very confused.

"You were having a nightmare, and fell out of the bed. I tried so hard to get you to wake up but nothing worked. You were kicking, and screaming my name. Saying you loved me for someone to let you go. Not to die, that I would be fine. I've never been so scared for you in my life. You cried so hard. I'm so so sorry, I couldn't wake you up."

"I'm sorry I was trying to get away from doc, and Wynonna. To get to you? Well dream Nicole. And don't worry it's not your fault well it totally is you went and died on me." I said as I started to cry in to her again.

"Please Don't ever do that in real life of in another bream. I Don't want to loss you I can't lose you Nicole please Don't leave me."

"Waverly, baby I'm never going to leave you. I won't ever leave you. Don't worry I'm not going to die anytime soon. Ok?"

"Ok."

"Do you want to talk about it, after we get back in bed?"

"Yeah, kind of actually I think it will make me feel better in a way."

"I'm a ears, and tissue I guess."

"Sorry." I said as she helped me up

"Don't be I'll be your tissue any day. Except for snot I kinda draw the line there."

"Yeah me to."

"Glad we agree." She said pulling me as close as she possibly could.

"Ok so it started, just a normal dinner. Right?" I asked and she shook her head in agreement completely ready to hear my dream about how she died because it will make me feel a little better.

I told her the story, crying as I told it her. She sat there and listened. Whipping my tears to the best of her ability.

"God wave that's terrible. I'm sorry."

"It's ok. I'm sorry you had to see me do what you said, probably getting kicked in the process, and then having to hear about your death in detail, because it helped me feel better taking about it. God now that I say it out loud I sound like a crazy sociopathic girlfriend. How terrible dose that make me Nic, honestly?"

"No, wave you aren't terrible. We have a hard life, and people cope in different ways ours just happens to be talking about it while using your girlfriend as a personal tissue."

"Your the best girlfriend ever, Nicole. You know that right?"

"I do, you've told me multiple times, And your amazing."

Inspired by this AMAZING story which you really need to read right now like just book mark it. Why are you even still reading this just click on the link now do it now.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12094149

God. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to write. I wanted to do it, but just the way I write the story I feel like it has so much emotion. I just wow I'm surprised I didn't cry more than I did while writing this Jesus. I hope you like it!!!

[atc74]

You Have My Word

Written for the Break The Zone Challenge #4 (check out the ML here). My bestie @just-another-busy-fangirl picked the prompt: “Have you still got your blindfold on?” His voice came from where he was tied up behind me. “Yes,”“Promise me you won’t take it off,” and here is the product of my musings. 

As you can see, @iwantthedean and her Gil McKinney crisis were the inspiration and this is a NicKinney ship. So if shipping ain’t your thing, get skipping; it won’t bother me none. 

WC: 2400+

Pairing: Nicole x Gil

Warnings: Medical speak, mentions of injury, taking of hostages, gunshots, violent situation - if you find any of this triggering, please do not read. 

A/N: This is angsty with a fluffy finish (Have ya met me?). Feedback is appreciated. 

Thursday’s were touch and go at the hospital, especially the emergency department. Nicole had spent the last couple of hours with a child that had broken his arm falling off the monkey bars at school. Before that, it was an outbreak of food poisoning from a church outing the night before. It had certainly been a messy, but mundane day.

Nicole had just stretched out in the breakroom for her dinner break, a rare occasion in itself, when she heard a commotion outside the doors. She got up and moved to the door, opening it slowly to see what was going on when she saw a woman covered in blood being wheeled into a procedure room.

“Well, it was good while it lasted,” she muttered as she tossed her soda into the nearest garbage can and strolled back into the E.D. This is what she lived for. As a student studying to get her Physician's Assistant degree and an EMT, Nicole loved the rush that came from saving a life in a situation like this. She readied herself with steady breaths and walked through the doors to where her newest patient had been brought in.

