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#vincent shield is not a hero
ashintheairlikesnow · 1 month
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ash i love vince so much he is my number 2 babygirl (antoni number 1 babygirl forever)
i would like to formally request some vince having a Bad Time, either past stuff with owen or present with recovery being a bitch
because there is nothing better than lovely characters having bad times that they absolutely do not deserve
CW: Alcoholism, withdrawal/cravings, alcoholic anger, Vince and Jameson both PTSD-ing all over the place, guilt
Oh, poor Vince. Takes place post-the Same Bed Arc, after Vince is living with Nat and Jameson.
-
Vince doesn't even look up when he hears Jameson stop in the doorway. He just pours a few shots worth of the gin into the glass, staring fixedly down at it. The liquid, clear as water but with the herbal scent washing over him like a welcome spring rain, spreads over the ice with those gentle cracks he knows better than his own heartbeat.
God, it looks good.
His hands don't shake, now. His heart doesn't race. He doesn't feel sweaty, or upset, or like he'll be sick.
He just feels like he's staring at the solution to all his problems, and all he has to do is swallow it down.
This should feel awful - he knows it should. It should taste awful, there should be something to remind him of the damage he does to himself every time he drinks again. He should hear his sponsor speaking in the back of his mind, he should hear the voices of the others at the meetings he goes to - one for alcoholism, one for survivors of sexual assault, twice a week there's movie star Vincent goddamn Shield among the normal people and admitting he's barely human, just a wreck that only survived Owen Grant because Nat decided she gave a fuck about him for reasons Vince still doesn't understand.
Here he stands, a hollow shell wearing a nice face who let someone else suffer in his place and was grateful for it for far too long.
Kauri hates him but it's nothing compared to how much he hates himself.
Vince lifts the glass, hesitating at the last second with the cool rim just touching his lower lip. Gin smells like blacking out and right now he could use the blessed darkness, hangover be damned.
He can worry about that when the headache kicks in tomorrow morning.
He realizes he's waiting for the sickening crawl of guilt at letting Nat down, at-... at letting himself down. Maybe that will come later, but right now... He feels goddamn good. Settled. Calm.
He and Jameson meet eyes just as he tosses the drink back, three large swallows of juniper-scented gin down his throat like water, leaving only the ice cubes behind.
The burn is perfect.
He pours himself another drink, feeling the warmth slowly spread through his chest to his shoulders, eyes briefly closing. God, it feels like goddamn heaven.
He looks up.
Jameson is still standing there in the doorway, looking oddly soft in a loose sweater that's far too big for him and a pair of old jeans that probably cost a dollar at a yard sale and even that was too much. Vince has jeans that distressed, somewhere.
His cost more than five hundred dollars.
He chokes on the next drink from trying not to laugh.
Jameson's eyes narrow. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Vince takes another sip, eyes half-closed, letting himself take it slow this time and really enjoy the taste.
He'd honestly been surprised the little liquor store down the block even carried this brand of gin. Not that he wouldn't have bought whatever he could get, when he stood there feeling like he would die if he had to go another day, but still. It's nice to have seen his favorite stuff, top shelf, pricier than it had any right to be. It's not even that good, but it's still his favorite. It still tastes, to him, like the nights he sleeps without nightmares, few and far between.
Gin tastes like those nights he gets to sleep at all.
The cashier had looked surprised as she wiped off the dust and rang it up for him. Then, with a shy smile, she'd asked him if anyone ever told him he looked a lot like Vincent Shield. He'd been kind of sad she didn't card him - it would have been nice to see the look on her face when she saw his name.
Instead, he paid in cash, laughed, and told her the standard I get that a lot, actually.
Jameson doesn't move closer, or leave. "It looks like you're fucking yourself up," He says, lingering in the doorway. "You can't just start drinking again. You know that, right?"
"Oh, I sure as hell can." Vince laughs, but it's a bitter sound. He licks the gin lingering on his lips, then gestures at the bottle. "Have some with me."
He's caught, for just a moment, when he sees Jameson wearing an expression Vince has never seen on him before. He looks... nervous. Afraid, almost, instead of angry.
"I-I don't want to," Jameson says, but there's a way he says it that makes Vince think he'd drink if he offers again. Maybe he wants to, or maybe he just doesn't want to make Vince mad.
If he commanded it, if he gave an order... Jameson would be as he's told, wouldn't he? Damn, that would be some power to have over someone.
This must be why Owen liked it so much.
No.
He won't think about Owen right now.
Vince gulps down liquid until he's breathless, almost panting. The warmth is like the familiar cradle of a softer reality settling in. He makes himself slow down this time, picking up an ice cube and sucking the juniper taste right off it before crunching it with his teeth.
"Vince." Jameson's voice gets harsher, and something seems to break his brief paralysis. He moves closer, grabbing the bottle and pulling it away when Vince puts a hand out to pour the third drink. "Fucking... look at me. What the fuck?"
Vince's hand just... hangs out there, reaching for a bottle that isn't where it was. He stares at the empty space, and feels that dark inside of him threaten to well up yet again. "What?"
Jameson swallows, his eyes moving to the glass, back to Vince's face. He steps backwards, and Vince watches the bottle go with him with a piercing need that could easily knock him off his feet if he weren't holding onto the back of a chair. Jameson clears his throat. "Aren't you... like, sober now?"
"Mmmn. Was. Got the like... three month chip thing and everything." He's gotten thoroughly wasted so many times in his life. Nothing relaxes him better than enough alcohol to force his body to stop living in constant, unending fear of who might hurt him next. "Right now, I am tipsy instead. In about an hour, I'm going to be absolutely fucked up. Give me back my gin."
Jameson's hand moves - then he jerks it back, taking a few steps backwards until he's back in the doorway. His eyes are on Vince's face, watching him with a total focus that Vince recognizes from the others he's worked with over the years - Jameson's just a trained pet, in this moment, watching to see if the master will be angry.
It makes him laugh again, more bitterly this time. Is he the master? Has he ever been his own master, let alone anyone else's?
"I... I can't do that," Jameson says, and Vince hears that he doesn't say no. When Vince moves towards him, he backs up a little more, and Vince comes to a stop just a foot or so away.
"Am... am I scaring you?" He asks, suddenly.
It wasn't what he meant to say, he meant to demand his drink again. Instead, this question that... that just sort of falls out of him like a waterfall.
Jameson's jaw sets and his eyes narrow. "You're not doing shit to me," He snaps, but Vince knows he's really saying yes.
Is this why people buy pets? So they can see something pretend not to be scared, and know they're the monster not just under the bed, but in it?
"Oh," He whispers. "What is it? Why are you scared? I'm just a drunk asshole, why are you scared of me?"
Jameson bristles, but then he offers - as if it's pulled out of him against his will - the softest explanation. "Brute and Robert got drunk all the time. I know what happens when-... when people get this kind of drunk."
There's a look in his eyes Vince has seen before in Kauri's. Not fear of him, not directly, but fear of someone like him, maybe. Fear of having demands made that can't be denied.
Is this how Owen felt, every time Kauri had to playact the loving boyfriend with bruises on his wrists and terror making his heart race? Is this how it feels to have power over somebody else when you can't even control yourself?
It's... it's good, almost.
It feels better than he thought it would.
"Back up, Shield," Jameson hisses, like a cat spitting and arching its back, ready to attack with claws and sharp teeth not because it's confident in victory but because it's so small it has to fight to have even the slightest chance to survive.
Vince looks him over, reading with an actor's expertise how he's projecting a confident swagger he never feels, how the irritation layers itself so carefully over a vulnerability that he sees as weakness. Vince has lived that way, too, since he was twenty-one, since his best friend turned out to be a rapist who wanted Vince to himself, since he started drinking to forget every single night and putting on the perfect face during his days.
They both survived, didn't they?
Jameson just did it by fighting his way out, and Vince by pretending to be someone he wasn't until nobody knew who he actually was, and that's a way of surviving, too. Wear another face, and make sure no one sees the fear in your real one, so they can't refuse to help you... because you've never asked.
"No." At least one of them can say it. Although that makes Vince's heart twist with ugly guilt, the petty cruelty of the thought. "Give me my gin," Vince says, pitching his voice low, and holds out his hand. "Now, Jameson. Give it to me."
"I can't." The strength is gone from Jameson's voice, and he looks at Vince with those dark eyes searching his own, trying to make himself understood. "If you drink, your-... your body's not used to it anymore, if you drink the same amount you'll fucking kill your stupid liver."
"What do you care about my liver?" Vince's voice drops low, almost a whisper. "What do you care about me, about my goddamn joke of a life, huh? What the fuck do you care? Why should anyone care?"
There's a flicker of something in Jameson's eyes - recognition, maybe. Something that lights up, just for a second, before the other man shoves Vince to the side with sudden violent strength and stalks to the sink, turning the bottle over and pouring that expensive artisan gin right down the drain.
"No!" Vince's voice is a ragged shout as he lunges after him, but it's too little too late.
Jameson's foot kicks out and slams into Vince's calf, sending him stumbling, clawing desperately as the gin is gone, glug glug glug, down into the pipes, disappearing towards the ocean.
Rage and terror fight in Vince's mind in a sudden white noise and he gets to his feet, grabbing Jameson by the arms and squeezing as hard as he can, shoving him back across the room. He hears Jameson hit one of the chairs, the clatter of wood and Jameson's grunt of pain as both hit the ground hard. The bottle is in the sink, and even when Vince scrambles to pick it back up, there's less than an inch of gin left.
He sucks it down, and only once he's gotten that final drop does he suddenly go still.
Oh.
There's the guilt and the horror and feeling sick at himself, just... twenty minutes too late. He sets the empty bottle carefully down, and then turns slowly around to look at Jameson.
Jameson sits on the kitchen floor, staring up at him with wide eyes. His face is pale, making the scar that twists the corner of his mouth stand out even more. His hair is nearly grown back in now, the bald patches hidden by the rest.
Vince exhales in a rush. "Oh, hell. Jameson-" He holds out a hand.
Jameson flinches.
Vince pulls his hand back, backing up until his back hits the edge of the sink. "Right. Okay. I'm-... I'm sorry Jameson-"
"Yeah." Jameson's voice is gruff, all the vulnerability and fear wiped away as soon as he realizes it's showing. He gets to his feet, shoulders protectively hunched, arms crossed in front of himself defensively. "Whatever. Sure you are. Drink yourself to death, shitbag, if that's what you want."
"I'm so sorry."
Jameson's jaw works. "... Everybody's always sorry. Then I get fucking hit again." Then he turns and walks - limps, really, his knees threatening to give out with every step - away. Vince stands there, frozen, listening as he makes his slow, painful way up the stairs.
Vince stares at the place he was for a while - he isn't sure how long. The gin is sinking its velvet claws into his mind, and he's drunker than he should be after only two drinks.
But then, it's been months.
Months, he made it without taking even a sip.
He swallows, again and again, and then pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, finds a contact, and presses the button to make the call.
The phone rings until he's certain it'll go to voicemail, before a voice he knows as well as his own is in his ear.
"What the hell do you want?"
"I-I need to talk to you," He stammers, his heart cold. "Please. Please. I-I've been drinking. I need... I need help."
There's a pause.
"From... me?"
