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geekgirles · 3 years

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Your Heart

Chapter 5 -- Research

Word Count: 12429

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“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Tucker complained for the umpteenth time.

After realising the only way to end his regular meetings with Lady Arcana once and for all would be finding information on the portals she could use to help him close them, Danny took a very-Jazz-like decision; to immerse himself in countless moldy, old books in search for answers.

Only he dragged Tucker and his sister along to put an end to the torture sooner. A decision which, whereas Jazz encouraged wholeheartedly, Tucker was none too pleased with.

“Oh, quit your whining, Tucker.” Jazz admonished from the floor, a few volumes piled up around her. “Every time you complain, it’s precious time we’re wasting. Maybe I don’t mind being holed up here reading with you, but something tells me you’d much rather be tinkering with your PDA than doing this.”

Annoyed by Jazz’s accurate observation, Tucker, who was lying down on his bed, set the book he was reading down on his lap. “I’m just saying, a quick Internet search would give us many more results in a matter of seconds. If you’re worried about wasting time, then I think spending hours scanning for even the smallest piece of witch-related trivia is ten times more time-consuming.”

But Jazz wasn’t going to relent any time soon. “We already tried things your way, Tucker. Remind me again how much useful information we found online?” When her question was met by silence, she smirked, focusing again on the book she had open on the floor in front of her. “Thought so.”

“Okay, so the first few results were all about conspiratorial nutcases claiming the witches are actually aliens from a faraway galaxy and that what we call ‘magic’ is really superior technology our tiny, human minds can’t understand,” he paused to breathe, “but those were just the first few articles! I’m sure if we keep on looking, we’ll find something useful.”

“Do I really have to remind you that the most useful thing we found was a Satanist group’s website? I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly looking forward to joining them anytime soon.”

Leaning back against his bed’s headboard, the techno geek crossed his arms, feeling defensive. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Will you two just stop?” Danny finally had enough. He slammed the book he’d been reading shut before setting it down on his desk, where his own pile of books lay. Leaning back on his chair, one leg over his knee, he crossed his arms as he sent a stern look at his sister and best friend; the kind of look a father would give when scolding his misbehaving children.

Even though they had legitimate reasons to be cranky at each other, a selfish part of him thought the only one who could really act out of line was him. Tucker and Jazz tended to forget what really was on the line. True; if they didn’t find a solution to the random ghost portals soon, that could lead to severe repercussions on both dimensions, and dealing with Lady Arcana was both dangerous and nerve-racking in every sense of the word.

But the real danger came from within.

Although Danny had tried to limit their use as much as possible, the Witch Queen’s presence demanded he wore the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire in hopes of forcing the sorceress to think twice before double-crossing them. But the mere use of the two mystical items was far more terrifying than anything the entire witch clan could have thrown at him.

There was something inherently...evil encased in the ring and crown. Danny was sure of it. Damn, he could feel it with every fiber of his being. Even before donning the all-powerful objects for the first time during his coronation, the moment he held them after stripping them off of Pariah Dark’s form, they were already calling out to him.

And the most horrifying thing was that he wanted to heed their call. The relics promised infinite power to whoever was in possession of them. When, ironically, the dreaded things took possession of their wearer! After a brief moment of doubt where he almost fell into temptation and gave in, Danny understood wearing the ring and crown meant the total enslavement of his soul.

Ever since then, he lived in fear of succumbing to temptation and letting their sinister energy consume him. Whenever he had no choice but to wear the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire, Danny found himself fighting an uphill battle against the hypnotising pull of power emanating from them. It was more tempting than using his powers to get back at Dash for all the wedgies. It was more inviting than dating Valerie, regardless of the very real possibility of dying by her hand. It was more dangerous than accepting to work with Vlad, who foolishly coveted the very same torture he endured every time he put those two horrid artefacts on.

Because it was a literal deal with the devil; power in exchange of his soul.

And to think he had to endure all that every time he met up with the queen of the two-faced creatures responsible for such evil in the first place, just to convince her against doing anything foolish...It was irony at its finest.

With gentle spins of his chair, Danny kept looking alternatively at Tucker and Jazz, who were blissfully unaware of his inner musings, as he talked to each of them. First was Tucker. “Tuck, I know you’ve considered books a waste of time ever since we plugged you into the Cramtastic Mark 5 to break Ember’s spell, and I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but Jazz’s brought all these books from the library and we need as much information as possible.”

He then turned to his sister, who was laid facing down on the floor. “Jazz, same thing goes for you. Except the ‘book-hating' part,” he hastily added, “you know as well as I do that if there’s someone who can find anything on the Internet, it's Tucker. Just, give him time.”

His two teammates exchanged glances before giving up with an eye roll. “Whatever,” they said in unison before getting back to reading.

Danny wasn’t quite finished, though. “There’s also the fact that I’m not even sure we’ll find anything useful in the first place. I mean, what Lady Arcana needs is either an explanation on what’s causing the portals to manifest, or a spell that can counter it. And I highly doubt we’ll find that sort of information in books from the public library.”

“Maybe if they were from Hogwarts…” Tucker snickered at his own joke. When he noticed the twin glare the siblings were sending him, he sobered up. “Sorry.”

Jazz rolled her eyes as she changed her position from lying down to sitting up, cross-legged. “That doesn’t mean we won’t find anything useful, Danny. If anything, just learning more about the witches should be of help when dealing with them, right?”

The halfa sighed. “In theory. But Tucker’s right; we’ve been reading for hours and we haven’t found anything useful, or even that we didn’t already know of.”

“Thank you!” Tucker deadpanned as he clapped his hands sarcastically.

Danny ignored him in favour of continuing. “I mean, what’s to learn about them? Their background is completely irrelevant to the issue at hand. Knowing of the Salem trials isn’t going to help me prevent disaster from happening!”

“And don’t forget we don’t even know how to tell true facts apart from naysay.” Tucker pointed out, a finger raised in the air as if that’d give more credibility to his point.

But Jazz insisted. “All the more reason to find out more about them! For instance, Danny, what did you know about witches before meeting this Lady Arcana?”

Her brother gave a noncommittal shrug. “Only what Frostbite told me and what I read in the pages I found from Sojourn’s missing journalーand no, I’m not going to let you read them, Jazz; it’s too dangerous. Besides, I don’t even have them anymore,” he was quick to add, recognising the inquisitive look on his sister’s face all too well.

Annoyed at how well her brother knew her, and at Tucker’s ill-concealed snickers, the aspiring psychologist turned her head away in a huff. “Fine, keep your sister away from fascinating topics. It’s not like I’ve been keeping your secret for years; even from you.” She punctuated with a meaningful look.

If the look on Danny’s face was any indication, they’d had that same conversation too many times before. “Jazz, careful; you know emotionally blackmailing me will get you nowhere. It’ll make me want to keep more things away from you.”

The redhead stood up and got closer to him. With her arms crossed, she used her brother’s seated position to tower over him for once, since she had long lost the ability to look over his shoulder once Danny finally hit his growth spurt. “And you know trying to play hero and keep me away is going to solve nothing. If anything, it’s only going to make me want to help you even more.”

Watching the siblings from the comfortable distance his bed provided him, Tucker knew things would only get nasty if he let the tension escalate from there. He let out a wolf whistle, effectively capturing the Fenton kids' attention. “Wow. You know you two spend too much time together when you start using the other’s methods to get what you want.”

Danny and Jazz furrowed their brow in confusion. “What do you mean?” They asked in unison.

Changing his position so his back was resting against his wall rather than his bed, which also allowed him to easily look them both in the eye, their friend just shrugged nonchalantly. He wasn’t going to say anything else; their attention was no longer directed at each other and that was enough. “Nothing. Hey, how about a break?”

“A break?” Danny echoed, incredulous. “Didn’t we just argue about wasting time? Tuck, we can’t take a break now!”

Seeing where Tucker was getting at, and that he had a very good point, Jazz sighed. Turning to Danny, she put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Tucker is right. We’ve been at it for a few hours now. We’d better take a breather and continue later, when our minds are sharper.”

Danny was about to protest when he noticed their matching expressions. They were both tired after doing nothing but searching for clues for hours and bickering with each other. If anyone deserved a break, it was them. And as his own exhaustion finally kicked in, he realised, so did he.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s stop for a while.”

Satisfied, Jazz gave her little brother some space as she flopped down on his bed. “So, Tuck.” When his head snapped at the sound of her voice calling his name, she continued. “How’s your latest lady friend doing?”

It took the African American young man a moment to understand who she was talking about. “You mean Camille?”

“If that’s her name, then yes.”

“Oh, we don’t hang out anymore.”

“What?” Jazz gasped. “Why?”

Tucker looked at her uneasily. Danny, on his part, remained quiet, just listening to their conversation. “Uh, no offence, Jazz but...I don’t feel comfortable talking about this with my best friend’s sister; close as we may be.”

That made her frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just...there’s things you don’t talk about with just anyone. And what happens between you and the people you choose to fool around with is one of them. I mean, how would you feel if my mum tried meddling into your love life?”

She just made a derisive sound at the back of her throat. “Excuse me? That is completely different!”

“It is not!”

“Oh, really?” Jazz put her hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised. “Please. Tucker, I’m Danny’s older sister, not our mother! Moreso, I’m the eldest by two years,” she put two fingers up to stress her point, “it’s not like I babysat you or cleaned your diapers. It can’t be that embarrassing!”

Refusing to say any more, Tucker just fell backwards on his bed, arms crossed. From his chair, Danny could only roll his eyes good-naturedly at their banter.

After a beat of silence, Jazz tried again. “Was it your issues with commitment? Did she want more but you got scared?”

Exasperated, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then, he turned to his best friend. “You can intervene whenever you like, you know?”

Danny just leaned back on his chair, his arms folded behind his head and an easy grin on his face. “Nah, I’m good.”

Abruptly getting up from his bed, unamused, Tucker walked over to his desk and turned his computer on. His back turned to the Fenton siblings, he started fidgeting with a program he’d just opened. He had no idea what to do with it, but he figured it’d be better than Jazz butting in on his love life.

“So...is that it?” she ventured hopefully.

Groaning loudly, he rubbed his eyes before fully facing the current thorn in his side. “Has it ever crossed your mind that the reason why I don’t feel comfortable talking about this with you is because you’re going to try and psychoanalyse me?” Seeing as there was no reply, Tucker took it as a sign that she’d finally let it go, so he turned to face the screen.

...only to hear her whisper to Danny. “How much on them having trouble in bed?”

His face burning hot in embarrassment, Tucker slammed his head against the desk, startling the two other people in the room. At least Danny would never betray him, would he? No, he wouldn’t. It totally went against, like, fifty rules in the Bro Code.

Unfortunately, Danny was having far too much fun seeing Tucker squirm under Jazz’s scrutinising, psychological curiosity. “Well, from what I’ve heard…”

Oh, no! No way in Hell was that traitor selling him out like that! If Danny wanted war, he’d give him war, Bro Code be damned! Getting up with startling speed, Tucker yelled loud enough to drown Danny’s voice out. “Danny’s met a girl!”

Both siblings blinked slowly at him before simultaneously screeching, “What!?” Although it was impossible to tell which of the two was more bewildered by the revelation.

In an instant, Jazz was on her brother like a vulpture on an animal carcass. “Danny, is that true? You have a girlfriend?” Suddenly, she looked much more offended than dumbfounded. “And you didn’t tell me?!”

“No!” he quickly denied, before all but flying from his chair and going over to his so-called best friend to smack him on the arm. Hard. “Tucker, what the fuck?!”

“Language!” Jazz admonished.

“Where did you get the idea that I got a girlfriend? What, you’ve listened to me talking about how I fear for my life whenever I’m in the same room as the short-tempered, curse-inducing, infuriating Queen of the Witches of Amity Park and you obviously thought, Oh, man. That’s true love right there and then?!”

“Well, that definitely didn’t stop you from crushing on Valerie back in high school…” Jazz pointed out meekly.

Seeing Danny’s eyes glow green for a fraction of a second was enough to make Tucker sweat bullets. “Jazz, you’re not helping!” He squeaked. “And, dude, you’re freaking me out a little with the way you’re burning holes in my skull. At this point, I really wouldn’t put it past you to have suddenly developed heat-vision or something…”

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Danny finally got out of his best friend’s personal space. He was still pissed, though. “Talk.”

Straightening his clothes, Tucker rolled his eyes. “My, aren’t you sensitive today.”

“Well, duh! You just said I have a girlfriend! Could you be so kind as to tell me who so I don’t forget our anniversary or, I don’t know, her face!?”

The techno geek made a ‘pfft’ sound with his mouth, shrugging the notion off with a motion of his hand. “I never said you had a girlfriend. My exact words were ‘Danny’s met a girl.’ If you two are too obsessed with your love life to pay close attention to what other people say, that’s not my problem.”

“Okay, so who’s this girl?” Jazz asked, still curious.

“Yes, please, enlighten us, oh, King Tuck.” Danny quipped sarcastically.

Tucker frowned, not appreciating the quip at his past mistake, but he spoke nonetheless. “Dude, it 's Sam.”

There was a beat of silence where brother and sister just stared at him before Danny whispered, shell-shocked, “Sam?”

Jazz, on her part, was both shocked and confused. “Wait, who’s Sam?”

He would’ve smacked him right then and there if it weren’t for his best friend having ghost powers he could blast him with. “Well, duh! Dude, have you or have you not met a girl named Sam recently? Because, I’m warning you, if you thought she was a guy, I’m telling on you. I don’t care if she beats your ass; you’d deserve it.”

“Ooh! A girl capable of kicking my baby brother's butt? Now I gotta know who she is! Also, Tucker, language.” The aqua-eyed girl half-heartedly scolded him, before her expression turned into a pensive one as she redirected her gaze to Danny “...are you sure you don’t have a type, though?”

“Sam and Valerie are nothing alike!” Danny exclaimed, throwing his arms up at his sides. Then he turned to Tucker, his hands now curled into fists out of sheer annoyance. “And of course I know she’s a girl. I just don’t understand how on Earth you’d come to the conclusion that I’m into her or something.”

Not for the first time, Tucker rolled his eyes before getting up from his chair and draping his arm around Danny’s shoulders. “And, again, I never said you were. I just said you’d met a girl…” Danny didn’t like that mischievous glint in his eyes one bit. “It just so happens I know you two enough to know you’d immediately assume I was talking about a lady friend, which would then make you forget all about moi.” Tucker explained with a cheeky grin. “And, lo and behold, it worked!”

Danny narrowed his eyes on him. He hated it when Tucker used their everlasting friendship to play him like a violin. Jazz, on the other hand, hated having her queries ignored. Taking a deep breath, she raised her voice to deafening levels. “Hello? Can anyone tell me who this ‘Sam’ is?”

“Agh!” Both halfa and techno geek exclaimed, taken aback. Nursing his ear, the youngest Fenton glared at his sister. “You're louder than my Ghostly Wail, you know that?”

“I can attest to that.” Tucker muttered, equally annoyed.

Both sighed in defeat when Jazz limited herself to arching an eyebrow at them with her hands, curled into fists at her sides, stubborn as ever to get her answers. “Jazz, it’s no big deal. Sam is just a friend of Tucker’s who knows an awful lot about the occult and such. He thinks she might be able to help me with you-know-who.” He explained as he sat down on his bed next to her, Tucker following suit.

“Wait, Tucker is friends with a girl that’s not me?”

The aforementioned boy took offence at that. “Is it really that weird to see me hanging out with a girl because we’re friends and nothing more?”

The Fenton kids just stared at him blankly. “Dude, you literally hit on anything with a skirt. Remember the drag queen?”

The techno geek spluttered at that, while Jazz couldn’t help but chortle. “Dude, you promised to never bring that up again!”

Danny only chuckled at his best friend’s flushed face. “I don’t think you’re in any position to complain, Tuck. After all, you did break that poor queen’s heart...”

“Why, you!” Face burning hot in embarrassment, Tucker threw himself at Danny, ready to strangle him, ability to blast him to smithereens be damned! His own body reacting instinctively, Danny lay down on his back as he grabbed his best friend’s wrists. The two would’ve started roughhousing hadn’t it been for Jazz getting caught in between.

“Hey! Stop it you two!” With a superhuman strength that could only be attributed to an older sibling separating her little brothers, Jazz shoved Tucker off of Danny, while she kept the latter down with a hand on his chest. A few minutes passed before the two calmed down. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she turned to Tucker, trying to keep the original conversation going. “So this Sam could be of help?”

Willing his own breath to steady, Tucker nodded. “Yeah. Sam’s a Goth, so she’s very interested in all that. In fact, she’s been of help before.”

Danny’s interest perked at that. “What do you mean?”

“Remember when I’d come up with a solution to defeat certain ghosts this past year? Like Medusa, or that giant Hydra, and such? That was all Sam!”

“Now that you mention it, it did take me by surprise that you’d suddenly know what a hydra even is…”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence…” he quipped, before shaking his head to keep himself focused. “Anyway, whenever those ghosts appeared, I’d remember Sam talking about her latest mythology-related acquisition she bought from her favourite bookstore. So I just called her up, used the very convenient ghost in case to ask about its weakness and, ta-da! You’d have your way to beat them!” He exclaimed, proudly puffing up his chest. After a moment, he deflated, another thought in his mind. “The only creature she never told me about are unicorns, though. I don’t know why.”

“Maybe it throws off her entire dark, cynical persona.” Jazz guessed. Becoming Goth was a common coping mechanism for when people lost someone dear. For all she knew, this Sam could’ve lost a loved one and abandoned all things traditionally cute and girly as a way to put up a strong, undaunted façade, constantly exposing herself to the darker side of life in an attempt to grow desensitised to such things.

“Maybe,” the bespectacled young man shrugged, “but if you ever meet her, don’t go around saying things like that. Somehow, I doubt she’d appreciate having her entire identity picked out and analysed.”

As Tucker and Jazz kept on bantering with each other, Danny’s thoughts were elsewhere. If what Tucker was saying was true and Sam had indeed marked the difference between victory and defeat during those ghost attacks, then it really would be better to have her by his side.

Despite his years fighting ghosts and what he’d learned from Frostbite, his knowledge was limited to the Ghost Zone, which was why the presence of mythological or legendary ghosts tended to demand more of him than, say, facing off against Technus, or Johnny 13. Magical artefacts and abilities fell under that category, as well.

Aside from the lack of portal-creating and visits to the Ghost Zone, the witches, on the contrary, seemed to be knowledgeable of ghosts. And that put him at a clear disadvantage he couldn’t afford. But if Sam also happened to know about witches, maybe even partake in rituals for the sake of it, then having her near would be for the best. He would only have to make sure to keep a close eye on her in case the witches found out and went after her in retaliation.

And also, deep down, he was sort of looking forward to meeting her again.

...............

The seemingly never ending corridors were doing nothing to alleviate her already suffering nerves. Despite the velvet-carpeted floor that would other times muffle her heavy steps, she now felt as if every step she took resonated throughout the manor like the screeching tiles of a wooden floor. From the rich, maroon walls were hanging the portraits of every astounding witch their clan had ever witnessed; from queens and Council members, to especially adept sorceresses or even heroines who had saved their sisters one way or another. All those women she usually looked up to for guidance in difficult times now seemed to be silently judging her with their cold, unforgiving eyes.

She walked in complete silence, afraid to disturb the peace if she were to utter a word. After discovering the grimoire she used to travel to the Ghost Zone wouldn’t be of any help in her mission, Sam was blindly following the beginning of a hunch; the spark of an idea whose outcome she still knew nothing of. But, even if she wasn’t sure what she was looking for, it was all she had.

Sam had no choice but to follow that inkling.

Hurriedly trying to keep up with her, Star and Paulina were close behind. Once again, their position within their Queen’s inner circle allowed them to understand Sam’s thought process better than most. Only they knew the true reason behind the Queen’s unprompted visit to their clan’s archives.

“Your Majesty, what do you expect to find inside thー?” Before Star could so much as finish her question, Sam interrupted her.

“Indeed, Star. I would appreciate a warm bubble bath with deadly nightshade leaves.” The queen said, not even stopping to look back at her ladies-in-waiting.

To any other person, that cryptic message would have meant nothing but the typical request one would expect a queen to ask her personal maids of. But Paulina and Star knew better. Asking for deadly nightshade was Sam’s way of telling them to keep whatever she was up to a secret. By asking Star for a deadly nightshade bubble bath, she was instructing them that absolutely no one should find out about the true reason behind her visit to the archives.

Exchanging knowing glances with Paulina, the blonde lowered her head slightly, fully aware that her Queen was watching her from the corner of her eye. “Yes, your Majesty.”

And with that everything that had to be said was shared between them.

Time was of the essence.

Aside from the evident danger she faced every time she travelled to the Infinite Realms, there was the added possibility of being spotted by humans, regardless of how far away from civilization their meeting spot was. If anyone ever took notice of the three mysterious figures fraternising with ghosts, Amity Park’s greatest known threat, questions would soon arise.

And whenever humans had questions, they turned to the so-called experts on the matter for help. While Sam wasn’t sure those incompetent Guys In White even suspected their existence, she still wouldn’t put it past them to investigate for the sake of burning tax money in some new toys. Those greedy, government puppets… Worst of all, if they took a genuine interest in her kind, they might as well be done for, and not necessarily because the GIW were good at their job…

If word got out that witches were real and living among them, the citizens could get scared. And whenever humans got scared, especially if it was of things they couldn’t quite explain or understand, that fear turned into aggression. If they kept wasting any more time, one day she’d open her door to find herself face to face with an angry mob.

And to think it’d all be because of a group of incompentent ghost hunters who couldn’t even drive away the very same treacherous creatures responsible for her people’s need for secrecy in the first place...it was irony at its finest.

However, despite the spike of anxiety in her chest, Sam couldn’t help but go back to her last visit to the Ghost Zone. Phantom’s attempts at dissipating the tension had been, as much as she hated to admit it, a welcomed thing. And yet, it was a little unnerving to learn the Ghost King shared her views on formality and the power of intimacy, because it made him look more human than she would ever be comfortable with.

In all fairness, it was difficult to imagine Phantom talking like anything but his usual, cocky self in the first place. From what little exchanges the news broadcasts had been able to catch on camera during the years, the white-haired spirit tended to get overly familiar with his opponents, getting under their skin with puns or witty comebacks thrown at their expense. Still, as unusual as it was, Sam couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, it would’ve been better to keep on using their respective honorifics. Because Phantom addressing her like he would any other misbehaving ghost, like she’d seen him do dozens of times over the years, somehow made it all the more...real. She truly was talking to the infamous Ghost King on her own volition.

That thought alone scared her more than she’d ever be willing to admit.

Before Sam could dwell on the matter any longer, a grating, shrill voice snapped her out of her thoughts. A voice she knew all too well and would do just about anything to never hear again unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Sammy-kins!”

Stopping in her tracks, eye twitching in annoyance, the lavender-eyed girl forced a smile to materialise on her face as she slowly turned around to face the mother of all monsters. Her own. “Hello, Mother.” She forced out.

Pamela Manson was an average witch; the only thing stellar about her was her ability to distract humans with her lavish parties and over-the-top socialite persona. A woman obsessed with social status and appearances, Sam’s mother constantly got on her case due to her own disregard for the very things Pamela lived for.

Mother and daughter were opposites in almost every aspect.

Whereas Sam prided herself in her individuality and ability to go unnoticed unless she truly wished to make her presence known, Pamela was obsessed with blending in a way that would always draw all eyes to her.