“What’d’we got?” she called out waiting for the assessment.

“White female, mid-twenties, multiple GSW’s to the chest and abdomen. Decreased breath sounds; patient was given O2 on scene. BP is 92 over 70 and falling,” the EMT team transferred her to a bed and rushed back out.

“Page Dr. McKinney, please. Alright people, let’s get this one stable for the O.R.!” Nicole called out instructions as nurses rushed around the room following her orders.

“Hey Nic, whatchya got for me?” Dr. Gil McKinney rushed through the double doors and listened intently to Nicole’s assessment of the patient while checking the woman’s vitals. It was a secret to everyone else in the hospital, but Gil and Nicole had been seeing each other for almost a year.

With his good looks (think tall, dark and handsome) and easy-going nature, he had caught Nicole’s eye immediately. Being a professional, however, she was determined not to let her love life get in the way of her learning. Gil quickly broke through her tough exterior when a young patient had died on her watch one night several weeks later, though.

The young patient she lost was in a car wreck and there was absolutely nothing she could have done differently to save the young boy’s life, but that didn’t make it any less heartbreaking. She knew there would be tough or complicated cases, and cases that would make her want to quit, but this was the one that made her want to throw her scrubs out and look for something simpler.

She and Gil had gone to inform the family, but she ran out when the mother burst into tears. Gil found her later, on the floor of the locker room, tears streaming down her face. She quickly brushed them away and stood, ready to apologize for her behavior, but he stepped closer and wrapped her in his arms, one hand cradling her head gently, as he swayed her back and forth.

They stood like that for what felt like hours; Gil whispering words of comfort and encouragement. She pulled back to thank him and his lips met hers in a feather light kiss; she was a goner after that. She quickly discovered that Gil stood for everything she did and they were not only a great match in their private lives, but they worked flawlessly together in a adrenaline fueled, life or death situation. 

The look on Gil’s face went from intent to urgent when the patient went into ventricular fibrillation on the table.

“She’s in V-Fib!” Nicole jumped up, kneeling on the bed and immediately started chest compressions.

“We need to intubate!” Gill called over the din of the room and he was handed the supplies. He expertly inserted the device through the patient’s mouth and into her trachea. “Bag ‘er!”

“Charge to 200!” Nicole called from her perch on the gurney, still pumping on the woman’s chest.

“Clear!” she heard Gil shout and she pulled her hands from the body.

“Again! Charge to 250!” They tried again, but nothing. Nicole resumed compressions between each charge. They tried for over forty-five minutes, but the young woman’s body just couldn’t handle the trauma it has sustained.

“Time of death, twenty-one thirty-seven.” Gil pronounced the patient dead and Nicole hopped off the gurney, tossing her gloves and smock in the hazmat bin at the door. She followed Gil out into the hall.

“Do you want to come with me to inform the family?” he asked cautiously, as this was always the hardest part of the job.

“Yeah, we can do it together,” Nicole put on a brave face. No matter their age, it was always tough to lose a patient.

Gil and Nicole entered the waiting room, calling out for the patient’s next of kin. Three young men rose from the plastic chairs and walked toward Nicole and Gil.

“I’m Jake. That is my fiancee; how is she? I need to see her,” the first man asked Gil heatedly.

“Jake, I am Dr. McKinney, this is Nicole. Sir, I am so sorry, but the damage to Marisol’s body was extensive and while we administered chest compressions and oxygen for nearly an hour, her body gave out and she passed away. We are so sorry for your loss,” Gil remained professional and compassionate, but the man lost it.

“How could you let her die? You’re a doctor; aren’t you supposed to save lives?” The man lunged at Gil and he pushed Nicole behind him in an effort to protect her, but the other men were on the two of them before she could call security.

Suddenly all three drew handguns and a shot was fired. Screams filled the waiting room as people scattered, looking for cover.