"Yeah... yeah. You'll-... I need somebody who won't be nice to me-"
"Oh, well, if there's anything I love it's the chance to be mean to you, let me drop my entire life to come listen to you whine about yours."
"Please."
An exhale. "Whatever. Yeah, okay. I'll be over there in like... half an hour? An hour, maybe. Drink some water and I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't leave the house."
"Thanks... thank you, Kauri."
Kauri hangs up.
Vince pours himself a glass of water over the leftover gin-soaked ice, sipping it, barely flavored with a hint of the liquor he wants so badly. He rights the chair he'd accidentally shoved Jameson into, and listens to the creaking floorboards and muffled cursing above him as Jameson makes his halting painful way from stairway to his room, a couple thumps when he clearly falls and had to force himself back upright, until the pacing abruptly stops when he must have collapsed into his bed.
He hears the gentle patting of Trash Cat's paws as she leaves her place on the living room couch and follows him, too, her soft meowing until Jameson opens his door to let her come in after him. Then silence again.
Vince sits back down at the table, leaning over with his head in his hand, staring as the ice slowly melts, cooling the water around it.
He should have called his sponsor instead.
Whatever Kauri is about to say can only make this worse.
But he deserves it, anyway.
Vince doesn't move a muscle until he hears the sound of Jake's truck pulling into the driveway, crunching briefly over gravel before it's on the pavement again, when he raises his head.
Kauri walks in without knocking, stops in the doorway to the kitchen, and looks at him like his younger self ashamed of what he's grown into. Vince knows Jake must have driven him, but he's nowhere to be seen - maybe just staying outside, for now. He's clearly dressed for bed in a matching navy blue silk button-up and pajama pants, barefoot even.
"Hey," Vince says, weakly. The alcohol feels like poison now, not the soothing warmth it had been before. "I... I fucked up, Kauri."
"Yeah, I can tell just by looking at you, you're a goddamn mess." Kauri looks at Vince head-on, even though it still hurts him to do it, and Vince can see the flinch he suppresses as the headache kicks in. His blue eyes are identical to Vince's in nearly every way, except that Kauri's gaze has always been stronger. "What the hell did you do?"
"I got... I drank."
"Yep. I can see the gin bottle. Did you drink all of it?" Kauri's voice is flat and businesslike. It's like having his own younger self dressing him down, and somehow that feels... really good. Better than he thought it would.
"... No. Just a couple drinks. Jameson poured the rest out."
"Good for him." Kauri flickers a smile. "Where is he?"
"I-... I scared him."
"... you scared him?"
"Yeah. I was-... I wasn't-... I didn't mean to, but-"
"Shut up. All right. Tell me what you did. I'll fix it. This time, taking your place so I suffer for years while you run off and become obscenely wealthy is off the table, got it?"
Vince looks at him in horror only to see a surprising warmth in Kauri's smile. Not... not affection, but something like it. A wry compassion, maybe. Something else he doesn't deserve. "I don't know. I don't know if I can fix this, Kauri. I don't know."
"Well... I happen to the resident expert in trying to avoid dealing with your problems while making them all worse, so talk to me. Tell me what you did, start to finish. We'll figure out what comes next."
Vince lowers his head into his arms.
"Thank you," He says, muffled.
"Not enough thanks in the world, dumbass. Lucky for you I'm an amazing person who just happens to have spent most of my twenties making stupid drunk mistakes. So stop stalling and start talking."
-
@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @whumpyourdamnpears @cubeswhump  @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @autophagay
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buggy-about-town · 2 years
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The lucky ones
My two favorite boys Vince and Kauri from @ashintheairlikesnow ! I love the way these two character’s traumas make them feel like strangers haunting their own bodies and I wanted to capture that in this.
To be honest I’m not the happiest with this one :/ I really struggled with the lighting and shading but I’ve stared at it too long so here it goes!
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coeluvr · 2 months
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A part of me really wishes MC had a Shield or Vincent was made to be their (fake/pseudo/temporary) Shield because after being subjected to Lancelot and Luceris for many years, they would be extremely hostile to the idea of such a person connected to them.
A mix of "I don't fucking need a dog!" "If I become a monster, I want to be put down like one, not coddled and enabled." and "You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."
And seeing it as the ultimate expression of love because someone loves and cares for you enough to stop you. Hold you close and cradle you while you die in their arms as your true self.
Basically more parallels between MC and Luceris. (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
Well Vincent did become MC's temporary guard, there's just no oath or loyalty in there. 🥳 And Vincent is not a knight hence he can never become MC's Shield.
I don't see what we see in Luceris x Lancelot as the ultimate expression of love though, it's too insane in my eyes to be that.
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akesdraws-blog · 8 months
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📷 Under the Public Eye 📷
We interrupt your favorite program to announce the news of the century!
Finally our mysterious protectors of the city, our heroes, who are always there to help us from the shadows, after so many years in anonymity, will finally officially present themselves to the public!
That's right, as you've heard it.
The famous reporter Abril O'neil confirmed it exclusively, with the support of the Chief of the Police Department Rebecca Vincent.
The big reveal drove all of New York crazy.
We're going from just having snippets of fan photos to having exclusive images!
And thanks to our sponsor The Hero who defeated Destroyer, will offer a great party to welcome these mysterious heroes, that's right, we are talking about the “Fenwick Falcon”.
You can't miss it!
At the end of the announcement, only a proud Vernon was seen, since the party would be held in the old Sacks villa that Vernon bought some time ago.
Vernon. -He!, He!, And how are you? You liked it, right?- You could see the huge smile on his face.
Mikey. -Does that mean we will be officially famous? I have to practice my best side for the camera- Mikey spoke excitedly while he thought of all the poses for the camera.
Leo. -Vern, we had talked about a subtle revelation- he spoke under his breath as they massaged the wrinkle formed on his forehead.
Raph. -Yes, how did we go from something subtle to “that”?- Raph said, a little annoyed, although more than anything nervous.
Donnie. -They didn't even warn us that it would be of such magnitude- said the nerves in his voice.
April. -In my defense... They changed my words, I only talked about it with my boss, I didn't confirm anything- the redhead said a little indignantly.
Casey. -In fact... It was Rebecca who confirmed it- said the black-haired man, scratching the back of his neck a little uncomfortable.
Splinter. -I think we would have liked to have had advance notice- the old rat murmured with concern.
Literally the entire team had a small crisis because of what they had just seen.
Initially they were going to do it to be able to stop the fans who seemed to hunt them as if they were Pokemon looking for a photograph and it was extremely annoying, except for Mikey, he even posed for some and his brothers had to drag him away.
Casey. -Guys, Rebecca wants to see you, I'll send the location and she'll be waiting for us in 20 minutes- Casey announced as he looked at his phone.
Leo. -Maybe we can fix this so it's a little more...private- I considered, although he was still worried.
After what was said, all the turtles left to follow Casey from the garbage truck.
Each one thought about the reason why they had been requested, perhaps it would be a plan to be able to modify or alter the news sheet.
Although none of them expected the real reason why they had been summoned.
The meeting place was a very exclusive hotel, they entered through the parking lot and were escorted by several police officers who covered them with shields for safety.
Each of them was holding a tablet while sitting on a huge sofa, big enough for the four siblings to sit together, although they were all in a kind of shock.
Casey. -Can you repeat why the boys are here? - The black-haired man spoke, thinking that he had heard wrong a moment ago.
Rebecca. -Look, some citizens are afraid of you because they don't know them, even if they are aware of what they did for the city, what you need is to show that they can have a common coexistence- I explained as simplified as possible while looking at the turtles.
April. -And they are in a whorehouse for what reason?- asked the redhead with the older sister instinct active.
Rebecca. -The event will be in a couple of days and at that time they cannot arrive alone, no offense, April, but they need the public to see that they can coexist as any person would.
Donnie. -Yes, but... We are not like any other person- he spoke a little distressed.
Raph. -I highly doubt that anyone wants to live with any of us- this time Raph spoke, somewhat annoyed.
Rebecca. -The situation was explained to the Ladies of the place and they were shown a photograph of each one- she spoke calmly and when she saw how the turtles were going to object, she made a sign with her hand to let her finish speaking -I must say that some quickly refused, but others have accepted, the tablets that you have in your hands will show you the women who have accepted, you will choose who and how to meet them- I finish speaking waiting for the turtles' response
Mikey. -I accept!- He spoke excitedly even though she received a blow on the back of the head from Raph.
Donnie. -If we talk about that issue, it is not wrong, humans feel calmer when they can see someone of the same shape living with others, it is like those who live with other common reptiles, they foster an unconscious acceptance- he mentioned after having analyzed what was said.
Raph. -And why can't we go with April and that's it?- Raph asked, crossing his arms.
Rebecca. -We need Miss April to be in unbiased focus, so she will cover her revelation- she quickly responded to the question.
Raph. -What do you think Leo?- she asked looking at Leo who had remained silent.
Leo. -We could do it- he finally spoke, surprising everyone. -I don't like using the ladies just for an image… But I guess it's the best option-
Mikey. -Great!, Have I already told you how much I adore you brother?- He said while hugging Leo with emotion.
Rebecca. -Well, then you can look at the tablet and choose the lady who you prefer to meet with-
Donnie. -Meet?- he asked confused.
Rebecca. -Of course, I won't send them to just anyone- she replied with a slight smile.
After the boys began to look at the “Ladies of Company” catalogue, each one took their time, except Mikey who was practically jumping with excitement, they even asked April for advice on who to choose.
Who will be the turtles' lucky companions?
.• ~°•. ~•°. ~°•. ~•°. ~°•. ~•°. ~°•. ~•°. ~°•.
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charlenasaxen · 9 months
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Favorite Quotes - The Final Gambit pt. 2
Every few minutes, I brushed against Jameson or Grayson, or one of them brushed against me.
“I have never asked for anything from you.”
It was palpable in his voice: the many, many things he had never asked for.
my head of security answered the door with his gun drawn.
“Hello to you, too,” Thea said dryly.
“As you wish.” He picked the puppy up and snuggled her to his chest. “We shall call you Tiramisu,” he declared
The closer I got to the year mark, the harder Alisa pushed, and the closer she and her firm got to losing the reins
“Let’s look at the positives here,” Xander suggested. “I look dashing in that photo.”
“It would take connections.”
I looked up to the stairs—and Grayson
stopped short of looking at me. He was wearing all black, but not a suit.
Xander held Tiramisu up to his face and spoke in the puppy’s voice. “Don’t worry. The fire was very small.”
Divide and conquer wasn’t a Hawthorne family motto, but it might as well have been.
Somehow, that sounded more threatening than any words I’d ever heard this man speak. “Look up.”
Nan scoffed. “Do you know how many enemies this family has made since then?”
Nan took my hand and held it tight. The expression on her face grew tender. “You’re the one playing the piano now, girl. Men like Vincent Blake—they’ll break every one of those fingers of yours if you let them.”
“I’m going after her.” Grayson viciously cuffed his sleeves, like he was preparing for a fight.
“Grayson, stop,” I said urgently. “Think.”
As Jameson finished whispering furiously in his ear, Grayson stood very still
parted with two and only two words. “I waive.”
walls were made entirely out of gemstone slabs—a shining, metallic black. “Obsidian,” Jameson told me. “And agate crystal.”
The ceiling overhead glimmered in a rainbow of colors—more gems.
