#she was there when utopia created and fell she deserves it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

finalfantasyandnerdiness · 3 years

Text

Want

Prompt from the discord server by @imlilyyfromff13: “I want to kiss you.”

Fandom: FFXIII (post!LR) Pairing: Hope/Light

A short one-shot about Lightning confronting Hope about becoming a self-destructive workaholic again.

For the eighth time in about the same number of minutes, Hope’s phone buzzed. He picked it up from the kitchen table, glanced at it, frowned, and then put it down again. Lightning sighed. Serah pursed her lips in annoyance. Sazh muttered something about kids and their addiction to anything with a touch screen. Fang and Vanille exchanged a look that probably carried a full conversation only they could understand. Snow kept shoveling pie into his mouth as if he hadn’t even noticed.

Months ago, right after they’d all arrived in the new world, Serah had declared that Sunday nights were family dinner nights. She’d decided that once a week, they would all gather at her and Snow’s house—and somehow, she’d managed to make it a mandatory thing. Some excuses were acceptable, like Noel and Yeul being abroad, but that was about as far as Serah’s leniency went. Sunday nights were family dinner nights. Period.

Lightning had always been a loner at heart, but even she found joy in these little gatherings. Everyone was so busy living their own lives nowadays that if they hadn’t all feared being hunted down by a passive-aggressive Serah, they probably wouldn’t have been able stay in touch like this—a thought of that scared Lightning more than she would ever admit. She finally had a family again, and she wanted to keep it. Even if it meant having weekly dinners in a kitchen that definitely wasn’t big enough for the entire gang.

The room wasn’t quite as crowded now as when Noel and Yeul was in town, but the seating arrangement was still far from comfortable. Lightning had to dodge Snow’s elbow every time the big buffoon reached for something, and her thigh was pressed flush against Hope.

It was fascinating, really, how the warmth of Hope’s leg could somehow be more distracting than the risk of getting elbowed in the face.

Hope’s phone buzzed.

“Could you please turn that off?” Serah asked. “The world won’t end just because you’re unavailable for an hour.”

“You’re giving the world way too much credit,” Hope muttered. He ran his fingers through his silver hair, a deep wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. The ever-growing concern in Lightning’s chest nagged at her. Hope’s eyes were surrounded by dark circles, and every time she saw him he seemed to have lost another pound or two.

When Hope had said that he wanted to work as a researcher again, she’d been happy for him. Of course he’d want to figure out how the science of the new world worked, and of course he’d want to help people find ways to make their new lives work in this unfamiliar environment. What she hadn’t realized was just how much everyone would come to rely on him. Everyone seemed to want a piece of his intellect and his lifetimes of experience. He was being torn apart right before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do about it. Every time she brought it up, he just brushed it off. They’d been partners once, but now, he wouldn’t let her in. He’d shut her out.

“Hope…” She glanced up at him. “The world isn’t your responsibility anymore, you know? Just because everyone wants your help doesn’t mean you have to be there for them constantly. You have to think about what you want, too.”

“I can’t have what I want.” There was a strange combination of heat and sorrow in his eyes when he met her gaze. “I don’t deserve it.”

Lightning fell silent as she tried to get her emotions under control. She sometimes wondered if Hope had any idea how frustratingly attractive he was, with his chiseled jawline, full lips, and ocean-green eyes that still gleamed with an understanding of the universe that no other human on the planet possessed.

She also sometimes wondered if he knew how he made her brain malfunction by simply looking at her.

It wasn’t his appearance that made her feel the way she did. Seeing him as an adult had only made the final puzzle piece of her conflicting emotions fall into place. And now, when she’d finally realized what their bond truly meant to her, he was shutting her out.

Hope’s phone buzzed.

Serah gave him a glare that could have slayed a behemoth. “That’s it, Hope, you’re turning—”

“It’s okay.” Hope gave the screen a final glance before standing up. “I’ve got to go. Thanks for the dinner, Serah. It was perfect, as always.”

“Hope…” Serah paused. After countless dinners ending the exact same way, they all knew that there was nothing they could do to make him stay.

Lightning watched him leave the kitchen, his narrow frame slimmer than ever, and just… reacted. This time it was her elbow that nearly connected with Snow’s face when she rushed after Hope. She caught up with him in the hallway as he was putting on his coat.

“Enough.” She placed herself between him and the door.

“What?”

“I said enough.”

They stared at each other. Hope’s face went from confusion to annoyance to melancholy in a matter of seconds.

“I really have to go, Light,” he said, giving her a humorless smile. “We can talk later.”

“There will never be a ‘later’, and you know it.” Lightning leaned back against the door, effectively blocking his only escape route. “We’re still partners, right? Or did that change when we arrived here?”

Hope blinked. “Of course we are. Nothing will ever change that.”

“Then, as your partner, I’m putting my foot down.” Lightning raised her chin and crossed her arms. “I’m not going to stand by and watch you tear yourself apart to keep the world afloat. Not again.” She swallowed hard. “Never again.”

“Light…” Hope slowly approached her until their bodies were only inches apart. Lightning’s heart began to race. She refused to look away, though. She was taking a stand, and she was not going to let her emotions get in the way of that.

“If you’re going to say you’re fine, then save it. I know you’re not. Have you looked at yourself lately? Can’t you see what this is doing to you?” A hint of desperation somehow found its way into her voice. “You’re putting the needs of others over your own, and I… I feel like I’m losing you again.”

“I’m sorry, Light. I never meant to… I’m sorry.” Hope looked down. “It’s just that everything’s a mess, and considering the part I played in all of this, I feel like it’s my responsibility to fix it.”

“It’s not. That responsibility lies on humanity as a whole now. You and I… We may have contributed to the destruction of the old world, but we also helped creating this.” Lightning nodded toward the kitchen, where their little mess of a family chatted and laughed together. “A new world. A blank page. We create our own fates now. I know it’s hard—trust me, I know it is—but we deserve a new start too. It’s time for all of us to start living the lives we want to live, and that includes you.” She gently stroked a wayward strand of hair from his forehead. “What do you want, Hope?”

“What I want?” He looked up at her, letting out a bitter sound that wasn’t quite a snort but not quite a laugh either. A shiver ran down her spine. He had that look in his eyes again, hot and sad and hungry. “I don’t think you want to know.”

“Try me.”

He hesitated. “There is one thing I want. More than anything.” He cupped her cheek in his hand, his gaze lowering until it landed on her lips. Another moment of hesitation passed.

“I want to kiss you.”

Lightning’s eyes widened. Her cheeks burned. Her heart pounded hard enough to drown out her thoughts—which thankfully wasn’t that much of a problem. In this situation, she didn’t need to think.

“Then kiss me.”

Hope’s lips crashed into hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his as her back slammed into the door. Her head spun, and all her repressed emotions sprung into life. This was what she’d been craving ever since she first saw him in the new world. This was how things were supposed to be. This was right.

Their kiss deepened. The rest of the world seemed to disappear. All she could focus on was him—his smell, his warmth, his hands in her hair, and his impossibly soft lips.

When he finally pulled back, an astonished smile played on his lips. Soon, he would most likely rush out the door as usual to once again fix whatever it was that someone had screwed up, but this time he’d at least gotten something he wanted for himself—something she’d been more than happy to give it to him. She wasn’t delusional enough to believe that a kiss would change his self-destructive behavior, but maybe, just maybe, it was a start.

“What about you?” he murmured, slightly out of breath. “What do you want, in this hypothetical utopia of yours?”

She smiled. That was probably the easiest question he could have possibly asked her.

“You.”

#hoperai #hopurai #ffxiii #mywritings #this one got very much out of hand

37 notes · View notes

tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years

Text

heavenly yours (part 2/3) | th x fem!reader

Heavenly Yours – a chaotic series

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | epilogue

Summary: A few years passed since Tom’s exile happened. (Y/N) lost every single sparks of joy and desire to live after assisting to the tragic fall of the on the one she secretly loved. Nevertheless she continues doing as if nothing happened and mostly to stay safe from the Superior Angels. But strangely, deep inside her heart, she could still… feel him… sense him? But why? And how? Until all her questions were answered the day a devilish stranger appeared right in front of her the evening she wanted to disappear forever.

Pairing: Demon!Harrison x Angel!Fem!Reader (enemies to friends relationship)

Warnings: major angst with dark thoughts (depression, mention of suicide), natural nudity (you don’t shower dressed up right?) and a little bit of cocky/dickish Harrison so beware!

Words count: 7643 (jesus)

A/N: first of all, I wanted to wish you guys a late Merry Christmas and a late Happy New Year 2020!! 🎄🎉 I’ve been busy because I’m still in Australia at the moment for vacation but I still manage to find some time to write this part little by little 😅 I hope you will like it as much as I loved writing it, and I’m so glad for all the positive comments I received for the first part… I’m still open to constructive criticism so!! So enjoy this loooooong new part!! 😂💖

masterlist | series masterlist

long italic paragraph is a flashback

A void.

An entire existence thrown into a black hole.

(Y/N) slowly wakes up from another fitful night, her tired eyes getting used to the rays of lights going through her window, her body curled into a ball on her soft but cold silk bed sheets.

Another day...

She finally rises her upper body and sits while letting a sigh out her lips, making the white sheet cascade and fall on her bare thighs. Her wings still shrivel on her back and her eyes, once bright and sparkling, look in front of her into nothing. Deep into emptiness. This emptiness she feels since that night from… a long time ago.

“Today has been… six years, maybe?”

How could she forget the night her lover sacrificed himself because his only wish was to prove and show all Kingdom of Heaven that two angels could love each other? Love. A bannish word up here. Something forbidden because associated with the Underworld of Hell. Hell… The place Tom fell into while protecting her.

That damned night…

After the horrific scene she had to watch against her own will, (Y/N) flies back to her house as fast as she can, hoping to arrive soon. When she lands again on the ground in front of her door, she leans against it because she couldn’t trust her own legs, shaking of fear and distress. Her breathing is louder and her eyes now red because of her constant crying, puffy and still wet with tears.The sobs don’t stop… don’t want to stop. The still vivid image of Tom falling into the open crack beneath him, weak and hurt, keeps playing in (Y/N)’s mind and it only makes her cry even harder. Trying to compose herself the best she could, a sudden thought crosses her mind: the Superior Angels could arrive here at any moment now.

Her entire body spins toward Tom’s house and not even thinking twice, she sprints inside it and closes the door behind her. She has been here a few times already and nothing has changed since the last time. A perfect copy of her own house - and as all the other angels -, with the same fournitures, the same colours and the same… now awful ambiance. Her lips tremble while looking at all this, thinking about all the beautiful memories she shared with Tom; him going to the kitchen to prepare them a meal, him bringing her tea and sitting on the living room couch next to each other, both of them kissing passionately at the front door before leaving, and so much more.

“I love you so much, princess” he would whisper in her ears while nobody was aware of it.

“You are the Sun that gave me life for a second time.”

“I will never leave you, you know that, right love?”

“We will make it work, I promise you angel face.”