“Everybody out! But not you two! No, you go back in there and save her! Now! GO!” Jake held his weapon to Gil, while another grabbed Nicole by the arm and held her at gunpoint as well. “MOVE!”

Gil and Nicole both turned and headed back to the procedure room where the woman’s body was covered with a sheet; blood soaking through the white cotton where it laid over her.

“Sir, there was nothing else we could do. Please let us call someone to help you,” Gil remained calm under pressure, as always.

“No! There isn’t anyone else, it is just her! And now she’s gone!” Jake screamed at them once more, Nicole cringing as the gun pressed into her side with more pressure.

“Jake, let her go; you can have me,” Gil tried to reason with him.

“No, you took something from me and now I am going to take something from you!” Jake shouted back.

The man holding Nicole threw her to the ground and bound her hands behind her. She could see them do the same with Gil and now they were back to back on the floor. Jake was pacing the floor, wildly swinging his weapon through the air as he ran his other hand through his short hair.

One man stood outside the door and the other in the corner, waiting for Jake to make a decision. “Blindfold her, Nick; I don’t want her to see what’s coming,” Jake directed his buddy.

The blood rushed from Gil’s face and he reached for Nicole’s hands behind him. “It’s going to be okay, baby. I won’t let him hurt you,” Gil tried to reassure her.

Nicole squeezed back her silent reply and closed her eyes as the large assailant, Nick, searched for something to block her vision. “Scissors, back pocket,” Nicole whispered, hoping the doctor heard her. When she felt his hand squeeze hers once more, she sighed in relief.

Gil’s mind was going crazy with different scenarios playing over and over; thoughts running wild, like children on too much sugar. He was going to do everything in his power to keep Nicole safe. They always say that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone; he wasn’t going to let that happen. Not to her; to them. When they got out of this, he vowed he would tell Nicole how he truly felt.

“Jake Morris? This is Detective Ackles, Houston PD. We are here to help you. What can I get you, Jake?” A tinny voice came through the speaker on the phone in the room.

“You can bring my Marisol back! It wasn’t her fault! It should be me, not her!” Jake’s screams startled Nicole but she didn’t have time to react as Nick finally found some gauze and tightly wrapped her head and eyes. Although she could not see through the gauze, it was still light and she saw shadows pass before her. This gave her some hope.

“Now Jake, we both know I cannot do that. I have Dr. McKinney’s notes in my hand and I can see they did what they could to save her. Do you want to tell me what happened? Jake, I know you have a record and have been in some trouble; tell me about what happened to Marisol so I can help you.” Det. Ackles was calm as he tried to talk Jake down.

Gil’s eyes scanned the room, looking for anything he could. He had been involved with martial arts most of his life and recently picked up Mixed Martial Arts to help him stay in shape, so he knew he could fight one or two people, but there were three and they had guns. His first thought was getting Nicole out and safely away from this situation.

He let go of her hand and extended his fingers as far as they would go, but he couldn’t reach her back pocket. Nicole shifted behind him and he finally gained purchase on her scrubs and felt his fingers close around the handle of the scissors.

“It was just one more time, man; just one more. She wasn’t supposed to be there. She came to ask me to come home, forget the deal. But it went south and she got hit; I screwed it up and now she is dead!” Jake had crawled onto the gurney and was holding Marisol’s hand. His body wracked with sobs as he made his confession.

“Have you still got your blindfold on?” Gil’s voice came from where he was tied up behind Nicole. Gil was able to position the scissors and cut through Nicole’s bindings before working on his own.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice barely a whisper.

“Promise me you won’t take it off until I tell you,” Gil demanded of her. Nicole laid her head back to rest between his shoulder blades and he felt her nod.

A thump could be heard outside the room they were being held in and Gil noticed that the third man was missing from his post outside the door. This drew Nick’s attention, but not Jake’s; he was still on the gurney, repeating Marisol’s name over and over.