Sam believed in standing up for a change, without fear of taking big steps as long as they led her to a better world. Pamela considered things to be fine as they were, and that the only changes that should be implemented were small, insignificant ones; such as her daughter’s fashion sense.

While Sam was a rather cynical individual who still cared about everyone deep down, her mother was preppy and optimistic, but her aspirations were limited to what could benefit her and her family.

But what truly set them apart was Sam’s insistence on being inconspicuous to the human eye; her coven’s anonymity her top priority. As opposed to Pamela who, had she been queen, would’ve accidentally exposed their secrets in her first week after being crowned; tops.

In all fairness, it wasn’t that Pamela didn’t care for their clan; it was just that she couldn’t resist flaunting what, she believed, made her better than everyone else.

And, right now, she believed her daughter’s manners could be much better. “What’s with the cold greeting, Sammy-kins? We haven’t seen much of each other in over a week and that’s how you treat me?”

On second thought, Sam much preferred her chances against an angry mob over spending five minutes in the same room as her mother. “Sorry, Mother, but you caught me in the middle of something important and…”

“What could possibly be more important than what I’m about to tell you?” Pamela questioned, her hands on her hips.

“Perhaps finding a way to save two dimensions or, at the very least, our people, but you’re right, Mum, what was it that you wanted to tell me?”, was what the raven-haired witch wished she could’ve said, but instead she opted for, “And what is it that you have to tell me?”

Instead of answering her daughter, however, Pamela directed an expectant look at her two ladies-in-waiting who, upon noticing her steely glare on them, immediately straightened up before lowering their heads in submission. “Greetings, your Ladyship.” Paulina and Star droned, their heads low.

Although Pamela was never queen herself, as mother of the current leader of the clan she was to be regarded with respect. A fact the woman would constantly revel in and fully take advantage of. Smiling in contentment, she sighed. “Ah, much better. Now, Sammy-kins, I was thinking we could take some time away from your schedule to have a little chat on your wardrobe choices?”

Ugh, not that again. Ignoring her mother’s offended gasp, Sam turned on her heel to make her way, once again, to her original destination. Star and Paulina hurrying up to leave ‘her Ladyship’ behind and keep up with their queen after flashing her mother a pair of matching sheepish smiles

Unfortunately, the one thing Sam seemed to have inherited from her mother was her stubbornness. Quickening her own pace, the clicking of her high heels behind her haunting Sam even in her dreams, Pamela caught up with them in a surprisingly short amount of time. Having no choice but to breathlessly talk to her daughter at the same time as she tried keeping up with her would not be enough to get her to give up on her pursuit.

“Seeing as we have much more important matters to discuss, I shall gracefully ignore your previous insolence.” Luckily for Sam, her mother missed the way she rolled her eyes at her. “I know this...Gore style of yoursー.”

“It’s ‘Goth’, Mother…” Sam corrected her, but her efforts fell on deaf ears.

“ーis just your way of rebelling against the world because things don’t go your way, but don’t you think enough is enough? You’ve been dressing like a mortician since you were twelve!”

“If you’re done patronising me and the way I choose to present myself to the worldーwhich, not only have you insulted in every possible way but, allow me to remind you, is not just a phaseー, I really do have more important matters to attend to.”

And with that, she sped up past her mother. It should’ve been the end of that conversation, but Pamela always had to have the last word. “But what about the clan? Don’t you think it’s selfish to compromise us like that?”

That stopped the Witch Queen dead in her tracks, the unexpected stop causing Paulina and Star to tumble back a few steps. Once they registered what Pamela had said, their blood ran cold; the stiffness in Sam’s posture only confirmed their unspoken fears:

Sam’s mother had just crossed a line.

Fists clenched so tightly at her sides she could’ve drawn blood, her teeth gritting in aggravation, Sam hissed, not even turning around to face her mother. “What did you just say?”

Brushing her daughter’s anger off as just another tantrum, Pamela calmly walked over to where she stood, looking over her handmaidens’ shoulders. Resting a palm on Sam’s shoulder, a hand that, although meant as comforting, came out as condescending, mocking; the older witch spoke up. “I’m just saying, you’re always advocating for our anonymity, yet you seem to ignore that people will immediately associate your obvious, stereotypically witchy outfits with real-life witchcraft. All that black and those dark colours, the ripped fabric, the metal ornaments… Sammy, don’t you see? That’s like wearing a sign saying ‘I’m a witch! Come and lynch me!’”

Taking advantage of her turned face, Sam narrowed her eyes on her mother. She dressed like a WASP housewife from the 50’s when she was a Jewish woman living in the 21st centuryーshe was in absolutely no position to criticise her looks!

How dare she? How dare she?! Using her duty to protect her people against her just to get her to wear some frilly abomination because she couldn’t fathom the idea that her daughter would want to be her own person?

It was moments like these that Sam missed Grandma Ida the most. Her grandma would’ve guided her in her darkest hours, giving her useful advice to approach the situation, but never making decisions for her, letting her live and learn instead! Grandma Ida would’ve never tried to use her to push some personal agenda on the clan.

But Grandma Ida was gone, and Pamela was there to stay.

As insulted and, although she’d never let it show, hurt as Sam was, going to the archives took priority. Stowing her conversation with her mother for another time as she resumed her march down the hallsーpreferably when she’d be alone in her roomーSam shrugged her off the best way she knew; through biting sarcasm. “Oh, please. If I were nearly as ‘obvious’ or ‘stereotypically witchy’ as you say, Mother, I’d decorate this place after the Sedlec Ossuary.”

Pamela furrowed her brow in confusion as she, too, resumed her walk. “What does that even mean?”

“She’s talking about a Czech chapel fully decorated with bones and skulls.” Star helpfully supplied.

Paulina, on the contrary, shuddered in disgust. “Ugh, I’d rather not. I’d feel like I’m always being watched…”

Star tilted her head to the side. “How? Skulls don’t have eyes.”

Ignoring the handmaidens, Pamela opened up her mouth to speak when a raised hand from her daughter, who had abruptly halted, stopped her from even getting a word in. “As lovely as catching up with you has been, Mother,” Sam started, voice laced with sarcasm, “I’m afraid I must go. I have important matters to attend to, as I already told you, that I must take care of, in private.” She stressed before turning the doorknob of the large door before her and walking inside, swiftly letting her bewildered mother out after she all but slammed the door shut in her face.

Leaning her back against the door, Sam let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. No matter how much time passed, her mother would always be a she-demon worse than any ghost. God forbid Phantom ever met her; if he were to take a page out of her book, Sam would personally burn herself at the stake.

“Is Pamela too much for you?” A sultry voice coaxed her out of her thoughts.

Opening up her eyes, Sam could feel the relieved smile forming on her face at the sight of the witch she most wanted to see at the moment. “Delilah.” She breathed out as she separated herself from the door, walking over to her friend to grab her hands in hers. “You have no idea.” Sighing dramatically, she let her head fall on the crook of the shapeshifter’s shoulder, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Oh, I don’t need to.” She said, gently patting her queen’s head. “Just by looking at you I can tell; you look like you’ve suddenly lost ten years of your life!”

“Make that twenty,” Sam grumbled.

Separating herself from her leader, their hands still holding each other, the turquoise-eyed sorceress got to the point. “Well, what brings you here? As much as I love your visits, I thought you’d be busy with your little escapes to the Ghost Zone?”

Sam averted her gaze, the wooden floor suddenly much more interesting than a few seconds ago. “It’s precisely because of that that I’m here.”

“Oh?” Delilah tilted her head, slightly. “Okay...So, what are you here for, then?”

To her bewilderment, her queen’s eyes continuously darted from one place to another, as if expecting to be ambushed any minute now. “Are we alone?”

An odd question, but not necessarily a bad one. Putting her fingers on her chin in thought, the Council member tried to remember if she’d seen anyone that day. “Hm, I think Stephanie might be somewhere around here, engrossed in a book. But you know her, it’d be easier to get me to leave the archives than not seeing that girl with her nose deep in a book.”

Stephanie was probably with them. That was not a bad thing. Stephanie ought to find out sooner or later. Wringing her hands nervously, Sam willed her eyes to look at Delilah’s own curious turquoise ones. “I need your help with something.”

That caught her attention. “My help?” Sam nodded. “My, Sam, you’re starting to worry me.” Delilah admitted as she got closer to the Goth, her hand hovering over her shoulder but never close enough to actually rest atop of it, afraid that the sudden contact would startle her. It was unusual to see her so suspicious of everything around her. Maybe… “Did the ghosts do anything? Are we going to war?”

That seemed to snap the younger witch out of whatever she was going through. She didn’t lower her guard, though. “No, no. We’re not going to war.” She shook her head as she let Delilah gently guide her to another section of the archives. “But in order to avoid just that I might need to do something crazy…”

Delilah wrinkled her nose at that. “Something crazy? You’re not going to marry that Ghost Punk, are you?”

Startled, Sam jerked away from her touch, shuddering in discomfort. Where would she get such a ridiculous idea? She and Danny Phantom? She almost wanted to laugh. Instead, she let out a derisive sound from the back of her throat. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“So, what is it then? I’m sorry, Sam, but you’re not making any sense right now.” The shapeshifter insisted. “If we’re not going to war, and you’re not going to marry the Ghost King, what do you need me for?” Taking a few steps, she got closer to the young monarch, their faces mere inches apart as she tried looking for answers in her amethyst orbs. “What could be so serious that you’re so unnerved, Sam?”

Delilah’s intense gaze made her squirm, but she had a point. She couldn’t expect her to help her, no questions asked. For instance, she wasn’t just the best shapeshifter of the clan, she was also a Council member, and the archives guardian. She was the one tasked with keeping their people’s most precious treasure, their history and knowledge, safe. And considering what she was gonna ask of her, Delilah was in her right to know exactly what was going through her head.

Steeling herself for what was to come, Sam straightened her spine, returning the intensity of the older witch’s gaze in earnest. “I need you to grant me access to a certain type of book.”

Delilah’s posture relaxed. “Is that it? Why didn’t you say so sooner? Sure, just tell me what you’re looking for and I’ll let you take a lookー.”

“I mean,” Sam cut her off, “I need you to grant me permission to take the book with me, outside of the manor...and into the Ghost Zone.” Her voice wavered when she muttered the last part.

“Oh...I see...” The guardian’s expression immediately sobered up. She cleared her throat, awkwardly. “And, what type of book are you looking for?”

Now things were going to get really ugly. “I need a spellbook detailing everything we know about the Ghost Zone, specifically, its portals.”

For a while, Delilah just stared at her, almost unblinkingly. The good news was she didn’t appear angry or outraged as Sam had predicted, the bad news, however, was that her empty, unreadable expression was much worse. At least she’d have known what she was thinking had she been yelling at her for her idiocy; questioning her mental health. But as it was, Sam was almost as lost as her.

After what felt like an eternity, Delilah finally found her voice. “So you…” she quieted down, trying to find the words. “You want to take one of our most sacred texts to the Ghost Zone?”

Sam winced. Somehow, it sounded way worse when she said it like that. “I know it’s asking for too much…”

“Saying that’s an understatement wouldn’t even begin to cover it.” The Council member scoffed. “Seriously, Margaret would have a cow! And don’t get me started on Wilhelmina…”

“I know!” Sam was quick to reassure her. She was perfectly aware what she was asking of her might be a little excessive, but she wasn’t completely delusional! She knew just what kind of reaction their fellow Council members would have... “I know, but...the only way to ensure our people’s safety is helping Phantom. And he needs help closing numerous unstable portals that are suddenly opening. I thought the book I’d been using to get to the Infinite Realms would have the answers, but its contents were thoroughly underwhelming.”

Just like she did in Phantom’s lair, Sam got the spellbook out of her skirt before handing it to the guardian. In turn, she inspected its pages, concluding that, indeed, the book hadn’t much to offer. “Please, Delilah, you know I would never ask this of you if I didn’t think it’s our only hope.”

Sam wasn’t one to plead. The young Council member knew this better than anyone. She was headstrong and determined; the entire clan knew there wasn’t much that could be done to dissuade her once her mind was made up. Margaret herself found it to be both a blessing and a curse, while Wilhelmina thought it was a curse. Period. And Delilah...

Delilah prayed to all things above her that she wasn’t about to make a mistake. Sighing in defeat, she flashed Sam a small grin, earning herself a triumphant smile in return. Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she motioned for her queen to follow her with a slight jerk of her index finger. “Come with me, your Majesty. I know just the thing.”

Sighing in relief, Sam allowed her eyes to wander around the manor’s archives. She really couldn’t blame Stephanie for loving the place to the point of practically making it her second homeーthe sight was breathtaking.

The circular room, surrounded by large panel windows, located right below the Council Room, which put it in the three-story manor’s second story, was one of the best examples of a Pocket Dimension Spell put to good use. Countless shelves filled to the brim with colourful, leather-bound books went on as far as reached the eye; hanging proudly from the ceiling, the arrow-shaped banners with her clan’s signature colour and emblemーa black rose over a royal purple backgroundーadorned the room; leaning against the shelves, golden ladders could be seen moving on their own accord; which was almost as impressive as the floating books that flew from one place to another by flapping their two covers like an eagle would flap its wings.

Walking through the numerous aisles, letting herself be, one again, amazed by the sight, Sam caught a familiar figure from the corner of her eye. Turning her head to the source, she found Stephanie Baker, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back against a shelf’s lateral plank, an incredibly dense book perched on her lap.

Sensing someone’s eyes on her, no doubt, Stephanie lifted her head up and away from her book, before a grin was plastered on her face at the sight of her queen. Her enthusiastic wave was answered by Sam’s much more subdued one, alongside a small chuckle. “She’ll never change; she’s at her happiest when surrounded by books,” Sam mused to herself.

She and Delilah kept walking in silence, but with each step she took, the Goth couldn’t help but furrow her brow, anxiously. They were getting further and further away from the archives’ hot spot, the zone with the most activity disappearing in the distance until she almost couldn’t make it out anymore. Just where was she taking her?

Her question was answered when her guide halted abruptly in front of the wall. An empty space that, unlike the other walls encasing the archives, wasn’t even decorated by a portrait of one of the previous guardians. Not sure what to expect, Sam tilted her head to the side, speechless. “Uh...Delilah?”

But Delilah didn’t answer. Instead, she turned her back on her and extended her hands, palms open, in front of her. “Clavis mysteria!”, she chanted, her carefully coiffed onyx braid dancing around her, as if swayed by a sudden strong breeze. From her palms emanated a green fog that, as Sam could only look on in awe, speechless for an entirely different reason; seemed to open the wall in half, the resulting, uneven, wooden dents making way for it.

An eternity or a few minutes could’ve passed, and Sam would be willing to believe anything she was told, when the green fog manifested again, carrying a rather large object with it. When the Witch Queen realised what it was, she could only gasp in astonishment.

Levitating before them was a royal blue, leather-bound book. Intricate designs were scattered throughout its back cover, engraved in gold. Two such designs, a pair of golden, twin swirls, flanked an equally golden fleur de lis on its spine. But the most amazing thing, what truly showed the book’s importance, were the golden letters, glinting under the light, on its cover:

Arcana’s Grimoire

Mouth hanging open, the young witch could only gape at her friend, completely blown away by the revelation, as the grimoire landed safely on her hands. With a small chuckle, Delilah pushed some loose, black locks obscuring the right side of her face aside. “Sorry. No matter how tightly I tie my braid, spellcasting always messes my hair up.”

Her throat suddenly very dry, Sam swallowed before managing to speak, a finger pointing at the manuscript. “Is...is that…?”

With a knowing smile, Delilah nodded. “Arcana's Grimoire. If you want to find answers on what’s causing those ghost portals to open at random, this baby is your best bet.” Stretching her arms towards the queen, she handed the book to her, who held it with as much care as one held a newborn for the first time, almost reverently. “The grimoire holds the answers to all those questions time made sure to erase.”

“I-I…you...t-the book...” Sam stuttered, not sure what to say. “A-are you sure you want to entrust the g-grimoire, Arcana’s Grimoire, to me?”

“It’s risky, I know. But you said it yourself, you wouldn’t ask me to grant you permission to take a spellbook out of the manor if you weren’t convinced it’s our only hope.” Those few loose strands falling on her face, a stark contrast to her dark mane, she lay a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder, a soft smile on her face. “And I wouldn’t hand the grimoire to you if I didn’t think it’d be safe with you.”

Eyes widening at the Council member’s words, Sam couldn’t do anything but send her a grateful smile in return. Clutching the grimoire close to her chest, she promised, “I’ll guard it with my life.”

Internally, she made another promise, only this time, it was much more violent than solemn. “And I swear, if Phantom so much as looks at it wrong, I’ll ask Danny to lend me some of his parents’ weapons and hunt him down myself.”

................

“You’re lucky this place sells some of the best pastrami sandwiches I’ve ever had, dude. Otherwise, you’d be on your own.” Tucker said in between bites of his heavenly pastrami with honey mustard sandwich. Wiping some sauce from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, earning himself disgusted looks from the two other people present, he wagged a finger at his best friend. “Seriously, though. Who would’ve thought Sam would have good taste in restaurants?”

He winced when the Goth in question elbowed him on his side. “I have excellent taste in food in general, thank you very much. It’s not my fault only 9% of the global population can appreciate it.”

Once again, they were meeting up at the You Mocha Me Crazy, which, at this rate, was going to become their new favourite hanging spot. Unless Sam was willing to forego her vegetarian ways and ask for a Double Meaty Nasty Burger with extra bacon with them. Somehow, that seemed unlikely. Luckily, during their first visit Sam had introduced Tucker to their selection of sandwiches and cold cuts, making it easier for the techno geek to warm up to the café.

After that successful first meeting, the trio decided to hang out whenever Danny needed Sam's help to write his ‘paper.’ All they had to do was ring or text Sam, and she’d tell them when she was free to meet.

Today was one of those days she was free and the guys were in need of her help. The three were lounging around a small coffee table Sam named ‘her spot’, for it was where she usually had her coffee or worked on her assignments in peace. The fact that she was good friends with one of the baristas also helped keep the space free of any ‘spot-stealing-squads,’ as she lovingly referred to ‘those vultures.’

Nursing his aching side, Tucker rolled his eyes. He’d already lost count on how many times they’d had that same conversation. “Is there anyone free from your vegan wrath?”

“For the last time, I’m ultra-recyclo-vegetarian, not vegan.”

“What’s the difference?” Danny intervened, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Vegans tend to waste almost as much food as non-vegetarians. Ultra-recyclo-vegetarians make the most of every single meal.” Sam explained, forking a piece of tomato from her salad. “That’s where the ‘recyclo’ part comes from.”

“I thought that was freegans.” Tucker frowned, still munching his sandwich.

“I’m surprised you even know what that is.”

“You and me both.” Danny said, turning to look at Tucker with a curious expression on his face.

Rolling his eyes, the techno geek shrugged them off. “You meet the craziest people on Tinder.” He explained offhandedly. When he took notice of his two companions’ horrified expressions, he almost doubled over in laughter. Clearing his throat, he turned to Sam. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

Shaking her head to erase the traumatising image that was Tucker’s love life, Sam started. “What? Uh...oh! Right. Ehem! As a matter of fact, there are people excluded from my ‘ultra-recyclo-vegetarian wrath.’” She corrected. “I’d never force people without enough resources to go vegan. Such as the Inuit community. Besides, those guys barely hunt anything compared to rich jerks with questionable hobbies, and they use everything of what little they do hunt.”

“Handy people.” Danny mused, before returning his attention to his laptop, resting on top of his lap, one leg crossed over his other knee. “Now, I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but we’re here to help me with my...with my homework, remember?”

If Sam thought the way he seemed to overthink his words was weird, she didn’t let it show. “Yeah, you’re right.” She said as she turned her torso around, reaching for her notes inside her spider backpack. “Okay, you two. Lay it on me; what do you want to know?”

Tucker and Danny exchanged a glance, before the blue-eyed boy ventured. “Well...Sam, you’re the expert. What can you tell us of...um...of the witches.”

Scanning through her notepad’s pages, Sam froze at Danny’s words. Could her people’s secret have been discovered already? Before risking compromising her sisters, she had to test the waters first. “Why are you doing your paper on witches in the first place?” Her voice came out a little colder than she intended.

Tucker furrowed his brow, taken aback by her sudden guarded posture, while Danny just rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Uh...why not? The seminar I signed up for is on mythological creatures and folklore, and witches are one of the most legendary myths ever...right?”

Alright, that made sense. But she couldn’t be reckless, she had to make sure Danny didn’t pose a threat to her coven. “Yeah, they definitely are. I’m sorry, it’s just...with all the ghosts constantly attacking Amity Park, I thought, ‘why witches?’, you know? I mean, your parents are experts! If you just asked them for a little bit of help, your assignment would immediately turn into an easy A, wouldn’t it?”

Taking a gulp from his espresso, Danny carefully thought what to say next. He couldn’t let Sam think he had some sort of ulterior motive for asking about the mystical group of women; he’d promised Lady Arcana her people’s secret would be safe, after all. So he did the only thing he could; he expertly lied. “Well, I don’t really like having things handed to me, you see. What’s the point in signing up for a seminar if I’m just going to get an easy A thanks to my parents, you know what I mean?”

Tucker had to fight the urge to laugh at the irony of the situation. Oh, what Danny wouldn’t have given just to get easy A’s during high school... When his two friends turned to him, Sam looking at him in confusion and Danny quietly begging him to keep his mouth shut, he played it cool by taking a sip from his drink.

“Anyway,” Danny continued, “I just thought ghosts would be...I dunno...too mainstream? The assignment is supposed to make me do research on mythological creatures, and nowadays it’s pretty obvious ghosts are anything but mythological.”

“Witches aren’t far behind, either…” Sam internally mused, sipping from her macchiato. Holding the carton cup with both hands, she decided sharing some information with Danny and Tucker would be safe. She’d just tell them the basics, debunk some Hollywood myths...the usual. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Danny echoed, hopefully.

“Okay.” Sam repeated with a smile. “Anything in particular you want to know about?”

“Just...anything you can tell us, really.” Tucker said, leaning forward with his hands between his legs.

“You’re gonna have to be a tad more specific than that, guys.”

Crossing his arms, the Astrophysics student thought long and hard. What was it that he really wanted to know about them? Well, the answer to that was obvious. His only real question was why? Why did they do what they did? If only he could figure that out, then maybe he’d know how to approach Lady Arcana. But there was no way he could ask that without exposing who he was. And it wasn’t like Sam, of all people, would have the answer anyway.

So instead he asked, “What’s their origin?”

That startled Sam, who almost choked on her lettuce, Tucker quickly coming to her assistance and patting her back. After massaging her throat and swallowing her food, she looked at Danny with an inquisitive eye. “Come again?” She croaked out.

“What’s their origin?” He repeated. “And...and I don’t mean this as in...as in a history lesson. Like, when did witches first appear or anything. If I wanted to know that, I’d just read a book or watch a National Geographic documentary. I-I mean, how is a witch even born?”

“Do I have to explain the birds and the bees to you guys, too?” She asked with a coy smile, having recovered from her coughing fit. Despite the seriousness of his query, the violet-eyed girl couldn’t help but tease him.

Danny flushed in embarrassment. He had to admit, he’d handed her that one. Shaking his head, he chuckled. “I’m good, thanks. You might need to talk to Tuck, though.” He joked, earning himself an offended gasp from his best friend, who punched him lightly on his arm in protest. “But, nah. I guess a better question would be, what makes a witch...well, a witch?”