All these precious moments they shared and now thinking that he will never be back here, where he used to belong. By her side. (Y/N) hurries and gathers anything she could; decorative pillows, sheets, fluffy covers, tones of his shirts, the usual mug he likes- liked to drink tea in, his cologne and other little objects that reminds her of him. When she is finally ready to leave with her arms full, she stops next to his bed again and sees a flower crown hanging up the bed frame. The one she made and offered him a few weeks ago. The flowers seem fresh as if they were picked today because nothing really aged up in Heaven. Looking at the crown neatly arranged, (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from touching the petals, delicately, and think about Tom having it on his head while smiling at her. Another tear slips away from her eyes as she blinks.

She will never see his angel face ever again.

Putting all the items on his bed, she hesitates a second but still grabs the flower crown to put it on her own head. Her heart skips a beat. She then gathers everything back in her arms and finally leaves the house of her lover for good, and goes straight to her own.

Feeling safe she hopes so, (Y/N) tries to organise what she brought back while memories from each object she touches keeps flowing her gloomy mind. She changed her sheets to replace them with Tom’s one, then puts some pillows on her couch and the other on her bed to create a safe space. She puts the shirts of the male angel in her drawer, next to her own clothes. And finally the flower crown is now placed on her coffee table with a round candlestick in the middle, a scented candle ready to get lighted up. Another sigh leaves her lips, feeling kind of satisfied with what she did and also a little calmed down. But she knows that all this could never bring her lover back. But she couldn’t bare to forget him.

Tugging the curtain to block the view from the street, (Y/N) walks to her bathroom for a well deserved shower. She removes her long dress and sandals on her way there, without a single care, then her lace panties and takes a look at herself in the mirror on top of the porcelain sink. Her face is such a mess, and every single part of it is red; her swollen eyes, her cheeks and her nose, and her lips puffy from her stressful bites. Leaning above the sink both hands grabbing each side of it, she lets her head fall for a moment, her hair hiding her tired face. When she calms herself from what happened tonight, she walks into the shower and lets the warm water loosen up her sore muscles. After some excessive time she steps out of the bathroom, letting the fog escape, and slips on one of Tom’s shirts. (Y/N) touches the some material with the tip of her finger, sensing the soft and fresh cotton covering her skin, like he is right here holding her body against his. She buttons it up and throw herself on her bed and wraps all the new covers and sheets around her.

Silence.

No sound coming out from the street, nor from Tom’s house. A silent cry still makes its way out her lips so she edges closer and closer into the fortress of her bed, surrounded by multiples pillows. Everything smells like him. But everything feels so cold and empty.

But she has to stay strong. For him.

She promised him, and she will make sure to keep her promise and so until the very end.

The day after, she tried to act as nothing was wrong and strangely, but mostly to her biggest astonishment, everything was the same. To everyone. (Y/N) passed the day doing what she had to do and every angel acted like Tom… never existed. They were all smiling to her, talking to her like every day, but never saying his name a single time. Deep inside, her guts were burning with rage? because of this, because everyone loved Tom, everyone trusted him to anything. And now, it was like he was never there, neither that fateful day when her human’s life stopped, standing together in front of the Heaven’s gates and meeting for the first time. Did they really forget, or someone made them forget?... But she kept going, she had to. Or Tom’s sacrifice would be vain. She was literally boiling, and nobody suspected that.

But the thing that bothered her in all that situation was that… she could still “feel” Tom - if that was the right word. Even her couldn’t explain that weird feeling that upset her inside.

* * * *

“Come on, (Y/N).”

Since that night, nothing really changed for (Y/N). Well, she didn’t really have a choice anyway. She takes a big breath in and finally turns all her body to the side of the bed. Bare legs hanging, her toes brushing the marble floor of her too perfect angel’s bedroom. Finally standing up, she stretches out her body parts to finish with her wings, the shirt she wears lifting to let her panties visible in the process. As she takes the pillows spreaded on the floor to arrange them again onto her bed, the young woman proceeds to start her morning routine - which basically consists in taking a shower, brushing and styling her hair, dressing up, having a little breakfast and going out - and without forgetting the most important since then: displaying the most faked smile she could have.

Always the same. Day after day.

What (Y/N) always finds funny in all her “comedy” - like she is used to call it by now - is that no one could see clear into it. Just thinking that their “adorable and perfect Angel (Y/N) is the happiest and caring angel of all Kingdom of Heaven, loyal and gorgeous and that she will always be the same and never change”... even though she assisted to the most traumatizing experience any angel could be aware of which definitely changed the idyllic vision she had of Heaven all along and that, in fact, awakened her from this dull utopia and set free all her past human emotions from a previous life. Yes, that’s pretty much it.

How funny is that.

At least she isn’t drawing any attention which is what matters the most.

* * * *

“Finally the end of the day!” (Y/N) sighs exhausted.

She had quite a busy day indeed. The young woman was assigned to manage the novice’s flying course of the day. Even with already knowing some of the little ones, having in charge a group of about fifteen young angels to teach them how to fly was so much work and a lot of patience.

All alone now, (Y/N) is walking to a secluded part of the Kingdom where nobody goes to when the Sun starts to fall, to then let the Moon be the new star of the Holy Sky. After some minutes, she arrives to that place she casually calls her secret garden. In fact it is in a garden but just a part of it, in a peaceful corner. Further back of the usual animated main place and hidden between sequoias and pine trees, (Y/N)’s secret garden is composed of a beautiful marble fountain aesthetically put surrounded by light stone benches and flowers in different vases. The sound of the running water fills the silence of the upcoming night. This place brings some joy back to the angel’s heart because this is where she likes coming to clear up her mind, and just admire the view. Speaking of which, it is the best place to watch the sunset. At the edge of the garden a blanket of clouds is spread to an infinite horizon, tinting it with a mix of gold, orange and red at this time of the day. Tranquility and quietness. Just what she needs. (Y/N) enters the spot and moves to sit on the bench right in front of this marvelous scenery. Some doves fly through the clouds and spin around to then land near the woman. One lands directly on (Y/N)’s knees and coos at her, making a soft giggle leave her lips. She takes the dove delicately between her hands, pet its immaculate feathers before giving it a peck on top of the head.

“You are such a lucky one, you can fly wherever you want and do whatever you want…”

The dove lets itself being petted by the female angel - not like its really minds - while the Sun keeps disappearing.

“Not like me…” comes out of (Y/N)’s mouth like a whisper.

Her brows bump together in a scowl, biting the inside of her cheek to prevent the tears to start forming. Another sunset. Alone. By herself. Prisoner in an ivory tower full of naivety that she wishes she could escape. But how? Could this be even possible? The young woman stands, keeping the dove safe with her, and starts to walk slowly to the edge of the garden. Here she is on her feet, facing the last rays of sunshine and this unknown world beneath the clouds. A nice breeze brushes her body making her hair and long silk dress dance in rhythm. At this feeling, her wings dare to spread out a little because the wind caressing their insides is so calming.

“Do you know what is under the clouds, little dove? I keep asking myself this since he…” She couldn’t finish her sentence, still looking in front of her.

There were some days she was determined to do anything to keep her mind busy, but other times she couldn’t even find any motivation to wake up. (Y/N) has thought more than once about leaving. Disappearing. Dying. Sometimes her surrounding was too suffocating, her head hurting at any sound, the air hardly making its way in her lungs, her heart being like crushed between her ribs, her stomach clenching even if empty, her legs too weak to keep her up. Everything hurt. It didn’t want to stop. Those days were the worst.

And so the woman keeps wondering each time she comes here what the clouds could possibly hide. Something good? Something bad? Something new? Something dreadful? Could a better world wait for her down there? Could… Tom be down there, waiting for her this all time to tell her that, in the end, everything was fine? And as it says that curiosity almost killed the cat, (Y/N) wanted to jump from the cliff to end this and know the truth. Maybe she will be finally set free and feel no more anger, no more rage, no more sadness and no more loneliness. Her love for Tom is still here, burning in her and engraved in her heart. But this love is lacking of… mutual love. And alas with the every last ounce of strength she has, she resists. Because Tom wouldn’t like letting his sacrifice be pointless. He wanted her to keep living her life and be happy. But how could she possibly be happy without having her lover by her side anymore? In the end (Y/N) doesn’t know what to do. But her whole body keeps hurting. So bad.

After interrupting her sour thoughts, the angel releases the little dove from her grip and lets it fly away. She doesn’t notice the warm tears on her cheeks yet, preferring to ignore them. Then she collapses on her knees as her body has to save the last sparks of energy to go back home later. She feels drained to the cord. Helpless. And still alone.

“Oh Tom… I can’t anymore… This is too much…” Her sobs starts echoing in her head. “This is too hard for me, I can’t… handle it anymore… I need you… So much…”

And her hands raise to hide her pitiful face in tears. Shoulders shaking like a leaf she feels as fragile as a porcelain doll, abandoned and so broken.

Today was definitely a ‘no’ day.

‘ What a poor little thing. ‘

(Y/N) jumps while letting out a squeal. Who could be here at this hour? Her head frantically analyses around her to see who the person observing her is. But nothing. Not a single presence. No one, not even a shadow.

“Who is here?!”

‘ You may not get too agitated, Angel or you will really end up falling from that cliff. ‘

The voice again. But still not the body associated with.

(Y/N) quickly stands up but not without staggering while doing so. She then distances herself from the edge of the cliff, panic still showing on her face and turns to the big trees surrounding the garden. Still nothing. Not knowing if she is in danger, the young woman still decides to open her angel wings wildly, ready to fly away at any moment.

“Show yourself! Now!” screams (Y/N), her voice ringing in the newly night.

‘ Don’t be so aggressive, it doesn’t match with your angelic face. ‘ the unknown voice replies with a snigger, ‘ ...Also I’m already here, angel face. ‘

Feeling a breath next to her ear, (Y/N) flings herself forward, next to the fountain. When she turns again in the direction of the voice, wings still on display, she can finally see who was tricking her this whole time but never did she imagine having a meeting like this. And this totally terrifies her.

A few feet away from her stands a young man. Maybe two heads taller than her. Blond messy hair, a bit brunette actually. Deep blue eyes as clear as the water of Heaven… but enormous black wings on his back slightly hitting the air, almost featherless and mostly skin showing. Dressed all in black, a thin shirt entirely open - and that (Y/N) tries not to look at because… just because you’re not suppose to do that? -, darted pants close to the muscles of his legs and waxed moccasins.

This man is a demon.

Demons. The nastiest, hazardous and menacing creatures that exist in the afterlife. The ones who have sinned while being humans, and that now pay for all of it by getting punished or by leaving another sinful life in the Underworld of Hell… Hell. The worst place that could ever exist. Where the lowest of the lowest are down here for eternity. Where the entire land is on fire, with not fresh but dry and smoky air which literally burns your lungs. Where nature has not its place. Where debauchery is the only way of living.

What in the world…!!

(Y/N)’s body couldn’t move. Scared. Frighten. Petrified. Her face becomes as pale as her wings, out of breath but heart almost bursting through her chest. Her legs don’t dare to move like sticked to the ground. All the hair of her body raises. Everything seems to get so much colder and morbid just by his own presence. Never (Y/N) would have imagined in her angel life being confronted to a real demon, she doesn’t even know this would have been possible!