Gil saw his opportunity and gave Nicole warning to run and hide. She pulled the gauze off her eyes, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the room and launched herself through the second set of doors as Gil jumped up to make his move.

Gil was smaller than Nick, but what he lacked in weight and height, he made up with speed and agility. Gil swung out his right leg, landed a solid kick to the larger man’s kidney, bringing him to his knees. Gil lurched forward, kicking once more at his hand, knocking the weapon free and it skidded across the floor.

Both men fought for purchase on the slippery floor, but Gil was faster and reached the gun first, his foot connecting with Nick’s nose in a crunch and a rush of blood.

The door burst open and two armed officers restrained Nick in cuffs. Jake hadn’t even noticed them in the room, until they tore him from Marisol’s dead body and forced the cuffs on him.

Another officer entered the room and relieved Gill of the weapon, before shaking his hand. “What you did was reckless and stupid, but you did good, Doc,” the man told him.

“Couldn’t let anything happen to my girl, Detective,” Gil admitted to the officer, a smile lighting up his face.

“Jesus H Christ Gil, you both coulda been killed! And I ain’t going to my best friend’s funeral ‘cause he was stupid!” Det. Ackles shouted at him.

“Jack, come on! We train together; don’t think so little of me,” Gil reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah. Go get yer girl, Doc.” Det. Ackles wrapped Gil in a bear hug before releasing him to find Nicole. “She’s at the nurse’s station getting checked out by an EMT.”

“Oh, that is going to go over like a lead balloon. You know she trains those guys, right?” Gil laughed as he darted out of the room.

~*~

Later that night, Gil and Nicole were cuddled up on his couch, a blanket covering them both as each of them silently replayed the night’s events, the television providing the only light in the room.

Gil turned his body, disturbing Nicole. “Hey, I, um, I gotta say something. After tonight, what happened, what could have happened, I need you to know something. This has been an amazing year and I want the whole world to know. About you. About us.”

“Gil, are you sure? I don’t want to jeopardize anything for either one of us at work.” Nicole’s brows furrowed with concern.

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life, except that you are the most important part of it. Tonight, I thought I was going to lose you and that would have been a fate worse than death. I love you, Nicole Elizabeth, will you marry me?” Gil had dropped to one knee in front of her and held out a simple diamond solitaire on a gold band. “It was my grandmother’s.”

“Oh Gil, I was so scared I might lose you tonight, too. I love you. Yes, I will marry you. I would be honored to wear your grandmother’s ring,” her voice clear in the quiet space as he slipped the ring on her finger.

“I am never going to let anything happen to you. You have my word on that,” Gil promised her forever as he held the girl of his dreams in his arms that night and every night after that.

If you liked this, check out my master list or leave me feedback. 

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[seksipomminpurkaja]

14, 16, 18, 26, 27, 30, 34 and 44 for harlei, jack, nayden and anze?

the buds and the space not so buds

14 What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?

Harlei: After month of living off of cup noodles, anything even mildly fancier than that, chicken flavored anything is good. There are only three vegetables she even eats

Jack: Ham and pineapple and ham pizza, hate him for that if you must he likes the sweet and salty combo and pizza is great food for hangovers, not to mention that he just likes greasy food. He’s a little chubby because of this. He’s not too fond of fish or other seafood, even less after getting it on with Mirad

Nayden: Berries fresh from the forest, what he dislikes is food gone bad really, he’ll eat anything

Anze: good ol’ steak, and while he doesn’t have the luxury of being picky he’ll avoid eating too sweet

16 What does your OC smell like?

Harlei: like any expensive perfume she’s stolen, most often very floral with spice in it

Jack: two weeks old booze and motor oil. Or after a shower, love, he smells like love

Nayden: Smoke and pine, he lives in the woods and just has that as his natural scent as well, it’s quite magical

Anze: Whatever oil he uses to keep his armor shiny, smells like stress and sexual frustration

18 What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?

Harlei: She’s quite fearless, her weakness would be being overly confident and overestimating her own abilities, also has her jealous streak and the need to overplay anyone. Her strengths would be her confidence and her ability to think fast 

Jack: His fear is getting abandoned again, all the people he loves jst disappearing. His weakness, having no confidence or physical strength. He’s a very caring and loving person with a sense of humor, that counts as a plus yes?