“I jumped from dangerously high up, the way she did. Nothing happened the first time. Or the second. But the third…”
“Because Gray is going to keep jumping until it hurts. He’s always been the solid one, Heiress.
And now, he’s lost his mooring, and I have to be the strong one.”
“Take me with you,”
Frustrated, I swept my hand over one of the diamonds, wiping it away.
Click.
and it wasn’t like Oren would have let Jameson and Grayson run off alone.
“Behold!” boomed a voice from the other side of Oren. “The heroes ride into battle! Avery will be liberated!”
Xander, Thea, and Rebecca incoming. Xander was holding an enormous metal shield that looked like it had been lifted straight off the arm of a medieval knight.
Or know someone who knows someone who knows—”
Thea placed a hand helpfully over Xander’s mouth.
He smiled a very Xander Hawthorne smile, then let his bravado falter. “But before we go, group hug?”
I’ve dismantled four and a half Porsches past the point of no return in the last two years. But in my defense, they had it coming, and I needed the parts.”
Then why weren’t you there? I thought with a ferocity that stole my breath. My own father had been mostly absent, but this was Xander
I couldn’t bear the idea of him getting hurt.
“Do you want me to go?” Xander asked Isaiah hesitantly
Not because the old man had been unhappy about his youngest grandson’s conception but because he’d refused to share him.
“So you just gave up on your son?” Rebecca asked Isaiah sharply.
“They faked the DNA test.”
“I couldn’t prove it,” Isaiah told him. “I couldn’t get near you.”
about Jameson’s hunger and Grayson’s punishing perfection, both of them competing for approval that was always just out of reach
You’re saying that you wanted me? The question echoed all around us.
Isaiah responded: “Still do.”
Xander bolted.
I looked up at Isaiah Alexander. Your son is amazing, I thought. You can’t ever hurt him.
Xander shook his head. “I have so many regrets.”
“You literally just picked up another doughnut,” I pointed out.
“But I tend to think they should have catapults.”
Xander nodded, like that was an acceptable answer.
horrified and entranced. “Witness the betrayal,” I echoed, “and wonder why his father let some nobody from nowhere get away with screwing him out of millions?”
You’re the one who locked me in the world’s most bejeweled escape room!”
Mrs. Laughlin pinned me with a look that had probably been used on generations of Hawthorne children
to say his brother’s name a third time. “Avery found out something that you need to know. Outside, Gray. Now.”
but Grayson caught my hand. He gave me a look like a shard of ice. “What are you doing, Avery?”
I asked Mrs. Laughlin softly. “Your daughter and Toby. You were trying to protect them from Vincent Blake.”
“You know why I wear it. You know, Grayson.”
“Don’t trust anyone,” I said, my tone a match for hers.
The one who didn’t have to dirty his hands to put an adversary in their place.
Am I the enemy again, Gray?
“Did you hear a word I said in there?” I asked, my heart breaking
I felt like he’d just thrown ice-cold water in my face. Like he’d hit me.
And then I watched Grayson Hawthorne walk away.
I could hear Grayson telling me that I had an expressive face, telling Jameson that I was one of them. I could feel Grayson correcting my grip on a longsword, see him catching my Hawthorne pin.
“I also know that Gray’s the better man. He always has been. The better son, the better grandson, the better Hawthorne.
“You’re honorable, Avery Kylie Grambs. Once you were with me, you were with me. You love me, scars and all. I know that, Heiress. I do.”
I thought about our fight. “Better is being my friend and my partner and realizing that you don’t get to make decisions for me
“have always made me bold. You’re the one who pushes me out of my comfort zone. You don’t get to box me back in now.”
“It’s times like this, Heiress, that I wish I’d fallen in love with a girl who wasn’t quite so good at bluffing.”
I wondered if he could hear my anger—and every ounce of emotion buried underneath
I want to know what happened to my son. And I want you, Avery Kylie Grambs, to dig up the past and bring me his body.”
She’d been looking for answers, for proof. For a body, I thought. Or more realistically at this point, for bones.
The old coot threatened to build me a mausoleum instead.
What if that hadn’t been a threat? What if Tobias Hawthorne had just decided it was too obvious?
Where would a man like Tobias Hawthorne hide a body?
the delicately carved pews, the elaborate stained-glass windows, an altar made of pure white marble
“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
I knew what this inscription meant—not in a biblical sense, but to Tobias Hawthorne.
would there have been anything left but bones? I didn’t smell death. Stretching to reach in and move the shroud
“And honestly, Avery, how do you think Gray will feel if Oren shoots me? What do you think will happen if that beautiful, broken boy walks in
“She admitted that Liam didn’t leave. I believe her exact words were There was so much blood.”
I thought of Toby telling me that he had two daughters.
“Give me the USB,” Eve said again, her eyes still blazing
you won’t ever have to see me again, Avery. I’ll earn my seal, and you can have this place and those boys all to yourself. Win-win.”
Grayson stood there, backlit, his eyes locked on Oren, who was still restraining Eve.
“Let her go,” Grayson ordered.
“I can’t let you have this,” Grayson said softly.
“Grayson—” Eve and I said his name in unison.
“I heard.”
He owed you better, and you and your family owe Avery nothing.”
Grayson’s eyes met mine. “I owe her more than she realizes.”
A dam broke inside me, and all of the hurt I hadn’t let myself feel came flooding out, and with it, everything else I felt—and had ever felt—for Grayson Hawthorne.
Grayson took a breath. “You’re a big girl,” he told Eve. “You make your own choices.
Grayson arched an eyebrow at her. “Not without a second drive.”
A second drive.
something in her voice that made me think she believed it.
Grayson didn’t blink. “Not anymore.”
“He’ll keep coming—and sooner or later, all of you will wish to God that this had ended with me.”
“I owe you an apology.”
I met Grayson Hawthorne’s eyes, as light and piercing as they’d been the first time I saw him.
it hurt to let myself think about how much I’d expected from him.
“Yes. I do.”
Grayson looked away. “I,” he said, like that one word cost him everything, “have been punishing myself for so long
He cut off, like his windpipe had closed suddenly around the words. I watched as he forced a jagged breath into his lungs.
The old man was always there, pushing for better, for more.”
I’d thought once that he had bulletproof confidence.
And then… there was you.”
“Grayson.” His name caught in my throat.
Grayson just looked at me, his light eyes shadowed.
than I will ever be capable of loving anyone real.”
That was a confession and self-condemnation and a curse. “That’s not true, Grayson.”
like the act of doing so was painful and sweet. “It was never just the idea of you, Avery.”
“But not you.” The words were just as sweet, just as painful. “Never you.”
Something gave inside me. “Grayson.”
“I know,” he said roughly
Grayson looked at me the way you look at art in a glass case, like he wanted to reach out to touch me but couldn’t.
He paused. “Tell me you’re not.”
I couldn’t do that. He knew I couldn’t. “I am in love with your brother,”
I’d changed. If I hadn’t, maybe things could have been different, but there was no going back.
I was who I was because of Jameson.
He looked at me one last time. “There are so many things that I will never say.”
He was getting ready to walk away, and I had to let him—but I couldn’t. “Promise me you won’t leave again,”
but I took mine off and pinned it on him anyway.
She is one of us. Well, it goes both ways, Gray.”
“Scio,” Grayson told me. I know.
Grayson closed his eyes, and I was hit with the feeling that I would never forget the way he looked standing there in the light from the stained-glass windows. Without his armor. Without pretense. Raw.
But he was omnipresent in this place. Hawthorne House bore his mark. Every room. Every detail.
The boys bore it, too.
“All great lives should have at least one grand mystery, Avery. I won’t apologize for being yours.”
a mystery befitting Hawthornes, the puzzle of a lifetime? To bring them back together through you? Yes.”
take as your consolation this, my very risky gamble
You may be tested by the flames, but you need not burn
Hate me if you must. Let your anger light a fire that the world will never extinguish.
it has been the joy and honor of my life to make you better men than I will ever be.
“On your marks, boys,” Tobias Hawthorne said on the recording. “Get set. Go.”
I guarantee that he’d be the one manipulating you.
This family—we destroy everything we touch.
You’re not a player, kid. You’re the glass ballerina—or the knife.
“And right now, Alisa and her firm have a lot to lose if I don’t agree to a trust.”
Grayson swore with a powerful intensity I hadn’t seen from him in months. “We’ll destroy him.”
“Find a body—or what’s left of one after forty years.”
Nash’s eyes narrowed. “This had better be one hell of an explanation.”
to Jameson and… Grayson wasn’t there. I wasn’t sure when we’d lost him
left a series of hidden messages for the old man, and went on a self-destructive tear across the country that ended in the fire on Hawthorne Island.”
if Toby hadn’t been broken by the horrific secrets he carried.
The real Hawthorne legacy.
“You made me hungry,” I told Jameson, “for everything. I want the world now.”
His thumb lightly skimmed my lips. And I said the two words guaranteed to take that spark in his eyes and set it on fire.
“Dig here.”
Jameson let his hand fall to his side, until I was the only one holding the torch. Slowly, I walked the perimeter of the room.
I was never a Hawthorne.
I will never be a Blake.
So what does that make me?
my heart contracted. Complicit.
“But you have her mind, Rebecca. She was brilliant. Is still.” He choked on the next words. “My little girl.”
“That’s how this works. We’ve all done our share of forgetting.”
I pictured Tobias Hawthorne standing there and watching a man die. Letting him die.
“And afterward?” Xander said, uncharacteristically muted.
“I never asked,” Mr. Laughlin said stiffly. “And Mr. Hawthorne never told me.”
“But if Vincent Blake asks what happened, you protect your mother. You tell him that it was me.”
“Grayson?” I repeated, my heart seizing in my chest.
“He’s the reason Blake let me go. A trade.”
Grayson Hawthorne and his grand gestures. Frustration, fear, and something almost painfully tender threatened to bring tears to my eyes.
“Blake still has the upper hand.”
He had Grayson. There was a terrifying symmetry to that.
“No,” I replied, staring her down. “You have no idea what I’m doing. There’s a difference.”
But the truth is that Tobias Hawthorne’s fortune will be in my hands very soon.”
whether you still want to have a job when that happens.”
My voice hitched. “That was all you.”
Oren gave me the briefest of smiles. “What’s the plan, boss?”
they were crashing into Nash in a truly impressive synchronized flying tackle.
Xander began serenading him with a brotherly limerick
And I was here now to pay my respects to the deceased’s family, on behalf of myself and the remaining Hawthornes
“Win both of your matches,” Blake finished silkily, “and I’ll give you all five.”
“Win at least one game,” Blake continued, “and I’ll release Grayson Hawthorne to you
the second I moved my first pawn, it was like no time had passed at all. Harry and I were right back in the park.
“Your move, princess.”
I knew the exact moment that Toby saw the trap I had laid. “Horrible girl,” he whispered...the tenderness in his eyes when he said it almost took me down.
His move. Mine. His move. Mine.
as the realization of what that meant fell over me, my insides twisted.
Toby had lost both matches. He was Blake’s.
Toby reached out to cup my face. “I see so much of your mother in you.”
That felt far too much like good-bye.
“Avery.” Grayson’s blue-gray eyes—his irises icy and light against the inky black
I pulled him close and spoke directly into his ear. “I told you, Grayson, we’re family.”
With tens of thousands of diamonds glittering between us, we faced off
“Do you have any idea how risky this is?” Alisa asked me.