Anyway, the devil man in front of her stays still and straight while fixing at her. An intense look that may be a mix of malice and vileness. A devious aura. Not a word is said between the two opposite beings. The only sound around may be the breeze that seems way colder that it originally was when the angel arrived here. Her wings start to curl up around her fragile body, even if she keeps trying to show some strength. (Y/N) wishes now she was not alone at this moment because she never heard or read about demons ascending to Heaven for any possible reason, and without being noticed by the Superior Angels. What was he doing here? And why?

‘ Such a pretty face, he definitely was right about it. ‘ said the devil man with a slight smirk showing on his face.

He takes a step to her. And (Y/N) takes a step back straight away.

“Don’t you dare come any closer” she threatens him between her teeth, “and how dare you come in Heaven?!”

‘ Well it’s not like I wanted to fly over here in the first place anyway ‘ the man says like he is pissed off, ‘ Not my kind of place if you know what I mean… ‘

“Then you better leave before you get in big trouble” she mocks him still going backwards.

Unfortunately the young woman couldn’t back up anymore because a tree blocks her way and now with her back pressed against it, she knows things would get harder.

‘ I didn’t know angels could retort with such anger, it clearly doesn’t match your character ‘ the demon adds, approaching (Y/N) bits by bits, ‘ But I guess he was right once again about it...‘

“What in the world are you talking about?! And who is “he”?!”

All this has no sense. And irritation is winning over (Y/N)’s fear.

‘ No need to rush things for now, angel face. ‘

In a snap, the devil man finds his way close to (Y/N) again, his body almost pressed against hers. She lets a short shriek out and tries to distance herself as much as she could, as if she tries to become as thin as a leaf to disappear at this exact moment. Her back pressed even harder on the tree trunk, the female angels tries to avoid his eyes and even to sneak past him. But his morbid black wings are in the way, fully stretched like they would engulf her small body. The angel makes her best to avoid meeting his eyes and avert them by shutting them tightly. Her heart beats even faster now and her hands start being moist, like her forehead. Is this the end?

‘ Hey come on, look at me ‘ says the man without sounding too bossy, ‘ ... Please? ‘

This sounds like a plead. And strangely (Y/N)’s heart tightens at the sound of his voice. Could a demon ever sound this pitiful, even in front of an angel? Not sure of herself - because a demon is and still will be a demon -, she dares to slowly open an eye to look at him and sees he hasn’t moved a single millimetre. Still standing tall, the man that once had cold eyes seems now more… calm and peaceful, almost harmless. With a closer look the intruder has a handsome face, with a sharp jawline and defined nose. His hair is in fact more brunette that it seems from far away, the blond slightly fading at the end of each lock. His blue ocean eyes are sharper they could freeze you on site, but long eyelashes are present to underline them and create a welcoming feeling. As she suspected before his wings are kind of featherless but the dark showing skin doesn’t look that hurt or rough, more like a second skin. And his body looks so firm she can totally could perceive his torso through the thin piece of black fabric that serves him of shirt. (Y/N) blushes at this proximity and looks away.

“What… do you want?” asks (Y/N) again, her voice wicker than before.

‘ I’m not here to hurt you so if you listen to me, I can tell you why I came up here. ‘

Again the soothing voice. This situation could end up in two differents ways: good or bad. No inbetween. (Y/N) learnt from the book she read that demons were never the bearer of good luck and could be the trickiest creature of all time. But her awareness is telling her a complete other story and she couldn’t guess why. She just feels it deep in her guts, as if it was a casual situation.

Finally the young woman dares to look at him in the eyes, again. And at this exact moment she sees his hand extend right to her face so she couldn’t help but flinch, thinking she got too naive by letting her guard down so quickly. But nothing happens. Indeed she feels a warm sensation on her cheek that then moves behind her ear. She gets even more surprised when, after opening her eyes, the demon is only caressing her cheek to replace her lock of hair behind her ear. She didn’t expect that. At all.

‘ I know since that day, everything changed for you so you will understand what I’m about to tell you ‘ begins the young demon, now curling another of her lock around his finger, ‘ So… care to listen? ‘

His hand leaves (Y/N)’s hair to stay along his body. But he proposes his hand to her to take, an invitation to join him. She thinks pretty fast because everything is getting messed up in her head - too many things happenings at the same time -, looking back and forth from his opened hand to his blue eyes. And she knows she has to listen to him. She feels it again.

So after taking a deep breath she carefully puts her hand in his, and the man closes it. Slowly and without breaking their gaze, they walk toward the fountain to sit on the side of it. The demon lets (Y/N)’s hand go and put his on his thighs. (Y/N) brushes her dress and copies the man’s position. A certain tension is obvious and could be cut with a knife. But still, the female angel doesn’t feel that much in danger anymore.

Silence. Just the sound of the water flowing in the fountain behind them, appeasing them. The night is now here, the sky fully dark. Tones of stars appear here and there and the nice breeze comes to cool down (Y/N)’s body. Her wings are not tensed anymore. But she still thinks about what the conversation will lead to.

‘ First of all, I’m Harrison. And I’m sorry for scaring you earlier, my devil side can be really douchey some time ‘ the demon, Harrison, introduces himself while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Nice to meet you, Harrison… I guess?”

Such a casual conversation between complete opposite beings…

“And I-”

‘ (Y/N). You are (Y/N) ‘ cuts off Harrison. ‘ I know who you are already… Because I am here for you. ‘

“W-what do you mean... here for me?”

‘ Do not panic please, I know this sounds weird coming from a demon- ‘

“Oooh it sure is weird” (Y/N) cuts him off in return, letting out a nervous laugh while she fidgets with her fingers. And Harrison actually laughs at that too.

‘ Yeah sorry, this situation is awkward for both of us… But this is also really important. ‘

Harrison has again the same face as his arrival in Heaven. Sharp and serious. (Y/N) gulps silently and strengthens her back, ready to listen to him. After a few seconds, the demon begins to speak again.

‘ I know that you are different from the other angels here. You can feel varied types of emotions and not only happiness anymore. Anger, sadness, rage, sorrow, fear and so much more. ‘

(Y/N)’s heart misses a beat at his word.

‘ And surprise too ‘ slightly laughs Harrison looking at her, in fact, surprised expression.

“H-how do you know that? I mean-”

‘ I also know that you were in love, maybe still in love actually. And since the day you lost your other half, everything changed even more for you, mostly your way of thinking, am I right? ‘

(Y/N) couldn’t believe it. It is like she is an actual open book to him and it’s been like, what, maybe not even fifteen minutes and he knew her deepest secrets. It scares her. And she couldn’t form a simple sentence. So the angel simply nods.

“How in the world do you know… all that?...”

Her throat feels dry.

‘ (Y/N), I know who you lost that night. ‘

“Wait what-”

‘ Tom. The fallen angel. ‘

At the sound of his name she couldn’t prevent the sob that leaves her mouth. And some puzzle pieces start to get assembled.

“I-is Tom i-in H-?!...”

Not waiting for the end of her question, Harrison nods keeping his gaze. She puts her hand on her mouth to contain herself as best as she could, but the feeling is too strong.

Tom. The fallen angel.

(Y/N) now has the confirmation that Tom fell in Hell that damned night. She squeezes her dress in her fist and shuts her eyes. The simple thought of her dear lover being in Hell for so long saddens her the more she thinks about it. What have them done to him down there? Was he alright? Or was he… hurt? Tortured? Or even worse… She doesn’t want to think about it and so she tries to erase this horrific image from her mind.

‘ Tom the fallen angel, your lover, is in fact in the Underworld of Hell. But still alive. ‘

Alive.

Tom is still alive. In Hell, yes, but alive.

(Y/N) couldn’t believe what she heard. A sob finally breaks through the barrier of her hand and that’s when (Y/N) feels the weight of the world leave her shoulders for good. All this time, all these lonely days and nights, dwelling on this fatale night when she lost the most precious person she could have find in afterlife, and constantly blaming herself because she was still here, alive, and not him. But now everything changed and this self torture is over.

Her tears are not tears of sadness anymore, but tears of relief and hope. A smile even finds its place on the angel’s face. A real smile, warm and beautiful, like she used to show before it all declined. A smile that the male demon notices too, it even brings a shy one on his own face. Her once broken heart is now collecting each piece to gather them back together. And the woman understands why she could feel this weird feeling all this time. Because without really knowing it, she knew Tom, her dear Tom, was still alive.

“Oh my God… I-I’m so h-happy…” cries (Y/N), wiping some tears with her arms. “But i-is Tom… a-alright?”

Asking this question almost scares her. She doesn’t know what to expect.

‘ Don’t worry, Tom is totally fine. ‘ begins Harrison to soothe her a little. ‘ Not gonna lie, it was not easy for him when he was thrown to Hell but yeah, he kinda managed. This man’s got a tower of strength. ‘

The devil man prefers to avoid all the details of Tom’s arrival in Hell, to prevent her any more pain. In fact Harrison “met” the fallen angel since the first day and had to assist to each punishments and tortures he had to go through. At the time Harrison was passive and amused by the show because, well he is a demon after all, and these things were totally normal in Hell. But as time passed, Harrison started to admire Tom’s strength as much as physical and mental, not letting himself perish under the steady punches and cuts from the perfidious devils down there.

“Yes, he always was determined in anything he was doing” smiles (Y/N) to herself.

She then turns toward Harrison who is still looking at her.

“Excuse my rudeness, I’m so glad you told me Tom is safe and all but… is this the only reason you flew in Heaven? Just to… tell me this?”

(Y/N) couldn’t stop herself about all this. This looks too good to be true in a way and having a demon telling you all this is surely bizarre.

Harrison laughs, ‘ Don’t worry, angel face, you have all rights to wonder about it. ‘

(Y/N) returns his laugh, giggling. Who could have thought about an angel and a demon casually chatting together?

‘ So yeah my main goal was to find you because I was asked to. By Tom himself. ‘

Her laughs just stop.

“Wait- are you telling me Tom is the one w-who sent you here?!” she nearly screams at the demon, shocked. “How is it even possible?!”

‘ Calm down (Y/N), I’m telling you the truth. Because if I don’t, I will get in biiiiiig trouble with the man himself ‘ jocks Harrison but still with a nervous smile just by the thought of it.

“B-but why only now? W-why after for long?! I was b-by myself all this time, thinking h-he was…!!”

Harrison knew since the beginning that there will be a lot of explanations to give. But it was his mission, and he will make sure to accomplish it.

‘ (Y/N), you know he couldn’t do anything else at the time, am I right? Tom was thrown into the deepest depths of Hell because he sinned - because he loves you - so he couldn’t just fly back here in Heaven like nothing happened. ‘

That is true. And (Y/N) suddenly feels silly about her last comment. She is aware of all this since that night but it is like she wanted to ignore it… for her sake of living alone. Harrison notices her head and shoulders lower.

‘ Hey, no need to feel down. It’s normal to be selfish sometimes… well, in Hell at least… ‘ notes Harrison, trying to cheer her up.

His black wing softly touches her white one as if to tell her everything is alright. (Y/N) doesn’t rejects his touch and looks back at him, waiting for what is coming next.

‘ The reason Tom waited so long before contacting you again is because he had to survive. He went through a lot, trust me I was there watching him but he never gave up. You were his strength. All along. And you still are. He kept repeating he had to endure his sentence for you, to keep you safe and to go back to you. ‘

(Y/N) lets her tears flow again, without making a sound. Her and Tom were trying their best to survive separated from each other, but he definitely has been the one in the worst situation.