Sam had to admit, it was a good question. Even if it may risk her people’s secrets, such depth earned the blue-eyed boy some respect from her. Not many people went beyond the basics when looking for information. Most would be content with reading the first few paragraphs of a Wikipedia article. But Danny… Something about the intensity of his ocean blue eyes made Sam feel he was more similar to his parents than he’d originally thought; despite having no interest in ghosts himself. Somehow, he shared their inquisitive and curious mind, albeit from a less scientific approach. Just by that question alone, she immediately understood Danny Fenton was much smarter than people gave him credit for.

Exhaling, she began to explain. “Believe it or not, the one who got closer to the truth was Harry Potter.”

“You mean the children’s book with the extra creepy white dude?” The bespectacled young man raised an eyebrow, before exchanging disbelieving glances with his best friend beside him.

She just chuckled. “Yeah. Witches are human women who were born with the innate ability to do magic, setting them apart from the rest.”

“So...this is witches vs muggles that we’re talking about.” Tucker insisted.

“Yes, Tucker.” Sam said with a bit more bite than she intended. “Point is, being born different tends to alienate people, and considering we’re talking about magical-powers kind of different…”

“The witches were alienated and persecuted by society.” Danny finished for her.

“Bingo.” The raven-haired girl picked up some photocopies with different articles printed on them and handed a few copies to both of them. “Although nowadays most people bel-know witches aren’t real,” she caught herself before her subconscious could rat her out, “some cryptology experts theorise they just eventually flocked together to keep whatever magical gene they had inside the coven. You know, as a precaution to avoid further persecution.” To this day, she still couldn’t believe a group of nutjobs would be right on the money. The sole idea was ludicrous, and yet…

“So, that’s it?” Tucker asked, looking up from his own set of photocopies, incredulous. “Witches are just humans who, inexplicably, won the superpower lottery?”

The Goth just smiled sheepishly at him. What could she say, anyway? Though witches weren’t against scientific discoveries or careers (Star herself was studying to become a mathematician), magic sort of was their thing; literally. So nobody had ever really delved on why or how they’re different from other humans.

Scratching his chin in thought, Danny tried reconciling what Sam said to his own encounters with the spellcasters. When he thought about it, Lady Arcana and her witches really weren’t any different from any other citizen of Amity Park; the only surprising thing about them was their Queen’s unique eye colourーher being breathtakingly beautiful didn’t matter since her personality needed an awful lot of workーand their characteristic ability to do magic...and maybe their questionable taste in pets.

But that was it.

Other than that they were as human as his own family. Even their hatred of ghosts was in synchrony with the town’s general opinion of him. Perhaps if he treated the Witch Queen as any other girl, things would smoothen between them. It made sense that part of her prickly personality was a result of him consciously treating her differently than he would treat others. Deep down, she knew they were unwelcomed, and therefore, built walls around her to avoid getting hurt.

“Look at you, worrying over making the Witch Queen feel comfortable around you...You’re a lost cause, Fenton.” Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes at himself, having more important matters to take care of. “Sam,” he called out to her, startling her and Tucker out of their own conversation, “is there a way you could tell us about their spells or something?”

It was a risky question, he knew. But, as useful as learning to deal with the witches was, what they really needed was a way to put an end to the crisis threatening both dimensions. And the only way to do it was by finding a portal-related spell.

Eyes widening at his question, Sam could feel her stomach churning ominously. That question was a bit too specific for her liking. Depending on how she handled the situation, she could either masterfully take care of it or put her subjects in danger over a potential misunderstanding. “Their spells? What do you mean?”

Danny pretended to look through his own set of copies, trying to appear nonchalant, as if his question were born from mere curiosity, rather than a sense of impending doom. “Nothing, really. I was just curious. I mean, would witches even cast spells, or would they voluntarily just manifest their powers like ghosts do?” As he spoke, his mind raced back to the floating book Lady Arcana had, without any kind of warning, shoved in his face during her last visit.

The Goth had to resist the urge to spit in disgust at the notion of being compared to those disembodied remains of human consciousness. She took a subtle breath to ease away her repulsion. “It’s hard to say.” She lied. “Since there’s no clear evidence that true, real-life witches ever existed, ーand I’m sure they don’t, obviouslyー.”

“Obviously.” The two men seated with her echoed.

“ーthere’s no definite hypothesis explaining if they truly casted spells or not. For all we know, their famous rites and ceremonies could just be that; ceremonies belonging to pagan religions that were thought to be witchcraft by Christians.”

“Any chance we might be able to find any spell on the Internet?” Tucker wondered, readily taking his trusty PDA out of his pocket, causing Danny to sigh tiredly upon noticing the device in his hands. While Tucker used his tablet and computer when doing assignments or playing video games, that was solely because the screens were bigger. He’d actually been in a loving, committed relationship with his PDA since he first got it when he was 14. As time went by and technology evolved, instead of adjusting with the times, he put all his engineering knowledge to use with the sole intention of updating his baby and never having to part ways from her.

It was both kinda cool and a little disturbing, to be honest.

Leaning back on her chair and crossing her legs at her knee, mirroring Danny’s own stance, Sam propped her face on her hand, a bored expression plastered on her face. “Although I do find your commitment to recycling that old thing of yours instead of falling for the capitalistic trap that is technology consumption commendable,” she said, and Danny was sure his eyes must’ve popped open at seeing her utter that long-ass speech without so much as pausing to breathe, “sometimes I worry about you.”

Offended, Tucker frowned at her, only clutching his PDA tighter in his hands. “I’m mercifully going to choose to ignore everything you just said except for the part when you call me ‘commendable.’ Now, can I look for information on the Internet or not?”

Leaning forward, this time resting her chin on her knuckles at the same time as she propped her elbow on her bent knee, Sam shrugged, not really caring. “You can try, but chances are you’re only going to find Halloween articles from children’s magazines, or weird Satanist websites asking you to offer a sacrifice in exchange for joining them.”

As Tucker flopped back down on his chair with his arms crossed, pouting and grumbling something along the lines of, “Damn it, Jazz…”, Danny tried fishing for more information. “So they don’t really cast spells?”

The discomfort came back. She knew Danny was only trying to be thorough with his assignment, but that didn’t change the fact that his questions hit a little too close to the mark. “The only way to find out for sure would be meeting one in real life.” She said in a voice so low, even with his enhanced senses Danny almost didn’t hear her.

Noticing the tension suddenly coming off of Sam, her previously laid-back and even playful posture changing to a much more tense one: legs crossed tightly, her shoulders stiff, both hands clutching at the fabric of her shorts…; Tucker decided it’d be best if they let the topic go for a while. And so, he did what he did best:

He abruptly changed the topic.

“So Sam,” he called out to her, quickly getting both her and Danny’s heads to snap to him, “I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

“Tell you what?” What was he doing?

“What’s your deal?”

Sam blinked. “My deal?”

The teal-eyed young man just nodded. “Yeah, what’s your type?” He asked as he leaned forward, mindlessly toying with his PDA. “Because in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve not seen you once with a boyfriend, not even a fling.”

“Tucker, you’ve known me for a year.” She reminded him. “Not necessarily as much time as you make it out to be.”

“Hey, a lot can happen in a year!” He defended.

“Tucker himself has had three different girlfriends in the last three months.” Danny added.

“See?” Then, he turned to his best friend with an unamused expression on his face. “But, dude, don’t say it like that; you make me sound like a player.”

“I’m just saying,” the black-haired youth put his palms up in surrender, a lazy grin on his face, “it’s not bad for a guy who was rejected by every single girl back in high school.”

Tucker just glowered at him, before turning his attention back to Sam. “So...back to the question; what’s your type of guy?”

She could not believe this was happening. Back when she was a teenager, a tinsy bitsy part of her she tried very hard to suppress secretly longed for talking about girl stuff with the other girls her age from her clan. Something as silly as talking boys, makeup, or any other teenaged-girl nonsense with other people would’ve made her lonely childhood all the more bearable, and now…

...now she was being offered to talk about boys...by other boys...at twenty-one. And the worst part was that she was actually considering it. Her life could not get any more complicated than that. Sighing through her nose, unable to believe how low she’d stooped, she gave in.

Her type...that was a good question. Back when she was still in her early to late teens, she would’ve said she was looking for a unique guy. The type of guy who valued his individuality and who was above all the pointless trends dominating the public with their pre-fabricated, market-targeted predictability. A guy who didn’t fall into any of the classical high school cliques: someone who wasn’t a brainless jock, or a geeky kid, or one of those posers who hid behind a fake dark persona to get people to pay attention to him.

Someone who embraced being different rather than exploited it.

Someone like her.

But all those fantasies turned out to be nothing more than that; fantasies. Delusions. Sooner or later she’d have to open her eyes to the world. She just wished Gregor hadn’t been the one to open them up for her… After that fiasco, Sam finally learned what she was truly looking for in a partner. “...a good guy.” She practically whispered in the end.

Tucker and Danny exchanged a confused glance once their initial surprise at Sam’s sudden reply, after several minutes of silence, had worn off. It was the former who spoke up, “...I’m not sure that qualifies as ‘a type.’”

“Of course it does!”, she protested. “Just like girls stereotypically fall for ‘bad boys’, we can also fall for ‘good guys.’ And I’ve had my fair share of bad boys, thank you…” she muttered before looking away from them.

Something about the way Sam said those words hinted at a lot more going on than just a teenage girl crushing over a guy with a motorcycleーand hopefully not a ghost one who only wanted her as a vessel for his real girlfriendー, but she seemed to have closed herself off completely. Danny wanted to ask her about it, but something in the way her position stiffened changed his mind. No way would Sam open up to someone she'd just met over something so personal.

Instead he asked, "And how about looks?"

She flashed him a small smile and that alone made his entire week worth it. "I'll admit, I do have a soft spot for guys that aren't exactly average."

Tucker scoffed. "Well, duh! I'd also pick a supermodel over a plain-looking chick any day of the week..."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

Despite the seriousness in her voice, she eventually broke down laughing, the other two joining in on the fun soon after. As her giggles quieted down, Sam stole a furtive glance at Danny. The way he seemed to sense her discomfort despite barely knowing each other and making an effort to keep her mind away from unpleasant thoughts was enough to make her heart flutter, making her blush slightly at the realisation.

She shook the feeling off, though. Danny was sweet, and maybe a little cute despite his, apparently, natural awkwardness, but she wasn’t looking for romance, having much more important things to take care of. Besides, he really wasn’t her type, cute as he may be. Still, that didn’t change the fact that she wanted to thank him for his help in some way. And, against her better judgement, she knew just what to do.

An hour passed by until Tucker had to bid them goodbye, saying he was going to be late for class if he stayed with them any longerーalthough he really, really wanted to skip that lectureー, and so, he left his two friends to their own devices. Another forty minutes or so later, it was finally time for them to go to their respective classes, too.

Rolling her eyes at Danny as he opened the door for her, but thanking him nonetheless, Sam stepped out of the café, her companion close behind her. “About the spell thing you asked me about earlier…” she started, her words coming out of the blue and tearing Danny away from his own thoughts, “I guess, if witches are actually just humans with magical powers, then it’d make sense if they’d need some sort of way to activate said powers…”

Mouth slightly agape, he finally found the words, “You mean like a password or something?”

She looked over at him from the corner of her eyes, a cryptic smirk on her lovely face. “Maybe.”

Turning to face him, her smile widening but never losing its mystery, she waved before walking past him, “See ya, Danny.”

Danny slowly waved at her in return, unbidden, too gobsmacked to form a coherent sentence. Because just like that, she was gone.

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ladykissingfish · 3 years

Text

A Date with an Angel // Part Two // Hidan and Obito

Hidan

“Order whatever you want; I swiped the old fuck’s credit card so dinner’s on him!” Konan panics at this, and refuses to pick up her menu until Hidan takes out his wallet and proves that he was just kidding. Today was Hidan’s turn at entertaining the lovely little lady, and he had originally intended to take her to a heavy metal performance at bar downtown (he was friends with the lead guitarist so they would have gotten in free). However, after he informed Nagato of his plans, he was met with a disappointing “Konan hates heavy metal.”, so he decided to take her to dinner instead. She seemed entirely suspicious when he approached her earlier (wearing a dress shirt and tie instead of his usual dirty muscle tank and ripped sweatpants), but nonetheless agreed to go with him to a quiet little cafe a few blocks down from the house. Konan has never really known what to make of Hidan. He was just slightly older than Deidara, but (in Konan’s opinion) ranking much higher on the “immaturity” wheel. He’s been nicknamed by the rest of the group as “Mr. Never-Dies”, because no matter what happens, what job he takes on, how badly he’s hurt ... he just keeps getting back up. One time he came home with blood running from the crown of his head and flowing into his boots, but rather than let anyone take him to a hospital, Hidan took out a needle and made Kakuzu stitch the gash on his forehead. No painkillers, no alcohol, not even any flinching. Anyone else would have been substantially messed up after such a heavy blood loss ... but Hidan was just fine, in fact laughing and talking like nothing was amiss. He’s extremely foul-mouthed and has a thing for telling dirty jokes, but today, on his date with Konan, he’s making a great effort to restrain himself. Hidan wants very badly to put his arm around her waist as he walks along beside her, but resists as he knows Nagato will tear him a new asshole if he makes her in anyway uncomfortable. He’s at a loss for what to talk to her about, so he simply asks her how she’s feeling. There’s a pause, and she goes “I’m not really sure. I lost my mood ring yesterday.” He bursts out laughing, so hard that she blushes. “That’s pretty damn funny, lady.”Konan tilts her head in surprise; nobody had ever complimented her humor before. In fact she’s usually told that the few jokes she does make are very flat, or somewhat dark. Fast forward to the cafe, where Konan is surprised again that Hidan asks for a table that’s “quiet”, and pulls out her chair for her. The waiter comes back and Konan is amused by the amount of food that Hidan is ordering. When it’s her turn, her mind is a blank, so she just orders the last thing he said (which was spaghetti and meatballs). “That’s all?” he asks, as the waiter collects their menus and leaves. “No wonder you’re so slender.” She asks him how in the world HE’S so skinny when he eats so much, and he explains he has a fast metabolism, like his mother. Konan is interested; she’s never heard him mention his family before. As if reading her mind, he says, “Me and those guys just don’t get along. They wrote me off as a brain-dead bastard when I said I wasn’t goin’ to college.” “College isn’t everything, you know. People have to do what’s right for them.” Hidan agrees, and begins telling her his much he enjoys working for Nagato, and the type of jobs they do. It’s interesting; when you got him away from the others and in a calm, quiet setting, Hidan was ... normal. Normal and actually very charming. And although he never says it out-loud, Konan gets the strong impression that Hidan has come to consider the rest of the group as being a surrogate family. Then the food comes out and Hidan turns into a different creature altogether. He eats much like an animal, viciously and indiscriminately. But instead of being disgusted by this, Konan ... feels relaxed. There’s an unspoken feeling here, that with Hidan, she can let go and be herself. She doesn’t have to worry about looking pretty, or eating daintily, or acting “like a lady”. In fact Hidan orders them ice cream sundaes for dessert,

then challenges her to see who can eat theirs the fastest. Hidan ends up winning, but they end up with a horrible case of brain-freeze that leaves them both paralyzed for several moments ... yet laughing pretty hard. Even though Konan ate far less than Hidan, she feels quite stuffed nonetheless and mentions this to Hidan, who immediately offers to give her a piggy back ride home. She hesitates to accept; it’s a ways home and Konan feels she’s not the lightest woman in the world (especially after a big meal). But he insists, and she lets him hoist her into his back and trot back to the house with her. They laugh and joke the entire way, with Hidan making numerous comments about how light she is and how good she smells. “That’s one thing about living in a house full of guys for so long; I got so used to the smell of ass and dirty socks and Doritos that I forgot there’s people in the world who know what the fuck deodorant and shampoo are!” Konan laughs so hard at this that she slips off Hidan’s back and lands on her knees in the grass, holding her stomach and howling. Seeing that she likely won’t calm down anytime soon to grab onto his back again, Hidan picks her up and carries her in his arms the last two blocks home. He sets her down gently outside the front door, telling her how much fun she is to be with, when she throws her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard,” she says as she lets him go, wiping tears from her eyes. “Thank you.” He hesitates, then leans down and very gently kisses her cheek, before telling her that she’s welcome to hang out with him anytime, because “I’ve got a million more jokes, doll, and I’ll gladly tell ‘em all to you.” He walks her to her room and chances giving her another kiss, this one on the forehead, before bidding her Goodnight.

Obito

“Can I ask you a question?” “Yeah?” “When we’re at home, when we’re around the others, why do you wear that thing?” It’s the next day, and Konan is at a bar (ironically, the same one that Hidan wanted to take her to the previous day) with Obito. Out of everyone in the house, Obito is the one that strikes Konan as being the most mysterious. To begin with, the day she met him he was wearing a unique orange half-mask over his face ... and never took it off. She questioned Nagato about it but he seemed reluctant to speak on Obito’s unique fashion choice, and none of the others acted as though there was anything strange about it. He joined he others for dinner each night but seemed to prefer sweets to actual food, and he was quiet. Nagato told Konan that Obito was more or less his right hand man within the organization, and had helped him recruit the other members. Obito never spoke to her unless she spoke first ... so naturally she had been surprised when he approached her as she was coming out of her room, and asked if she minded joining him for “a quick drink”. The bar, like everything else, was in walking distance of the house; but Obito took her on the back of his motorcycle. It was a short ride but an exhilarating one ... and it got even more exciting when, upon entering the bar, Obito glanced around, saw there weren’t many people, and took off his mask. He found them a seat at a table near the back, and ordered them both a glass of wine. Konan had tried her hardest not to stare at his face ((which was difficult; aside from a few jagged scars on the left side and what looked like a damaged eye, he was quite handsome)) but eventually he caught her looking, hence giving her the bravery to pose her question. Obito paused for several moments, as if contemplating what to say. “Why do women wear makeup? Why do people dye their hair or get piercings or tattoos or wear crazy clothes? It’s because they have something about themselves that they don’t like, so they try to cover it up. I don’t like my face. I haven’t since my accident.” Konan blinks, genuinely surprised at Obito’s answer. She chances it to ask “Accident?” He gave her a wry smile and ordered himself a shot of whiskey (and her an ice tea) saying he needed something stronger to tell her about it. “When I was a kid, my parents liked to go rock climbing. Took me with to National parks every summer. One year my dad got drunk and took me and my mom up a dangerous path. He pulled on a rock the wrong way, and it came out of the mountain, along with a bunch more, and crashed down on us. Really long fall; mom and dad killed right away. But me ... I guess the devil decided he wasn’t done with me. A boulder crushed this entire side of my body, and my face got fucked ... but I lived. Had to go to a lot of physical therapy. Also had to go live with my uncle Madara — that guy’s a piece of work. But anyway I lived and here we are, right?” Konan is quiet for a long while, watching the ice cubes float around in her glass. “I like you like this,” she finally says, and this time she’s looking him directly in the face. “I understand if you want to be someone different, or like, if you feel like your mask makes you different, but, if you ever want to be THIS Obito ... please come to my room. We can talk, we can listen to music and eat junk and watch movies and talk about books and —“ Obito interrupts her by putting both arms around her, squeezing her warmly. “Thank you, Konan.” They stay for another few hours, and Konan is pleasantly surprised to find that Obito without the mask, Obito away from the house ... is fantastic. He teaches her how to play pool, he keeps her laughing with countless stories about growing up with his “crazy uncle”. At one point in the night he convinces her to join him at the karaoke machine on the stage, and the two sing duets of Disney songs (to the thunderous applause of the few people at the bar).The ride back home is mostly quiet, him driving slower this time and her holding on to him, each filled with their own thoughts. Before they get to the front

door, Konan lifts Obito’s mask just the slightest bit, and kisses his cheek. “This is the best night I’ve had in a long, long time. I appreciate you letting me get to know you.” He smiles and blushes, then slides the mask back into place before opening the front door. Some of the others are in the living room, and Obito quietly greets them before heading to his room. Konan was awed by how effortless the switch from animated and somewhat goofy to reserved and calm seemed to be for him ... and found herself wondering if any of the others were putting on a facade as well. She takes her shower and goes to her room, intending to go to sleep early, but after about an hour of restlessly tossing back and forth, she gives it up. She turns her light back on and picks up the remote to her tv, thinking that maybe a good, boring show will put her to sleep. But before she can find anything, a knock comes on the door. She goes to open it, and is surprised to find Obito standing there. “I saw the light underneath your door. Can I come in?” She takes him by the arm and pulls him inside. Once inside, he slides off his mask and, looking around, finds a seat for himself on one of Konan’s chairs. He opens up his jacket to reveal a small book, worn and obviously read many times. “I saw you reading this last week. I remember you telling Sasori that you finished it. I was wondering; what did you think in Chapter seven, when —“

#the akatsuki #a date with an angel #first date #konan #konan akatsuki #hidan #tobi #hidakona #tobikona

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artxyra · 4 years

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Here we go again, Marinette and Damian met when he had a mission in Paris. They would meet far from the bakery and fell inlove. She gave him a bracelet that would teleport her to him, time skip to after he meets the batfam. He goes to find her but ends up crying on the floor saying things like What if she doesnt want to see me! I need her! I can't lose her! He 2nd guesses himself, tis first time the fam see him like this. He then rants about her, until he sees the bracelet, and they reunite.

@i-is-mysterious, I hope you enjoy this.

Their love story wasn’t a normal one. Our lead male is a trained assassin as his love interest is considered the bakers’ daughter. Well, let’s start with how they met all those years ago.

It started off like any day for a young Damian Al Ghul, a day fool of torture. His mother literally throws him to the bloodthirst of henchmen and fellow assassins. Damian was brutally trained to the bone until his grandfather, call for him.

“You boy, have a mission.” And there it was, the words that would change his life forever. His job was to go to Paris, France in search of an ancient artifact. It sounds like a simple mission, a get in and get out type of job. Only that it wasn’t.

When Damian enter Paris, France, he had little help, but his so-called “guardians”. For the first few days of his mission, he had no success in finding the artifact. Well, that was to be suspected as his grandfather and mother gave him little to go off of, saying that it was a lesson on what to do with little information.

So here was, sitting on a bench glaring at the constant sight if pigeons. It was tiring and he swears the birds are the devil. However, unlike the other days, he sat in an internal argument, a girl with pigtails skip over to him with the biggest smile he has ever seen.

She asks him what he was going before subtly adding that they are friends now. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Um… I don’t know.” Communication with other children was not his strong suit. Some would say that it was his greatest weakness and then some.

The girl on giggles and offers him a cupcake, she then tells him that her father had made to many free samples and ask her to give them out to some friends. She already gave them out to the ones she’s close too.

“I’m Marinette.” She random babbles to the assassin-in-training.

Damian unsure what to do simply shakes her head and speaks the words that would forever bond them together, “Damian.”

The mission lasts for over a month and with each passing day, Damian was falling more and more in love with Marinette. She was treating him like a normal—well as close to a normal person without a hidden background---person rather than the blood heir to his grandfather’s empire. She’s the only person that has ever made him smile, laugh, and overall feel emotions, something that was never a gift back at the compound. Even more reasons as to why he hates that is nearly done with his mission.

“Do you have to go?” She asks with tears swelling her eyes as she looks at him.

Saying goodbye wasn’t something either wanted to do.

“Yeah, my grandfather’s job here is completed, and I’m sentenced to return back home.” He says coming up with a believable lie.

Marinette pouts before she digs into her satchel and pulls out a bracelet. At first, he doesn’t take it, but Marinette insisted that he should.

“Whenever you need, use the bracelet and I’ll be teleported to you.” She then places a kiss gently upon his cheek. Damian was lost at words. He stands frozen in his spot as he watches his love disappear down the streets of Paris.