Nayden: His family dying, his cousins, children, wife, his ultimate fear. he’s bit naive and too much go with the flow. although go with the flow is a good thing as well, he’s caring and he’s a real bro, best bro you could hope for

Anze: Being a disappointment for everyone, blame Andrei for this deeply rooted fear. He’s bit paranoid and very, very sleep deprived. He’s physically and mentally strong, loyal af, and very decisive

26 Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why?

Harlei: Hazel is very important for her, they grew up together, made their first gig together, worked together, support each other with their romantic relationships. And of course her parents are important to her too. Roben only had a bit of an impact on her, even though they never got to know each other before he was poisoned, he got her thinking.

Jack: Ellen is the most important thing for him, his brother long gone and her being the only remaining person from his family. He treasures her. I still don’t have that many characters i can think of someone only having a small impact on him ._.

Nayden: Apart from the obvious ones: Sharni and their kids, Lucas, he’s been around longer than any others from his little gang, and they grew a strong bond, sadly Lucas outlived Nayden by many years. He doens’t want to consider everyone the least important, just less impact on him, one of those people i even have manes for are Peter and Yvette, he was very inspired by them truly.

Anze: Nics was the One, it just clicked. First one outside the military or his family that was very meaningful to him. Maya wasn’t that important to him, but hearing about her death got him thinking about his own values and the situation with riedians in general

27 What kind of childhood did your character have?

Harlei: Not too traumatic, if something happened, it was her fault, but her parents tried, my god did they try.

Jack: Brotherly fights with Samuel in everything, and then staying in his smart brother’s shadow when he got to highly respected collage and he ended up a mechanic on a pirate ship at the age of 18

Nayden: He felt like an outsider most of the time, but he loved his aunt and uncle and they loved him back. And honestly, losing his uncle hurt him as much as it did for his cousins

Anze: Constant physical and mental beating, his dad wanting him to be like himself, his mother gone and all that. Andrei’s traits stuck to him for a long while and i think it’s fair to say he has PTSD, he didn’t get to be a child like his sister did

30 Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

Harlei: Married? The thought has occurred to her but at that point it was too early, or too late. Kids? She can’t have her own and wouldn’t see the point in adopting since she’s not too fond of kids to begin with

Jack: After getting out of jail he would think about getting married, to whom though? No one loved him. After meeting and getting to know Mirad the thought came back, he’s just too unsure of himself to ask the question himself though, and his age might affect that as well, since he thought getting married is for young, and still feel bit unlovable at times

Nayden: Settling down with kids was one of his most wanted things. His life kept him from actually actively searching for a partner, but then Sharni came, and they got close, and they were really close of just settling down until Anze came through the door “hold a fucking moment! i mma make u a king” and there they go again. He has total four kids and three grandchildren he got to see

Anze: Since his parent’s marriage didn’t go so well most of the time he thaught it was a waste of time and energy, so were kids. And he knew he was gay from quite young age too, so he just accepted he’ll never have kids. He was very close to marrying Nics, but then one thing led to another and he lost his arm and rest is history

34 What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

Harlei: You can find her from anywhere where the criminals gather, she likes playing a snarky btich, wrapping others around her fingers. Most of the time she’s just an attention whore among others

Jack: The bar, usually at the front desk too, near the bartender, just chatting and trying to be cheery, but when taken too much he starts getting very emotional while trying to offer others emotional support

Nayden: Whatever gathering he must attend, he likes being in the middle of it all so his socially anxious friends don’t have to, he likes chit chatting and is just charming