“It always has been,”
This was his very risky gamble—and mine.
After two, he realized I had him trapped. He stood, tipping his king conceding the match. White gold clattered as the piece hit the jewel-encrusted board, the black-diamond king glittering in the sun
I promise I won’t slowly and strategically destroy you wasn’t a legally enforceable term
“for once in my life, to prove to someone that I was good enough.” Her eyes betrayed her, going to Grayson, but he didn’t turn around
“What you did back there with Blake was very risky,” Toby told me—half censure, half praise.
I shrugged. “You’re the one who chose my name.”
I knew that this had never been about me. But unlike Toby, I had no regrets. I would have done it—all of it—all over again.
When he spoke again, it was from the driver’s seat. “And Texas really isn’t that big—especially at the top.”
“I made you something, horrible girl.”
The endearment nearly undid me.
about the decades and tragedies and small moments that had led all of us to right now.
“Watch out for her,” Toby told Grayson. “Take care of each other.”
Grayson saw his brother standing there, and he answered on behalf of both of them. “We will.”
The knight returns with the damsel in distress,” Jameson declared. He glanced toward Grayson. “You’re the damsel.”
The color was unbearably rich, darker than a ruby but just as luminescent. Golden thread and delicate jewels combined
he asked, an appropriate amount of suspicion in his tone.
I smiled. “Guess.”
holding what appeared to be a melted water gun. “Jamie and Gray have joined forces. Xander has a blowtorch. This is never good.”
“Remember,” she told me, her eyes dancing, “there’s no such thing as fighting dirty if you win.”
I turned my water gun on Nash right as she creamed him with a water balloon.
This was it.
This was the night.
This was everything.
This was us.
I felt someone else watching me. Grayson was wearing a silver tuxedo with sharp, angular lines
he strode over to me, his expression assessing. “You have a plan,” he commented, his voice low and smooth and sure.
“I’m glad,” Grayson told me, the words slow and deliberate, “that it was you.”
I have a lead on where we can get a reasonably priced two-story-tall teeter-totter.”
as Grayson let the puppy lick his nose and challenged his brothers to a round of hold-the-puppy pinball
“Gen H verity,” I said.
Jameson arched a brow. “As in generational truth for people far older than us?”
“It’s your anagram,” I told him, “for everything.”
he continued to produce it, seemingly out of nowhere
“Happy new life,” Jameson corrected. He kissed me like it was New Year’s Eve, and I savored it
“And I have,” I said. Built-in shelves lined the Nook’s walls. Every place I went, I found a keepsake
Others… well, maybe you’ll find yourself on the receiving end of the world’s most exclusive invitation.”
“The game,” I said, my voice ripe with promise, “starts right now.”
9 notes · View notes
shivershill · 1 year
Text
I am finally done. Made in celebration to Base Felix getting into heroes. Now his sister follows him... I wonder who join her in her FB supports👀
Irina Eustacia Fraldarius
Shield of the lioness
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This took me soo long.
In her FB support would include Felix, Sylvain and maybe another hero. She would try to connect with her brother and try to get close to him throughout the FB, but since he is Fr before the war Irinas birth around three years away.
The other Characters would include
- Elizaveta Galina Blaiddyd - Lady of the lions
- Coenrad Rodrigue Blaiddyd - Prince of the lions
- Eckhard Eydis - Lions Vassal
If we go with the trend of one Ascended / Rearmed with the group, either Coenrad(as one of the main characters of my story) or Elizaveta as another important character and the crown princess and heir of Faerghus
The other house leaders and their NH set:
Golden Deer
- Ayla von Riegan - Golden successor (As/Re)
- Neva (von Riegan) - Mischievous Princess (As/Re)
- Rosamond von Hevring - Aspiring Mage
- Cornelius Gloucester - Voice of Reason
Green Wyvern
- Inessa - Emerald Soul (As/Re)
- Vincent Elias Gautier - Wyverns Lance
- Marina Alexia Fraldarius - Bow of the north
- Mattias von Aegir - Soft-spoken Sage
But if I only make Inessa an option, Coenrad and Ayla should also be the As/Re of their banners
13 notes · View notes
devil-doll13 · 1 year
Text
Wax & Wane
(Part 3)
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Tw: Violence, Blood, Gun, Swearing, References To Scars/Past Wounds, Medical Stitching, Bo being Bo, also Bo & Percy get ever so slightly suggestive w/ their PDA lol.
Ellie who is mentioned here belongs to @rottent33th!
Percy belongs to @the-pinstriped-hood, also thankyou Pin for your help in writing her and all the great ideas and excerpts you offered to me in this!
Summary: Percy awakes to find an invader in her home and must bargain with her in order to survive. In turn, she finds herself connecting with the mysterious girl.
Part 1
Part 2
Dividers by firefly-graphics
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A loud door slam from downstairs woke her rather suddenly from her peaceful dreaming, and the psychedelic mountain biking trip she’d been taking gave way to the fine grain of a table and darkened rows of books. A familiar sight.
Percy looked up from where her cheek was nestled on the silver laptop and, rubbing her bleary eyes, saw how her dashing hero Halloran had gone from wittily chatting up her newest femme fatale character to babbling incoherently, including various numbers, hash signs and exclamation marks.
Well, she always said that he’d developed a mind of his own. Turns out he’d learned to speak in tongues.
Clicking on an antique lamp she once scavenged from one of the old abandoned houses, she roused herself from the wooden chair she’d pulled up in the library, stretching luxuriously. Her glasses had left a thin indent on the side of her head where they’d been left askew. Readjusting them now, she realised she couldn’t see Macavity anywhere… Maybe he was snoozing on her and Bo’s shared bed? Percy stifled a yawn as she leaned back against the well-loved bookshelves. She had gotten up from her seat a little too quick and now she felt slightly lightheaded and dizzy. Her vision swam around for a while.
She clapped her laptop shut and wandered into the dimly-lit landing, joints still popping. Her work ethic meant falling asleep at the desk wasn’t rare for her, but it always left her with a not-so-pleasant ache afterward.
“...Honey?” She called out sleepily.
Percy peaked around various doorways upstairs, searching for her bad-tempered lover. She supposed he was still down in the kitchen or living room…
The door slamming didn’t worry her - Bo had his stormy moods at times but he would never be violent or abusive towards her - but she did feel a twinge of motherly concern tug at her heartstrings. Was it a victim? An argument with Vincent? It was usually at least one of those two things, in her experience. She'd learned her Bo-ology so well by now.
She descended the creaking staircase, still wiping the post-nap gunk from her eyes. It was one of those old fancy ones done in a winding spiral; something Percy had always liked about this house. A yellowy fluorescent light coming from the kitchen told her Bo was probably raiding the fridge right about now.
I wonder if he found my gift yet?
She grinned to herself cheekily, remembering the big sandwich she told him she would prepare for him earlier. Had all of his favourites in it and everything; mayo, onion, tomato, lettuce, all the fancy meats, she had even made the bread from scratch herself. Percy knew he would love it. All she could think about was lounging in his lap like a spoiled cat and having him all to herself for the night…
There was no time to prepare for it. Percy swallowed thickly as a large kitchen knife pressed harshly against her throat, and her blood froze. She felt her windpipe constrict as her body was immobilised, arms forced behind her back.
I’m being held hostage. By an intruder. Breathe.
"Excuse me..?" She asked in the gentlest voice she could muster. "Can I help you?"
“Yes, you can.” A sharp voice hissed from behind her ear like a serpent; blowing an icy puff of air that caused her to shiver. “Be my little flesh shield.”
The lightbulb surged a vile green up above, blinding.
So bright. Bo. Everyone… Is this how Ellie felt?
“You don’t have to kill me.” She began, her mind racing with panicked thoughts.
The woman’s body felt eerily like a stiff, gelid corpse.
Be diplomatic. Be smart. Like Halloran…
“I can fix this, I’m part of the family, I-I know they’re after you. I can convince them to stop…”
The air was dead; putrid, necrotic.
“No. No.”
Her refusal chilled Percy in shock.
“See, here’s what’s going to happen here.”
Percy squeezed her eyes shut, wary of the lethal tip of the blade looming ever closer to her neck. If only she had her baseball bat right now, if only…
“When those two break down that door…”
It’s too cold. A vice grip clamped down on her shoulder like the bite of a viper. The dining table and chairs stacked were up against the other door. Oh. Bo’ll have to-
“I’m the only one who’s getting out alive.”
Her mouth went dry. It seemed all her eloquence as an author left her now. The situation was dire; perhaps this would be it, this would be her end…
Then, Percy was made faintly aware of something warm seeping into the back of her flannel.
“You’re bleeding...” She licked her lips, pouncing on the opportunity. “Does it hurt?”
“…”
Percy couldn’t tell if the silence was a good sign or not, but she pressed it, her voice dipping into the warm, maternal tones she used on her ‘kids.’
If logic and rationality won’t get through to her, maybe emotional appeals will… She clung to hope that the invader wasn’t entirely heartless.
“It’s alright… I know it probably does. There’s a soothing balm in my bathroom cabinet that could help once we get it properly cleaned up.”
Her heart leapt as she felt the blade waver; unsure.
“If, if it’s a bad wound then it probably needs proper attention and stitches, or you’ll lose a lot of blood… There’s no clinic for miles around, so-“
She almost yelped as her grip twisted painfully, an almost electric crack flashing in the atmosphere as the lightbulb flickered a bright, sickly green again.
“You’re saying it would be better for me to let you do it, let you near me with a needle, is that what this is?” Percy could hear the incredulous sneer in her voice.
“So I should just let you sew me up?”
“…Yes.” Percy carefully kept herself calm, trying to ignore the sharpness pricking her neck.
“It would be safer for you. if you’ve already lost that much, you could g-get dizzy and faint before you even get to a hospital…”
“…”
“…I’d worry.” She added hastily.
That statement was preposterous considering the circumstances, but she found herself genuinely empathising with her. After all, if she hadn’t been lucky and made a deal with the devil, wouldn’t she have been in the exact same position back then?
A mixture of logic and emotion.
There was a weighty stillness as Percy waited with bated breath for her response. She hoped that she was at the very least contemplating her offer.
“And I promise not to do anything else but patch you up, okay?” She reassured gently, feeling the woman slightly loosen her hold on her.
“You can even keep the knife.”
While this bargain was fairly risky for her, it seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Her body screamed out in relief as her arms were released from the uncomfortable entanglement and she felt like she could actually breathe again. She blinked back her numbness as the Louisiana heat returned slowly to the kitchen, melting the frost that had glazed over the walls and countertops.
How…? It’s Summer…
That question lingered hazily in her mind, but her gladness for freedom soon overtook it. She had barely registered the strange phenomena from earlier…
It was then Percy slowly rotated her position and got her first glimpse of the other woman. It was a disturbing sight: she was hunched over and gaunt, much shorter than she expected, with green eyes, dark, knotted hair and grey-ish, pasty skin; a sort of unhealthy pallor she misattributed to blood loss.
“Stay there,” the corpse-like stranger instructed, still holding up her knife menacingly towards Percy as she moved to shut the door she had come through. “And don’t move.”
“Alright…” She obeyed, holding up both her hands in willing surrender.