Little did the two know, that was last time they see each other for nearly ten years.

As Marinette grew older, Damian never once summoned her through the bracelet. She herself grew worried about ever meeting me again as the years passed by.

Damian, on the other hand, had to bury his love for Marinette upon returning to the League of Assassins. He hid the bracelet deep within his little possessions never to see the light of day again.

When Damian turned ten, his mother had sent him to live with his father, the infamous Bruce Wayne, and gain three other brothers.

Memories of his time in Paris all those years ago, suddenly comes back to him when he turns eighteen watching leaked footage from Paris latest terrorism (well unknown to them, it was actually an akuma) attack. Immediately, he runs out of the bat cave and back into the manor. Unsettled by Damian's emotions, his brothers grow concerned and oddly enough uneased. Never once in the eight years of becoming a Wayne has Damian ever shown any emotions outside of stoic facials and sarcastic remarks.

In his room, Damian was a mess. He was nearing a breakdown, but he knew he had to keep himself together in order to find the person he is missing.

Thankfully, for the Wayne family, the next day Damian returned to his old self, but unbeknownst to them he was on a mission. Ever since founding that footage, Damian searched high and low for the name Marinette apparently there were a good number of females named Marinette around Europe. He cursed at himself for never asking her for her last name, but how hard was it to find a sixteen-year-old teen with dark blue hair and blue eyes?

His search goes on for weeks before his emotions caught up to him. Imagine the shock facials of his family finding him having an emotional breakdown in the bat cave crying on the floor. On the bat-computer is a picture of a Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng, age sixteen, current resident in Paris, France.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me?” Damian mutters into his arms as more tears stream down his cheeks. “I need to see her.”

Unsure how to handle this type of Damian, everyone turns to Dick Grayson, who looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dick cautiously walks over to his younger brother. “Hey Baby Bird, I’m sure, uh, everything will be alright.”

That was not the right choice words to say to the youngest Wayne. Fill with rage, Damian jumps up to his feet and yell this at his family, “You don’t understand, I can’t lose her. She’s my everything, and I was foolish enough to let her go.” He then proceeds to run out of the bat cave leaving behind his shock family members.

It took a hot minute before they took off to find Damian, hoping that something bad isn’t going to happen.

He trashed his room. Boxes were thrown across the room, papers of his latest works discarded across the floor. He mutters to himself, “where is it, where is it.” All while tossing things left and right. Damian barely registered the opening of his door and the calls of his name by his family before they are usher away by Alfred.

It was moments later when something color caught his eyes. It was the bracelet she had given him just moments before his departure. Holding the bracelet closer to his chest, he growls out in frustration trying to get the thing to work.

It was an attempt after attempt and nothing happens.

Tossing the bracelet to the ground he lets out an anguish cry to the ceiling.

He could barely register the bracelet’s growing features.

“Damian,” The voice was soft, gentle, something he hasn’t heard in a long time. Slowly turning around hoping that his great wish has come true, Damian refuses to open his eyes. It wasn’t until he felt someone touch his shoulders that he opens his eyes.

There standing in front of him is Marinette, looking like she’s been wars, yet still looking her best. She gasps before pulling him closer to her. It was then that Damian realizes their height difference. He stood a whole foot taller than her.

“Angel,” It was like a breath of fresh air as the nickname escapes his lips. He bends down picking her up before giving her a very passionate and long-awaited kiss. Marinette returns it as quickly as she was receiving it. Nothing could ruin this moment for them.

Now here we are a few years later, Marinette walking down the aisle wearing the brightest of wedding dresses making her way to her groom. It took everything in Damian’s power not to leave the arch and go kiss his bride.

“I do.” It was this simplest of words sealing their love story for the history books.

Permanent tags: @vixen-uchiha

#maribat #daminette #marinette x damian #ml x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #mlb x dc #damimari

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Text

frENEMIES, pt.6 {Quarterback AU}

Summary: Two stubborn hearts forget that we don’t always have all the time in the world to say what we need to and make amends.

Warnings: angst, swearing

Part one

Days passed and Grayson found a way back to his old habits. A different girl on his arm every day, his training and plays immaculately performed and his hair, the stupid fluffy whiskey colored curls, only grew longer as the semester came to an end.

His eyes were always fixed in front of him, no longer searching for the girl he had kept an eye on since the day he started his academic career. No, he was determined not to look for her again. If she wanted to see him as the bad guy, as the guy who can't seem to do anything right nor cares to? Well, he was done proving her wrong.

Y/N had made her choice and it was to think the worst of him and while he knew she was possibly running scared and secretly hoped she'd finally stop and let him catch up, she never did and he stopped expecting her to.

Dreams weren't as easy to ignore as the reality. In his dreams, their hands were intertwined, their smiles wide and somehow, she always had the insane habit of doing trust falls whenever he least expected it and it jolted him awake more than once when she'd just scream "TRUST FALL" and he'd have to catch her no matter how far he was or how full his hands were. Somehow, he found that part of his dream Y/N's personality most vivid and true to her real self.

If he's being completely honest, his eyes did wander a little bit during class, looking over to see if she arrived. To his surprise, her attendance remained perfect, but she wasn't truly there. It felt like looking at a distorted image in the mirror of the girl she used to be and it made him ache, but he had to protect his heart now. She had the ability to tear his heart out, she nearly fucking did and he couldn't let her finish the job.

Y/N had never felt lonelier walking through the halls as she did in the last months of her college experience. She had always had Amina, or at least she had Grayson to argue with. There were a few friends that came and went on the way but those two were her constants - something she could always count on being there, him to be there.

She knew she projected her hurt and fears onto him, that her mind was imploding and her heart wasn't allowed to make any decisions regarding her quarterback, which is a real pity considering how hard her heart fought for him.

There isn't a day that goes by that she doesn't wish she could stop hating herself enough to believe she doesn't deserve love, his love. That she could stop thinking she would be happier with him. That his lips aren't what she wishes to taste before her time on Earth is over and she draws her last dying breath.

And she wanted to do that the very next day after their fight, but when she went looking for him, he wasn't alone. Watching him lock lips with the head cheerleader before they went into the bathroom was enough to shatter what remained of her heart and the will to fight for what she hoped was the genuine man behind what Grayson showed the world.

But that day he proved her right, that he wasn't in love with her and never would be - that it's the chase that got him interested in the first place. Maybe it's because of a prank or a bet to take her virginity, or maybe it's because he expected her to fall to his feet and worship him like everyone else or he just wanted the supposedly mind-blowing hate sex, but either way, he had disappointed her for the last time that day.

She could feel herself fading as time went by, focusing on school and her writing - the only escape she could find. Writing about the pain had made it strong but it also purified her soul. Hiding from the world, she walked the campus like a ghost, occasionally sneaking a glance of the quarterback just to know he's alright.

She found it masochistic, to seek a confirmation of his well-being when he had ruined hers. But she blamed herself for that as well, she was the one who gave him the power to break her heart in the first place.

Love at first sight was a myth before she met Grayson, but he had shown her it's real. And it hurts like fucking hell.

She went to a couple of his games, more to feel less depressed and alone stuck in her room, but also to relive that night he had dedicated his winning touchdown to her...the night that started their end too soon, yet not soon enough.

Neither of them realized how many missed glances they shared - just as she’d look away, he’d look at her with the same anguish she had.

By the time graduation came, Y/N had already gotten a book deal, something she never expected in a million years since she didn't see herself ever being a professional writer.

Her manuscript went missing a month before, but she had found it just a few days after she made her peace with the fact that she lost it - the book she started in her freshman year just after she met Grayson and a week before she met Amina, the same book that was meant to be almost like a therapeutic escape for venting her emotional distress and anything else she was scared to articulate in real life. Whoever had seen it must have sent a copy, but she never found out who. At least not then - the perpetrator was revealed eventually.

frENEMIES was discovered and she had no intention on missing out on this opportunity, even if it meant she'd miss the graduation ceremony.

And still, before she went, she left a note to the man who had inspired the book in the first place - the one where she put down every single detail since the moment she had met him and had her first kiss - every hidden emotion and opinion, thoughts she kept secret from herself as well, every happy smile and hopeful look and even the resentment and pranks and her inner struggle with how he made her feel since the first moment to the last - to the moment she lost him and had to move on.

That note consisted of a single passage from the very end of her book - seemingly unfinished as many things in life are, and when Grayson read it after the ceremony was over and he saw she wasn't there, he realized that he had fucked up once again.

I looked into your eyes and found my favorite color; pretty brown eyes and a mind full of thoughts. Your eyes have the whole world in them and quite honestly, I'm scared. What if no one makes me feel the way you did? But every fairytale has a villain, but you weren't the villain of my story. I was. Maybe when we're ready, we'll meet again. After all, destiny works in mysterious ways and if not, I'm still going to miss you, quarterback. Forever.

And in that moment he knew it was over, truly over and finished with. She had said her last goodbye and he remained with a world of unspoken feelings and apologies. He watched her slip away from him, but that's all he's done - watched and allowed it to happen.

She was special from the start, a mean angel and a kind devil all at once and he loved her since the first time he saw her and thought he was in a dream. He wonders if she ever realized that the only reason he got so drunk that night (his first and only time having alcohol) was because he needed liquid courage to talk to her.

She was beautiful, talented, impatient and stubborn and proud and prejudiced but also incredibly impactful in everything she did - from her protests to save the Earth on Earth day every year, to her little stunt in biology class where she released all the animals. No one knew it was her but him. He admired her for standing up for herself and others who were bullied into silence, for getting herself arrested for protesting and practically starting a riot when a young student was a victim of blatant racism but the dean didn’t care nor want to hold anyone accountable for the incident.

She was a simple woman - as simple as quantum mechanics and he gave up on her far too quickly.

Now, he's moving onto the big leagues, leaving college behind, but that note will stay in his wallet no matter where he goes or who he meets.

And it won't be her.

Not for years to come.

Tags: @dreadingdaisies @strangerliaa @mendesficsxbombay @beinscorpio @peacedolantwins @dolandolll

PART 7

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan series #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan angst #grayson dolan quarterback

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Note

What do you think about the RIka Behind Story? I don't understand about this shift in blame from Rika to Mika? I thought Rika was the one that created Mint Eye based on Secret Ending 01, but now the game is saying that Mika was the one that got the idea and manipulated Rika into doing it? What are your thoughts on it?

SPOILERS FOR RIKA BEHIND. HONESTLY? SPOILERS FOR SAERAN AE AND SECRET ENDING TOO.

Her behind story was supposed to give you better inside to her backstory and her past. It gives you a greater insight into what's going on inside of her head from early days before the construction of the RFA up until the point in which she starts to do what we all know she's going to do. Rika is a very complex character in the sense that there's just so much going on with this woman.

What most people don't like about the entire background is that it gets off in the sense that it's trying to cast aside the blame in the creation of Mint Eye on to Mika. In which case, I have to say that that isn't the case. So anyone that thinks that Mika is the only one to blame in the situation clearly misunderstood the situation and what's happening. She is responsible for her actions, but, Rika is responsible for her own actions as well. They are both to blame for the creation of this cult called Mint Eye because they worked together seamlessly to create it.

Mika and Rika came up together to complete the goals of Mint Eye. Mika may have had the base concept in mind for the organization at first, that is to say that the core ideal of Mint Eye is based on this sentiment that both she and Rika believe in and that is a sentiment that fear and darkness in your heart is what inspires people to prosper, and from that sentiment, came the creation at both of their hands so they are both to blame for this.

Rika and Mika had to come together into the apartment. They had to work together to draw up the plans to make the building, cuz as in Another Story, we understand that the building is still under construction in the many places so that means us posted early built from the bottom up if not constructed completely piece by piece over a period of time. That not only takes time that takes money. To be able to fund this organization, this cult, they would have to be swindling and taking the money from the parties that the RFA hold. I'm pretty sure that every single one of the members just trusted Rika to do the right thing and to give the money to the right groups and it's my opinion that she just pocketed the cash for Mint Eye.

To be able to make the drugs, she would have had to have manipulated people on her own to get that, and I really don't think that Mika was out here doing that on her own. Rika was always the face of everything that they were doing, and she was always there charming people and getting them to come to her side. Who is to say how many people that she tricked from the parties or that she just knew in general to come to Mint Eye? Mika was always in the apartment and due to her illness lost her eye sight later by that point, Rika was doing everything and Mika was just there smiling and nodding as they both did wrong.

You don't just suddenly have a cult. That takes months and months of work. Not only that, we know that there are at least 500 believers in Mint Eye, if not more. This would be noting the Another Story timeline, since we know what V's Believer number was at the time. And when you think about that, you have to realize how much work went into that and how many people would have had to have been coerced to listen to everything. If you want something, you also have to be willing to line the pocket books of people, and that just goes back to Rika stealing money from the RFA or just pocketing it from V. Hard to say, still not entirely sure on that front.

And, nobody was any the wiser because she is such a master manipulator. Everyone trusts her and nobody thinks poorly of her. Rika was in a weird place when she met Mika again, torn up and emotionally not alright. Her relationship with V would continue to be on the rocks and broken as she decided to give up therapy, spurred by the poor choices V was making as well, and the whispers of Mika in her ear to lash out and be angry as she's always wanted. She's suppressed her anger forever, and due to all these factors, she simply was a ticking time bomb.

It doesn't make matters any better knowing that manipulated both Saeyoung and Saeran. She's seen this boy who's clearly suffered so much pain and she decides that she's going to go along with what Mika is suggesting and what she thinks is best, deciding that they can use Saeran as a tool and agreeing that this is the best that he can be. Because, they both come to this idea that they're going to use him for their own gain in Mint Eye. It must have taken her a long time to Gaslight and manipulate him until she was able to drag him away from the house that V bought in the middle of nowhere, right to Mint Eye where she is the one to torture him in the basement over and over again.

I don't see Mika alive when she's torturing not only Saeran but other believers. I don't see Mika alive when she's preaching salvation. Do you?

It certainly doesn't help that Rika's sentiment of darkness is fully cemented and placed in stone the second that she kills Mother Choi in self-defense. Like, that's the point where she admits that every other reasoning that she ever had was thrown entirely out of the window. If she could have turned around it wouldn't be possible after that moment. She is constantly bathing herself in this sentiment that she is this devil and that she is her own Darkness, and yes, there are a few factors from outside people and situations that feed into it; But Rika keeps making the wrong choices, too. She refuses to keep seeing her therapist and she stops trying to help herself, and starts acting out on her more vicious thoughts.

She willfully chose to go along with everything that Mika told her, and she did a lot on her own that Mika didn't even spur, and she says herself in the After Ending of Saeran's Route that she was always aware of what she was doing and that she went ahead with it anyway in spite of that so I really don't want to hear anybody saying that Mika manipulated her into doing it or whatever the excuse is. She admits that she chose to go through with it.

Mika may have come up with the concept, but Rika hide a million chances to stop while she was ahead and she didn't. At any moment she could have said that enough was enough and that this wasn't right but she just kept doing it. She pushed for it. Mika does inevitably pass away from her illness, and Rika keeps going onward and keeps doing things. She never stops, never pauses, never hesitates, and she never tries to turn away. She is complicit in her actions and I don't want to hear any excuses.

Tragic backstory does not equal an excuse for your actions. I certainly don't hate the behind story because it does give me a better understanding of who she is as a person, and it really did help me learn something. However, nobody better be out here thinking that she is not complicit and fully aware of what she's done in her life.

It doesn't matter if it's the Casual/Deep timeline or the Another Story timeline. She admits herself in canon that she knew she was doing wrong the entire time. She is the one who made her choices and she is the one who went ahead with them full steam.

TLDR; no matter what way you try to spin it, she chose to do what she did and there is no excuse for it. Rika knows what she did. Even if Mika gave her the idea, she had to do countless things to get to where she got to, and no amount of trying to cast blame off onto another person is going to take that away. You can say that Mika played a role, and you can say that V played a role, and you can say Rika played a role. There are countless factors and things that play into this situation. But one thing is for sure, Rika knows what she did and she did willingly every step of the way WITH Mika.

#mod kait #ask #anon #discourse #spoilers #spoiler

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gothamcityneedsme · 3 years

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I saw this bouncing around my dash and decided to fill it out myself for fun :) I decided to not double-list any games, and I tried to mix up the companies I used too so that the list would be more unique.

Long post, so I’m doing a readmore for my longwinded part lol.

(read more)

Favorite Game: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 2: The Sith Lords - I could talk about this game forever. How it tears apart the Star Wars universe from within, how it creates a compelling story while challenging the usual themes, etc. I could talk for ages about the characters and how their motivations slot in place, and how this game lends itself to interpretation and analysis alongside roleplay. It’s just a wonderful game, one I deeply love and will always love. It’s a game that isn’t afraid to have you talk to other characters for twenty or thirty minutes at a time and honestly I’m always riveted at every line. This game deserves the cult fanbase it has, but I think there’s a lot the fanbase misses in appreciating this game. (Note...gameplay is a little janky and a community made mod restores a lot content that was cut before shipping-the game wasn’t properly finished).

Best Story: Fallout New Vegas - It’s the setting that makes the story here, and all the moving pieces and factions alongside the main conflict really make this game stand out. There’s so many little pieces to find along the way in the world and the way the main quest splits based on who you want in power feels important--and you are choosing a future for this whole region.

Favorite Art Style: The Witness - This game is peacefully wonderful with its visuals. There are wonderful nature scenes and nests of wires and panels spreading in various parts of the island that are fascinating to look at. The environment is half of the gameplay in most areas, so it’s important to look around even though exploration is not really the gameplay. You find puzzles in the world, even in nature, and it’s fascinating. The colors are bright and beautiful. There is even a map in the middle of the island inside of a lake that helps you track your progress if you notice it (it isn’t like a normal ‘map’).

Favorite Soundtrack: Shin Megami Tensei IV - I love video game soundtracks, but SMTIV is something special. The music booms in ways that make you really understand the atmosphere of the world, and there’s a great mix of different kinds of tracks for different places. I love the tracks for the other worlds you enter, and the themes of the different routes are done so well. Some of the music draws from past SMT games, but the remixes done for this game really are stunning to me, and there’s so many fantastic original tracks.

Hardest Game: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - I love this game but I literally never touch it without a walkthrough, which is why it gets to be the hardest game on the list, despite being a point and click adventure game lol. Also just emotionally this game is challenging too, but I definitely mean this more in terms of getting a ‘perfect run’.

Funniest Game: The Stanley Parable - Trying to make this list has taught me that I don’t really play many ‘funny games’. I don’t know if a game where multiple endings demand that you kill yourself should count as a ‘funniest game’, but it is also a game where the narrator tells you to stare at a fern and memorize its features, so....it counts.

Game I Like that is Hated: RWBY Grimm Eclipse - I’ve been playing this game since it was in early access and have loved it the whole time. I find the gameplay soothing and fun, and I like playing the different characters. It’s a game I play to chill out and just enjoy some fun battle mechanics. It’s a fun game and I’ve spent over 100 hours in it, so I hope I like it, lol.

Game I Hate that is Liked: Nier Automata - Neither this game’s gameplay or story impress me, and the fact that you have to replay basically the same stuff from a more boring-to-play-character’s pov in order to SEE all of the plot is a huge damper on the experience. The story, to me, someone who engages with a lot of robot-focused fiction, is far from impressive or new, and it hardly engages with genre specifics at all, let alone in a new or interesting way. I view this game as ‘a story with robots in it’ rather than ‘a story about robots’, which, to me, is a detriment.

Underrated: Nevermind - This game is amazing and very unheard of--and when it is heard of, it has been marketed incorrectly. Nevermind seems like a horror game, and does market itself as one a bit, but it’s much more than that. It’s more about trauma, recovery, therapy, etc. This is a game that is so mindful about the topics it engages in that I am impressed by it every time. It’s heavy with symbolism and character, despite lacking conversations or other similar game mechanics. This is a lovely game that I really wish more people knew about-`p5-all of the patients are so interesting, and the focus on recovery and mental health is impressive.

Overrated: Fire Emblem - I sort of mean this as the series as a whole really. I have enjoyed the entries I have played somewhat, but I overall consider the series much less impressive than I was led to believe by others. The gameplay especially is not impressive to me in any regard, even though I sometimes do find myself enjoying it. The stories are alright, but many of them are weighed down by the gameplay and as a writer and person who likes to analyze writing, it’s very hard to do so when it isn’t able to fully exist under the chains the gameplay forces on it. There are ways to mix gameplay and story well, Fire Emblem has not really done that in any of the entries I’ve played. That being said, I don’t regret playing them, and I will occasionally replay, but I consider them mediocre games at best.

Best Voice Acting: Devil Survivor 2 - I love the voice acting in this game. I feel like all the characters are really suited to their voices, and it’s really easy for me to visualize their voices. They really bring the game to life and make both the dramatic and the funny scenes more enjoyable.

Worst Voice Acting: Jedi Knight Jedi Academy - I love this game, I really do, but some of the voice acting is janky. Some of it is okay too--I think Kyle Katarn’s voice actor does fine, and some of the others I like NOW but hated when I was a kid, but the male protagonist voice in this game is just awful. Which is bad when Jennifer Hale is the female voice actress lol. His performance is passable though unless you’re playing darksided--the darksided ending to the game lacks all punch when you’re playing the male protagonist.

Favorite Male: Battler Ushiromiya from Umineko no Naku Koro Ni - He’s the protagonist for most of the visual novels and I adore him utterly, especially once you move past episode 2. He’s a wonderful character who I care about deeply. I love his drive and how he fights--he’s someone who is easy to cheer for. He matures well throughout the series and his character development is just wonderful.

Favorite Female: Naoto Shirogane from Persona 4 - I really like how Naoto fits so well in the game, especially for being a final recruit--oftentimes the final recruit of Persona games (post 3) have a bit of a more difficult time feeling right with the group. Naoto works really well though, and I love her struggles and story as well. I think the difficulties she has concerning living as a woman in her field hit very deep to a problem that has existed for a very long time.

Favorite Protagonist: Connor of Daventry from King’s Quest 8 Mask of Eternity - I’m like, one of four fans of this character in the world, lol. KQ8 is not a very well liked game and it does have a lot of issues, both with age and with how much of a departure it is from the series prior to it. It’s strange to take a puzzle adventure game and make it a hybrid with what basically is a shooter, and it doesn’t really work. Add to that the fact that you spend most of your time in the game without anyone around to talk to and it leads to this really polarizing and weird experience. For me, Conner goes through what I would consider to be the ‘Ultimate Nightmare Scenario”. Everyone in the world is turned to stone except him (and he survived out of mere chance) and so now it’s up to him, practically alone, to save the entire world. There is no game lonelier than this. I adore him for his bravery in the face of it, and how he just picks up to do what must be done because someone should do it, and if no one else can, then he will. I also really love how he apologizes to people who are encased in stone while he takes money from their houses to help him on his journey. I really do think he went back after the game was over and gave everyone heaps of gold to pay them back with interest lol.

Favorite Village: Oakvale from Fable - The first Fable is the only one I really like, and it was one of the games I played when I was little, so the hometown in the game always meant a lot to me. I like how you grow up there and how your tragic backstory is there--and then how you get to return to the town years later after you’ve come into your own, and you can see it completely rebuilt. I like to spend a lot of my time in this town, just wandering around it and playing the minigames. Even though I have a house in every town, Oakvale is where my hero calls home.