‘ And so, days and years passed. But in the end he did it. Tom survived and proved to Hell he was worse it. Such a strong minded guy was just what Hell needed at the time, so they gave him another chance. ‘

“Another chance?” repeats (Y/N) not really understanding what the demon means.

‘ To make it simple, Tom is now a demon. ‘

The rollercoaster of (Y/N)’s emotions goes straight down again at this statement. Tom is now a demon. Her beautiful and handsome angel who sacrificed himself many years ago became a demon as a second chance in his afterlife. This was too much for her. The sadness is clear on her face, furrowing her eyebrows and tensed body again. She then remembers him before he fell down, his wings becoming greyish as the Superior Angels said. And now they must be fully black, like Harrison’s ones. Her angel lover was no more. Her tears don’t stop but emphasized more.

‘ Hey (Y/N), it’s alright, don’t cry anymore ‘ Harrison tries to calm her again.

He dares to sit closer to her, caressing her shoulder to sooth her a bit. Both their wings are now close to the other. A perfect opposition. White and Black. Pure and Dirty. But strangely the mix doesn’t really feel bad at all. And so instinctively (Y/N) snuggles into Harrison’s chest, frightening him at first, to find maybe some comfort. It is such an uncommon situation for Harrison that he doesn’t know how to react. So he simply wraps his arms and wings around her. They stay like this for a few minutes, her sobs resonating in the heavenly night. It is still hard for her to accept the fact that Tom is now a demon, even if still alive.

‘ Calm down, (Y/N)... ‘ whispers Harrison while he wants to pull away delicately. ‘ Let me finish explaining okay? Then if you want to cry again, it’s alright I will endure it a little more ‘ he tries to joke again.

(Y/N) slightly slaps his chest and pulls herself away from him. She has now a light smile on her face, with wet cheeks and puffy eyes again. She wipes her face with the back of her hand and wait for the demon to talk again.

‘ So ‘ Harrison starts again combing his hair back with his finger, ‘ Tom may be a demon now but he actually chose to become one. For his and your sake. ‘

“W-what?! But why-”

Harrison quickly presses his index finger on the angel’s mouth.

‘ Let me continue? ‘

(Y/N) just nods.

‘ So it was Tom’s decision to become a demon. And then he had to learn to be one, which actually was not difficult. ‘

“B-but demons are… d-devious… n-nasty… n-not to blame you or w-what but-” mumbles the young woman kinda scared to offend the demon.

‘ I know (Y/N), but we all are not only as the books of Heaven describe us. We may had sinned as humans but we are not beasts, well not ALL of us actually… ‘

That surprises (Y/N). “You mean-��

‘ Each demon has his own personality like when they were humans. We don’t only live on sex and torture all day long. ‘

(Y/N) tenses. She read a lot of books available in the Heaven’s library and all she read about demons were not… good things, mostly just unholy manners and all. And now the devil man in front of her tells her a completely different story - not like she really minded but still. It even reassures her a little.

‘ And Tom is definitely not a sinful demon. Just so you know he made me changed to be the respectable demon I am now and that is why I vowed to serve him until the end. ‘

“Excuse me what did you just say? You… serve him??”

Harrison takes a deep breath before continuing, ‘ As the time flew by, Tom became stronger and gain respect of all the other demons. He has been proclaimed King of Hell and rules the Underworld since then. ‘

“K-KING OF-?!”

The words suffocate (Y/N), she couldn’t speak anymore. King of Hell. Of all the thing she could have imagined, the angel now doesn’t know what to think about. But if what Harrison told her is true, Tom would be… a good demon? That in fact sounds really weird. Is that even possible? Does this even really exist? But she still trusts Tom, and still loves him. She feels so confused from all the informations, not knowing what to think about first.

‘ And he wants you to join him. Now. That is why I’m here for. ‘

“Me? Going to Hell?! W-wait Harrison, are you joking or what?!” retorts (Y/N) standing up, still facing him. “I just can’t leave Heaven like that and-!”

‘ You are not happy here, (Y/N), and even Tom knows it. ‘ interrupts Harrison staying calm. ‘ When you both discovered your feelings for each other, you both hid all the time. And since he was left for dead, you hid your new trueself to those Superior Angels as Tom wanted you to. You changed, you are not the same anymore, like him. But since, he pulled himself together again and started a new life… in which he wants you in again. ‘

Leaving Heaven would mean being damned herself. And that scares (Y/N). Of course she wants to join Tom and be reunited with him but she doesn’t know if she could handle it. Her breathing accelerates but the air doesn’t fills the lungs fully. Watching her starting to panic, Harrison stands.

‘ (Y/N), listen to me. ‘ He puts his hands on her shoulders to steady her, ‘ Tom knows what he is doing, and that is why he waited for so long. He found every information he needed and now is the right time. Do you trust him, (Y/N)? ‘

“I…”

‘ (Y/N). Do you trust Tom? ‘ pushes Harrison.

“Yes I do.”

‘ Do you still love Tom? ‘

“Of course I do, with all my heart.”

‘ Then come with me and don’t worry, you will be safe. ‘

She looks straight into the demon’s eyes. And she knows he tells the truth.

“But I should bring some belongings before lea-”

‘ You don’t need to bring anything. Tom is waiting for you now and surely she will give you everything you need down there. ‘

“Harrison I-I don’t know if I’m ready or not…”

‘ You are, (Y/N). You have been for a long time. ‘

She gulps, her throat still dry since he arrived. This is it. (Y/N)’s is about to change again for good. She doesn’t feel ready because this is a major change - and a dangerous one - but still, after all this time being by herself, she now understands the hidden feeling she kept buried in her heart. The feeling of Tom still being alive. And him still wanting her by his side. Whenever he was.

While the angel appeases her overflowing emotions, she barely notices the extended hand offered by Harrison. So when she finally sees it, she looks at him with soft eyes, still her mind troubled by all what happened to her since this evening. Harrison invites her to join their hands by nodding at her. And when they finally do, both of them start walking toward the edge of the cliff.

“Harrison… is Hell… scary?”

They stop right at the edges, hands linked and bodies turn into the dark and cloudy horizon.

‘ Hell is not a happy place, (Y/N), but I can guarantee you Tom will protect you and make you feel at home. I’m sure he will. ‘

(Y/N) lets out a sigh. A calmed one. And she squeezes the demon’s hand as if to tell him she is ready. Kind of.

‘ I suggest you to close your eyes. Just in case. Not to… scare you. ‘ offers Harrison.

(Y/N) nods slightly her head and inhaled a big amount of air.

‘ Do you trust me? ‘

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got the choice right?” sarcastically replies (Y/N), with an amused smile painted on her angelic face.

Harrison laughs heartily at this remark showing his perfect white teeth, his canines sharp as a beast’s.

‘ My my, all angels should be like you. Things would be so much funnier! ‘

The young woman laughs in her turn, all the tension leaving her body a little more. When the silence of the night reigns again, the two beings open out their gigantic wings.

‘ Ready? ‘

“Ready.”

* * * *

(Y/N) has just enough time to close her eyes and everything accelerates pretty quickly. She hears and feels “things”. Screams. Hotness. Fire maybe? But then cold. And hot again. Things trying to grab her arms or legs, but never making it. Her wings continue to beat the air to fly toward the unknown. A total unknown world that she heard about but without fully knowing what happens in it. A world that her lover now rules on. Her fallen lover that waits for her. And she just couldn’t wait any longer.

‘ (Y/N), we arrived ‘ Harrison tells her.

Like she has been asleep for decades, (Y/N) slowly opens her eyes. And what is in front of her astonishes her that much she nearly falls backward. Harrison pulls her back toward, still hand in hand.

‘ Welcome to the Underworld of Hell, (Y/N). ‘

In front of the angel lays an arid landscape. The ground looks covered by dust, a bit red and black, likesand. A desert. But not lava or a single flame. The sky has nothing to do with the purity of the Heaven one, but still not scary or as described in the books. Displaying a gradation of slight red and dark blue, maybe black actually, that weirdly match together. No sun or moon or star. A clear devil sky. (Y/N) can also notice some the people walking around. Demons walking around, or flying eventually. All dressed up in black just like Harrison. A typical scenery similar to Heaven but with very different people. Without debauchery. And when (Y/N) decides to turn around, she falls face to face with a gigantic castle, all made in dark bricks to stay in the aesthetic of the place. Her and Harrison are actually standing of the steps that lead to it and (Y/N) feels like even smaller and fragile as she normally is. But is that weird she doesn’t feel frighten? At all?

’ So you found her, mate? ’

The voice makes (Y/N) jump and she lets the demon’s hand go, turning toward the new male’s voice. And she almost bumps into a body. When she backs up, after saying sorry, she sees a new demon.

’ Hi, I’m Jacob. (Y/N), right? ’

(Y/N) chooses to only nod at him. And her new encounter shakes vividly her hand.

’ Cool! He’s gonna be soooo excited to see you again! The man only talks about you and how you’re pretty, and you really are! ’

‘ Jacob, don’t scare her please… ‘ interrupts Harrison while approaching the two beings, staying next to (Y/N). ‘ She stills has to get used to Hell, you know? And- ‘

❞ Welcome back Harrison. Thank you so much for what you did, my friend. ❞

A new voice joins the talk. But this time, it brings shiver all over her body because she recognises it. She knows to who this fruity voice with a particular accent belongs to. For someone else it could be anybody. But for (Y/N) it can only be one person…

The young woman slowly turns over it, not really knowing what to expect. But when her angelic eyes cross his, for the first time in ages, this is it. The moment she waited for so long but never came until now. The moment she wishes to happen. It’s happening now.

This is him.

She stands here, surrounding by the other devil men, speechless. All emotions mix up in her body.

Tom exits the castle and stands on top of the stairs, tall and proud. All in black, from head to toes, but still as handsome as he was as an angel. The new King of Hell displays his enormous black wings on his back, showing his power to whoever is present at the moment. Harrison and Jacob kneel down. But (Y/N) couldn’t move but just admires Tom from the afar. Her heartbeats go insane and her breath accelerates.

“Tom…”

❞ Welcome back, my love. Welcome in Hell. And welcome home. ❞

🏷 Permanent tag list & mutuals 💖 (get notified)

@allegra-writes @tom-holland-is-spiderman @detroitbydark @blissfulparker @farfromhaz @xxtomxo @worldoftom @charismas-world @stiles-banshees @americaxo17 @zabdisamor @princezzariel @mcuassemble @thatweirdomimic @juliebean247 @harryhollandwhore @spiderbibby @intiate03 @himynameishooman @bookworm06 @flowerboyparker @miraclesoflove @eridanuswave @jillanaholland @mendes-marvel @biebsmylife95 @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @tsh-darling @popbubblegumpop @fanficscuziranout

🏷 Heavenly Yours tag list 🕊🔥 (get notified)

@shayminisshiny @skymoonandstardust @blissfulparker @sectusempried @iwastornsincethestart @the-professional-procastinator @bloodyscarlet @loxbbg @biebsmylife95

272 notes · View notes

mymiraclebox · 4 years

Text

The Fall of Atlantis (ML One-Shot)

Summary: When it came to the sinking of Atlantis, humans blamed Plagg, Destruction himself. But the kwamis remember that another of their kind had been lurking in the shadows.