Anze: Everything a military leader has to, so.. every sophisticated ball ever. He rather stands at the edge and drink some wine but he has a lot of guests to see him and has to chat with them, keeps his polite exterior to some degree, gets tired halfway through and just hits up the ambassadors to let him leave

44 How does your character react/ accept criticism?

Harlei: ‘ok bitch how bout ya do this instead, trust me on my methods or fuck off’ so… badly i guess

Jack: just nods and tried better next time, if he even dares to try

Nayden: Quite well, it’s part of life yes? Improve yourself

Anze: noted… but will think of ways to improve, will consider your suggestions if they make any sense

[trendingnewsb]

Congress no closer to any vote on guns, almost three weeks after school massacre

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Trump seizes spotlight on guns

Turns emotional debate into gripping television.

President Trump was crystal clear on federal firearms policy this week: Seize weapons from people under certain circumstances without due process and rename a gun bill now before Congress.

The president declared the government should confiscate firearms from some people who may struggle with mental illness.

“I like taking the guns early,” Trump said. “Take the guns first. Go through due process second.”

The president also confidently instructed lawmakers to revise the heading on legislation designed to bolster the National Instant Criminal Background Check System, known as the “Fix NICS” measure.

“Maybe you change the title,” he told them at Wednesday’s White House firearms confab. “The ‘U.S. Background Check Bill,’ or whatever.” 

And with that, Trump presented Congress with concrete directions on how to solve the nation’s scourge of gun violence.

It’s now been two-and-a-half weeks since the massacre at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, in Parkland, Florida. Yet any action guns is at least another few weeks away — if ever.

The Senate leadership can’t forge an agreement to consider any gun bill next week, planning instead to wrestle with a handful of nominations and a banking-reform package.

Saying that Congress is close to debating firearms is like saying the curling competition is about to wrap up at the Winter Olympics.

Sen. Mike Lee, R-Utah, blocked the Senate this week from launching debate on the background checks bill. Many Democrats and some Republicans want to address more than just better background checks. But nobody is sure the chamber can ever reach an accord just to start debate on any firearms legislation.

Congress has faced this crossroads before — Columbine, Virginia Tech, Aurora, Newtown, Charleston, San Bernardino, Orlando, Las Vegas … .

Lawmakers of both parties have professed that things were “different” after each of those episodes.

Still …

“We’re at a tipping point,” observed Rep. Elizabeth Esty, D-Conn., at the White House meeting. Esty represents Newtown.

Sen. Bob Casey, D-Pa., wasn’t at the meeting and disagreed with Esty’s assessment.

“I’m not sure this will be a tipping point,” he said. “But it’s my sense that the ground has moved. Maybe ever so slightly. But at least enough that politicians can’t run and hide on this.”

So just how seismic was the attack at Parkland? Did the tectonic political plates really shift to compel legislative movement? How seismic were any of the other mass shootings? They certainly seemed to be seismic.

But none evoked a c ongressional response. In other words, the other mass shootings were just fissures. Despite astonishing events, perhaps the “big one” really hasn’t hit yet on guns. A gun attack so violent that it will tear apart the San Andreas Fault on this issue and force action.

A number of Senate Republicans tell Fox their conference is divided on what to do, if anything at all. Fox is told there is one wing of Republicans that just wants to do “something.” Members of that wing fear voters will torch them if they don’t move. At the White House meeting, Trump admonished congressional Republicans for being “petrified” of the NRA.

“I think you underestimate the power of the gun lobby,” shot back Sen. Chris Murphy, D-Conn.

And that’s the problem for the GOP. Democrats like Murphy have long experienced the NRA. But Republicans aren’t used to incurring the NRA’s wrath.

What looms is how Trump led another summit earlier this winter on immigration and DACA – then reversed course.

“Is this the Tuesday Trump or the Thursday Trump?” asked Sen. Jeff Flake, R-Ariz., of the gun convocation. “It’s a Wednesday, so we don’t know.”