Most Hated Character: Merril from Dragon Age 2 - I don’t really want to lay into how I feel about Merril, but what I will say is that it was suggested to me that I totally ignore her when playing, and I did so. I only met her for her quest, dropped her off in town, and literally never spoke to her or interacted for the rest of the game. I had a much better experience for it, honestly. She appeared after I made my choice in the end of the game, which felt weird since I hadn’t spoken to her in several ingame years, but other than that, the game was totally fine without her. I sort of just wish you could kill characters in DA2 the way you can in DAO, then I’d just do that, tbh. It doesn’t suit very many (or any) of the characters I rp in DA2 to keep her around or support her in any way.

First Game I Played: Mixed up Mother Goose Deluxe - I’m not actually sure if this is the FIRST game I’ve ever played or not, but it’s one of the first I played alone as a kid. I really loved it--this is probably what created my love for point and click adventures, and the game was very silly and fun.

Favorite Company: Bioware - I’ve always been a sucker for Bioware games, ever since Knights of the Old Republic 1 was my favorite childhood game. I love how they do stories and party members, and while I’m not a fan of all of their games, I really love what they’ve made and their style of storytelling and character driven plot. Even though sometimes their stories get cliche, I think the suit video games well and most of my early gaming was within their games.

Hated Company: EA - Bioware truly only started to go to shit after the EA acquisition, so I fucking hate EA. I know Bioware had issues before EA too, but I definitely don’t think EA has helped the situation whatsoever.

Depressing Game: The Beginner’s Guide - I relate to this game as a creator and a writer, and it affects me deeply because of the story it tells and the questions it raises. It makes me reflect on how I think of myself as a creator, and it reminds me of friendships I used to have.

Creepy Game: The Path - God, I love this game. It’s just aimlessly wandering around and finding symbolic scenery and watching your current character comment on it. Then, you go off to find your girl’s wolf, and each one is different and unique to her, and you watch it ‘kill’ her--and facing her wolf is the only way each girl can truly mature. Whenever you get to grandmother’s house, the camera switches to first person, and your eyes keep closing, so you can only see while clicking to move. It forces you to keep moving so that you can see, but since you are moving, you only get to see things somewhat vaguely. It’s got a great atmosphere, and I love the symbolic storytelling.

Happy Game: Eastshade - This game is so sweet. There’s some drama around to with many of the quests, but I like this as an rpg without combat, and I think this would be a really good kids game. There’s a lot to see and explore, and the game was made to be really pretty so that you want to paint several aspects of it. It’s really lovely to just wander around in this game and bike around the area, painting anything that suits your fancy. As long as you don’t finish the main quest, you’re free to wander, and materials do respawn, so you essentially can infinitely paint once you get far enough.

Favorite Ending: Virtue’s Last Reward - I love the questions this game asks and where the ending goes. It thematically ties together--the whole reason the game itself exists is to get the attention of a ‘higher being’--the player, essentially. I love how it plays with that concept, and even though the final game in the series doesn’t entirely pick this idea up where this game left it, standalone this game is stunning in how it comes together.

#shitpost #long post #this was fun to do #i made it so every answer was a different video game and i tried to mix up my companies as well #got 3 atlus games on here but mer #2 obsidon #llol #2 sierra too haha but still #beginner's guide and tsp were made by the same guy too but #STILL I LIMITED MYSELF OK #these answers aren't absolute because i was trying to have a good diverse list lol

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andyet-here-we-are · 4 years

Text

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 2 (aka Nurse Geralt AU)

(ao3: x

Chapter 1 Tumblr Link: x )

Geralt is not someone who is an active social media user. He has never been.

Hell, he wouldn’t even use WhatsApp if he didn’t have to.

He thinks that apps like this make people so accessible, and leaves little privacy, and ironically, despite it’s called “social media” it makes people less social. He has lost count of how many times he has seen a group of friends sitting somewhere and scrolling through some apps on their phone or something instead of talking to each other.

Of course, it depends on one’s use, but from what he can tell, whenever you’re online, people tend to think that you have all the time in the world.

So no, thank you very much. He likes his privacy.

Whenever he says that “Social media is for people who don’t have nothing better and important to do,” Ciri just gives him The Look ™ and says: “Okay, boomer.”

He has no idea what the hell it’s supposed to mean, but he is sure it’s not something good.

Once Ciri had downloaded some dating app on his phone without his permission while he was sleeping his ass off after a very tiring night shift. That little match-maker of a girl.

And not only that, but also she had said: “I texted some of the users for you! The ones I thought you might like. One of them seemed nice, I like her energy. So, anyway, long story short, you have a date this weekend. You can thank me later.”

“Excuse me, you did what?!”

Needless to say, Ciri wasn’t allowed to use the internet for three days after that.

“I just want you to be happy,” on the third day, Ciri had said out of the blue while they were reading I, Robot together —they were both into sci-fi, and reading was a great escape from thinking about all the things going on in life.

“You deserve love. Everyone does. Your whole life is nothing but me and your job, and… You deserve happiness, dad. You deserve love.”

“Come here,” Geralt had said, opening his arms wide for her to embrace him, which Ciri had applied.

“I am happy, pumpkin.”

“You could be happier… If there was someone you loved and dated—”

“Ciri, look. Love is… A beautiful thing.” he started ‘Even though it can be hurtful,’ was left unsaid.

“But love doesn’t necessarily mean the affection between a couple. It doesn’t just mean romantic love. Love can be in many forms, shapes, and different ways. Love of self, of animals, of nature, friends, family… We experience love every day when you think about it. You can find it in everything. Even in a slice of homemade pie that Mrs. April brought us today.”

“I love pie! But dad, I doubt that if a slice of pie can tell you that you look lovely today. A cutie-pie on the other hand—”

“Ciri, have you been even listening to me?”

“…and a pie can’t run their fingers through your hair-”

Geralt sighs, “Why am I even trying?”

“Deep down you know I’m right. Dad… How about you just… give her a chance? For me? Just see how it goes?”

"Is it gonna make you happy if I do that?”

“So happy!”

“And you’re not gonna do something like that ever again.”

“Promise!”

“Not downloading stupid apps on my phone, and not trying to set me up.”

“You got it, Cap!”

Geralt had met with that woman, and they just didn’t click.

True to her word, Ciri never has done something like that again.

***

Geralt is not someone who likes social media.

But there he is, looking at the musician’s posts instead of sleeping—even though he has to get up early as always tomorrow—scrolling through the app, and feeling like a high school girl with a stupid crush.

He reads every little caption the musician had written.

Surprisingly- well, maybe not so surprisingly- his songs aren’t the only thing he posts about.

He posts about random things; sometimes it’s a pretty flower he came across this morning, sometimes it’s a kitten, a book he is currently reading, food recipes, his drawings, things like that.

His account seems like just his personality.

Filled with all the beautiful colors in the word. Filled with joy, and every little thing he shares feels so sincere. Personal.

[I tried that recipe @Brianricci has sent me and it still feels like there are fireworks in my stomach, so here’s a little drawing for you my life-saver pasta-mate.]

That one makes Geralt smile. Reminds him of that day.

***

“I have something for you, Mr. Should Have Been A Model But Became A Nurse For Some Reason. Not that I’m complaining, for the record. The only thing I have complaints about is your hospital’s awful food. So awful that it should be illegal. A sin, even. You’re sinning whenever you guys force people to eat that food. I can only imagine your staff’s weekly confessing: ‘Forgive me father for I’ve sinned.’

‘What’s wrong, immortal one? What did you do?’

‘Oh, father, even bathing myself in holy water can’t cleanse me from my sins! I made my patient eat that awful food, I had to, father! I had to! I had no choice! But I have faith that I can change that one day!’

‘Faith becomes you. Stay with it. Keep fighting the good fight with all thy might.’

God help him this man is so ridiculous.

“Why are you suddenly Anthony Hopkins from The Rite?”

“Eh, just felt like it,” Jaskier shrugs “Your jello is pretty good though, so, good deed point. And your nurses aren’t half bad either, so I heard.”

Jaskier winks at him.

The audacity of that man.

“Anyway! As I was saying, I have something for you—”

“I have something for you, too, Mr. Pankratz,” Geralt says. He has a good guess about what Jaskier has for him.

A drawing of a flower.

He had heard the staff talking about how the pretty patient in room 242 has been giving flower drawings to pretty much everyone while he was walking around.

“Why thank you, you shouldn’t have! You brought some wine for me or something? For the celebration for my third week here? You’re so kind, my good sir.”

“It’s your medicines.”

“…ever the heartbreaker. I take back everything I said. You’re the devil in disguise.”

After Geralt gives him his medicines, Jaskier pulls a scratch book under his pillow and carefully tears a page from it. He gives it to Geralt.

“I thought I was the devil in disguise?” The nurse says as he takes the drawing from him “Are you sure that you should give demons a flower draw—”

Geralt can’t finish his sentence.

Because what he is looking at certainly is not a flower drawing.

It’s a man who holds a syringe in his hand with a kind smile on his face, and the syringe is filled with cute little hearts.

It’s him.

There’s a giant cactus standing behind him for some reason Geralt finds it hard to understand why.

He has seen the other drawings, and they are nothing like this one. This one looks like Jaskier has tried his hardest to make it perfect. Put everything in it. It’s perfect and detailed as if he had drawn it while looking at Geralt. It also seems familiar for some reason.

“—in conclusion, devils are fallen angels, so…” Geralt hears Jaskier talking.

Yet he is too busy to say something as he keeps looking at the drawing in his hands.

“Ooops, did I go too far with the hearts?”

“Hm.”

“Geralt? Say something, please? Oh God, I broke my nurse. They’re sooo gonna sue me. And I don’t think I can afford a good lawyer, I’ll rot in jails, I’m too young to rot in jails, I can’t be someone’s bitch, I’m not even—”

“May I ask why is there a cactus standing behind me?”

“A comment! Phew! Finally! Well, that would be because you’re just like a cactus.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow.

“Better than being a weed, Dandelion.”

Jaskier holds his hand to his chest and gasps, feigning offense.

“Words hurt, Geralt. Words hurt.

I meant it as, like, let’s face it, you’re kinda prickly on the outside sometimes, but soft on the inside? A cactus in the desert.”

Geralt sighs.

“And now you imply that my hospital is a desert. How nice. What’s next?”

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s okay.”

It’s obviously more than okay, but teasing with the young man is fun, and everyone needs some fun in their lives once in a while.

“If you don’t appreciate my drawing just give it back,” Jaskier makes grabby hands as he pouts like a little kid that just dropped his ice cream, “I’m pretty sure it’ll look good on my fridge anyway. No trouble for me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“I’m not giving this back. Too late, you should’ve thought that before you gave it to me. Can’t take it back now.”

“If you don’t say something nice about my spectacular drawing you can be sure that I’m gonna take it back from your hands even if that means putting up a fight.”

“How bold of you to think that you’re in a condition to put up a fight.”

“You’d be surprised. And if I can’t, your other nurse friends and your fellow patients can do it for me. I haven’t been handing out flower drawings for nothing all day.”

“And you say I am the devil in disguise.”

“I never said I was an angel, have I? Seriously though, you have ten seconds to pay a compliment to my drawing. Ten—”

“ ‘Okay’ was a compliment.”

“I beg to differ, since when ‘okay’ is a compliment? Say that to the Italian chef in Mamma Mia when he asks how is the pasta and see if he takes ‘okay’ as a compliment and doesn’t pour half-full pasta plate over your head, and ruin your favorite bee shirt. Also, nine.”

“That was oddly specific. Did that happen to you?”

“Eight, I have no idea what you’re talking about, I was just being hypothetical. Seven, six—”

“I bet he wouldn’t threaten me with taking my meal back if I did at least.”

“Sev— wait a second I was counting backwards, weren’t I? Where were we? Five!”

“Man, you’re really no good at math.”

“Wanna know what I’m good at? Many things, and fighting happens to be one of them. Four, ” Jaskier attempts to get up from the bed, somehow forgetting about his broken leg for a split second and swears: “Ah, cock!”

Geralt barely holds back a laugh at that one.

“Careful.”

“I can still verbally fight you.”

“You’ve been already doing that for the last five minutes.”

“…three.”

“You never give up, do you?” Geralt rolls his eyes with a smile, “It’s a good drawing. I really like it.”

Another lie.

He doesn’t just like it, he loves it.

But even saying that he likes it is enough to make Jaskier beam at him.

“You gave everyone a flower drawing,” he points out “but I get a cactus and a drawing of myself, why is that? It must have taken some time to draw this.”

“A special drawing for a special nurse.” Not making eye contact, Jaskier says so softly that Geralt nearly misses it. “Yeah, it sure took some time to draw it, and my schedule was so full because of all the crazy hospital parties you guys keep throwing that I could hardly find the time, but eh, I managed somehow.”

“Sucks that they never invite me to that parties,” the nurse jokes back. “Seriously though, thank you. I appreciate it.”

“I’d like to draw something for Ciri, too. But I’m saving it for later when I can meet her. You didn’t tell her that I’m here, right?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Good! Keep it that way.”

***

Smiling at the memory, Geralt rises from his bed to take the drawing from his bedside drawer. No, of course he doesn’t look at it every day, what are you talking about?

If he hadn’t promised Jaskier that he wouldn’t let Ciri know until these two can meet in person, this drawing would be on his wall already.

Maybe next to Ciri’s painting of a white wolf.

He had considered doing so but then decided that it would be wise if he didn’t. No doubt Ciri would figure out it was Jaskier’s drawing as soon as she would see it. It was signed by him, after all. Not that Ciri couldn’t figure it out without the signature.

“What the hell, Geralt” The nurse snorts to himself and runs a hand over his face as he imagines his room filled with the drawings of his daughter, and Jaskier’s. “What are you gonna dream about next? Ciri being a flower girl at your wedding?”

Fuck.

He is totally dreaming about it now.

God, it’s crazy how much he misses him, even though he doesn’t really know him.

Ciri already is crazy about Jaskier, and Geralt looks forward to them to meet, to see how Ciri is going to react when she sees him. He feels like the two would talk non-stop, and he would just listen to them talking about God knows what.

He would have no problem with that; in fact.

“I’ll give him a call tomorrow,” he thinks.

He wants to see Jaskier again.

(Thanks for reading! Sorry for the lack of Jaskier in this chapter, but it was like:

-So, it’s time for you to meet Ciri!

-Hah, well, I love her, but I don’t think so. Not yet.

-But Ciri-

-You can have me as a Flashback Guest in this chapter, nothing more.

-But my plan wasn’t like this.

-Too bad, I’m my own character.

Let me know what you think please. Have a good day everyone ~ 💛)

#the witcher #jaskier #geraskier #nurse geralt au #my writing #I Would Get Into Millions Of Accidents Just To See You #geralt of rivia

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meowdymista · 3 years

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vi. ditmas & devil’s backbone

Part of the Devil’s Backbone project - Masterlist - redrafted on ao3

Notes: as I mentioned, this whole project began because I didn’t like how unhealthy Abigail and John’s relationship is in RDR2. There is a second unhealthy relationship I feel isn’t dealt with in game... I like slapping people in the face with the truth and this bitch really needed a wake up call

BTW, I should mention that whilst I do not expect any takers, if there is something else you want to see in this project, I’m open to requests :)

There’s whispering behind the door. Arthur makes a harsh remark-

“He’s not my son.” More murmuring. “It don’t matter - he ain’t mine.

“Naw, you had your chance, Mary. Quit it - you were married, you could’ve had children. Don’t pretend like you didn’t for my sake.” A pause. “Why? ‘Cause the way you left me was that it was the end. Either you’re lyin’ right now or you were playin’ me.” Another silence. “You can’t honestly think I waited. I’ve had a son, Mary. Isaac was born and buried whilst you was off pretendin’ I didn’t exist. No, o’course I didn’t love her the way I loved you, but you didn’t exactly give me a choice-

“You have to be kiddin’ me right now - you were married. You went and married someone else - what did you think I was gonna do? Wait? For what?

“He ain’t my son!” he bellows. “Even if he was, you think I’m gonna take him from his mother? Where’ve you been all this time? I can’t believe you’re askin’ me this.

“Well, you was wrong.” A silence spreads, thick and unforgiving. “Even if Jack were mine, Abigail’s alive and well - you ain’t gonna be his mother. You can’t come in and cherry pick the boy because it suits whatever damn fancy has taken you."

A sob breaks through, but Arthur is firm. “I ain’t goin’ to be that man, Mary. I’ve spent my life loving you, but if you think I’ll take a boy from his mother for us, then we ain’t ever going to work. He had a father, an’ he was as good for him as we are for each other. I ain’t shiftin’.”

“If you cared-!”

“If you gave a damn, we wouldn’t be in this mess! I could understand if you had been there for him, but you were elsewhere when this boy was born. I ain’t even entertainin’ the idea, Mary. I ain’t.”

“You would give us up?”

“With you bein’ so unreasonable?" He heaves a heavy sigh. "This ranch belongs to Abigail and Jack. Jack belongs to Abigail. You wanted us to run, but now we don’t gotta - say the word and we can walk outta here. I ain’t a fool - I know the law’s gonna come for me one day, but if it’s tomorrow or ten years from now, I’m willin’ to give you everything to my dyin’ day. I will give you every last breath in my body, but I won’t uproot their lives for you. They’ve been through too much.”

She mumbles something about wanting to be a mother.

“Is that it? There’s kids out there tha’ need a home still - orphans and the like. We can take one in-”

She must roll her eyes because his tone lowers, teetering dangerously.

“You’re forgettin’ I was one of ‘em. If it weren’t for Dutch and Hosea-” The roar rips through the thin walls. “They were better to me than my own father! They would have taken you in as well, despite your spoiled attitude but of course Daddy didn’t like me-”

“Daddy is dead!”

“And so is Hosea!” There’s a thump. “So is my mother and father, but you don’t see me cryin’ about it! Naw, you come in here and want to make another boy an orphan, take him from his mother so you can play house!”

“I want a family for us, Arthur!”

“Then why did you wait ‘til you promised your hand to another man?” A pause. “Yeah, I know about it. I knew ‘bout your daddy too. I’ve made enough excuses for you over the years, Mary Gillis, but I still had faith.” A bitter scoff. “I’m a fool when it comes to faith. I put it in all the wrong places, and when it comes down to it, it’s worthless. Ain’t worth a penny.”

“Arthur, you need to rest. You’re getting yourself all worked up over nothing-”

“Ain’t nothin’, Mary.” They must be looking each other in the eye, speaking silently. “I spent years tryin’ to get where I am, and I’m still not good enough. I could be the king of England and you would find fault in me. I give up.”

“Arthur-!”

“I give up, Mary. I- I give up.” The bed creaks as he lowers his weight, his face burying itself into his hands. “I hate how much I loved you. I’m still the man you met all them years ago and… I can’t pretend I’m somethin’ I’m not. Not anymore. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have so many excuses up your sleeve."

"Arthur-"

"You were the only one. You were the only one for so long and I’ve lost so much waitin’. I’m startin’ to wonder if you would ever looked twice without money in my pocket.”

“Arthur, please-”

“No, Mary.” His voice is low, barely more than a whisper. "I'm too old. We're too old to keep messin' like this."

"I'll leave him!"

"Naw, you won't." He sniffs loudly. "An' you shouldn't. You've had me for a fool for many a year an'- an' losin' you… losing you weren't even the worst part. Hosea... Isaac… Lenny, Sean, Eliza! Hell, watchin' Dutch lose his head? Tryna pick up the pieces after we lost Marston? All of tha' still hurts a lot more than you choosing your daddy over me. It hurt more then and it hurts more now!"

"Arthur, please! Don't say what you can't take back!"

"Why not? After everything you put me through, why is me tellin' you the truth of the situation too much?"

"Because I know you don't mean it!"

"Oh, but I do mean it, Mrs Linton. I do." A prolonged silence is broken only by the woman's sobs. She must try to move closer because Arthur breathes out heavily. "Naw, that ain't a good idea. I… I'll fetch Ms Roberts. She can help you clean up an'- an' get ready for your journey."

Abigail barely scrambles away from the doorway in time before it is wrenched open, a sobbing Mary Linton reaching for him. "Arthur!"

"Mary! I can't keep doing this! I can't!" The door closed again, muddling the sound. Abigail creeps forward, peeking through the gap of the door.

He is kneeling with her on the floor, cradling her face in his hands as her fingers brush his leg.

"I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that your image was going to be burned on the inside of my eyelids. I've thought about you every minute of every day since that moment, and I know it ain't gonna just go away. But we-" He lifts her hand and holds it against his chest, pressing her palm against his ribs to feel his heart. "We ain't gonna make it. We was never gonna make it."

"Arthur-!"

"It doesn't matter whether I got dragged to Guarma. We was over years ago. I… I can't trust you to love me the way you say you will after what happened with your daddy. I can't."

"But Daddy-!"

"I know, Mary. I know, but my life here with Abigail and Jack? That's what's keepin' me goin' now. Every time I hold you I can feel myself gettin' angry at all the lost time, an' it ain't worth it no more. You will always mean everything to me but what we had is in the past now. I can't keep playing this game. I won't."

He seems surprised to find her so nearby and clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable at the thought of being overheard. "Would you mind helping Mrs Linton? She's going to be leaving us tomorrow an' well…"

He trails off with a sigh. His bloodshot eyes are all the more blue as he stares into the embers of the fireplace.

"Of course, Arthur." She touches her fingertips to his arm in condolence and is surprised when he clasps her hand, eyes still staring blankly.

"I'm gonna go for a ride with Gwyn. Think you'll be alrigh'?"

Her breath catches as he meets her gaze. "Of course. Take as long as you need."

He nods, patting her hand as he turns his head back to the fading light of the logs. Abigail stands up straighter and retraces his steps into Jack's bedroom.

The usually so gracious woman is crumpled on the floor sobbing into the mattress. As Abigail steps forward to help her up, the door slams shut, causing her to flinch and sob all the harder.

"C'mon now, let's get you sorted."

She resists Abigail's tug, wiping her streaming face over the back of her hands. "I don't understand what's gotten into him. He promised me…! Whenever you call, I come - what's changed?"

She fights the urge to roll her eyes. "Does he need to have changed? You're moving onto your second husband-"

"It didn't matter with Barry!"

She sighs sharply, folding her arms unable to bite her tongue. "You have no idea the shit we have been through to get here." Mary tries to interject, but the floodgates have been opened. "We have been through literal shit since you last showed your face. Right now, he is all me and my little boy have left! We lost his father, we lost Dutch and Hosea, and we have lost all of our family - what you see here on this ranch is all that's left of that life." She picks up a perfectly folded blouse and throws it at the open travel bag across the room. "He is a good man, and he has been in love with you as long as I can remember. I couldn't understand why everyone else hated you when you made him so happy, but I guess you opened my eyes on that now."

She continues to throw items at the bag, getting more agitated as she goes. "I gave you as good a welcome I could, but Arthur was right about just how spoiled you are. You ain't ever had to work a day in your life! You ain't had to go hungry so your boy could have clothes that fit! You ain't ever seen the time and energy Arthur puts in to make sure everybody else is alright ‘cause you ain't ever stayed long enough to see it with your own eyes. You're a fool for letting a good man like him go!"

"What would you know?" retorts Mary, still picturesque with mascara running down her cheeks. "What would you know about any of this?"

"Because he's been right in front of me too!" Abigail huffs, pushing loose tendrils out of her face. "I loved Jack's father, I loved him as much as you love Arthur, but he was either useless or he didn't care enough to pretend to give a damn. We argued worse than you two, but I loved him and it's only now that he's gone that I- I can be myself. I can just be a mother. I ain't fightin' no more, ain't tellin' myself all these 'if only's. I've seen Arthur do the same right up until you showed up at the gate. Since then he's been miserable an' I'm personally peggin' it on you."