Rating: Teen (implied death with the sinking of Atlantis)

Also read on ao3.

------------------------------

Attlantis was silent as he came flying out of the scarf, the transformation falling away as his chosen slipped into their home, a small little place. The human stretched, looking quite satisfied with himself. His kwami watched him wordlessly, his skin darkening to a deep blue as he regarded his human.

“This is not what my powers are to be used for, Calix,” he finally stated.

Calix threw the Octopus an unimpressed look. “Were you not the one that told me to use this Miraculous to choose my destiny?”

“Yes,” Attlantis said. “That does not mean you made the right Choice. I placed this power in your hands in the hope that you would help this land progress. Instead you have crowned yourself a god.”

He had sought out someone from humble origins in hopes that they would be humble themselves. He realized he had chosen incorrectly far too late– Calix donning the name of ‘Poseidon’ when transformed, and with the power he held many had come to believe that was who he was. Gifts and offerings had been presented to him, the fine trinkets lining the shelf of his small home, and all looked to him in awe.

He now had children on the way, conceived under false pretenses and a name that was not his.

Attlantis had watched this island be built and prosper; he and his holders had been among the first to arrive on this land, and it had even been named in his honor. The people that had lived then had been ones he had been proud of, those who had been worthy of the powers they were granted and the titles they gained– but that generation had only lasted for a moment in time. He had watched their descendants fall into greed, the Miraculouses in their possession.

As soon as Attlantis had been given the Choice to leave, he had.

He had taken his scarf and fled to the farthest corners of the island, watching as humans fought against one another, brother turning against brother– it was a sight he had dreaded to see. He did not understand, he and the others had been so careful with who they had brought to this land, and how their children had been raised– yet it seemed no matter what people they lived among, they fell into their selfish ways in just a couple of generations. This land had been meant to be a utopia, but it had become anything but that.

When Attlantis first found Calix he had been a quiet human, scavenging what he could for his family who lived off of the scraps of society. He had not been a grand leader like his past holders, but the small choices he made demonstrated greater morals than the momentous decisions the current rulers crafted.

Miraculouses granted power, power created influence– and the kwami had hoped that with his power Calix would be able to guide this island back towards the glory it had once held.

He had never imagined that Calix would turn into the very type of human he had fled from. One that chose to lie– not to protect and serve, but for his own selfish gain. One that drank the power that had fallen into his hands, and who had left the family he had cared for so diligently, to prosper on his own.

Attlantis could not understand– were all humans fated to the same destiny? Was corruption rooted in their beings?

The Octopus ate his meal in silence as Calix sat down to feast on the harvest he had been given today. Attlantis did not care that he was only given the scraps, he only thought for the younger sisters Calix had once fed, would they have been a better choice for the scarf that sat around his holder’s neck? Or would have they fallen to the same fate as their brother?

Calix fell upon his cot, lavished with fine fabrics and plush pillows that did not match the small shack they rested in. The kwami hovered above him, skin fading to a paler teal as he watched his holder, who said nothing to him as he fell asleep. When had he gone from companion to merely a tool? Were humans truly unable to see beyond themselves?

As soon as his breathing slowed and his snores became loud, and Attlantis swooped down, carefully reaching for the scarf around his neck. It shimmered as it was pulled from the human, turning into a shimmering material, an iridescence of blues and greens. The only reaction Calix gave to losing the Miraculous was a slight twitch in his sleep, twisting over to his side as he slept on. Calix had chosen not to give Attlantis any orders against taking the Miraculous– and so the kwami was glad to take it from someone as unworthy as him. He had given the human many chances, and none of them he had taken.

Attlantis stared down at Calix for a moment longer– leaving a holder was usually a time of grieving for a kwami, having grown close to the humans they could only know for such a short amount of time– but right now he felt nothing. It had been the same after his last holder, and the few before them. The last time he had felt anything had been generations ago.

What had humans become?

He slipped out through the door and into the cool night, the smell of earth and the sea rippling around him. He could search the island for a new holder... but Calix had been his last hope. He now knew that no one here would be worthy of wielding his power. As for his fellow kwamis that lived here... he was sure their powers should not be in the hands of humans either.

Attlantis made his decision in that moment– and he knew it was not a simple Choice. But with the mistakes he had already made and the darkness that was clouding the humans’ hearts he was certain that this would not be one he would regret. Others might though, and considering he could not do this alone... he would have to choose his words carefully.

There were several that could help him– Tonna’s powers would be best, but she lived on the other side of the world, and the time it would take him would allow for the corruption here to spread further. Nokk’s powers would be sufficient as well, and much closer, but there was one other kwami who was even nearer who could complete the task. The Alphas carried great force– but it was that power that he needed.

So Attlantis set off across the ocean, tentacles holding tightly to his scarf, heading towards Greece.

-----------

Though Creation and Destruction’s current wielders were not associated together, Attlantis was hoping that Paschalítsa wouldn’t be close at the moment, perhaps near the Black Sea as he heard she often was, but it wasn’t expected to find Perses and Paschalítsa so close to the other. Creation and Destruction went hand in hand, even if their current holders had little to do with each other.

“Kwami,” Perses said when he saw Attlantis approaching, stiffening up slightly. Paschalítsa raised her head, staring at him with an uninterested gaze. He wasn’t sure if he had intruded on a meeting or not, but he saw no reason to linger in the window. Human affairs were limited in their relevance.

“Greetings, Creation and Destruction,” Attlantis said, bowing his head somewhat, tentacle over his chest– the titles and gestures were beyond what he felt they deserved, but he needed their favor. The tentacles on his back held tightly to his Miraculous, not wanting it to fall into the hands of a human once more. “I am Attlantis, the kwami of Choice. I have come to seek a favor from Plagg.”

Paschalítsa stretched. “That’s yours, right? So can I leave now, or...?”

Perses sighed. “We still have much to discuss, Hippolyta. We shall continue after we speak to this kwami.” He turned his attention towards Attlantis. “I am not familiar with you, I am afraid. I am Perses, wielder of Destruction. Who is your wielder, and why have you come?”

“I have no wielder,” he said simply, and he felt a strange thrill at that thought. He had no holder, and he was not bound to a Miracle Box– what path he took from here was his choice and his alone. “I come from Atlantis, which was named in my honor, but the people there no longer treat the island with such. They have abused my powers, and the other kwamis which reside there. I have come to seek Destruction’s assistance.”

Perses looked alarmed. “Is there not a Guardian in the area for you to contact?”

Attlantis’ expression remained neutral, he had not gone to one for many reasons. They would simply remove his Miraculous and the others on the island, but the people and their corruption would still remain. There were other sources of powers they could seek– but a Guardian was not an option. His grip on his scarf tightened, pulling away from the humans.

“That was not an option,” he said simply. “I need to speak to Plagg.”

“Very well,” Perses said. “Plagg, claws in.”

The black ring on his finger gleamed, his transformation falling away as the kwami of Destruction came flying out from it, paws crossed. He hovered upside down in front of his holder for a moment, staring at him.

“Cheese, Petros,” Plagg finally said. Petros sighed, before pulling out a piece of feta, which the kwami swooped down and ate in a single bite, before turning towards the Octopus. “Attlantis,” he said, sounding surprised. “Haven’t seen you in a few centuries. What’s going on?”

“The people of Atlantis are planning a siege against this land,” Attlantis said, the lie flowing off his tongue with ease. “Their numbers and weaponry are great, and they will be using our brethren as well. I barely managed to escape, but something must be done.”

Plagg’s holder, Petros, looked up with wide eyes. “Why did you not alert us to this the moment you came here, Kwami? This is no small matter– we must alert others right away. Hippolyta, you should gather your sisters, I will alert our Guardian–”

“No.” Attlantis said. “The innocent people of this land would be slain if there was such a battle, we must stop this before it can begin, which is why I seek Plagg’s assistance.” He took in a deep breath, not knowing how his request would be received. “I believe our best course of action would be to eliminate the problem– rid them of their navy and vessels, and they cannot cross the oceans to this land. That will give us plenty of time to prepare.”

Paschalítsa raised her head, now looking interested. “Destroying a whole fleet? I like the way you think, little kwami.”

Plagg crossed his paws. “There’s a reason why you got Tikki and not me, Paschalítsa.” He turned to Attlantis, head tilted slightly. “When you say you want my help, you mean my abilities without a holder?”

“If it is a lack of control you fear, I can help you,” Attlantis said, holding out a paw. “I can help rein in your abilities with what you choose to destroy, but we simply do not have time to wait for your holder to cross the sea to guide your Cataclysm. We need to leave now.”

Plagg turned to Petros. “Well kid, what do you say?”

“Me?” Petros said, looking slightly surprised.

“You’re wearing the ring, kid. I’m not leaving you unless you are okay with it.”

Attlantis’ tentacles tightened on his Miraculous. One of the most powerful beings in this universe, and he left his fate in the hands of one who would be gone in the blink of an eye? Perhaps for the ones who had proven themselves, but he was beginning to see that was quite rare to find among mankind.

“Of course, Plagg,” Petros said. “We swore to protect this land, and if this is the best way to do so then we will do so.”

Paschalítsa raised an eyebrow. “So, are you going to say you need Tikki next too or something? How do we not know this is a trick to strip us powerless and leave us vulnerable to attack?”

“I am not here to drag Creation away from you,” Attlantis said.

Plagg flipped upside down. “He has his Miraculouses with him– that means no one ordered him to do this. Nothing not to trust.”

“Just like that?”

“Unlike you humans,” Plagg said. “We kwamis don’t turn against each other.”

“Shall we go?” Attlantis said, not wanting to waste their time with these humans. He held out a paw. “I can help hide us to avoid detection.”

Plagg replied by flying over to him, placing his paw into his.

“Cloak,” Attlantis whispered softly, waves of rippling energy spreading across them. Within moments he and Plagg’s colors had morphed, perfectly matching the walls around them, even the scarf he held. Petros took a step forward, looking at their now nearly invisible forms in awe.

“See you around, kid,” Plagg said with a cackle, and together they flew out the window.

They were on their way, and soon Attlantis would be at peace.

-------------------

Attlantis had not wasted a single moment of his and Plagg’s journey, telling the kwami of every single thing Calix and his previous holders had done while in possession of his Miraculous. Unlike some of his previous words to his fellow kwami these were not lies, but he carefully chose to leave out details, painting his story so that it would suit his purposes.

“Your Guardian should have checked up on your island,” Plagg muttered.

“Perhaps he agreed with the idea of war?” Attlantis suggested.

The Black Cat shivered at the thought. “No matter what he believes, he knows that Miraculouses shouldn’t be used that way. I think this is a much bigger issue than you realize, Attlantis. As soon as we destroy this fleet we need to prepare.”

Attlantis smiled softly. He had said the right thing, if even the lax Destruction was this concerned. His gaze shifted to Plagg, whose eyes were lit with determination. He brushed his tentacle against his fur ever so slightly, releasing the tiniest amount of his power into the Black Cat– who didn't even blink.

But with each soft touch Attlantis was slowly securing the kwami’s decision of Destruction, so when the time came there would be no chance for hesitation, no restraint when the Cataclysm was released. Because destroying a mere fleet would not be enough, Attlantis knew that to stop this corruption they would have to go to the very roots.