“If the president has another one of these sessions and he doesn’t follow through, it’s going to hurt him,” predicted Sen. Lindsey Graham, R-S.C. “It’s going to hurt the Republican Party.”

But what if some Republicans run afoul of Second Amendment advocates? Senate GOP primaries are coming up. Some Republicans could vote for a gun plan which, heretofore, flies in the face of conventional GOP orthodoxy on firearms, and then face a beat-down in their primary.

Look at how GOP Senate hopeful Danny Tarkanian could deploy such approach against Sen. Dean Heller, R-Nevada, or Republican Senate candidate Chris McDaniel against incumbent GOp Mississippi Sen. Roger Wicker.

Some Republicans are privately apoplectic about what the president said about guns at the White House meeting.

“It did more harm than good,” said one Republican congressional source. “If (former President Barack) Obama would have said what (President) Trump said about guns, there would be riots in the streets.”

Right-wing activists warned for years that Obama, Hillary Clinton, California Sen. Dianne Feinstein and a host of other Democrats were coming to “get” people’s guns. The scare tactics inflated the price of firearms and ammo. And then on Wednesday, Trump — of all people — said he would seize some guns.

That freaked out congressional Republicans.

“We’re in a really bad place on this,” said one GOP senator who asked to not be identified. “We can’t do anything.”

There’s risk in the gun debate for Democrats, too.

Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer, D-N.Y., earlier this week introduced a three-point plan on firearms. Schumer’s scheme includes a debate on assault weapons. But this is a perilous path. A number of vulnerable Senate Democrats face competitive races this year in swing states or territory in which Trump is popular. Taking a tough gun vote could put those Democrats in a jam.

When asked about Schumer’s gambit, one Democratic senator with a challenging race this fall pulled no punches on the minority leader: “He’s stupid,” the senator said.

And don’t forget that Trump says he wants a bunch of proposals shoehorned into a solitary, gargantuan, comprehensive bill.

That rarely works in Washington.

Enter the “Goldilocks” factor: crafting a bill that’s “not too hot, not too cold, but just right.”

Legislation is all about “sweeteners” and “poison pills.” You could coax just enough lawmakers to vote yes on a bill if you add precisely the right sweeteners. Mix in the wrong ingredient, and you have a poison pill that drains support from the legislation.

There’s talk the House and Senate could just move an enhanced background checks measure and nothing else. Well, the House attached the enhanced background checks provision as a “sweetener” to a gun plan last year.

The base bill granted reciprocity for concealed carry permits across state lines — a priority of the NRA. The House approved the legislation and sent it to the Senate.

Concealed carry reciprocity across state lines won’t command 60 yeas in the Senate to break a filibuster. So, the natural inclination is to strip out the reciprocity provision. Does the bill then automatically score 60 ayes? Unclear. Democrats may demand the Senate do more on guns than just background checks.

Let’s say the Senate does approve a lean background checks measure, sans concealed carry reciprocity.

The Senate then sends the measure back to the House to sync up. The House Freedom Caucus and other conservatives would likely oppose the package because leaders extracted concealed carry reciprocity.

Under conventional circumstances, Democrats could make up the difference created by Republican defectors and vote yes for background checks.

However, there’s a problem. House Democrats might now oppose the legislation because they would demand extras on assault weapons and other gun limitations. The House could struggle to pass the retooled bill.

So, nobody is clear where this is headed — if it’s headed anywhere at all.

“Votes are hard to get in Congress,” Trump said at the Wednesday session.

Votes are hard on health care, tax reform and even foreign policy. But votes on gun legislation are the hardest of all.

Otherwise, Congress would have dealt with this a long time ago.

Trending in Politics

Congress no closer to any vote on guns, almost three weeks after school massacre

Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2018/03/03/congress-no-closer-to-any-vote-on-guns-almost-three-weeks-after-school-massacre.html

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