She gets to her feet, pulling a skirt from Abigail’s hand. “Are you sweet on him?”

A laugh slips out before Abigail can swallow it, and it’s greeted with Mary’s palm flat against her cheek.

Abigail’s head snaps around with the force, and catches a glimpse of Jack’s eyes in the crack of the door.

“You’re a strong woman, Abigail Roberts.” The smoke furls over his lips, the blue steel of his gaze staring out over the horizon. “You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for an’... well, if you won’t do it for Marston, do it for Jack. You’re his mother an’ the one constant in his life - I like to think you would give me the boot if you thought it was best for you both.”

Mary steps forward, squaring her shoulders. “What have you been telling him?” she yells between sobs.

“I aren’t him, I ain’t her, or any of your stooges! You don’t owe me nothing - I don’t owe you nothing! Nothing! I’ll spit in your eye - I did! I told them! Yeah, I told ‘em, an’ I’d tell ‘em again!”

“What have you done to make him hate me?”

“Now I’ve got God’s ear! Mr Milton and Mr Ross, about the bank robbery. An’ I wanted them to kill you! Oh you ain’t so big now are yer?” Arthur murmurs in Dutch’s ear, his hand over his, pushing the gun to the ground as she laughs manically into every stunned face that’s gathered around to watch.

“Not so big now! Are we, your majesty?”

Abigail feels the gunshot through her gut even though there is no physical wound to be seen. She shakes her head, her anger melting into the air the same way her blood had soaked the hollow. “You wouldn’t be here if he hated you, Mary.”

“Arthur and I have always had an understanding and now you’re in the picture-!”

“I’ve always been in the picture. We’ve known each other since I was eighteen years old and every time I told him how nice I thought you were, he would brush it off sayin’ you had better ideas than him.” Abigail shakes her head, trying to forget how brutal he could be when it came to himself. “I don’t know what ideas they was, but he deserves better than that. If he ain’t the best idea you’ve ever had, then you don’t deserve him. I don’t know anyone who deserves him, but I know I won’t have a grown woman throwing a tantrum in my house because it took her twenty five years to realise her mistake.

“I will leave you to pack your things, and I will be civil. Hell, I will even throw in a good word for you, but if you ever darken this doorstep with the intention to harm anybody under this roof, I will kill you myself - Morgan or no Morgan. Now get outta my house.”

A low whistle comes from the kitchen table. “You sure told her, Miss Roberts.”

“An’ where was you?” She snatches the bowl from in front of Uncle and tips the contents back in the pot, ignoring his protests. “You was sittin’ on your ass, letting everyone else do the work as always.”

“Come now, Abigail, I’ve got-”

“To go find Arthur and make sure he’s alright!” She throws him his hat from the table, her hands on her hips as she glares.

“I’d love to, but it’s the lumbago…”

“I’ll go, Ma!”

“You will do no such thing, Jack Marston. Go prepare the cart for Mrs Linton tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, Ma…”

She turns to Uncle, her gaze stern. “Just go make sure he hasn’t been jumped by them Skinners up near Tall Trees.”

“Arthur’s more than capable.”

“I don’t care! Go find him!”

“You women and your hormones.” Uncle grunts, holding his back as he gets to his feet slowly. “Y’know I thought I’d miss your monthly nagging stretch, so far it’s like you’ve crammed all nine in the past coupl’o months - here’s to it getting better!”

Abigail’s face flushes. “What do you mean?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. I ain’t stupid. Jack’s too young, and Arthur looks the other way, but back in the day ol’ Uncle needed to be able to tell who was available-”

“Don’t be dumb, Uncle.” Abigail swallows the upcoming nausea, ignoring the ringing in her ears. “Go find him before I feed you to the Skinners myself!”

“Alrigh’, I’m goin’, I’m goin’ - your secret's safe with me.” Chuckling, he waddles away, leaving Abigail to sink into the chair and bury her face into the darkness of her arms.

A creak of the floorboards forces her to lift her head, her anger flaring at the man that dares disobey but it melts when her gaze fixes on Mary.

"Is that why?" she hiccups. "Why he's choosing you and your boy?"

Abigail breathes out slowly, choosing her words carefully. "No, Mrs Linton. He- I haven't told him yet."

Her large eyes swell with heartache. "Is it his?"

The hesitation sends her staggering outside.

"Mrs Linton! Mary!" Abigail hurries after her but outside she is only greeted by a confused adolescent and an amused Uncle.

"What the hell did you tell her?" Uncle chortles.

Jack is flabbergasted. "She just jumped on a horse an' took off! I thought we was taking her in the cart?"

"Which way did she go?"

"North." His hands wring themselves. "Ma, d'you think she knows abou' the Skinners? She was headed straight there."

Abigail swears and slaps Uncle on the arm. "What are you waiting for?" she cries. "Get after her!"

"I thought you wanted me to go look for Arthur?"

"He can look after himself! She can't round up the chickens in the pen! Go get her!"

The horse whinnies and gallops out the gate. For the second time in as many minutes, Abigail sank down on the porch and began to thud her head against the post.

"What happened?" Jack's arm is hesitant as it wraps around her shoulder, but it helps to ground her.

"Nothing, son. Can you run a quick perimeter? If you see Uncle Arthur, tell him about Mary. Fightin' or no, losin' her won't do any of us good."

He hesitates, but as the tears spill over, he stiffens and mounts his horse obediently. Abigail sags.

#rdr2 fic #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fic #red dead fanfic #Arthur Morgan x Abigail roberts

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medea10 · 3 years

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Medea’s Worst Year of All-Time Anime/Game Superlative

Nobody saw this year coming…except for maybe Barbara Walters! Who could have predicted that this year would bless us with Australia burning, the entire west coast of the U.S. set on fire, stupid people setting fires because they wanted to reveal a baby’s gender, murder hornets, Ruth Bader Ginsburg dying, an almost war with Iran, serial killer mascots arrested, policemen killing unarmed black folks for having a counterfit $20, policemen killing unarmed black folks for breaking up a fight, policemen killing black folks for holding sandwiches, policemen killing unarmed black folks for fucking sleeping, a wide variety of “Karens” coming out of the woodworks, the end of Bojack, the end of Steven Universe, the end of Empire, and a pandemic so huge it’s killed the economy, canceled fun, and given the U.S. president the dumb-fuck idea of injecting bleach to kill the virus!?

SERIOUSLY, WHO COULD HAVE PREDICTED ALL OF THIS WAS GOING TO FALL IN OUR LAPS LIKE HOT COFFEE ON THE CROTCH?!

At least there was anime this year.

…

At least there was SOME anime this year.

…

Biden won the election and Vickeblanca came out with Black Catcher this year.

Hey internet, it’s Medea here to give you her trashy opinion on this years anime and games that she’s watched or played. Because for some reason, my loser-ass loves to do out-dated as fuck memes! I shouldn’t complain, this shit brings a lot of attention to my page every year when I do this. Yes, 2020 was a complete dumpster fire so large that Domestic Girlfriend is crying foul. Many of us had to go on lockdown and ended up binge-watching the entire 957+ episodes of One Piece. I did no such thing. I am one of those “essential workers” so I didn’t hunker down for 9 months straight. But when I was home, I was watching anime. Actually, I would have done that even without the pandemic. I’m an introvert and find the human race to be deplorable.

You all know how this goes. I go over the best this year had to offer me. I had to search really hard to find the good in this year, especially in the anime world. Many things had to be put on hiatus or were delayed to a later date. Just a reminder, I don’t discriminate in what year the anime or game came out. If something came out in the happier times of 2007, that anime or game counts! Let’s get at it!

First Fandom of 2020: Interspecies Reviewers

Did anyone expect a fan-favorite of 2020 was going to be a hentai? Did anyone have on their batshit 2020 bingo card that a hentai was going to grab everybody’s attention? At the beginning of the year, my mind was set on the Railgun sequel and Eizoken. It wasn’t until licensors, streaming sites, and TV stations in Japan dropped this series that I started to pay attention. And got immediately hooked! It’s about three men going to different brothels and reviewing their time with the ladies. And these ladies are of different species! So with every bang comes possible enlightenment, new kinks, or a night of having your dick sucked off more than humanly possible. This anime blew away all of my skepticism and first impressions right out the window. Maybe it’s because I’m a degenerate and am often curious about sexual content, but this was a guilty pleasure of mine this year.

Favorite Main Character of 2020: Moroha from Yashahime

I know the majority of this story is going to revolve around Towa and Setsuna, but can we please focus a little more energy on the spunky, quarter-demon girl?! I know they’re pitting Moroha as the comic relief, but I’m hopeful that she’s going to surprise us one day. We fans of InuYasha would spend the past decade and some change wondering what InuYasha and Kagome’s daughter would be like. This year, we got our answer with Moroha. She’s got this wild side to her, probably due to the fact that she’s spent her entire life on her own. And while she’s silly at times, she can get down to business in a pinch. She has her father’s sense of smell. She has a sword. She’s able to shoot sacred arrows much like her mother. And to top it all off, she has this special rouge that if she puts it on, she’s able to unleash that ¼ demon power inside her and become Beniyasha! Yeah, I know the power only lasts a minute, she’s only 14, give her a break! I will gladly go through another week scratching my head at the confusion this story gives me if I get to see one more second of Moroha and her crazy antics or her bad-ass slaying.

Favorite Villain of 2020: The Devil Believers from Black Clover

This was one hell of a year for Black Clover. It would have been an easy choice to pick the devil and possible super devil that appeared during the elf fight. But I’d like to give a nod to the filler arc villains. And you can’t blame this group for wanting the power of the devil. They’re literally the bottom-rung of the Clover Kingdom and ones with little to no power or mana. So I can agree with why they would want the power of the devil. For one thing, they’d have more power. And for another thing, they’d be able to exact revenge on those who have wronged them. On some occasions I agree with exacting revenge and when it comes to the nobles and some characters in Black Clover, some folks do deserve death. I mean, have you met the king of the Clover Kingdom? Plus, this town and many other poorer towns get looked over by the kingdom. Peasant uprise! Anyways, I thought these people were really crafty in their crimes. I mean, they were able to knock Asta out on his ass with specially made poisons. I was actually hooked to this story of Black Clover (despite it being a filler arc). I know we’ll never see them again as they have been exiled, but it did have me semi-rooting for them.

Favorite Video Game Character of 2020: Honey from Pokemon – Sword & Shield (Expansion Pass)

Sorry Raymond from Animal Crossing!

Honey is the saucy wife of Mustard…I did not expect that to come out the way it did, but here we are! She has one hell of a team you can fight once a day. She looks out for her husband, the dojo, and the students of the dojo like they were her own children by providing food, drinks, and others. However that does come at a price as you do have to give up a sizable chunk of your watts that you collect in raid dens. I’m sure a bunch of MILF chasers were more than happy enough to give her all their hard-earned watts just so they can have their one-on-one moment on the beach with Honey.

What won me over was when that one guy from a rival dojo bad-mouthed her husband’s dojo and she…I think she kicked this guy’s ass herself. I don’t think she used any of her pokemon. Game Freak won’t show it, but we all know she kicked this guy’s ass to a point where he’s begging for mercy.

Honey, for the win!

Favorite Game of 2020: Animal Crossing New Horizons

This game was just Zen for me. I know the release of this game came with some controversy like Gamestop saying it’s an essential business and will remain open for people to get their copies of the game. Hell, I was one of those assholes in line waiting to get a copy on March 20th. Did I predict that a pandemic was going to rage out of control when I got a prepay copy of this for Christmas 2019? NO! I only predict political things, not deadly pandemics! The good news, we social distanced, didn’t catch the covid and got the game.

Anyways, this game has been a non-stop calming and fun ride. I can even forgive their botch-up of Bunny Day. They even have events for holidays I never thought they would ever touch. I mean, does anybody know when Museum Day is? Probably not until Animal Crossing had an event for it! I’ve been able to let my freak-flag fly with designing my island. And this goes way beyond New Leaf for the 3DS. I can make a sign post with the words “Fuck Trump” on it and post it in my yard. I can dig up trees and plant them elsewhere. I can poop in a toilet. I can craft furniture and put my own design on it. My furniture can have Tracey Sketchit’s beautiful mug on it. I can sit on Tracey Sketchit’s face. I am a sick fuck and I don’t care. I can give Raymond and Bob maid outfits. Magical time in my game! My hopes for next year…I don’t know, get the Festivale furniture, get Papi and Olivia to join my island, maybe visit Danny Trejo’s island, who knows, sky’s da limit!

Favorite Het Couple of 2020: Nasa and Tsukasa Yuzaki from Tonikawa

This is one of the most unorthodox marriages I’ve ever seen. But in this 90 Day Fiance world we’re living in, I shouldn’t pass judgement on these two getting married in episode one and not knowing much about each other. Nasa meets Tsukasa as he was about to be plowed by a truck. Tsukasa saves his life. Nasa says she’s beautiful. Tsukasa says she’ll be his girlfriend if they get married. He agrees. She disappears. Four years later, Tsukasa appears in front of Nasa’s front door with a marriage registration form. Congratulations buddy, you’ve got yourself a waifu! In some way, this felt like watching Yamato and Takeo from My Love Story. I was fascinated with them progressing through their relationship. The only difference is that Yamato and Takeo took the old-fashioned route. This couple did everything ass-backwards in terms of having a relationship. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Nasa and Tsukasa’s relationship during each episode. I find them cute.

Favorite Yuri Couple of 2020: Karin Asaka x Emma Verde from Love Live Nijigasaki High School Idol Club

AAAAAAAAAH! I’M IN IDOL HELL AGAIN! Yeah, no kidding! I came this close to putting Miu x Nicole from that abomination 22/7. But thank God for Love Live! There’s no telling if any of the girls from the Love Live franchise are confirmed to be lesbians. But fuck it, all of them attend all-girl schools, no males exist anywhere, and Sunshine gave us Kanan x Mari! Yeah, you know Kanan and Mari is canon as fuck, don’t at me. So naturally, I found more third-years to ship in the new Love Live series. Now I know I should have put up Ai x Rina or Ayumu x Yuu. Especially the latter due to recent events! But Emma x Karin is my OTP.

Now Emma is an exchange student from Switzerland and in coming to Nijigasaki, she first meets Karin and they became instant friends. When Emma said she wants to become an idol, Karin helped her quite a bit. Even though Karin had no interest in being an idol as her modeling career is starting up, Karin would occasionally help Emma out. And surprise, surprise, Karin ends up fascinated with the idol world and Emma helps her come to the light to be herself there. Okay, I’m totally reading this in some fragmented way, but I’m currently playing Love Live School Idol Festival All Stars and the app game has a lot more stuff involving stuff the anime has yet to talk about. Confirmed or not, Karin x Emma for the win!

Favorite Yaoi Couple of 2020: Eiji Okumura x Ash Lynx from Banana Fish

It took me a while to get here, but I finally made it to 2018’s overlooked gem. Forgive me for not being fully caught up, but from what I’m watching at the moment, I’m sticking to my guns and supporting the hell out of this. I mean, I could have mentioned The Titan’s Bride here…but fuck no, I ain’t goin’ down that mess! Ash has gone through a lot, I mean a helluva lot in his past. His cute boy looks have made him a target on the streets of New York, with mafia dons, and with prison inmates. But dude can kill if you mess with him. Then you have Eiji, who is just a literal example of a “pure cinnamon roll (until episode 8)”. These two are as opposite as you can possibly get. Ash is from New York and Eiji is from Japan. Ash likes hot dogs with everything on it. Eiji likes grilled fish and natto. Ash spent the majority of his life killing on the streets. Eiji was a track superstar. You get my meaning. But when we got these two together it’s quite adorable. Ash is really able to change when he’s around Eiji. Ash isn’t some heartless killer on the street about to kill a thug with prosthetic fingers. When he’s with Eiji, he’s a joker that can easily get scared of pumpkins. And even in later episodes, you got these two acting like a husband and wife.

Fandom That You Didn’t Expect to Get Into: Les Miserables – A Girl Named Cosette

Let me explain a little something. Les Mis! I have never seen the play, watched the movie, or read the novel prior to picking up this anime. Not a single one of those! And that’s a bit of a head-scratcher when you realize I was a bit of a musical theater nut in my teenage years. But one thing I do like is when Japan does an anime based on plays or historical events (like Romeo x Juliet or Rose of Versailles). The second I popped in Les Miserables the anime, I wanted to binge watch the whole 52 episode series. It is by no means a perfect adaptation of the Victor Hugo novel. Several key players end up surviving all the way up to the end of the story! But because this was my very first viewing of anything Les Mis, I took to the story of Cosette and was eager to see what was going to happen next in her tale. Unlike the movies and play, Cosette was the main focus of the story besides Jean Valjean and Javert. And thanks to watching the unfortunate stories of Cosette, Jean Valjean, the Thenadiers, Javert, Marius, and the rest, I thought it was time to watch the OTHER adaptations to Les Mis.

…

Russell Crowe sucks.

Fandom That Made An Unexpected Comeback: Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni

Higurashi or When They Cry is one of my favorite fandoms of all time! So naturally when we heard that it was making a comeback, I was excited. It was also very odd that Higurashi was given this sequel or reboot. Ahem! There’s another franchise that needs a face-lift. Umineko still deserves a better treatment. Plus, now that this series was out of the faulty hands of Studio Deen, Higurashi will get the special care it deserves. Believe it or not, it wasn’t just the anime that made a comeback for me, but the manga as well. Since 2009, I’ve read several volumes (out of order) and would every now and then come back to read the story. Back to the anime, this reboot or sequel…you know what, I’m gonna call it a “rebooqual”! This rebooqual sucked me back to the town of Hinamizawa and all the murders. Every week, I find myself comparing the current episode to one from the 2006 version. But then the fourth episode of each arc seems to catch me off guard.

Where are they going with this story and these twist endings to our favorite arcs? I did not expect Rena to turn a simple attempted murder into the end of School Days! I didn’t expect Rika to die in the most disgusting fashion they could think of. Could someone kill Teppei fucking Hojo? I will pay ¥5000 for someone to do that job. So yeah, because I know how much of this plays out and who does what, I’m usually watching and reading while making wise-ass remarks. But I still have fun with it.

Fandom That Inspired the Most Crack: Konosuba

In a year where I caught up with the popular Isekais like Shield Hero and Re:Zero, I found the wacky misadventures of Kazuma Satou to be amusing as all get-out. From the first 5 minutes, I found myself laughing at Kazuma’s misfortune. Seriously, how the fuck do you mistake a tractor for a car, have a heart attack, piss yourself, and fucking die in the first couple minutes to the series? You can only get away with this shit in gag animes! But it’s not just Kazuma’s dumbass, there’s a mage who only does explosions, but loses all her energy after one blow-up. Then there’s a busty, blonde who gets turned on by getting hurt and can’t strike anything with her sword. Anime’s biggest masochist or Cheryl Tunt incarnate, I haven’t decided which one to believe! Then you have this loud, crazy goddess chick named Aqua. She’s also useless about 86% of the time! Watching their unfortunate missions is all the crack that I need to get through this year. Seriously, Darkness is just all kinds of fucked up, but we love her.

Last Fandom of 2020: Yashahime

That’s right, the InuYasha sequel gets top spot here! Even though week after week I find myself asking more questions than when the episode started, I’m still hooked. If you’re like me, you watched and fell in love with the series InuYasha. So if they’re doing a sequel, you’re expecting to see all of your favorite characters from the prequel like InuYasha, Kagome, Miroku, Sango, Sesshomaru, Koga, Rin, and the rest. Actually, no! Quite the opposite! We’ve got Sesshomaru’s daughters, but no Sesshomaru. Rin is sleeping in a tree we think! We’ve got InuYasha and Kagome’s daughter, but they’re M.I.A. None of the girls even know a thing about their birth parents.

Now are these new characters a catch like the ones from the previous series? Some are! The three main girls, yes! Especially Moroha! I’ve already praised her name earlier in the superlative. Towa and Setsuna do take on some personality traits from their parents. Setsuna is definitely serious like Sesshomaru and Towa sometimes has a carefree yet loyal aura to her like Rin. I know I’m always skeptical when a series gives us a sequel featuring the offspring of the main characters. Especially when you’ve got some lame examples like Boruto and Eureka Seven AO (I might retract my diss on Boruto later)! As each week gives us a new episode, we’re unraveling new clues into a lot of things involving our old favorite characters, as well as the new ones. So I have high hopes for Yashahime for the time being!