---------------------

“Looks peaceful enough,” Plagg muttered as they approached Atlantis.

“Wait until you see the weaponry they’ve stockpiled,” Attlantis said simply. “Perhaps we should begin there, and not the fleet. No ships means they can’t sail, but no weapons means that they cannot harm anyone.”

Besides, Plagg seeing a lack of war vessels in the harbor would only raise his suspicions.

Plagg’s eyes gleamed. “Take me there.”

Destruction had truly grown to love the many city-states and all the lands in between, Attlantis could see that. He wondered if Plagg would feel the same despair he had when his people eventually caved to corruption, or would the Black Cat be blinded by the fondness he held now? They would have to see in time.

Attlantis led him to the small shack Calix called home. Plagg looked at the small, pitiful building, then back at the Octopus almost doubtfully, but when he saw the burning rage in the normally calm kwami’s eyes he saw no reason not to believe him. He circled the small shack, whose windows were still covered from when Calix hid his offerings. He wondered if his former holder was still in there now, clinging to the last of the treasures he had taken before he had left.

“Doesn’t look like much,” Plagg commented.

“It’s an entrance to an underground system,” Attlantis replied. “You will want to project your powers to below the surface, destroy it all before they have a chance to scavenge a single arrow.”

Plagg gently placed a paw on the roof of the shack, and Attantlis felt himself growing restless. The Black Cat was hesitating, or perhaps calculating just how much of his Destruction to unleash. It didn’t matter though, because his decision had been cemented long before they had reached this little shack.

“Cataclysm,” he muttered, clearly intending to release the smallest amount he could– but as the words slipped through his lips Attlantis lashed out at him, tentacles pulsing with light as he released his own energy into the Black Cat.

"Course," Attlantis hissed, and Plagg let out a gasp, but his Choice was made final in that moment, and the Cataclysm surged up into a blinding flare of black light.

Attlantis smiled faintly as the shack crumbled to ash, the surrounding plants withering upon contact– the fully powered-Cataclysm rippling out at the surrounding land. Cracks appeared in the earth, the crevices crumbling and widening as the entire land shook from the growing Destruction.

“What did you do?” Plagg shouted, whipping around to face Attlantis with wide eyes.

“Just... confirmed your choice to use your powers,” Attlantis said softly as he released Plagg, barely heard over the rupturing from the island. “Making sure that you didn’t hold back.”

Another loud rumble shook the island, the spreading darkness creeping across the island. Plagg tried to race ahead of it. “We need to warn the humans!” He cried. “That was too much force, Attlantis, you know my powers are unpredictable– this whole place is going to crumble!”

“Exactly,” Attlantis said, unmoving, and Plagg froze. “Perhaps there was no fleet or forming army, but with the path they were on I am sure it would have only been a matter of time.”

The Black Cat looked back at him, mouth open, searching for words he did not know. The horror in his eyes was raw, and it made the Octopus hum in amusement. Attlantis simply rose higher into the air, watching as earth began to crumble into the sea, the destruction webbing out across the island. Buildings fell in its wake, and the sounds of screams were heard between the rumbles and the quakings.

Plagg rushed down towards the island, in what Attlantis knew was a vain attempt to save those who remained. He remained up in the sky, wrapping his scarf around him as the sun slowly rose in the east– the grand island of Atlantis withering away into nothing. The sea churned, waves crashing as chunks of earth and rocks crashed into it, the cacophony of Destruction sounding like a symphony to his ears.

Attlantis closed his eyes as the last of the island sank into the ocean, a smile on his face.

“You lied to me?” Plagg cried, and the kwami opened a purple eye to find that the Black Cat had returned. He was trembling, the hurt in his gaze clear. “How... how could you do that? Why would you do that?”

“You would not have chosen to help me otherwise,” Attlantis said simply. “And I did not possess the power to do it for myself.”

“They’re dead Attlantis!” Destruction screamed. “Every human on this island is dead because of you– you killed them!”

“No, you killed them,” Attlantis said, and Plagg flinched back as if he had been hit. “It was not all lies I told you, Plagg, the deeds of my past holders did happen– and after what Calix had done I knew there was no hope left for the humans here.” He stared down at the ocean below them. “I could not just leave and let this corruption continue.”

“That was not your choice to make,” Plagg hissed.

Attlantis tilted his head. “How is it any different than when you and Shii culled the dinosaurs? And the creatures that roamed this earth before them?”

Plagg looked at a loss for words, and Attlantis turned away. This was not the first time they had rid Earth of life they had deemed unfit, so he saw no reason why now should be any different. He drifted forward, looking down at the restless sea, knowing that it wouldn’t be the two of them alone here for long. The humans may have not survived, but for kwamis death was not a reality they would live.

Skyy was the first to surface, the Griffin bursting up from the waves, her Miraculous clutched in her paws. Her eyes were sharp as she looked about, zipping up towards the frozen Plagg, wings flaring.

“What have you done?!” She snarled.

Haabu, Orikko, and Finn were the next ones to surface, the Rattlesnake’s, Rooster’s and Salmon’s expression more akin to Plagg’s as they looked down at where their home had once been– which was nothing more than another part of the endless expanse of ocean. Attlantis was glad to see that each had been able to lay claim to their Miraculouses, their fate no longer bound to the humans they had been serving.

“Did you think you had a right, Destruction?” Skyy screeched. “Where is your other half? Bring Creation here to restore what you have done!”

“There will be no undoing what has taken place,” Attlantis said, slowly drifting up towards them. “Plagg’s Cataclysm was done under my influence– his Choice is final.”

Skyy turned towards him. “You... you helped with this? Our island? Our land? Our people?!”

Attlantis smiled softly, aware of the other three kwamis that drifted up behind him, trying to make sense of what had just taken place. “This was entirely my Choice, Skyy. I guided Destruction here under false promises.”

“Our holders... they’re... dead.” Orikko whispered.

“One trick all humans have in common,” Attlantis agreed. “Surely you saw the paths they were going down were not good ones. Had we let this continue...” He shook his head. “This was necessary.”

Finn drew close to Attlantis. “Perhaps their choices were not Wise, but their fate was not meant to be of our choosing.”

Haabu shook her rattle. “Did you know this was going to happen, Finn?”

The Salmon locked eyes with Attlantis. “Attlantis has chosen his path, interference would have made no difference in the end.”

“You murdered my holder!” Skyy screeched, rushing at Attlantis, and he had no time to react– the Griffin slamming into him. Her paws slashed at him, and he lashed out with his tentacles in retaliation, Skyy’s cries drowning out the shouts of their fellow kwamis as they struggled in the air.

Orikko rushed between them, while Haabu’s tail wrapped around Attlantis’ body, trying to pull him back. Finn tried to approach Skyy, but she dove at Attlantis once more with ruffled feathers.

“Murderer!”

“Enough!” Plagg’s voice echoed across the waters, the entire air shaking with the power the Alpha carried. All the kwamis went still in response, the tension palpable. “...Haabu, take his Miraculous.”

“No!” Attlantis cried, whipping about, but the Rattlesnake had already gotten a hold of the scarf. He rushed forward in a chance to reclaim it, but Skyy blocked his path, wings flared open. He glowered at them, knowing he needed to reclaim the scarf– because without it his freedom was nothing. Fellow kwamis couldn’t force him to obey, but as long as they held it they could not stray far.

“Finn, Haabu,” Plagg said, trembling slightly. “I’m counting on you to make sure that his Miraculous falls into no one else’s hands but your Guardian’s. Tell them exactly what happened– I need to return to Greece and see if Tikki and I can reverse what happened.”

“You know you can’t,” Attantlis said, tentacles curling. “Not under my influence. Not without Vitaa's Life.”

“I’ll go with them,” Skyy said, a growl in her voice. “He shouldn’t be out of the Miracle Box for some time, not when he’s killing humans.”

Attlantis sneered. “Do you think I want to be another pawn for a human? Very well, return me to the Miracle Box– better than serving for a corrupted cause!”

“Orikko, you come with me,” Plagg said softly.

“Of course,” the Rooster said, drifting up towards the Black Cat, who turned his back on the other kwamis. He was shaking slightly, and if it was from anger or sorrow, Attlantis did not know– though he would pity the kwami if he truly felt sorrow for those who had once been here.

Attlantis felt his Miraculous switch paws, Finn carefully taking the scarf into his care. It would be near impossible to reclaim the Miraculous with his keen Foresight. He closed his eyes, but saw no further reason to fight. His mission had been accomplished, and the people of Atlantis could no longer abuse the powers of the Miraculouses. They could lock him away for a time, but he was sure they would come to see that his Choice and been the right one.

-----------------------

The other kwamis refused to speak to Attlantis once he returned to the realm of the Miracle Box.

He understood their Choice– for they called him a traitor among kwamis. He had lied and tricked an Alpha. His actions had not only slaughtered Miraculous holders, but a whole kingdom as well. But letting a bad branch of humanity continue to grow... it would infect all those who remained. Loss was necessary for the growth of the better parts of humanity. Though how long they would survive– he did not know.

He lingered in the far corners of their pocket dimension, far from where the others gathered. Attlantis took no part in celebrating the kwamis who returned or those who were setting off to a new holder, no care for what human they would end up in the hands of. He was content with the peace he had for a time– but like all creatures he too grew lonely.

Yuume was the kwami of Dreams– and as such he spent more time asleep in the world of dreams than he did awake in the Miracle Box. He did not think the Sheep would be keen to his presence if he were to wake, but the Octopus was content to linger near him when he craved the company of another. He was careful to leave when he saw signs of him awakening, not wanting to disturb him.

Yet the Dreams Yuume roamed in were not always peaceful, and it was only a matter of time before he was awakened from one with Attlantis was near.

It had been a quiet time when the Sheep jerked awake suddenly, a look of horror on his face– no other kwami near them. Yuume’s paws were wrapped closely to him as he looked about, the young kwami seemingly not realizing he was now awake. Attlantis drew back, expecting to see horror on his face if he was seen, but before the Octopus could move away his fellow kwami was rushing at him– and Attlantis froze as Yuume’s paws wrapped around him.

“Are... Are you alright?” Attlantis asked in surprise– and he wasn't sure how long it had been since he had spoken to another.

Yuume shook. “They weren’t always like this. Why must they be like this?”

He patted Yuume’s back uncertainly. “What happened?”

“Dreams used to be pleasant,” he muttered softly, still pressing into his embrace. “But very few are now– what has become of humanity?”

The Octopus blinked, before bringing him in a bit closer. “Indeed.” He said quietly. “What has become of humanity?”

#atlantis #attlantis #miraculous ladybug #plagg #ml plagg #kwami #kwami oc #kwamis #miraculous ladybug oc #miraculous oc #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ml fanfic

19 notes · View notes

harleyquinnbluemoonlove · 4 years

Text

Welcoming the new Social Movement/Platform/Political Party in the World

Official Name: Blue Dog Bite Mafia 888 *BETA*

Owner/CEO/Founder/Dealer/Player/Delivery BAD B:

Current Name: Monica Gill FUTURE Name: Mercedes Lynnette Giovanni

Email: [email protected]

Current Financial Status: $0.00 ---- You may DONATE by using CASH APP Cash Tag #$bluedogbitemafia888

***MY CYBER FAMILY MUST ENSURE THAT DONATIONS ARE NOT HIGHJACKED/STOLEN****

BASIC IDEA/PLAN OF ATTACK/EXECUTION OR POSITIVE WORDS LIKE “LAUNCH”. We can issue an ATTACK or a LAUNCH CODE.