Percy watched the steel handle of her baseball bat, sitting ready in the hall, disappear from view. The intruder retrieved one of the dining table chairs from her barrier and, that unsettling gaze never leaving the other woman’s form, sat down rigidly.
“I’ll sit,” her captor said quietly, noticeably wincing as she did so, “and you…”
“…I’ll go get the medkit.” Percy finished for her, nodding in agreement.
Percy saw a vast array of scattered medical supplies spread over the kitchen countertops, which told her that the intruder had obviously found their stash, but she clearly wasn’t an effective nurse. She allowed herself to relax a little now that she was no longer under direct pressure from the weapon, and then proceeded to inspect her new patient: she was gruesomely scratched and bruised; crimson stained bandages wrapped were haphazardly around her arms and thighs, which had already had a nauseating amount of scars carved out of them to begin with.
She cautiously tip-toed over to the supply, taking care not to make any sudden movements, as if trying not to startle a wild, wounded animal.
In a sense, that is what she is…
Percy approached her with the needle and thread in her open palms to show she was not concealing anything, but when she tried to gently pry open her crossed arms to look at her injuries, she flinched violently away from her hands as if burned, and silently threatened a stabbing.
“Look, I only want to help you…”
Her words were met with a suspicious glower.
The woman’s behaviour reminded her distinctly of a dog who had been frequently beaten, now accustomed only to painful and contemptuous touch. With that comparison, she no longer seemed like someone to fear, but rather more sadly pathetic.
With a weary sigh, her captor eventually relented. Slowly, Percy was allowed to gain access to her knife wound, which was ironically located by the same arm whose hand held her own blade, jabbing out warningly near her hip.
“If it helps, my name is-“
“Don’t,” the intruder interrupted, twitching her fingers restlessly around the handle.
“Names have… Power. It’s not wise to give them away so freely to someone like me.” She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, as if fighting off a migraine.
…Someone like you?
“…You’ll probably figure it out soon anyway.” Percy argued back gently, reminding herself that Bo was probably still scouring over Ambrose for her…
She watched the black-clad woman hack a ragged cough, her free hand flying to her mouth to contain blood and spittle.
Does she have an internal injury too?
“But I would not receive it from your own words. That is the difference…” She wheezed hoarsely.
Percy furrowed her brow as she continued to meticulously thread the needle through her wounded flesh, minding her occasional sharp intake of breath. She proceeded to dab away the dribbles of blood that would trickle out of the cut with a tissue.
Then… Is there any hope I will learn hers?
For a brief moment the future seemed uncertain, and she puzzled in her head for ways to reconcile all the conflicting persons at war here. Of course her immediate goal was survival and so far she had achieved that, but as she finished the suture on the woman’s knife wound, her sympathy grew further. Percy’s empathy was one her finest traits, and there was indeed a side to her that wanted to adopt yet another little waif; certainly everyone in Ambrose had their own story to tell, without her family to take her in, she herself wouldn’t have found her place here.
A brilliant idea revealed itself to Percy then.
“So…” She began, switching places to tend to the bullet graze on her other arm. “Do you like to read?”
“…Do I like to read?” She echoed back, blinking owlishly. It was a sort of childlike reaction that almost made her chuckle, despite her situation.
“Yeah!” Percy replied.
The girl knit her brows in deep thought for a moment, peering at her askance before seemingly deciding that this would not be overly sensitive intel.
“…I do. But why ask this?”
Is it so strange to want to know more about the person currently holding me hostage?
“Because,” Percy cleared her throat, brushing stray strands of hair away from her face as she finished patching up her other wound. “I’m a novelist.”
Her captor gave her a dubious stare, but Percy thought she detected a hint of rising curiosity in her eyes.
“I write noir style mysteries, if that rings any bells?”
She shook her head in response.
“Be more specific.”
Percy smiled a little. “Well, I was just wondering… If I told you the title of my book series, would you be able to guess my name from that?”
“…Maybe.”
She let her grin grow wider. Her interest was piqued; maybe talking about Percy’s favourite pursuit would ease the uncomfortable atmosphere.
“It’ll be better for you to sit down, in that case.”
Percy was then surprisingly allowed to retrieve her own dining chair, (under the obvious condition that she would not use it to bash her brains in) and pulled it up beside her in the kitchen. Now the knife lay harmlessly on the floor, just beside the woman’s scuffed boot.
“Actually,” her captor began, and Percy’s heart sank a little before she continued: “Telling me the answer would be too simple. I’d prefer to solve it with clues.”
…So first you hold me at knifepoint, and now we’re playing games? Percy was frazzled for a moment. This was… really not the turn of events she was expecting. The girl’s wan face held a grimly serious countenance, revealing no hints of playfulness or amusement. Once more, she was reminded of a sort of overgrown child, albeit a dangerous one.
“That’s fine.” She decided with a shrug, glad for her strange enthusiasm. That was better than a threat. “I guess I can make it into a puzzle for you.”
The woman’s green eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes. A mystery novelist should find no difficulty in that.”
“No, I guess she shouldn’t.”
“Then go ahead.”
Percy sucked in a breath. “The protagonist… Is considered very attractive.”
Just like Bo… His blue eyes flashed in her mind.
The girl clicked her tongue in a sort of defeated annoyance. “Well, that rules out ‘Phantom Jar.’”
Oh, I remember that series, we were neck and neck in book sales for a while…
“…It’s not ‘Donovan Fletcher?’”
“No.” Percy shook her head, smirking.
J.C. Price has nothing on me, sorry.
“They’ve been a suspect before,” she offered.
“‘Sub Rosa?’ ‘Void Library?’ ‘The Scarred Poet?’”
“None of those!”
She appeared to be deep in thought for a moment. Percy was mildly impressed by this selection, remembering sifting through them herself. The formidable talent that made up her competition was not to be scoffed at; and all writers are avid readers.
Although TSP was kind of a flop, Sub Rosa is practically a cult novel…
The intruder gripped the bottom of her chair like she was being asked to solve some kind of impossible maths question. Percy decided to throw her a bone.
“I’ll give you another hint: ‘Ice Drops‘”
This obscure reference seemed to click with her.
“It’s Midnight Papertrail…” She murmured, a sort of awe-filled realisation dawning on her face as she looked back up at Percy.
“…By Persephone Jones.”
“Yep! That’s me.” Percy smiled back happily. It was then she had realised she’d almost relaxed all tension from her body, and her captor mirrored this.
The intruder tilted forward, holding her knees.
“You’re Persephone Jones?”
“Yeah, I am, though most here just call me ‘Percy.’” She pushed up her faltering glasses. “I came here about… A couple of years ago?”
Percy saw her shocked expression and laughed.
“You’re probably wondering how I survived, right?”
Her captor nodded soberly, evidently finding no lack of things to criticise about the Sinclairs’ rather unique concept of ‘Southern Hospitality.’
“Let’s just say… I made a deal with the devil.” Percy leaned back in her chair, for now content to leave it at that. Eventually she’d figure that one out…
Then the dark-haired woman cast her a weighty gaze that struck Percy, again, as unusually grave.
“…A deal with which De-“
Then, a raucous slamming from the hallway, the stomping of boots, and a heavy weight banged hard on the door, followed by a masculine yell and beside her clattering of wood on tiles as her captor shot instantly to her feet, knife in hand!
Percy jumped from her seat in fright, her breath stolen so abruptly from her lungs…
“Percy! Percy!” Bo’s voice shouted out as a series of fierce kicks assaulted the door so viciously that it rattled the dining table pushed against it across the kitchen floor. A terrible silence followed and Percy’s gut dropped, knowing that if he had his shotgun, she’d be caught in the blast!
“Bo!” Percy yelled quickly, “I’m in here!”
“PERCY!”
She could hear the raw desperation in his voice as he screamed, pounding the wood even harder now, frantically jiggling the knob.
“N-no, It’s fine, I’m fine!”
Percy shot a glance at the other woman, who had now abandoned her chair as it lay sideways on the floor. Her venomous green eyes were fixed intensely on the handle, fingers still curled tightly around the large knife.
I don’t know why, but that lock has something to do with you, doesn’t it?
“Stop!” She ordered, no longer afraid of her wrath. “You’re only making things worse!”
Percy came to stand in front of her, blocking her line of sight with her taller figure. “Listen, I can fix this situation, but I need you to cooperate!”
“Will he?!” The girl spat through gritted teeth.
“Yes, he will because it’s me!”
Then, the raucous shattering of glass as a large hand punched through the kitchen window, and Vincent’s waxy visage appeared.
They must have staged a pincer attack…
His black boot kicked away the remaining shards as he attempted to vault the newly created opening. The woman ducked behind Percy and threw her knife straight at him, which he deflected smoothly, his blue eye blazing with protective fury.
She snatched up a knife block and drew up another, notably serrated blade. Though her negligence led the kitchen door flying open and revealing Bo with his double-barrel shotgun, she faced down both twins as if ready to fight to the death.
“You witch, you get the fuck away from her!” He hollered, brandishing his shotgun in rage. His nostrils flared in realising Percy was close enough to be hurt!
“Bo, stop!” Percy waved her hands, hurrying to stand between all of them. “She’s fine!”
“…What?!” He gawked at her in complete disbelief.
Bo had no choice but to halt his plan to fire with Percy shielding his target, who consequently looked as dazed and confused as he did.
“She‘s fine,” Percy repeated, strangely out of breath. “Bo, Vincent, stop, she’s not going to go to the police!”
Well, I don’t know that yet, but…
“I’m not hurt, look!” She urged, gesturing to herself.
There was no concealing the worry that lined his face as he did so, and Vincent himself stood stock still, muscles still taut as if to strike.
“I… Wha…”
He seemed at a loss for words as he looked to his brother, then to his would-be-victim, then back to Percy, his aim faltering somewhat.
“Look, everyone, it’s all going to be fine,” Percy repeated, “Just calm down…”
The woman drew in a sharp breath behind her.
“No need for fighting.”
It was Vincent who broke the standoff first, lowering his knife, though still tense and poised for action. Percy noticed his clothes were scratched and frayed somewhat, but he did not appear injured in any capacity. He loomed menacingly over the intruder, who mirrored his black hair and pallor so much she almost looked like his little sister.
“… I … Perc, what the hell is goin’ on, here?” Bo spoke again, not daring to lower his gun. He was similarly unhurt, though sweating hard from exertion. His dark hair curled against his damp forehead, his mechanic’s coveralls soaked with wet spots.
Oh, he still looks far too handsome…
The intruder peered suspiciously over her shoulder at the two men, and Percy gave her a stern glance.
“Put the knife block away.” She ordered.
Percy knew that, exhausted as she probably was, it would be wiser to take this opportunity while it was still available. Clearly, she was smart enough to take it, and dropped the block where she stood, her narrowed eyes never leaving Bo’s. A selection of knives spilled out, clattering on the kitchen tiles.
Honestly, she’s just like a cat or something…
Still, she was mildly shocked that she held so much sway over her. Already, she appeared to have tamed this wayward child.
“See?” Percy looked to her fiancé again, watching him try to work out the situation in his head. His shotgun wavered slightly.
With a hitch of her breath, the girl concealed another cough, as if any sign of weakness would doom her, and lifted up her chair again. She seemed unable to relax, still glaring at the twins with unrestrained malice. Vincent retreated back into the shade, his long curtain of hair concealing his masked face.