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mrsunderhill678 · 3 years

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Woops, I wrote again

"What a shame it is, ta recognize the fingers that pulled back the hammer. What a shame it is, when the man in the mirror's the one who shot the gun." - Darnell Bronko

"They tell ya heaven's in hiding and lead you to the edge of your sanity, whispering, "Jump, heaven sits at the bottom." And as you fucking fall, you begin to realize that angels never fell, they jumped and thought it paradise." - Jess Mercikal

"I'm a grave dug too early, digging up my own bones, always wondering why the different are damned whilst the powerful are celebrated for their indifference. But I guess that's just how it goes, huh? The boy who cries wolf is loved by the predator, for he falls easily into his maw. But as he begs for a savior, everyone passes the different boy by because "He asked for it." - Havio Bonecross

"There is no beauty more pure than the release of life, the gasp of the heretic soul whispering like smoke on the edge of the saint's holy knife." - Vareeth Gospel

"She was a delusion of the worst kind. Of the breathing, haunting kind that digs it's fingers into the recesses of your skull and crushes every thought, every memory with dream slathered hands. And she was the worst kind of evil that consumes, and consumes, and consumes until there's nothing left but the girl that was, but is no more." - Zacharia Von Shelrick

"My mind drifts back ta the days'a pain, and every time I see brokenness reflected in the eyes'a that old orphanage. And I can't help but think'a that little girl, chokin' on darkness and delusions before she ever had a chance ta live. And that's what pain does ta ya. It kills innocence and replaces it with himself." - Clayborne Pettygore

"In the eyes'a innocence decayed I met young evil, killin' a young girl from the inside out as if that old eightball had whispered she'd fall inta the darkness without a damn doubt. And every now and then, my darkness reminds me that in some ways, I'm just like that little girl. Dead too soon. Corrupted too young. A grave before I ever crawled." - Sampson O'Connel

"Some men get choice. Men like me get ta follow fate's river as it fuckin' sweeps em away." - Wyval Killsrift

"Son, I'd go inta the dark gently if I were you. Her teeth are sharp and she likes the kinda prey that fights back and dances on 'er tongue." - Wyval Killsrift

"I've got a knife in the back of my throat, and it coats my words in blood." - Wyval Killsrift

"Peel back my skin and tear me apart in search for redemption. In search for beauty. But all you'll find in the remains of my ribcage is a heart faded to black where all the red used to be. I'm a power lusting, sin starving, wretched beast, preying on his own flesh just to survive who he's become. But I like it that way. I always have. There are many forms of death that don't end in a funeral. A kind of death you can only see in the flickers of emotion in a cruel man's eye." - Totalis Sinsbad

"Evil wears many faces. But the evil I met, she wore only one." - Bob Smyke

"I don't think you ever really leave that first high. I was just young and dumb when I went on my first trip. I soared through the air on acid wings and smoke. My eyes spilling with tears that tasted like blood on my whiskey scarred tongue. And I'll never escape that memory. That addiction to the liminal. To the blurred edges of reality. I've grown so achingly tired of this body. I just want to fucking escape myself. And that's what my addiction gave me. But I the snake tongued devil, shaped like pills and needles never told me he'd carve small pieces of me off as I slept and dreamt of greater things." - Mieda Brushvaker

"Escaping reality's a deadly, thing. First, you tell yourself it's just this once. You'll never fucking do it again. And you keep telling yourself that. Before ya know it, people start leaving you because you're just a cocaine husk, bleeding from the tip of a heroin needle. I told myself I'd quit again, and again, but that shit changed me. And in some sinister fucking way, I'm always going to be a junkie, caught between this rift in reality. Cause I just ain't been me ever since white powdered fingers came for me in the dark and choked the reality from me." - Armano Sketer

"I wouldn't get in the habit of denying reality. It's a knife, my friend. And with every denial of it's existence, it sharpens. And it prepares to cut, slow." - Darwin Flowrick

"I'm a lustful, starving, crooked shadow. Feasting off of innocence. off of scars. Off of pieces of fragility and wicked divinity. Many call me a monster, but I'm human. Dreadfully human. And isn't that what makes their hearts run black? I am as human as they who damn me. I used to be just as innocent. But I came for myself, with teeth reddened by the slaughter, claws sharp and hungry for a young boy's innocence. And with pale, crooked eyes I desecrated my sense of self, and tore it apart piece, by delicious, starving piece." - Darwin Flowrick

"Redemption passed 'er by, and delusions came for 'er with feral, rotting teeth. If she ever knew innocence, it curled up in her chest and opened in her heart like a dyin' flower. Blackining. Decayin'. Dyin' before she ever had a chance ta fuckin' live. I once asked 'er "Why?" And all she ever did was smile and ask, "Why not?" And that's such a wicked kinda' evil. Such a relentless, fucked up kinda misery. And I always wondered, as she faded inta the night if she went home ta the darkness she'd always lived in." - Roan Scorpio

"Darkness beats in my chest, like a soft, quiet melody told by very few. They say it's forbidden. They say it's cursed. Dreadful. Deadly. But I like the way it resurrects me. The way it pulls my cracked bones back together. The way it stitches the flesh and sits, like blood on the tongue. I sway under the dying light of innocence, closing my eyes as I know, I've truly felt what it was, to die. And it came for me with pale fingers and crooked, bones. And I like the way it nips at my scars with reddened teeth and tells me this horror is beautiful." - Elzibith Varcoat

"There's a ghost in my head, and it whispers reasons for it to haunt me. You'll fall back, it says, you'll grasp at that sweet release just to escape from the mind numbing reality of who you are. And I always fight back in whimpers, and cries, and tears in the corners of my eyes. It's not so easy fighting a war when the enemy is yourself, and it's who you are on the frontlines. Armed with rifles full of addiction and needles, ready to prod. And tear. And chew away at me until I'm me no more. Just another drug bound, addiction fueled ghost." - Torva Allidaine

"Truthfully, I am not a human being. Humanity was ripped from me first from bullet hole fangs and gunpowder dripping tongues. And as I tried to scrap together what pieces of me I had, humanity was once more torn away from my bones. For pale fingers came in the dark and ripped, away. As if I was just another layer of skin hiding the bitter, rotten goods. So I do what I can with what little I have. I kill a bad man. I fire off another fucking bullet. Because that's all I am. A thing that goes bump in the bad thing's quiet darkness." - Amarillo Crocker

"Sometimes, I must confess, I begin to wish I could rip away at this skin. Like a sunburn beginning to peel. I have stood in this flesh for too long. This aching, heavy, crushing flesh. This is not me. It can't be. I want to fall, like Icarus from the sky. To let my wings and skin burn away with the heat of the sun. If only to reveal the woman hiding behind all this skin. This ugly, defiant, constricting skin. I am a cage. But I've always been a cage. too." - Valdosta Coffenbury

"Hungry, reminding fingers wrapped around my chest. Stealing the air from me. The comfort. The safety. It was always there. Always hungry. Always reminding me I'm not who I should be. Who I want, to be. It lives in the mirror, and the steam from the shower. It lives in my chest. In the edge of a shaving razor as I cut away at facial hair that never should've been there. It's suffocating, sometimes. But usually, it's quiet. In the back of my head. In the back of my chest. The back of the shower. Always there. Always hungry. Always reminding me of the face that isn't mine in the mirror. And that's what it feels like. Being somebody that isn't you. Never was. Never will be. Never again." - Valdosta Coffenbury

"I fell asleep, but it weren't so kind. I tossed, and I turned. I fell inta my first nightmare'a the night. I can remember the pitch black sky. His quiet anger that was so, loud. I couldn't speak. As if the terror, or the sorrow, or whatever the fuck it was sat in my throat, forcing my words back down like tears drippin' from my cheeks. I don't remember much'a the second nightmare. Just red. Everywhere. In my throat, in my words, bleedin' from my God damn eyes. But then I was awake in the twilight, wrapped in itchy blankets and cold sweat, wonderin' if I'd woken back inta my life, or stepped inta another fucked up piece'a me." - Ace Swinton

"My heart's a threadbare emotion, starving on the memories of my mother." - Rafaela Caesar

"I want to see the vulnerable side of you as I slink under the shadows of your bed, to listen to the way your breath breaks and mourns under the weight of a nightmare and dream divided. I want to see you broken as I hide in the shadows of your closet, to hear the secrets you whisper to torn sweaters and dresses you outgrew long ago. Eaten away by moths and woven into a spider's web. But most of all, perhaps, I want to taste the blood of your malice in my mouth as your anger nips at my tongue and tries to kill this man I am. You can never be rid of me, for I am the monster under your bed, who has killed all your shadows, and butchered all your light, wondering what you'd become on the edge of existence." - Darwin Flowrick

"Running my fingers against an old, worn out photograph, I come to realize my sister was a delicate hero to herself. There was a storm in her, a deadly, violent storm of anger and sadness. But when I look into those paper eyes, splashed with her sister's tears, I can't help but think I failed her in some way, as if I'd just tried a little harder, she wouldn't be this cold case in my heart." - Sun Morvosina

"Some sins are perhaps worse than murder, worse than lust, death, desire. And perhaps my mind lusts for the things that will damn it, shoving sins into it's maw and sucking at the heart until it's bone white. But the greatest sin of all, perhaps, is that I am me, and in some way, I always have been." - Melias Skinwalker

"My heart's a gentle, moss covered bomb, and every now and then, a fragile little emotion comes on by and pulls back the pin. Can you imagine that kind of deadly vulnerability to your darkness?" - Ben Stilts

"I dipped my pen in the blood of my identity, and word by word, I wrote my death." - Shilo Andrakall

"I'm gunpowder and pistol smoke rising after the murder of another man's conscience, and as the smell of death begins to brew in the puddles of red rain, I come to realize a soldier dies the moment he steps on the battlefield, and out from his heart claws a monster made of gunmetal sacrifice and howling intentions." - Halzio Vickmon

"Blood on the hands mares the vision of the revolution, dwindlin' it down ta nuthin' but murder. But rest assured, good will come'a this." - Cedric Popovici

"It's starting to feel like this world doesn't run off of what's right, but rather thrives off of what's profitable. We spill blood and we call it noble. We fire our rifles and call it a good cause with violent tendencies. Good, does not come for men like you and me. We died the moment we stepped into a revolution built on the backs of those who fought." - Havar Swanson

“I spent so long thinking something was wrong with me. Thinking that being who I am was wrong, and hateful. But as I learned to accept myself, and met a man in the shadows of the night, I came to realize hate convinces you love is just another afterthought of the foolish.” - Paige Newdelle

“Armello's a kind, soft, beautiful soul, loving me in all the colors we can see. And even some we can't, too. As he kisses me deep, and I run my fingers through his tangled hair, I know the lost can be found, even if it's in their own Neverland. Even if they have to find beauty in a Wonderland of our own.” - Paige Newdelle

“If I have to be somebody, I want to be somebody worth being.” - Camille Trueblood

“If I could, I'd wear all their scars for them. I'd let the darkness swallow me whole. For all my life, I've promised to be their mother, their hero, their best friend. When they're hurting, mama's always here to wrap em up in a big old hug and tell them everything'll be okay. And when they have secrets that dig into their hearts, they can always come to me and unburden themselves. I'll give them everything I never had. Because I lived in a loveless home, and I just want them to know though life can hurt, it can also be so, damn beautiful.” - Camille Trueblood

“In some way, my children are heroes to me, too. I was living a lonely life until I held my two baby girls in my arms. And slowly, more of my heroes came into my life and grew like seeds of love that just couldn't wait to blossom. I must be the luckiest woman alive, to have found such joy after the hurting. To find such love after my heart stopped beating.” - Camille Trueblood

“Truthfully, I'm not a masterpiece. But aren't I beautiful with these torn edges and faded colors?" - Camille Trueblood

“Scars can only exist so long as they're hidden.” - Camila Dillingo

“There's no greater misery, really. Then being surrounded in a field of hateful hands that poke and prod at your identity until you no longer feel like yourself past all those stains of mean spirited words and actions.” - Camila Dillingo

“I think family never ended with blood. It always started with the promise of loyalty, the promise of love that grows and changes with who we become.” - Camila Trueblood

“I know I'm just one voice in a crowd of shouts, but I always had this funny little idea that even just one person can change the world." - Camila Dillingo

“I often wonder who I would be if I was not me. And I often feel as if being a man I'm not would be kinder than being this man I am.” - Calliger Cougar

“I shook hands with a faceless devil, for he's worn a thousand different faces and a million different smiles, only to realize that truthfully, he can never be himself. Again and again he tells me he wants to wipe his slate clean, but his eyes are ever filled with immortal emotion. As are mine, as are mine.” - Calliger Cougar

“We're puppets dancing on nooses.” - Calliger Cougar

“My hands are stained in red emotion, my heart scarred the dirty color of emptiness, my eyes dripping with the tears other men couldn't bring themselves to shed.” - Calliger Cougar

“The world's grown tired now, and as it's eyes begin to close, and humanity reaches it's final hour, we should come to realize with the world's aching last breath, peace shall finally rise golden over the horizon. Humanity's become such a festering plague to themselves, and we're just waiting to rot away in bodies that aren't our own." - Calliger Cougar

“Life's become little more than an instinct, really. My heart beats because it always has, I breathe because that's what I've been doing all my life. I don't live because I want to. Because truthfully... I don't cherish my life.” - Burasbley Highersman

“I feel like a flower that's decayed, and people just take little pieces of my body away because they find beauty in the broken. But no light gets through my cracks.” - Burasbley Highersman

“I can still remember my mother's eyes, filled with ugly horror. And I can still remember all those nights spent in the dark, weeping because I wished this body wasn't mine. This scarred, bruised, fucked up body.” - Burasbley Highersman

“I've tried to escape myself in every way possible. I've touched the tips of death's fingers only to recoil at the feeling of her cold skin against mine. I've killed for substances that left me dreary and high, lost in a fucked up fantasy that I didn't earn. I can still remember the way cocaine tastes on my lip, the way the needle feels pressing against my bruised skin.” - Burasbley Highersman

“I'm like salt in coffee. Everyone always mistakes me for sugar, but recoil and hiss upon the tasting of me on their lip.” - Burasbley Highersman

“I'm just a heavy and cumbersome body carrying around bones that aren't even his.” - Burasbley Highersman

“People say we rise from our pain, but I was never a Phoenix, just a bird with broken wings that never learned how to fly.” - Burasbley Highersman

“Past dis hard shell, tiny cracks begin ta appear, cause dat's da life of a fighter. She swings 'er fists no matter da trouble dat comes 'er way. Dat's what life's about. My fathah taught me 'ow ta throw a fist at eight, I could throw my brothah outta the ring at ten. I've spent my whole life preparin' for the fight so that when it came 'round, I wouldn't be da one bloodied in the dirt.” - Ronda Blousey

“I've got black eyes and bloodied knuckles from all these wars I've waged.” - Ronda Blousey

“I'm a lioness, and my roar lives on the edge'a me bleedin' fist.” - Ronda Blousey

“The cruel, the damned and the monsters own this town in my heart. The inside of my ribcage is etched with old claws and gnashed, broken teeth. Because where all my memories used to hide, only scars now reside.” - Ellise Kivenstein

“Mark and my scars are all I've still got, because my heart beat's slow and only quickens in terror. Mark and I are feeble souls trying to make it to another day in each other's arms, but we feel so cold on each other's skin. We're lost, trying to find ourselves in each other, but I think that hope left us as our children became cold cases and became lost to an ever growing statistic that leaves wounds in the hearts of a parent.” - Ellise Kivenstein

“We're all just trying to gain some ground in the town of bastards and cheats, knowing even if we play the right cards, even if we roll double six or snake eyes, winning was never an option in a town of outlaws and sinners.” - Ellise Kivenstein

“I'm a cigarette tangled mess, skin etched with a mother's scars.” - Ellise Kivenstein

“I wish I remember what it was like. To be truly happy. But I suppose when you lose that big a piece of yourself, you'll never really feel complete. Because no matter how many part time substitutes you shove into that emptiness, it remains a blackhole, consuming everything else you thought you'd always have." - Ellise Kivenstein

“I've got pain in my heart where my mother used to be, and every now and then, I can still hear her ghost telling me no matter how far I fall, no matter how much pain I'm in, I'll always be her baby girl.” - Crescella Shroovet

“Truthfully, I'm playing Russian Roulette with my sorrow, wondering which of us will drop first. It's a dangerous game, fighting against your misery. Because the bastard cheats. I've learned to let go of the things that bring me pain. I can't climb a ladder of knives and blame myself for the way my palms bleed. I can't trudge up stairs of sticks and stones and blame myself for the way the soles of my feet begin to bloody.” - Crescella Shroovet

“My heart's a tapestry of my mother's words and loss, beating slow. Beating feeble. Beating truthful. I close my eyes and remember my mother's arms around me, and I tell myself, in a voice that sounds like hers', that everything'll be okay.” - Crescella Shroovet

“I woke up in a foreign land of ash and smoke, the remnants of my bridges burning in my nostrils and pulling tears from my eyes as I realize life gives no choice to the broken man.” - Asher Shroovet

“My mother used to tell me people are equal in the fact that they all have the choice to be good, but unequal in the choices they choose. But ever since my mother became a cold case in this heart of mine, I've begun to learn nothing ever changes. All but the weather and the nature of man.” - Asher Shroovet

“I used to be part of a silent crowd, anger sitting in my chest but never roaring. But I've learned silence is the kinda thing that kills, so with these scars in my voice, I let my roar be heard. Even if it's a little weathered. Even if it's a little broken.” - Asher Shroovet

“My sister and I are warriors of loss, mourning our angel's wings but knowing no warrior ever got to keep their halo. A hero is a man who fights with honor, sparing the bad man and the good man alike. A warrior is a man who does what needs to be done, giving no mercy to the cruel man because later down the line, another will die for the trigger you couldn't pull.” - Asher Shroovet

“I've learned pain's an immortal thing. Once you feel it, it never leaves you be. But it becomes easier and easier to live with as you grow, love and learn. We're all in pain. We're all hurting. It's what we do with that hurt that counts. It's who we become after the worst of it that makes us or breaks us." - Asher Shroovet

“My pain sits, like barbed wire under my shirt, bleeding me every time I move. Every time I sit. Every time I try to flee. My pain's in the gasps of my breath and the smoke that leaves my lungs. I'm a war of change and indifference, locked away in a barbed wire, human ribcage, wondering why my heart feels so locked up in the past.” - Bryan Jensen

“My memory's a thief in the night, stealing my joy. My safety. My sense of self. It rips into me, like a knife dragging thin white scars across my hurting mind and heart. Always reminding me that I'm not worth much past the words other people say. My scars whisper to me, begging me to add more to my collection. My traumas repeat, as if I'm under a roaring river, tumbling and breaking my bones on the stones of my fucked up memory.” - Bryan Jensen

“I stay alive, if only to protect her from my death.” - Bryan Jensen

“We were just two broken children in a fucked up home, hiding beneath dirty sheets and blankets. Wondering why love never found they who needed it the most.” - Bryan Jensen

“I can still hear the shouts of my father, the open palm of my mother. Their pain became my pain. Their words became my words. It was as if they were a fucked up religion, burying my sense of self underneath holy words and verses, bound in the righteous spine of a young boy's pain.” - Bryan Jensen

“I'm a grave bound shovel diggin' the holy their beds'a eternal slumber, made'a dirt and names forgotten by all but the fuckin' stone.” - Peter Scolifade

“Truth is, monstahs hide in da kindest'a men, and all it takes for that wicked bastard ta break outta his cage is one good reason. And friend, my monster found plenty'a reasons.” - Peter Scolifade

“Cold, deathly fingers wrapped around me chest, stained teeth bit down on my skin, opening red mouths in my scarred flesh. And as the monster within' tore through me, coverin' me in reasons ta die, I knew this was it. This is how saints fuckin' die.” - Peter Scolifade

“I grew up on an old dirt road with nuthin' ta call me own, lookin' for reasons ta live in the ink spilled sky. But brothah, all I found 'tween the stars were bullet shadows and gunpowder constellations whisperin' of the end'a old Saint Peter. And it was there, under the ol' night sky that Peter Scolifade died, and out from his corpse rose a man that looked like him. All but in those wicked eyes, cold and righteous with the promise'a grim ends ta come.” - Peter Scolifade

“I ripped through me sense'a self with a dead man's knife, partin' the red sea in my ribcage, barin' me black heart ta the shadows and monsters'a dis world. And as I fell back, a mess'a things that glisten red in da night and crimson that pools beneath dead men's feet, I knew I was no more than a murder, livin' on past 'is years as a ghost." - Peter Scolifade

“In my mind, it feels like two old friends have collided fist to fist and neither knows what they're fighting for.” - Brandall Mulligan

“Under lonely and begging colored bar lights, I met a devil, wrapped in desire and lust, and all the things that go bump in the night. She's cigarette smoke curling around a dead man's finger, whirring him back to life with empty promises and whispers of a grand becoming.” - Brandall Mulligan

“You know, a ghost of the gambling den once told me that the darkness is welcoming to those who don't fight it. And I'm starting to think he was right. Because the shadows look more forgiving then the light that burns like fire on my back.” - Brandall Mulligan

“I wouldn't take a bullet for me, so why should I expect anyone else to fight for me?” - Brandall Mulligan

“Bullets fall, like red rain down my ribcage, stainin' me heart the dirty color'a murder and whiskey bound misery.” - Ramsey Von Agamasteine

“I was always broken knuckles and shattered windows, walkin' down an old dirt road, trustin' my revolver sooner than me old heart.” - Ramsey Von Agamasteine

“I'm an outlaw of the old night sky, angel's fallin' through my scotch glass, devils clamberin' in the smoke'a my damn cigarette.” - Ramsey Von Agamasteine

“My ma always told me the weak man's easy prey for the bullet, the lost sheep's an easy meal for the starvin' wolf. And oh son, you're beginnin' ta look a little lost, and I got some hunger on the edge'a my bleedin' tongue.” - Ramsey Von Agamasteine

“We're all a silver coin away from a casket, we're all a cigarette away from a wildfire. Life don't care for the dead, but damn, it don't give much a damn bout the starvin' livin' neither.” - Ramsey Von Agamasteine

“Dare ye whisper bout me sin, I'll make sure yer damned by Sunday mornin', beggin' the preacher ta forgive yer wicked misery.” - Ramsey Von Agamasteine

“The thing about people is, they can't heal in the place where they were first hurt. Before they find peace, they've gotta leave the origin'a the pain behind.” - Wilford Straw

“The way I see it, we're all warriors in our own regard, hearts bared on whatever kinda sleeve we got. Be it leather, denim, bare or tattooed. Our hearts are out in the open, and the truth becomes the water in which we feed and grow.” - Wilford Straw

“I once asked a powerful man with pain in the cracks'a his smile and blood on the edge'a his razor where his fall from grace began. And he told me with flickers'a sorrow in his eyes that it started with death. It always starts with death. And sadly, that's what some men think. They tell emselves their already dead, so they never git ta thinkin' they can live again.” - Wilford Straw

“After the rain comes the bloomin.” - Wilford Straw

“The day I was born life gave me a blade and threw me into a war before I ever had a chance to learn how to swing my sword. And so I earned bruises I never should've suffered through, and my back's etched with scars I didn't have the right to earn.” - Liv Creek

“I see pieces of our father lost in his eyes, the lies of our mother dancing on his tongue. He tells me this is how it has to be. This is who he has to be to survive. But survival isn't worth it if it kills who you are.” - Liv Creek

“I'm a scarred warrior wielding a rusted blade against her demons, knowing their deaths come too slow.” - Liv Creek

“I've learned the path to strength is paved in the pain of the weak. Through this path of my own broken bones I stumble, pain hanging like a sword on my lip, heart hardly beating as I choose to survive rather than live. Don't cheer for the warrior as she passes you by, don't thank her for her sins. Mourn for her as you would a grave, weep for her as you would a lost one. Because the warrior is the weak girl who had no choice but to be strong and defy who she was in the face of her pain.” - Liv Creek

“I grew up believin' in all the little things. Like magic, and fairytales, and love that would last. But my Wonderland was stolen from me by a mad man's bullet, and as I look inta the eyes of a man I used ta call brother. Used ta call family. All I see is a tickin' clock, whisperin' that my old heart's runnin' out of time with each strike'a midnight. Boomin' like thunder in my mind.” - Buster Beckem

“Ya know, I've found that I find no comfort in the idea'a the future. The past's warm and welcome, wrapped in the blankets'a my love and the red lipstick'a my lover smeared on my paint stained cheek. But the future stands cold, flecks'a snow promisin' I won't make it out the other side a man that's me. And as I leave this Wonderland'a my memories behind, I know I leave with a heavy and burdened heart.” - Buster Beckem

“This old heart'a mine used to bare it's wings with pride, soarin' over the clouds and touchin' the sun with the tips of it's fingers. But it fell like an angel, graspin' at everythin' that made it feel loved as it faded away inta the future's distant twilight.” - Buster Beckem

“I've been countin' days ever since my love was lost on me. I've been savin' every smile in parts'a myself I hide. But I can't measure the loss in me. I can't begin ta describe this bruise on my tongue where her love used ta reside. I close my eyes and I can still see her sippin' from a chipped coffee mug, hair frizzy and orange, hands stained in blue and pink paint. I always told 'er she was a masterpiece, even if she weren't perfect. Even if she made mistakes. And now, as I lie down in an empty bed, I begin ta wish it was her arms around me rather than these tear stained cheeks. I begin ta wish it was her hand on my shoulder rather than a crow perched like loss on my jacket. And I begin ta wish, as I curl this finger around a trigger, that it was her fingers curled inta mine." - Buster Beckem

“I'm the color that stains your lips as you take your own off mine. I'm the color of your heart as she dances her clawed fingers against your scarred skin. And I'm the color that trails your body as she stains you with her venom love. But I'm the color of your rage, too. The color that bleeds from between your knuckles as you grip the broken pieces of your love. The color that stains your tongue as she bites down on your lip. How beautiful, how deadly, how strange, that I can be anything you want to be, and everything you never knew you needed. While also being the very thing that rips your heart from your chest, my hands thick with the color of love, and anger and pure blood that tastes innocent on the siren's lip.” - Kaia Harzelburg

“Don't you know monsters look like people? Don't you know sinners look like saints and taste like beauty on a heathen's bleeding tongue? I was always a serpent, fingers trailing against the holy as I mark them with my lust filled brand. It's foolish, to fall in love with the serpent, but I've pressed my lips against the skin of Eve and the forbidden fruit tastes of me as she bites down on the feeble flesh of sin. Of forbidden desire. Of deadly lust.” - Kaia Harzelburg