I will dumb it down a little bit. I am taking advantage of my position of power, now that I am a Celebrity in the World. Its the greatest feeling in the world, feels better than good sex and that is a hard thing for me to admit because I love some good, hot, sweaty sex and I’ve been going without for several weeks. I almost fell like a Nun because I cannot even pleasure myself because I was molested as a child by Lovie Price’s boyfriend “Frank Parker” a gasoline man from an early. I told Connie Price about it when I was 15 and her name at the time was Connie Dunford. It was the same day Brandie Ann Thompson said Curtis Triplett tried to rape her in the bathroom at the house In Frayser, Memphis TN. Brandie Ann in her hayday, resembled a youthful Cameron Diaz. Cameron Diaz dated Justin Timberlake once upon a time. She played in the move “The mask” and the mask was green. At the end of the movie, the dog put on the mask. You all know, when you wear that mask---you become a Shape Shifter, transforming into anything/anyone you think will grab the Hot or Not Rated #10 Woman’s ATTENTION/HEART/LOVE and will do anything, I mean anything to get it. The secret to my success is a compilation of everything good, bad, dirty, evil and let’s call it “The Struggle” or the “Human Experience”.

Old School (OS) Operating System (OS) Back to Basics (B2B) Brandie Thompson (BT) Barry Thompson (BT) Blue Tooth (BT) Brandie Smith (BS) Bull Shit (BS) Rent A Center (RAC) Roger Adren Crawford (RAC) $1K (RAK) Rags to Riches Richard Abernathy (RA) **secret boyfriend shh!!** Douche Bag (DB) or Douglas Belknap (DB) Thomas Jones (TJ) County Road (CR) Danny Thomas (DT) Deanna Thomas (DT) ... Trying to show you how I think period dot. In ya’ll are slow, period dot also equal two dots. You must have two dots to play connect the dots and draw the lines to illustrate inspiration into a masterpiece. The best pieces of Art are very old, have a solid reputation, and is properly curated to ensure it maintains its value for infinity times three.

Basically, you can get with my program, drink my Kool Aid, swallow your pride, do the right thing, if you have done something wrong, you really need to return to your basic religious beliefs what they may be, get right with yourself, because what you have done will come to light, exposed, we are moving on from there. We are, as a society going to change and deliver the children and the children’s children: a brighter future with more options, a limited amount of privacy, give them the world and see what they can accomplish with living in a world of positive vibes, beautiful colors, great music, entrepreneurship, dreams, and now, the little girls if we get married will truly believe in fairytales. This right here is whats up because we have an opportunity, once in a lifetime opportunity, to fix society, establish unity and peace, competition is good but everyone needs a chance to win sometimes to boost their confidence and pride. When there is monopoly or kingdom, it fosters the seven deadly sins, seven capital sins, and the seven cardinal sins, which is systemic to original sin.

Genesis clearly explains that certain things were created on certain days and back time was measured. You cannot just create a man or a woman. First, you need the Universe. Then, you need the Galaxy which creates Space. In Space, you have the moon, stars, sun, planets, black holes, asteroids, comets, shooting stars, orbit, gravitational pull. Here we are on planet Earth with 7 continents and 7 oceans. I like the number 8 because it represent a number, a symbol, and no limitations--infinity. My son was born on 3-8-03 weighing 8 pounds, 8 ounces and 19.5 inches long, color: BLUE, life: No sign of it. It took 10 minutes and PLEADING WITH THE LORD AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS SCREAMING PRAYING TO PLEASE GIVE HIM LIFE, I DON’T WANT TO HAVE GONE THROUGH 35.5 HOURS OF LABOR AND 7 HOURS OF HARD PUSHING WITH NO PAIN MEDICINE, NO EPIDURAL, GAVE BIRTH TO A STILL BORN BABY NATURALLY AND THE GOOD LORD ANSWERED MY PRAYERS AND THAT BOY CRIED AND WENT TO THE NICU AT BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL IN MONTGOMERY COUNTY, MARYLAND. ITS ALSO REFERRED TO AS “THE PRESIDENTS HOSPITAL”.

He is 17 years old, already a MASTERMIND and a Professional Gamer. He is so smart like me, that he had to design/build/code his own computer because there is not a computer on the planet that can keep up with his level of gaming. I saw a photo of it. Its a desktop computer with the case taken off the side--lit up with blue LED lights

It’s Confession Time and Holy Communion Time that means confess your sin, wrongdoing, break bread, eat bread, drink wine, not whine. No days off, no excuse, no immunity, no setups, no blame game, no liars, no stealing, checks and balances, no absolute power because absolute power fosters absolute corruption, which is why were in this position right now with COVID-19, Corona Virus.

I think one person needs a pardon because he has stayed on the job, even though he was originally lied to by the Feds. He deserves a pardon, record expunged, and an opportunity. I see great potential, just needs an opportunity, believe in himself, and have the courage to escape his own prison of gold diggers, groupies, fans, and whores.

In this triad, it is a rags to riches story times three. There is only 1 TRUE VERSION of ME, and its right here in Memphis TN, age: 41(Birth Cert).

To succeed in any sports game, you must be fit, educated, content with yourself to include your pros/cons/demons and knowledgeable & intelligent enough to know that I am certified True OG, I got your back no matter what because to me money ain’t a thing, fame fades just like stars, but loyal dogs do not turn on their master unless they are abused or hungry. I am a Blue AKC Royal Bloodline Pitbull, Staffordshire Terrier. Pitbull is the image you need to have in your mind when you think of ME.

#donations #loyalty #888 #TRUMP2020 #IG #WHISTEBLOWER ACT #RULES #ESPNSPORTS #RAPGODS #GREEKGODS #GOD #CLASHOFTITANS #THEGAME #THEROCK #GLUE #DOCTORS #LAWYERS #COWBOYS #DANCE #L.I.F.E. #LOVE #SM #EM

#NEED SOME COM[ANY AND VITAMIN D

BLUE, COME ON UNLESS YOU ARE “CHICKEN” “SCARED”

I PROMISE I WILL NOT BITE. BUT, I AM STARVING, LONELY, NEED MONEY TO CREATE AND LAUNCH MY DREAMS TO POSITIVELY AND EFFECTIVELY CHANGE THE WORLD WHICH WILL PLACE ME AND PRESIDENT TRUMP IN THE HISTORY BOOKDS. AND THE HISTORY BOOKS ARE GOING TO BECOME FACTBOOKS, AND HISTORY CLASSES WILL BE MANDATORY THROUGHOUT LIFE REGARDLESS OF AGE, POSITION, JOB, FINANCIAL STATUS BECAUSE THE BEST EDUCATION IS A “CONTINUOUS EDUCATION”. IF YOU DO NOT CONTINUE LEARNING, YOU BECOME RUSTY AND THEN, YOU CANNOT KEEP UP THE FAST PACED CHANGES OF ADVANCE TECHNOLOGY IN THE REAL WORLD AND IN THE REAL GAME OF LIFE.

RECOMMENDATIONS ARE AS FOLLOWS:

1. DONATE MONEY TO MY CAUSE ON CASH APP

$BLUEDOGBITEMAFIA888

DO NOT HACK MY PHONE OR MY LAPTOP, DO NOT HACK ANYTHING OR ANYBODY BC YOU CANNOT DO IT BETTER THAN U.S. BC U.S. CREATED THE INTERNET IN WASHINGTON DC AT THE PENTAGON CALLED “DARPANET” IN 1974. THE FIRST COMPUTER WAS AN APPLE, SECOND COMPUTER WAS MICROSOFT. A GOOD BRAND IS A HP WITH MS WINDOWS. I HAVE A BLUE HP LAPTOP STREAM, I HAVE A BLACK APPLE IPHONE 7. I AM ON A WIFI WITH A VPN THAT KEEPS GETTING DISABLED. THE SOUND ON MY PHONE DOES NOT WORK. I AM BACKING UP BOTH DEVICES AND GOING TO RESET TO FACTORY SETTINGS SO I CAN GURANTEE EFFECTIVE DIGITAL SECURITY.

2. I NEED COMPANY TO SIT WITH ME, DRINK WITH ME. I WOULD LOVE SOME JACK AND COKE OR A BUD LIGHT. I WOULD ALSO LOVE SOME FOOD THAT CONTAINS RED MEAT TO ASSIST ME WITH MY BLOOD PROBLEMS. BUDDY OR BLUE OR YO -- FIGURE IT AND SEND ME SOMEONE I KNOW. I AM TOO PRETTY AND TOO COOL TO BE CHILLING BY MYSELF WITH NO FOOD, NO ALCOHOL, NO MONEY, NO WEED, ETC.

3. SELF EVALUATE OR DO A PEER REVIEW/. SELF EVALUATION IS LOOKING AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR AND THINKING ABOUT YOUR LIFE. I LIKE TO WRITE THINGS DOWN, IF HELPS ME. IT WILL BRING ABOUT A SENSE OF UNDERSTANDING WHO, WHAT, WHY YOU ARE WHO YOU ARE, HOW YOU BECAME PERSON, AND DESIGN YOUR OWN ROADMAP TO BEING A BETTER PERSON AND OPENING YOUR HEART TO REALIZATION THAT THE CHILDREN ARE THE FUTURE, RIGHT WE ARE THE WORLD, WE CAN ACHIEVE GREATNESS, A NEW TYPE OF MAGIC “UTOPIA”.

WHAT ARE YOU ABOUT? WHAT DO YOU WANT OUT OF LIFE? ARE YOU HAPPY WITH YOURSELF? CAN YOU FREE YOUR MIND? CAN YOU OPEN YOUR HEARTS? CAN YOU COMMIT? DO YOU KNOW WHEN TO WALK AWAY? WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE IN? DO YOU HAVE CONFIDENCE? ARE YOU IN YOUR OWN PRISON--YOUR MIND, YOUR FEELINGS, YOUR RELATIONSHIP STATUS?

WISDOM COMES WITH TIME, EXPERIENCE, EDUCATION, HARD WORK, SERVICE, LOYALTY, PURPOSE, AND TRAVELING.

At the end of the day, who do you want to be with?

Woman - Wise can deliver the world or drop the world, age 41 -- looks better than 20 & 30 year old GIRLS. Does not care about money, fame, status, power because the game was scheduled and unfortunately, unaware of the OP -- she walked, ran, sprinted STOLE the Flag, and won the game.

Everyone wants to still run their mouths, try to control a man, and those hos, have no power, position, fame, etc. They are with or around you because of who you are, what you have done, and what you can give them---in my opinion that is abuse of power and targeting someone to manipulating them to do what you want them to do.

I like structure, things to be done a certain way because I like cleanliness, organization, faith, love, hope, trust, and loyalty.