Then Bo’s broad shoulders slumped in defeat, exhaling a shaky sigh. He seemed to start to speak once, then threw his hands up helplessly. Instead, he turned around and sluggishly opened the fridge.
His handsome features once again contorted in rage.
“You ate my fuckin’ sandwich?!” Bo whirled around to yell at the unnamed woman.
The intruder’s eyes popped open momentarily in a sort of shocked realisation. Still, she sent him a sharp, venomous glare to match his own.
“You ate my fuckin’ sandwich.” He repeated through angrily gritted teeth, fuming. “That Percy made for me.”
He slammed the door, and it shook the whole fridge from the heavy impact.
“Ya’ sure got some nerve walkin’ in here, sittin’ down on our goddamn chairs eatin’ our food, ya’ fuckin freak!” He spat, jabbing a finger in her direction.
“Well how about you consider it compensation for trying to murder me?” She hissed back, coiling up like a defensive snake.
Percy tensed up again. It seemed they both found it impossible not to fight.
“Both of you, stop…” She began, but…
“Is that right?” Bo ignored her in his fury.
“And what about all those cars you destroyed, huh? Or, I don’t know, the priceless piece of artwork ya’ messed with, you with your fuckin’ godless voodoo!”
…Voodoo…?
The woman rolled her eyes; in which Percy was unwillingly reminded of a petulant teenager.
“You should be grateful I showed mercy on you.” She sneered haughtily, somehow looking down on him even from her modest place on the chair.
“Oh, mercy?” Bo scoffed, a glint of dull amusement in his eye. “So that’s whatcha wan’ call it, huh? Alright. Alright…”
He shook his head, chuckling mirthlessly.
“Me, I’d call that runnin’ away like a wounded animal. Real pathetic like, I guess I got you scared. And not a hit on me, how lucky! In spite of all yer’ big talk.”
The girl’s face fell swiftly, but she said nothing in response. Her glare was withering, as if she hoped to disintegrate him on the spot.
“Ya’ got bloodstains fuckin’ everywhere, y’know. Vincent ain’t too pleased about that, let me tell you.” Bo pounced, seeing an opening; a chink in her armour.
(The man in question sent him a look from where he was silently watching the exchange, half-hidden by the darkened doorway.)
Bo lit up with a smile, as if he’d just had the most wondrous idea. “In fact, just maybe I’ll have you personally mop it off the goddamn floor so you can compensate me! Now how about that!”
He still kept his fingers curled around the wooden underside of his shotgun, and he gestured threateningly with it now, causing Percy’s heart to jump right up through her throat.
“How’s that bullet wound doin,’ by the way?” He smirked mockingly and thrust his chin forward in a taunt.
The intruder scowled.
“Just fine, seeing as your aim was so shit.” She grumbled quietly, holding a self-conscious hand tightly over the wound on her upper arm.
A bead of sweat appeared on Percy’s forehead as her eyes darted between the two hotly bickering, very dangerous individuals. She could practically feel the taut, barbed razor wire sizzling in the air, ready to snap at any moment.
This would not end well for anyone…
“Guys, please…” She tried to interject again, but…
“You sound so very defensive.” Another sharp retort cut through instead, as the intruder seemed to have recollected herself.
Percy goggled at the woman. She was trying to help her here, did she seriously want to get herself shot!?
She smirked. “I suppose you must feel quite ashamed, letting this single unarmed woman run figure eights around you and your lackey. Not exactly something to brag about, in my books.”
(It was then Vincent came to share his brother’s angry stare)
“I think you were afraid, Bo.” She spat out his name with acidic vitriol. “You needed that shoddy tool to fend off my… What did you call it? Voodoo? Hah!”
The witch laughed; a high-pitched, shrill cackle.
“Did that little stumble earlier remind you of that fact perhaps? Hm?” She batted her eyelashes with a coy head tilt, as if mocking the girls in his magazines.
Bo tightened his jaw, gnashing his teeth together with an unpleasant grinding sound. There was a joyless grin on his face that Percy recognised as one of murderous intent, bubbling just beneath the neatly groomed surface.
Oh, no, he’s going to-
“You should be grateful I don’t blow a fuckin’ hole through your ribcage right now, you little-“ He started, raising his gun as if to actually do so…!
Percy’s eyes practically bulged out of her head.
“Stop fighting!” She suddenly yelled, loud enough that both of them jumped in reaction. It was if they’d both forgotten she was there in the midst of their vicious banter.
“…Please.”
The green-eyed woman took a breath, the wooden chair squeaking as she leaned back. She refused to look at him, as it seemed he ultimately repulsed her. Bo huffed in indignation - clearly just as disgusted by her - but he backed down as well. He turned a kinder look to Percy now, softening his gaze.
“You alright, darlin…?” He offered, drawing her closer to him and away from the interloper.
“Yes, I’m completely fine.” Percy reassured him. “I just fell asleep in the middle of a paragraph, you should see the mess it made of my dear detective.”
“And don’t worry, I’ll make you another sandwich…”
"Y'promise?" Bo’s voice fell to a hushed whisper as they blocked out their audience, pressing her flush against himself.
She giggled a little, forgetting them all.
"Of course. I'll even melt the cheese this time!”
“An ice cold beer, bubble bath..." Percy whispered enticingly in his ear, feeling the heat creep up his neck. Vincent averted his gaze respectfully, shuffling his feet as if he no longer felt it necessary to be in the room anymore. The green-eyed woman sat gaping at the two, silenced.
“…You gonna join me?" Bo gave her a subtly pleading stare, reminding her of a begging puppy dog.
"Absolutely, honey. I'm just glad you're okay.” She purred, caressing his lapel. “Now c’mere…”
They shared a loving kiss, sealing an unspoken deal.
And that was how Percy convinced her begrudging fiancé to take in another stray.
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Bonus:
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(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @soupbabe, @bluecoolr, @flower-crowned-lady, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @solmints-messyocdiary)
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mllebabushkat · 1 year
Text
☀️ Warrior Nun S2E6 🌙
PSA: i didn't survive this ep lakdsj;gjaskjda
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haha my whiplash from Confusion to OH OH YOUNG SUZANNE
AND SHANNON
(wow i missed her and i barely knew her T^T)
so either shannon's older than i expected or superion is younger than i expected???
but more importantly
superion's halo is SO POWERFUL?????
she's got that a) touch of death palm technique Lite Version AND b) nifty overwatch lookin shield scuse me ava when will you
once again OST SLAPS
SHE IS SO BADASS!!,!,!,’cbnncbdbdbfj also cocky hahaha i love her
this fight's fave move: double neck skewer!
firstly, halo rejecting looks GNARLY
secondly, w h y (grief? fully drained? it somehow knew she failed to protect someone due to her own ego? severity of her own moral failing? i want. answers)
The PRIDE in bea’s look as ava talks 🤩 i am hanging on to every single avatrice interaction for my liFE
cam trying to summon the boogeyman is the horror trope i didn't know i needed ahahaha
MICHAEL'S GOT A NUKE tony stark lookin ass
"we are not both dying over some interdimensional power grab" u tell em!!!!1 (such a frustrating and common trope, why must the hero always be the sacrificial lamb for some lofty goal?)
yo that is one DIRTY look bea gave him tho lmfao
on today's episode of bullying william: "foster" what a dumb name L u delusional little shit
cut to vincent el bastardo
"and we shall contact god by text" the ABSURDITY PFFF
*what's in the box voice* what did adriel sayyyyyy????
obligatory fuck off adriel
picking out tmrws outfit slay boyo 🤡💁‍♀️is it me or does he look like Hugh Jackman with that new beard
back to the blessed blorbos!
team super cam aw <3
OH NO U DONT TOUCH HER GIRL LIKE THAT
protective!bea i'm swooningg
journalist!yasmine is so cuteeee
CAMILLA UR CHASTITY HAHAHAHAHHAA
clutching my pearls but also yes girliE GET SOMEEEEEEEE
is that the fuckin,, lalisa sonf? v hype but ngl doesn't fuuully fit the scene But i'll let it slide :)
“well then warrior nun, see you on the other side” 😍😍
you tell me that won't be one of her affectionate nicknames once they settle down and have their happily ever after i DARE you-
“do you know how i know that adriel isn't god, vincent? because he chose to speak to you” OUCHHHHHHHHHH
ok i'm calling it now that pointy cross is hanging Very Ominously over the stage,.,,
adriel choosing to mimic the medici’s bastardised image of Jesus the irony is not lost on me :)
so uhhhhhh why does the halo only sputter out at plot relevant moments? *shakes writers in frustration*
LILITHS TEETH VAGINA COSTUME
i'm so sorry but lilith girl they did u so fucking dirty wtf is this shitty look costumes dept u were doing so wellllll TAT
oh dear ava 🥺
yall there’s nothing that hurts me more than a well laid plan going wrong
lilith hurtling off the roof - HAHAHAHAHA YEET BITCH
where tf was ava hiding her helmet???? up her-?
kristian: “let it go” ah ofc they planned for this
insert it’s a trap !!!!!!!! meme
i can’t watch thissssssddsddd
oh boy the cross tip hanging ever lower like the sword of Damocles
I CALLED IT
nooooo rest in pieces duretti shdhdhajahgdhd
jesus that's brutal,, gnarly counter: 2
michael: "god isn’t real" maybe the true message all along was atheism :)
CAMILLA AND HER GUNNNNNN BIG BRAINNNNNN
AVA DESCENDING LIKE THE REAL ANGEL SHE IS
vincent seeing her-
lilith ex machina swooping in-
OK MICHAEL GOT A STAB IN gnarly counter: 3 (once again loving the gore this season !)
BOTH ava and michael choosing to sacrifice themselves in that moment PLS NO
ooh love the millisecond yellow sheen on adriels eyes
sister ARMS- sorry- i meant sister dora HELLO THERE
“come on pretty boy” ahahshdhdksjagahaha bea ily
back at base
ok fess up who's the goddamn snitch
(small eyeroll at the 'oops i destroyed the macguffin detonator' trope)
SUPERION NO
NO
NO
(did she die ????)
never has a cross been so hateful as the one drawn in blood fuck you william u little dipshit
SUPERION NO 😭😭😭😭
did lilith just save ava by teleporting her
jahdkclcpsjsxnxoxmxnsiskncc
this episode took my heart and shredded it in a meat grinder
superion has shot up my favourites list this season and for her to end like that-
and duretti!
but mostly superion TAT i'm suing for her And mary >:(((
ANYWAY
not keeping calm and carrying on-
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wellthebardsdead · 2 years
Text
Follow up from the previous Angel soldier au thinking of calling it Angel 76 in the future ~Bambi
———
Jack: *standing at the podium before the brand new Swiss hq, addressing the world about the new age of hero’s, how the opening of this headquarters marks a new beginning of peace and protection for all, all the while trying desperately to keep his wings from acting up* With the ribbon cutting out of the way and the tours to the public open for all are there any further questions.
Reporters: *frantically clambering over each other screaming intangibly to be heard but only making themselves harder to hear*
Jack: questions that aren’t about my wings.
Most of the reporters: *back off*
Jack: thank you. *sighs mumbling to himself* we live in a world with sentient machines and a half bird man is news worthy, pfft.