“They say we're all sinners, damned before we were ever born, but I don't think of it that way. Sin is earned, just as sainthood is fought for. Just as good is taught, just as evil is learned.” - Bobby Sticcs

“On the edge'a death I met a boy with misery and shadows in 'is eyes, carved inta like he was just another sheep fed ta the wolves. Never did I see war break a man so young, never before 'ad I seen a man bite down on bullets and call em his fangs. But in the eyes'a that boy, it wasn't war I saw. But hell, flickerin' in the eyes of a mad man.” - Bobby Sticcs

“Some men march off ta war for honor, others find the monster inside as the bullets begin ta fly. But in some way, we're all ghosts and monsters'a the trenches, as if those dirt dug battlefields were our Eden, our rifles our flaming blades. The pools'a red in the rain our forbidden fruit. And I 'spose that made they who sent us off ta die our serpents, lies and forbidden truths flickerin' from behind their damn teeth.” - Bobby Sticcs

“We can't live behind the lines'a our enemies, expectin' them ta care when we throw our lives on the wire thin line.” - Bobbi Crazendale

“Family don't end with blood, it starts with love.” - Bobbi Crazendale

“I've got an old heart that hums and whirs ta life upon the tappin'a Vernon's fingers 'gainst my cheeks. He's my gentle lullaby, and every time he presses his lips 'gainst mine, my heart bursts with colors I'd hardly 'ave recognized if it weren't for this love we share. We love each other in colors that didn't exist, but whirred ta life as our hearts collided.” - Bobbi Crazendale

“I've been on a long, treacherous road, throwin' my fists at da 'eart'a darkness, wonderin' why it looked like me own.” - Billy Jenkins

“In da past I see eyes I used ta love, caught in da rift between gunpowdah and survival, drownin' undah da tide'a sin and love. Swept away by the hungry, starvin' need ta stay alive. I can still remembah runnin' undah da willow wif' her, swearin' I'd love 'er for da rest'a me days. But where 'er 'eart used ta reside in moine, now sits a hungry bullet, carved with a name I recognize and used ta press against me lips. But this bullet feels cold between me teeth.” - Billy Jenkins

“I'll face me future wif' a baseball bat and a grin built off all da things it took ta survive. And as me sister tells me I'm 'er hero, I know dat even if me bones are etched wif' love lost ta the edge of a bullet and da loss'a me heroes, I can do me best ta do good by her.” - Billy Jenkins

“Da broken man wif love all around 'im is blind to da beauty before 'im." - Billy Jenkins

“There's not much man can control, all but the words that tumble like devilry from his tongue.” - Beutler De Niro

“I'm a business man, and everywhere I go I see business in black hearts and lies that shake the soul.” - Beutler De Niro

“Many have described me as a monster, but I'm human, and that's what makes me so dreadfully horrific to all who witness my blood stained revelry.” - Beutler De Niro

“Do you know what lies do to man? They sit, like a guillotine's shadow over the good man's neck, slowly wilting away their sense of self like a rose decaying to black. And eventually, through the lies of cruelty, the good man dies, and from his corpse, the husk of a wolf begins to rise.” - Beutler De Niro

“Any man will pull the trigger if told it's for his own good. Anyone will sin under the light of anonymity. We're monsters beating in black hearts, convincing ourselves that in our deadly sin, that we're human. But we never were. We never will be. We haven't been human ever since Cane rose a stone against Abel, ever since Eve took a bite from the dead man's fruit.” - Beutler De Niro

“Don't mistake my kindness for the truth, my friend.” - Beutler De Niro

“I've seen misery in the form'a rusted hatchets and dusty black coats bitin' at the wind, but I ain't gonna let this murder'a crows be the damn death'a me.” - Dolly Rainbolt

“I'm a spurred boot outlaw, kickin' her way ta freedom as the bastard sons'a darkness open fire at the girl they just can't catch.” - Dolly Rainbolt

“Some folks think power's found in the edge of a revolver with a hammer pulled back. But ya could never fire power from a dead man's gun. Power always came in the form'a good people helpin' other good folks make it ta sunrise. Power's found in the good hearted, in the justice bound, in the heroes and do gooders'a this world.” - Dolly Rainbolt

“I refuse ta stand by as bad men get their kicks at the edge of a hatchet's malice.” - Dolly Rainbolt

“The sunrise waits for all who sit in the dark, and the stars shine for all those who are lost. No matter where you go, light always shimmers, preparin' to let ya back inta her gentle embrace once more. Don't dare lose yerself ta the delusion that redemption don't come for those who've hurt." - Dolly Rainbolt

“I've been a dead man walkin' ever since I first dug a grave, and under that shallow dirt, two men lie. Ol' Thomas Quisly and Margrave Ed'Collinmellow. And together, they rot, like shadows under the light's festerin' grave.” - Margrave Ed’Collinmellow

“Welcome ta the wastelands, where the weak become blood on the strong's teeth, and the strong stand above like a shadow'a survival and misery.” - Margrave Ed’Collinmellow

“Good luck tryin' ta kill this vessel'a rotted flesh and hollow heart. My humanity was ripped into by stained, yellow teeth. It pulled away at the flesh. At the mercy. At the goodness in me. Until nuthin' but a festerin' heart'a sins sat where Margrave Ed'Collinmellow used ta be. Shadow, and cruelty bit inta my heart and tasted the redness in me, stainin' their teeth with innocence and purity. Until all that ran through my veins was dark.” - Margrave Ed’Collinmellow

“The world's gone quiet these days, all but the moans'a hunger that come from the wax white graves'a man. And here I stand, just like the biters and creepers that shamble and bite.” - Margrave Ed’Collinmellow

“Ever since my mother was taken from me for the things she did to survive, I've been left out alone like a criminal amongst the dead and weary. I've spent my whole life fighting a war, just trying to survive. Just trying to get back to my mother. But fate tore us apart before it brought us together, and all I can do is clutch these memories and whisper, "I wish you were here." - Hazel Winchester

“On the dark and grimed streets I met insanity, reflected in yellow teeth and cold blue eyes. They called themselves the unforgivables, and as my death flashed in the silver of their knives, I knew why they could never be forgiven. They made a warrior out of me, but I won't thank them for these wolves' claws.” - Hazel Wincester

“I wish my mother was here to tell me how to survive. To wrap me up in her tattooed arms and tell me everything's going to be okay. But she's a broken piece in my memory, always bleeding me. Always reminding me that she's not here.” - Hazel Winchester

“Always reminding me that she's not here. I speak in the tongue of violence. My words have become steel clashing on steel. My song has become blood on innocent hands. And this language I speak has become teeth gnashing and biting at the good in me until all that remains is the survival, in me.” - Hazel Winchester

“I'm a lion lookin' ta the grey and empty sky, wonderin' why the only color I see is red.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“Dare not walk inta the shadow of the circus, where bad things are done in the dark and plastic teeth rip inta the hearts'a the frail and weary.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“Wherever I go, there's a siren callin' me name in strobe lights'a red and blue, tellin' me I'll be the last one standin' in a murder full'a crows. But here I sit, as the one beast I can't tame, my heart nocturnal, my ribs broken by the beast that rattles in my damn chest.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“Look deep inta the eyes'a those who preform and you'll begin ta find it's pain that drips from their tears. Our laughs are made'a glass and we're just the beasts taught how ta dance. There lies no beauty in this paradise, for Eden's been consumed by a serpent's maw, and the angel who swore ta protect lies silent in the belly'a the snake.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“Long ago I asked life what I'd become, and as I stared at a pool'a my own blood, all I could see was a red lion reflected in me pale and hungry eyes.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“Life is lived at it's best when it's simple. When it's beautiful in it's odd and whimsical mundane fantasies.” - Beckett Cruvell

“My thoughts and who I am just don't align, cause as things begin to change, my regret stays stagnant. And it claws at me, ripping through my throat as it says, "I wish you the best with me by your side." - Bartholomew Stiller

“I've spent my whole life wanting to bring justice to the cruel, to bring peace to the good. But as red and blue sirens blare in my head, coloring the smoke and fog the color of justice and division, I begin to realize I'm just a gunshot echoing between my own dead eyes.” - Bartholomew Stiller

“Who am I past this anger? Past these sins? Past the gunshot fired off in rage and bitter consequence?” - Bartholomew Stiller

“Some secrets are better left undug, but there I stood, shovel in hand, unaware it was a grave I dug for myself. And as I fell, clutching at roots and dirt, I came to realize looking for secrets in the dark is like playing Russian Roulette with a fully loaded chamber. And damn, man. I just pull that trigger.” - Bartholomew Stiller

“What a wonderful world it is, ink, rippling like blood in the water, stars blinking out as humanity whither and dies like a daffodil God forgot.” - Azralos Crossvine

“Do you wish to kill me? Good luck. Killing a man with such power is no easy task. For his words live on in the empty hearts of the men and women who stood so gleefully under his boot's shadow. My words live on like a growing weed in the garden of Eden, choking the life from the roses and leaving a bush of thorns behind. It's not so hard, killing a man with simple phrases such as, "You are saved," And, "In the eyes of God, you are forgiven." - Azralos Crossvine

“I've watched men put a gun against their temple and pull the trigger for the grace of God. I've watched people leap from cliffsides to appease the clouds and stars. I've got blood on my hands, and they are drenched in the kind of words that kill.” - Azralos Crossvine

“I was just a young and dumb shot in the dark, hurtling toward a target he didn't know shared his damn name.” - Avian Browdy

“I stare heavy into the empty eyes of fate, and with a broken claw, he carves bits and pieces of me away from myself, until I can hardly call myself human with these puzzle piece scars etched into my damn skin.” - Avian Browdy

“You know, an old friend once told me monsters look just like us. They share our eyes and pretend to be human, but when they smile, and the sun glints pale on their fangs, you best know to run head over heels to escape a fate of claws and reddened maw.” - Avian Browdy

“Peace don't live in the man mercy forgot but hate remembered.” - Avian Browdy

“Shadows exist as extant forms of us, and as regret claws at my throat, I know it left it's scarf behind in my life, only to come back for it years later and fashion it into a noose around my fucking throat." - Avian Browdy

“People break you down and cast their stones against you, just to say, "That's life, better get used to it before it kills you." But cruelty was never life, just death coming for the hurting souls early.” - Gabianna Santinos

“The cruel and hateful look for justification for what they've done, condemning they who they've hurt just to feel as if they're righteous in their cruelty, in their hate. But there was never any justification in hate, just the way our emotions bleed onto others. Like a red rain coming from the dark clouds of our misery.” - Gabianna Santinos

“You can't spend your life wasting away into emotions better left spoken. You've got to let the truth speak for you when your words can't.” - Gabianna Santinos

“Mistakes are what we learn from, they build who we are, but they also leave scars. Truthfully, I'm haunted by the things I've done and the people I've hurt. They sit in my mind like ghosts who just don't wanna leave me be, reminding me that worst parts of me are the ones running the show.” - Sam Wormwood

“She saw past the worst parts of me, and told me that she was here for all of me, not just shards and pieces of me. But these days, it feels as if I'm a wayward archer with an arrow that never flew. My arrows sit in my heart, like holes of loyalty and intention. I'm always bleeding. Because I've got blood on my hands and memories I wish I could forget.” - Sam Wormwood

“As I looked into the eyes of someone I called brother, and saw nothing but cruelty in his eyes, I realized who we're around influences who we are. And I'd become cruel in the search for brotherhood. But as he swung his fist, and I laid him in the dirt, it still felt as if karma would come for me with eyes I recognized.” - Sam Wormwood

“I have to wonder if that's an angel or regret lying on my shoulder.” - Sam Wormwood

“I was just a rough and bruised country girl lookin' for a fight 'til I met her. And all of a sudden, as she pressed her lips 'gainst mine and told me I was loved, it felt as if my bruises and scars were healin', fadin' away like stars as the sun gently wraps it's arms 'round the pale orange sky.” - Morice Bronzinheit

“We're all burdened souls, buildin' up our strength ta lift the weight'a the world. But we never realize that we don't oughta do it alone. Ya see, we git this idea that our burdens are ours ta carry, and ta have another help us lift that weight would be selfish. But those who love ya are always willin' ta stand by your side and relieve ya of the burdens that leave ya crippled, gaspin' for air in an empty heart.” - Morice Bronzinheit

“I'll never come ta understand why folk choose ta succumb ta rage and cruelty, but he who pulls the trigger ta end a life's no soldier. Just a killer dressed in noble intentions.” - Morice Bronzinheit

“Home ain't some place you can go. It's found in the eyes'a love, in the hearts'a family. It ain't where you're born, it's where you felt like you could truly live." - Morice Bronzinheit

“It seems his flickering smile follows me wherever I go, and when I look into my eyes, it's his I see.” - Pamvera Wendellburn

“Every now and then, my sorrow comes for me. There is no end, nor a beginning, just circles and circles of sorrow as I dance my way around the edge of misery.” - Pamvera Wendellburn

“I sit like a softly spoken sorrow at the bottom of my ribcage, weeds and black rot growing out from my promises, out from my lies, until I can hardly call myself a garden with all this decay in me.” - Pamvera Wendellburn

“Being who I am's such a lonely, quiet thing. It feels as if I'm cursed to this circle of sorrow and remembrance. And whiskey was always easier to swallow then the idea that I'd never return to myself. Easier to swallow then the tears, the grief, the anger.” - Pamvera Wendellburn

“All my life, I've been a bruised knuckled, broken glass kind of woman, anger running like blood through her veins, fist always curled back, jaw always clenched. Because life was a fight and I'd spent my days losing.” - Avarell Boneson

“I'm an angry serenade, followed by the slight echoes of peace. But as my daughter wraps a blanket around my scarred shoulders, and tells me I'm her hero, it feels as if I've always had a place in this world. And it's to protect that girl, full of spunk and curiosity for a world that don't leave girls like her be.” - Avarell Boneson

“I've always been a fighter, but what becomes of the warrior when she's no more battles left to fight? When she's no more reasons to throw her fists?” - Avarell Boneson

“I've lived my life in a violent blackout, and I've hardly been who I am. But as I hum my daughter another lullaby, and my sister tells me I'm her hero, it feels as if I'm falling together into a person that's me. I've been cold steel and wildfire smoke for too long. I just want to be the peaceful melody that lulls my anger to sleep. But my rage sits in my curled up fist, and as I clench my jaw and prepare for another battle, I know life's not through with this wounded warrior yet. So I put rage into the chamber of my revolver and let it fly." - Avarell Boneson

“You know, my brother used to tell me that he's met death a thousand times, and as the world began to fall, I began to wonder if it was all the ghosts he'd met, falling like angels from the wounded and burning sky.” - Ash Plucker

“I used to fight who I am, my knuckles bloodied from wars I never should've fought. Because hiding from yourself is such a strange, accepted kind of misery. But as I cut my hair and traded my dresses for a leather jacket and old, torn jeans, I felt like I was slowly beginning to become me. I'd always known I wasn't a girl, but I'd never wanted to be a man either. So I'll just exist, I'll be me, and that's all I ever really needed to be, huh?” - Ash Plucker

“Cruelty never had a place in this world. It echoes on the tips of bad men's tongues, justifying it's existence by claiming it's name is survival. But if you cast it's shawl aside, you'll soon realize blood for blood was always just cruelty in disguise.” - Ash Plucker

“I've spent my whole life trying to avoid this person I am, tripping over identities that weren't me, covering my face with paint to kill the scars that whisper the story of how the joyful girl died. I've got a heart made of cracked and fragile glass, and whenever someone dares whisper who I am, it crumbles into my stomach and I bleed on these pieces of my heart.” - Amorith Vesbly

“I've never known peace, all but when Heather touches a rough hand against my cheek and tells me I'm hers'. She loves me as I am, and just as the sun loves the moon, she's here for me in all my phases, loving whichever emotion chooses to rear it's head and bare it's teeth. If it weren't for her, I'd be long gone, drifting away into the empty just to avoid this person I am. But she makes this heart of mine a bit less lonely of a place to hide.” - Amorith Vesbly

“I wish I was a war cry, but I'm just a fragile whisper, and the only ones that can hear me are the ones that care enough to listen. To everyone else, I'm just a ghost sitting on the edge of her identity, as if she wanted to leap, but didn't have the courage to fall.” - Amorith Vesbly

“I swear, those I loved follow me like ghosts in the smoke, and just as I close my eyes and think I'm okay, I find myself fading away into memories too close to forget, but too far away to crawl back to.” - Amalda Greene

“I'm haunted by the heat on my skin, by the smoke and cinders in my lungs. My mind's becoming a grave, haunted by my memories ever drifting, and no matter where I go, I can't escape this ghost of who I've become. My mom would tell me to put it all behind me, put on a brave face and think of better days. But honestly? I don't think better days are coming.” - Amalda Greene

“Life ain't just some sorrow bloody repeated, it's every mistake ya made on the way ta success.” - Vinceta Dallifritz

“We're all questions ta ourselves until we earn da courage ta find da bloody answer.” - Vinceta Dallifritz

“Power, I've learned, makes inhuman monstahs outta 'umanity, moldin' the good like clay, wettin' it's hands in the blood'a da merciful until da peace is no more.” - Vinceta Dallifritz

“I once looked to da skies and asked for somebody ta shatter me so I could become somebody new. And out of these broken pieces, I built somebody worth bloody bein'.” - Vinceta Dallifritz

“Some people want to stick to lies, just as lies have stuck to them, but we can't really find peace if we're at constant war with the truth.” - Rust Ashena

“In truth, I'm not made of stone. My bones are fragile and easy to break, my emotions whir like glass in my head, and my hands are scarred with blood and broken nails. But I'm a soldier.” - Rust Ashena

“In all this war, in all this pain, I must at least remember, I've got people who fight for me. In my garden of black petaled roses and problems, a single rose stands, like a bloom of red I'll never come to understand. When Camallo pulls me into his embrace and tells me he'll never let go, I know that at least in his love, I'm safe. He holds me while I fall apart, threading my stitches back together as I begin to unravel. Often, I feel six foot under all this doubt, all this pain, all these scars, but Camallo's always there, shovel in hand, ready to dig away at the mourning man's grave.” - Rust Ashena

“On the edge of the horizon, I see a silver lining, and I start to believe it looks like his smile, like the way his fingers curl into mine, like the way he looks at my scars as if they were a beautiful tattoo telling the story of the way I died and was born again.” - Rust Ashena

“I was just an x value I couldn't understand, trying to catch my answers in the wind as lies drifted on by. But it feels like, when Melania took my hand in hers' and told me she loved me for the very first time, I'd finally found the answer to who I wanted to be. When she pressed her lips against mine, everything began to fall into place, every question became an answer, all the unknown became known, as if my heart had always known what it needed.” - Glorice Shaywalker

“It's not the bruises that matter, or the scars, but how we let them heal.” - Glorice Shaywalker

“I'll always remember the way the gunfire echoes and ripples, as if it was a stone skipping across a lake of all the lives it would touch.” - Nyla Riverbrook

“I heard once, that she who fights for the world is very rarely fought for, and as I struggle to get to my feet, I've come to learn no one's fighting for me, and it's my own feeble fists I must raise.” - Nyla Riverbrook

“My ribs are etched with what it took to survive, my tongue wet with the blood that fills my mouth when I bite down on my tongue to keep these emotions in my skull.” - Nyla Riverbrook

“My body's a battlefield, and my heart beat sounds like a bullet casing hitting against the crimson river.” - Nyla Riverbrook

“A man I look up to once told me that we're not strong, just broken, trying to carry the weight of the world with two human hands. And as my sister looks at me, swearing up and down I'm her hero, I begin to realize heroes exist only in the eyes of those who haven't tasted war on the edge of their tongue.” - Nyla Riverbrook

“I used to be a question to the world, lost in doubt and visions of who I could be. But as I embraced myself, and found my answer hidden deep in my little beating heart, I knew this is who I was meant to be. People ask us to change while they stay the same, lost in ignorance and hate until it becomes the air in their lungs and the tears in their eyes.” - Amanda Blaze

“I was lost, stumbling in the dark, until the light of my identity flashed like a torch in the horizon. It was only for a moment, like a whisper, but it was enough for me to follow the memory of the warmth and light I felt when I was accepted as I am.” - Amanda Blaze

“Love lives in all of us like a seed, and we're just waiting for someone to come along, not afraid to get their hands dirty as they dig through our identity and scars with loving, gentle human fingers.” - Amanda Blaze

"I watched all my friends become strangers, and I'm just sitting here in their shadow wondering why I couldn't save them from the darker side of life. But I guess monsters always look at us with eyes we sadly recognize." - Jess Mercikal

“We're all looking for someone who makes us feel safe and comfortable in who we are, and when I look into my daughter's eyes, and I feel my wife's hands on my cheeks, I know I've found my safety. And I'll never find myself falling without knowing I'll survive the landing.” - Alicia Winnefred

“Life can seem so complicated, but all it takes to live is a few simple things that make you, you.” - Alicia Winnefred

“Some people say we die much before we ever live, but if you've done it right, than as you lay down for your final rest, you'll have lived, and lived, and lived, and in some odd, beautiful little essence, you'll never die. Because flowers will bloom on your grave, and that's where you'll sit, like a smile that never forgot the sorrow that made it shine so bright." - Alicia Winnefred

“I am a lie so often told, and in the pen of sheep I sit, draped in white wool with dapples of red, waiting for the opportunity to rip my teeth through the feeble skin of truth.” - Akolzo Cometsphire

“My heart never beat, my mind never felt. The rare times I did, feel, was in the emotion that rippled in a dying man's eyes.” - Akolzo Cometsphire

“The sheep is easily fooled into thinking he's safe, because so often wolves wear wool on their backs and kindness in their smiles, hiding the blood behind their fangs and murder behind a handshake.” - Akolzo Cometsphire

“I'm just a little spider, spinning his web and watching in glee as the fly finds himself caught, struggling and festering like murder flashed on the newspaper headline's. With hungry fangs and blood filled eyes, I descend on the weary fools caught in my web of lies, sinking my teeth into their skin and ripping scars into their minds as I taste them, like a tragedy on my lips.” - Akolzo Cometsphire

“My friend, gaze to the midnight sky and tell me what you see. Stars, twinkling with wishes, or specters of something that was once beautiful, shining in the dark like a grave marked with a corpse instead of stone? And then, I want you to look into my eyes, and tell me what the night sky means to a man who spills blood as if it were ink on a page, spilling into poetry and prose. I'm a vessel through which murder and lies see. Nothing more." - Akolzo Cometsphire

"Mercy is a fool's game for a cruel man." - Bovine Thukkit

"The most fearful foe of all is the one that haunts you with a long dead friend's smile." - Maxmillius Sharonbew

"Boy, you think that was death? You ain't met death 'til ya've felt her fragile, cold fingers on the edges'a your back and spine. You ain't met death until she stares back atcha with cracked glass eyes as ya look inta the old mirra. Death, Martin fucking Hatcherfly, tasted like barbed wire, bitin' down on a thirsty tongue." - Apollo Dreadful

"My anger claws at me feral, like a woman raised by wolves. Biting, clawing, scratching at the corners of my heart and skull, as if her teeth were made to kill and her claws were made of steel. And there's somethin' so temptin' about the beauty of the anger that lost it's peace in the gentle maw of wolves." - Kurizo Chandlewick

"The dark came in quiet whispers and deadly screams, as if the sky had ripped into itself, thrashin' and howlin' with the light of a thousand dyin' dreams. And that's what his shadow looks like. Them wolves are lightnin' strikes in our sky, and he's just the heavy clouds full with rain and thunder." - Miallo Strawburry

#writing #characters #author #dialouge

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