*a few hours later*
Jack: *stepping away from the crowds thinking he’s done only for the reporters to try following him now thinking it’s appropriate to ask about his new feathered appendages now he’s done answering all the other questions* I’m sorry I’ve got duties to attend to- *freezes in pain as his vision tunnels feeling a hand grab a couple of his flight feathers in an attempt to stop him or to just see if they’re real* I-
???: ALRIGHT HE SAID HES DONE! BACK OFF!
Jack: *looks back to see Gabriel and Vincent both heavily armed and intimidating as they push back the press* Gabe- v-Vince-
Vincent: *quickly hurries to him and helps him inside making it look like he’s just shielding him from view when he’s literally keeping him upright* shit shit shit shit-
Gabe: *watches them go with growing concern for his friend before looking back at the press* Why are you all still standing here? Fuck off!
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kogaracon · 1 year
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It's time for our first guest announcement of 2023! Please give a warm Kogaracon welcome to Vincent Corazza!
Vincent will be participating in a group panel and autograph signings during the event.
Mr. Corazza has had an impressive Voice-Over career recording thousands of commercials, and being the signature voice for many major networks including CBS; FOX: NBC; TBS, and USA, as well as the CBC in Canada to name a few. Currently he is the promo voice for The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.
Vince has played roles in numerous animated TV shows, most notably Darien Shields/Tuxedo Mask in the iconic Japanese Anime series Sailor Moon; Alden Jones on Braceface; Sam Sparks of Rescue Heroes; and Shickadance in Ace Ventura-Pet Detective, plus he’s been part of some of the most successful video game franchises of all time including Carlos Oliveira in Resident Evil 3; Zexion/Ienzo in Kingdom Hearts; and The Marquis De Lafayette in Assassins Creed III. His Narration credits are also numerous. They include James Cameron’s Last Mysteries of the Titanic, and DVD extras for Dreamworks animated Feature’s, from Bee Movie to Megamind to all the Shrek films, plus Kung-Fu Panda, Madagascar, and many more.
Vince was especially honored to play JON in a Groundbreaking project called ANOMALY, the largest Graphic Novel ever created and the first to use Augmented Reality.
For more info check him out at: www.vincentcorazza.com or follow him at Vincent Corazza and www.twitter.com/vincentcorazza!
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leanstooneside · 11 days
Text
Double Sledge
◊ Knot
◊ eyes In
◊ comparison
◊ The flavour
◊ pokes
◊ winds
◊ Or Vincent of the crown
◊ railwayshare
◊ show
◊ fer years
◊ prog
◊ Shalott
◊ Sink
◊ cheeks
◊ man's dominion
◊ Davy Jones This night
◊ corrt By the women o' Morble'ead
◊ Floyd Ireson
◊ noise
◊ holes
◊ mourning of the Swattish nation
◊ tellin
◊ mare
◊ morals
◊ Higgs raisedas
◊ lips
◊ mate What
◊ Sam
◊ Told
◊ Jes' lookin
◊ thread And wax
◊ job
◊ Faith
◊ curds
◊ shield
◊ The fust idee
◊ Wherein
◊ ledder
◊ fence
◊ Taint
◊ time
◊ Monsieur
◊ J. Burdette
◊ Is the Ahkond
◊ eye
◊ tap
◊ dinner? Say
◊ morning
◊ mizzen brace; Aloft
◊ knives
◊ swing fur
◊ gallant craft?' 'Oh
◊ rained
◊ lee
◊ The warranted
◊ dines
◊ carpetdrum
◊ hip; Ten feet
◊ turnips
◊ Ahkoond With the noise
◊ Wal
◊ cock'd
◊ for'ard
◊ neighbors
◊ The chance
◊ sorry trim
◊ goat'swhey
◊ dern rigiment
◊ seal
◊ hero of mine
◊ Billy's
◊ tip And
◊ Doun by the dykeside
◊ fuss
◊ The hand of God
◊ torn
◊ Beaten
0 notes
ashintheairlikesnow · 8 months
Note
Pls, Vince! Bring him some Latte, although he told you to shut it.❤️
Follows directly after this one
(also, @yet-another-heathen asked for heart palpitations for Jameson)
-
At some point he dozes back off. He's not sure when - he's sitting there hating himself and his stupid bullshit fucking legs and hating every single moment from the second Nanda had stopped short, looked at him sort of startled and said oh and then slumped sideways and gone down the stairs and... and it had all gone wrong, ever since, every single goddamn day.
Even when he'd thought it would get better, it didn't. He feels worse right now than ever.
Still.
He dozes off. Trash Cat lays down beside him, upside down with her ilttle paws bent in the air and her soft belly showing. Then she gets up and leaves again, padding silently down the hallway to go have violent daydreams about the birds in the trees outside.
He doesn't dream - he's not quite deeply asleep enough for that. But he's trapped somewhere at a distance from the pain, and it feels so good to even have that small slim barrier between him and his legs that he could cry from gratitude.
There's a time when maybe he slips totally under the surface.
The next thing he knows, there's a hand on his shoulder.
Jameson's eyes snap open.
Before he can even take into account what he sees, he's already throwing the punch with one hand. The other is under his pillow, closed around the handle of the knife.
His fist clocks Vincent Shield right over his left eye, sending him stumbling backwards into a small dresser, his arms pinwheeling, but he just slams back-first into it and then hits the ground. "Shit!"
It's his voice that brings Jameson back to reality. Wide-eyed, he sits up in bed with the knife brandished in one hand, the other aching with the aftermath of the hit. "... Vince?"
"Mmmf. Yeah." Vince's face is white, his cheek already turning bright red where Jameson's fist connected. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and he looks... terrified... of Jameson.
There's a necklace Allyn likes to wear but forgot on their last visit. It fell off the dresser and it currently lays draped over Vince's head like some kind of weird tiara, the pendant resting over his forehead.
Vince's voice shakes when he speaks. "You don't pull your punches, huh?"
Jameson's whole chest is cold. He swallows, hard, thinking of how Jake had fallen with a knife in him, the look on his face when Jameson had come back to himself and realized what he'd done. His heart stops - maybe beats slightly out of time - and he hitches a trembling inhale that feels like it whistles down his throat but stops somewhere before his lungs. "Oh fuck," He whispers. "Oh fuck. I'm sorry, oh shit-... fuck, Vince, shit-"
Vince's eyes go to the knife, but he doesn't move to run or even to get up. He just stays sitting right where he is. His hands are shaking, just a little. Jameson is reminded that that Owen Grant asshole used to knock Vince around, too.
Still.
The millionaire movie star inexplicably getting sober in Nat's house manages a smile. Slightly appeasing, a little bit scared. "You, uh... you good?"
"... no. No, I'm not. I'm not. Shit. Fuck! I could have stabbed you!"
"Didn't, though. Could you... put the, uh, the knife down, please?" Vince takes a deep breath, and then another. With every moment, he looks calmer - and Jameson feels increasing guilt edged with panic.
"Uh. Fuck. Yes. Yes, yeah, of course-" He slips the knife back under his pillow, and closes his eyes against the tears that threaten there.
"Besides," Vince says, groaning a little, "This one's probably my fault." He rubs at the back of his neck, picking the necklace out of his hair and setting it down on the floor beside him. "I'm the dumbass who woke a sleeping rescue without, like, calling from the doorway or something first. That was dumb. Damn it, Nat talked to me about this!"
Jameson feels... so much worse. Nat had to warn Vince about him? Of course she did. Because he's already stabbed somebody once. He almost hurt Nat, too, when he thought she was Robert. He could do it again, at any time. Any moment now. To anyone. His heart skips again and he coughs, it feels like the weird flip goes right up his throat. "She-... she did? About me?"
"What? No, not you specifically. When I first started coming around, like... a decade ago. She told me not to wake anyone up like this. Jesus, I'm an idiot."
Jameson is still trying to catch up to the waking world, and his legs are trying to drag him back down into the ache. He fights to stay present, here and now. "Why... why did you wake me up?"
"Uh. Well. Seems stupid now but..." Vince gestures over at the side table beside Jameson's bed. "I got you some coffee."
"You... what?"
"You wanted to go out for coffee, but then when I came by earlier it sounded like you were having a rough time, so I thought... you know. I'd bring some back. For you."
Jameson looks over, and sure enough - there's a thermos there, and when he leans down, he can smell the rich coffee aroma wafting up and out. "... I am such an asshole."
Vince considers that. "Sometimes."
"I yelled at you this morning."
"You did, yes."
"I told you to fuck off."
"A couple of times."
"Then I punched you in the fucking face when you brought me coffee-"
"No, you punched me in the face because I put my hand on you when you were in a dead sleep, knowing that people putting hands on you when you didn't ask for it is like half the reason you live here now." Vince smiles, and it's smaller and more tired than his magazine-photoshoot smile, but it's far more sincere. Jameson likes it more. "I'm sorry, Jameson. I didn't mean to scare you. God, I want a drink so bad right now. I was trying to drink coffee instead. Got stuck in kind of a cycle thinking about-... you know, Owen, this morning, and I thought coffee would help, but really what I want is a drink, you know?
"Yeah, I kind of do, except for me it's usually that I want a really good deep dicking-"
"Aaaaaand the sweet moment of bonding is gone." Vince turns a little red and gets to his feet, carefully, using the dresser for balance. He leans over to pick up the necklace and put it back where it was before. "Please never say the words 'deep dicking' in front of me again."
"What, you never want that?"
Vince closes his eyes, but he's still smiling, and so is Jameson. Some of the tension is gone, and some of the guilt and anger twisting inside of him goes with it. "Jameson-... Some days, there is literally nothing else I want in the whole world than to let someone in my bed again. But the idea of anyone touching me like Owen did makes me feel like cutting all my skin off."
"... oh. I've never felt like that. Even after Brute and Robert, I still like fucking. I guess that's the whole... like, natural slut thing-"
"I swear to God, you sound like Kauri used to sometimes, when I'd overhear him when I came by."
"I mean, we were both the same Designation-"
"... you know what, drink your coffee. I'm going to go put ice on my eye."
Jameson is struck every time by how utterly normal Vince looks, until he puts on the Vincent Shield Face, changes his posture, morphs into Celebrity Actor Millionaire Man. But you'd never know that, looking at this tired-looking man in his late forties just wishing life would stop throwing punches.
"Vince, I really am sorry."
Vince shrugs. "Me, too. But hey - I look more rugged and manly this way, right?" He disappears out the door, and Jameson shifts to get himself braced against the headboard and his pillows, one leg twitching with nerve pain, but at least the other has calmed down to the usual dull ache he can handle.
He picks up his coffee and takes a sip. It's still hot like it's freshly made, and he exhales slowly, closing his eyes.
How long will it take to stop being ready to throw a punch when someone wakes him up after he falls asleep alone?
What if it never stops?
What if he throws a punch at Allyn?
He drowns the fear in hot coffee and hopes it stays away long enough for him to drag himself to the bathroom for a shower.
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aidendh · 5 months
Text
BSD! OC! Tarou Edogawa | P2
He is often accompanied by his colleagues, mostly Kyoushi
He knows how to use a flip phone
Tarou claims people by first name basis
He is best friends/rivals with Kyouba and Vincent
He loves pulling the Aki-sama card
His mementos shadow has freckles and isn't too different in personality, except it goes on about knowing the future and can't wait for it to play out
In Paris, he and Kyoushi do private detective work and research into Hawkmoth
After Rogercop, Sabrina and her father start interning/working at the temporary agency
He often snacks on fruit
Tarou's Shadow sometimes replaces Yozo's cognition of him, both Tarou's and Yozo's Shadows seemingly having a close link
Ranpo meets Fukuzawa a few months after Tarou's death
Tarou doesn't realize the other Incarnates don't remember, mistaking Yozo for a Second instead of Third
Before joining the agency, Tarou and his brother lived in his school dorms
Afterwards, they both moved into the Tower's dormitory
When he's older, he cuts his brown hair into a tuft
-:Vincent vs Tarou:-
The Agency finds a mysterious letter at their office door addressed to 'The World's Most Greatest Detective'
(Having been delivered by Kit the raccoon)
Once hearing of this, Tarou immediately claims it, though this results in an argument in who it could be addressed to, only for Yozo to sigh at his Ability's activation, he confirms it is for Tarou
Tarou opens the letter and proceeds to solve a bunch of riddles to figure out it's contents
It details a location and a plus one invite, Tarou with no hesitation chooses their doctor, Takeo Kagami
-
At the location he has to solve a Rune puzzle to enter a room and they finally meet Vincent, who struggles to monolog only to give up and hand them a script
The rest of this scene goes similar to cannon
-
Tarou and Kagami get trapped in Vincent's fantasy mystery novel
Tarou is a traveling detective with tracker magic that manifests as discs
Kagami is a doctor with minor healing magic and a shield which she can use as a catalyst
Vincent is the 'magic-less' bartender and the murderer with teleportation magic
At least once, Vincent chuckles to himself while facing away from the investigation, while behind the bar
Still a locked room mystery with multiple deaths throughout the novel, including the doctor
Because of his lack of glasses, Tarou often misses things, showing that he has an actual need for them
The Ranpo-Glasses scene is replaced with Tarou's Butterfly Tie-Clip
During his time without his Tie-Clip, Tarou will often disassociate and loose himself in the character and therefore do things he would never normally do in the characters name, until Kagami's character's death
Upon receiving Kagami's butterfly ordainment, he snaps back into himself with his green eyes and solves the mystery the 'Tarou way'
Solveing the mystery involves outside knowledge from the Protagonist when they were a reader in the cursed library
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Despite the two's rivalry, they had only recently met earlier in the year when Vincent was a guest author at Tarou's middle school
Tarou had gotten Vincent's signature that day, and later figured out the butterfly connection
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During the Gifted War, the fight against Kamui is replaced with Nagisa
Tarou (as Syunnosuke) afterwards finds Atsushi and calls him out on being the traitor, only to get killed afterwards
Despite having an escape plan with Vincent, Atsushi stops holding back and kills Tarou in an instant, leaving Vincent too terrified to do or say anything
Atsushi then steals the Snake Miraculous for his Uncle Naoto
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Tarou Edogawa (20)
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A Intuitive Detective with a strange method of solving cases
Miraculous: Yellow Bracelet
Confidant: Emperor
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Shadow! Tarou  (20)
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A Side Character who sometimes visits Yozo's Circus
Treasure: Butterfly tie-clip
Death: Blunt head trauma
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Syunnosuke (俊乃介) (19-20)
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A Miraculous Hero helping in mores ways than one
Power: Second Chance* 5 minute time loop
Miraculous: Bracelet (left wrist)
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theherosreturn · 1 year
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Braldey, to the fake Jackrow during the extra-long charge (for maximum power): If the Fatalis did kill him, he would’ve been incinerated or eaten while, not decapitated. Besides, knowing him, something or someone ended up doing something to invoke his desire to aid others and averted that fate anyways, and he’s a stronger lad than he thinks. (At that moment, a certain crazed mercenary sneezed, as if he was mentioned) *looks to everyone else* If you can come along and choose to do so, I feel like I’ll be piercing the barrier with this so be ready! *looks at Irida, Ratha, Emir, and Joan in particular* Irida, you and your Glaceon should stay on Ratha. (Irida, ready to leave this place: Understood!) Emir, I’ve noticed that you can fly well enough, so follow Ratha. (Emir: Aigas! (That’s a sound of confirmation) Joan, Ratha, you both know what to do. (Joan, now wearing a kite like a glider: I’m ready!)
(After Ratha roars in agreement, the extra powerful Limit Break was unleashed…and immediately pierced through the Analog Beast upon impact, dispelling the various monsters and causing it to fall apart. Bradley kept flying, soon followed by everyone who could come along and wished to at this exact moment (A.N. I’m not sure Mimic, Whank, and Mr. Drew can come along, so I’ll leave that to you), and soon was careening towards the final, now weakened barrier. Soon, he was basically ramming into it. In the merged universes, a crack in the sky started to form, a distinct orange color. All paused to look at it, even the crystal zombies that Sam had unleashed…and soon enough…it broke, releasing an ethereal blue dragon that was followed by a few hard to see entities. Those who didn’t recognize it were in shock…but those who did recognize Dragonsong Dive realized something, to their dread for villains…and immense relief and hope for heroes. Why? The Warrior of Light…was back.)
(A.N. Let’s have a battle scenario with some characters who joined in through the Adventureverse be particularly seen…alongside Jackrow’s reaction to this)
(Note: Mimic can't really come since he's still yet to figure out how to exactly "leave" the In-between Realm, Mr. Drew can only go back to the Ink realm, and Whank actually does come along with the others!)
Molly, with Giovanni's old "Vincent Murder" outfit protecting herself and her bear hoodie: Is...Is that who I think it is?...
Ross: Told you he was tougher than anything Sam brought in his way!
Jackrow:...I'll be damned...He's actually back!...
Khan, who was blocking a bunch of gunfire with his metal door shield: Guys! I could use a little help!!...*The fight between The Crystallized Ones and a group of Savage Scavengers and C.I. was becoming more and more intense by the second*
(Meanwhile with Enchantress Pink and the others)
*While Lightshow Yellow was busy cheering up the tired Sarah Henderson (Needlemouse) and the mentally anguished Jack Walten (Bon the Rabbit)...Enchantress Pink was floating towards Martin Greywhinder in an ethereal way that oozed out malice*
Martin, while fruitlessly hoping they didn't see what he's done in the past: T-Thank you for freeing me from that awful monstrosity and stopping that strange Samuel fellow from turning all of my creations into nightmarish monsters-!
Enchantress Pink, after immediately ensnaring the wicked man in holy golden chains: SHUT. UP. *She floated directly into his face and glared directly into his rotten soul* You are guilty for murdering your entire family and all for the sake of supposedly creating the "Perfect Toy"...How do you plead?...
Martin Greywhinder:...Not guilty??....*Enchantress Pink simply stared at the man and let him go...Only to reveal that she had secretly teleported him into a closed off room where his creations were free to maim him in order to finally be set free...His ghostly wife watched as the mechanical monstrosities got closer and closer to him* No...No! Stay back!! I said stay ba-AAAACK!!!!
*They all tore him apart*
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Sarah, after Enchantress Pink returned without that vile monster of a man:...Is he gone?...
Enchantress Pink: I've given The Family the chance to finally be set free and rest...Now it's both your turns to rest as well...
Jack Walten:...Will I get to see my family again?...*She nodded...They both had finally letted go of their grief and anger...setting them and every other spirit in their respective worlds free...*
Enchantress Pink, while smiling as they both began fading away: Rest well...You all deserve it...
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demoantique · 2 years
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Eevee heroes booster box
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However, that set may be based on a future Japanese set. We are also getting a special 25th anniversary set later this year that we know nothing about. For example, it could become part of our November set to celebrate the release of Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl (as the set features Glaceon VMAX and Leafeon VMAX). Each Eevee Heroes booster box contains 30 packs of cards Each pack contains 5 cards All cards in this booster box are Japanese Booster boxes are unopened & will arrive in original factory seal. Right now it’s too early to know how the set will release overseas. It will retail for 11,330 yen, or around $107. The set will also see the release of a special bundle package named the “ Eeveelution Set.” It will come with two booster boxes of Eevee Heroes, a set of 64 card sleeves, a deck box, a card storage box, and the VMAX promo pack. The set will feature 69 cards before secret rares. It will feature all eight Eeveelutions as Pokemon V - Vaporeon V, Jolteon V, Flareon V, Espeon V, Umbreon V, Glaceon V, Leafeon V, and Sylveon V. (Maybe we’ll get one for each Eeveelution? Oh Arceus…)Īs posted before, Eevee Heroes is Japan’s S6a set and releases on May 28th. Eevee will also be on the booster pack, but since it’s not getting a Pokemon V in this set, it’s hidden in the background.Įevee Heroes will boast a high number of special art cards. Umbreon and Sylveon will be most prominent. My first box, ordering 1 box at a time did come in a bubble mailer. My box was good enough that I felt it warranted ordering a 2nd. The booster pack’s artwork will feature all eight Eeveelutions. Please note this item's price may vary, we are carefully following the Japanese market price to offer you the best price possible. The hits in this box were comparable to the Evolving Skies box I opened with all of the hits being the eeveelution V, Vmax, Full Art, and Alt arts I love in Evolving Skies. This is to appeal to fans who don’t play the actual TCG.
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With these Puzzle cards you can play a standalone puzzle game that utilizes art and effects from the card game. Like all gold cards, Inteleon will be shiny.Įach 5-card booster pack will come with a new “Puzzle” card, meaning there will be six cards per booster pack. The set’s gold Pokemon card will be Inteleon from Sword and Shield. Each bundle will also include eight Eevee Heroes booster packs. You will get one of the four promos inside a special VMAX booster pack along with three matching reverse holo Energy cards. Flareon VMAX will be a Single Strike Pokemon, Vaporeon VMAX will be a Rapid Strike Pokemon, and Espeon VMAX will have an Ability. The set’s bundle product we previously revealed, the “ VMAX Special Set – Eevee Heroes,” will feature either Vaporeon VMAX, Jolteon VMAX, Flareon VMAX, or Espeon VMAX as full art promos. The set will feature Umbreon VMAX, Leafeon VMAX, Glaceon VMAX, and Sylveon VMAX. Pokemon Card Game Sword & Shield S6a Eevee Heroes Booster Pack (12 BOX Set) This will include 12 booster boxes of the new Eevee Heroes Pokemon card set. We keep the energy, and common/uncommon cards then send you everything else such as rares, holos, reverse holos, and ultra rares. We will open the entire box and all of its packs live on Twitch. Excludes: Africa, South America, Russian Federation, Albania, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Liechtenstein, Macedonia, Malta, Moldova, Montenegro, Romania, San Marino, Slovakia, Ukraine, Antigua and Barbuda, Aruba, Bahamas, Barbados, Belize, British Virgin Islands, Cayman Islands, Costa Rica, Dominica, Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Grenada, Guadeloupe, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Jamaica, Martinique, Montserrat, Netherlands Antilles, Nicaragua, Panama, Puerto Rico, Saint Kitts-Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Trinidad and Tobago, Turks and Caicos Islands, Virgin Islands (U.S.We’ve been given teaser information to share about the upcoming Eevee Heroes set! This purchase includes a Eevee Heroes booster box.
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buggy-about-town · 2 years
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Betrayal
Thought I would go back to my old manga drawing style for this piece! Inspired by @ashintheairlikesnow ‘s Vincent Shield and Owen Grant
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