I would not cop an attitude with everyone, if I did not feel like the world was against me. Hint, hint -- I don’t trust authority figures because I was molested, abused, targeted, almost died several times, lied to, cheated on, setups, smear campaigns, gossiped about, bullied, beat on, yelled at, called names, jealous women everywhere so dumb they forget I have a hunger against Human Trafficking. People are on this RACISM BULL SHIT.

Its 2020, Racism = IGNORANCE AND IGNORANCE IS NOT BLISS ANYMORE, IGNORANCE IS DEADLY.

Basic belief system of Karma, it is a metaphysical/paranormal reality that is mixed with real, artificial, and soon-to-be virtual reality. It is what it is.

What you set your mind, what you do and the thoughts and actions you put into the world will either grant you your dreams or come back times three by the of karma, what goes around, comes around.

I want/will do good and be a good role model for everyone. I am going to teach, help you, do what I want, when I want, how I want because I know my worth, my value, and what I can GURANTEE/DELIVER.

Greed, jealousy, laziness, and all the ugly things that are in the world

WILL

get you no where but hungry, lonely but free, penniless, candy-less, eliminate sports.

COMMIT OR QUIT

MY MISSION WILL ENDURE AND CARRY ON UNTIL I FEEL MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. I DO NOT HAVE A FAILURE TO THRIVE AND I DO NOT LACK A WILL TO LIVE.

MY ISNT OVER, YET;

3 notes · View notes

midnightartemis · 4 years

Text

~Chapter Sixteen Up Now~

Read Me Here

“To understand magic, you must first understand what magic is. The better your understanding of it, the better you can master it. Most of you, if not all of you will never understand magic. You can study the spells and the history and the art all you want, but unless you find that understanding in yourself, in your soul, you will never be a great witch or wizard.”

Rey watched as her fellow Hufflepuff classmates shrugged off Professor Skywalker’s harsh words. Part of it, she thought, was the idea that Hufflepuffs were rarely destined for greatness anyway and that to not be a hero was a weight off their shoulders. It was an absurd idea, one that could be contested with more than a dozen witches and wizards from Hufflepuff that had achieved glory or fame in their own right. She had seen only glimpses of that power— woe betides the man who insulted a Hufflepuff’s friend.

The other half of the classroom, made up of Ravenclaw first years, shared confused and terrified looks. From that alone, Rey knew she was in for an afternoon of Rose overanalyzing and complaining about Professor Skywalker’s remarks. She’d most likely start with the fact that, quote, “Anyone can master anything if they study hard enough.” A fact that Rose liked to bring up whenever Rey or Finn got frustrated over homework.

“Magic flows through all things animate and inanimate. It can be stored, transferred, honed, and warped.” As Professor Skywalker spoke, a piece of chalk floated up from its tray and began to write those four points on the small black chalkboard. Quills began to scratch down the notes on parchment quickly, but Rey was too drawn into the lesson to take any of her own. “Indeed, each of you contains a finite amount of power–”

Professor Skywalker tapped ‘ stored’ on the board with his wand. “Transferred from the magic that runs through the universe. And with your wands, you can hone that power. Ask it to perform different tasks. The most powerful wizards can do this without their wands. Magic changes the reality around you, letting you control and manipulate the seen and unseen. Warping the world to protect yourself. To attack. To transfigure objects. Creature potions. Manipulate the mind. Cause chaos and confusion. Or ease and peace.”

He stored his wand away, grey eyes surveying the classroom with a steely gaze. As he spoke, his voice darkened, those eyes flashing back to a time that Rey had only heard of. “These four things define the way we view and use magic within this world. In the right hands, magic can perform great deeds. Can heal and create. In the wrong hands, magic is the most destructive force in the world. It can tear through minds, turn those who love you against you, bring death and chaos to all who meet it. There are those who would use this dark side of magic to bring the world as you know it to its knees. Who would destroy anyone who got in their way of making a so-called utopia. Once the darkness takes control, it can be difficult, if not nearly impossible, to return to the light. Those who master this path of darkness are known as Sith. They are little more than creatures of darkness, corrupted until they are no longer human. I only hope that you never cross one.”

Professor Skywalker paused, letting his warning fall over the room and silencing them all. “That is why, in this classroom, I will focus our efforts on defensive spells and teach you how to control yourselves as young witches and wizards. A good wizard uses magic for knowledge and defense, never for attack."

Beside Rey, Rose’s hand shot up. Professor Skywalker barely had time to acknowledge her before she asked her question. “If our magic is finite, how do we know when it’s gone?”

Professor Solo raised his eyebrows. “You will know when it’s gone because you will be dead, Miss Tico. Most never get that far. As you all know, or will soon learn, there are limits to magic. One cannot bring back someone from the dead, for instance. Trying to do so would exhaust the warlock who attempted to the point where they, too, would die. Magic can be repleted, however. I find a good night's sleep does the trick.”

“And you said it can be stored. How so? If magic is finite but it can be repleted and stored, can’t people just store enough of it to do something impossible, such as bring back the dead?”

Professor Skywalker’s eyes narrowed into a storm at Rose’s questions. Rey had the very distinct feeling that Rose was going down a path she should not. “There are objects which act much as people and magical creatures do. Take the Sorting Hat versus a regular hat, or one that’s had a spell cast on it to speak. All magic is not equal, Miss Tico. All animate and inanimate objects are not made equal. Storing magic requires more magic than most can stand. It is a very dangerous practice which was outlawed several hundred years ago. Punishment for such a practice is a lifetime in Azkaban as those who wish to store magic often fall to the dark side. I ask that you leave it at that.”

There was something in his voice that left no room for questioning. Even Rose and her million-question mind were stymied by Professor Solo’s response. For a moment, Rey swore the Professor’s eyes flickered to her.

The rest of the class was spent on note-taking from the defensive spells section of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Qui-Gon Jinn. Notes and reading did nothing but make her squirm. She wanted nothing more than to be with Ben in the Room of Requirement practicing all of the spells and techniques that Qui-Gon Jinn was outlining. As Rey read further, she realized that they had been working on… Yes, practically all of the rudimentary spell work and techniques. Though Ben took a more aggressive approach, she recognized the footwork and wandwork demonstrated in the frustratingly small diagrams. As she read, the words clicked into place in a way they hadn’t before. Her eyes devoured the words as quickly as she could scribble down her notes.

She hardly noticed when class was dismissed, taken out of her intense studies when Rose poked her. “Come on!”

Rey scrambled to put her things away and ran after Rose into the halls. Rose looped her arm through Rey’s and giggled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that deep into schoolwork.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “I think you’ve been having a bad influence on me.”

She walked beside Rose as they headed off to the Great Hall and Rose set off on Rey’s predicted tangent of how anyone could become a great wizard if they studied enough. It wasn’t until Rey stepped into the great hall that she stopped and patted the side of her bag. It was definitely lighter than usual.

“Did you forget something?” Rose stopped in her ranting and cocked her head to the side.

Rey dug through her bag. “I think so. I think I had my Astronomy book in here. I must have taken it out and set it down before D.A.D.A. I’ll just run back and grab it. I need it tonight.”

“Do you want me to come with?” Rose asked, but Rey already disappeared down the corridor.

She hurried through the mostly vacant halls, hoping that there wasn’t a class in the DADA classroom during this period. Rey let out a sigh of relief when she found the door standing open and a quiet classroom beyond.

Well, very nearly quiet.

“We are barely into the new semester and, already, not one but two detentions. Talking back to me is one thing. Asking me questions about dark magic is another. But hexing another student? The son of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot?” Professor Skywalker’s voice hissed loudly from the slightly ajar door to his office. It was filled with barely uncontrolled anger that Rey was loathe to be on the receiving end of. “Do you forget who your mother is? Do you know the kind of pressure she is under?”

“How can I forget when it’s all I hear about every two seconds?”

Rey froze at the sound of Ben’s voice. She could see her book sitting under her desk where it must have fallen. She should just grab it and go.

“Nevermind the fact that Hux deserved it. Nevermind the fact that he was calling students mudbloods. Perhaps next time I’ll just join in. How do you think the Prime Minister will feel about that? Perhaps I should forget when I’m so easily replaceable that she’d rather spend Christmas with a bloody random nobody she picked up off the streets?”

Rey felt a lance through her heart. Is that what he really thought of her? A nobody? She hadn’t meant to hide the fact that Leia had invited her to Chewie’s hut for Christmas. He’d just been so upset at them already. She hadn’t known.

Whatever Luke said next was too low for Rey to make out, but it was enough for the wooden door to his office to burst open and for Ben to angrily storm out. Rey watched as he swept down the small set of curved stairs, his cloak billowing behind him. He got to the bottom and turned. Dark eyes came to meet hers and he stopped.

Rey’s words caught in her throat. She wasn’t even sure of what to say as she tried to process everything.

He hexed Hux?

Nobody.

Perhaps next time, I’ll join in.

Ben steeled his face into a dark mask void of emotions when she didn’t speak. His hands flexed before he resumed his swift exit out of the classroom. It wasn’t until he brushed past her that Rey fell out of her stupor.

“Ben!” Rey turned, catching his hand in hers. Ben paused only for a moment to look down at his hand caught in hers. The mask over his face stayed as he tore his hand from hers and left. Rey stared at the door long after he had gone.

“Miss Niima.”

Rey jumped at Professor Skywalker’s voice behind her. She turned away from the door quickly to look up at him in his grey robes. “Sorry, professor. I forgot my Astronomy book in here and I was just picking it up.”

She hurried over to her desk and picked up her book. With shaky hands, she struggled to shove it into her book bag.

“You’ve been progressing very quickly in your studies.”

“I… I just really enjoy Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Rey looked back towards the door. She wanted to go after Ben, but he was probably long gone. “I’ve been practicing.”

“Practicing?” Professor Skywalker raised his brows. He was trying to draw more out of her. Rey couldn’t help but feeling he already had his suspicions.

“I should go. I’m missing dinner.”

The professor paused for a moment, holding Rey in his gaze before nodding. “Indeed.”

Rey turned and hurried for the door only to be stopped once more by Professor Skywalker.

“Rey?”

“Yes, Professor?” She didn’t want to look at him, but forced herself to meet his gaze anyway.”

“Remember what I taught you today. And be wary of those who ignore it.”

#reylo #kylo x rey #ben solo x rey #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #reylo fiction #ben solo deserved better #fall of ben solo #rise of kylo ren

1 note · View note

florencemeivey · 4 years

Text

An End, Once and For All (Final Chapter of Somewhere Down the Line)

Like it always seems to do, life went on, and this time, it was free from the Reapers. The galaxy had a lot of rebuilding to do, and a lot of losses to grieve, but much to celebrate as well.

Shortly after she learned to walk on her own, Shepard’s survival was officially announced. The Alliance gave her command of the Normandy again; it would serve as the newly-titled Admiral Shepard’s personal flagship for the fleet she would be given control of. It was the least they could do, nearly everyone agreed. Shepard herself was honored, but knew that there was something she had to do before she took up the reins of Admiral.

She asked for Joker until one day, he decided to come. That first visit was mainly him yelling at Shepard, which she patiently took, as she knew being yelled at was the least she deserved. The moment of truth was when Joker asked her if it had been Garrus’ life on the line, would she have made the same decision? Shepard had to admit that she probably wouldn’t have. While she thought this would truly drive Joker away, it in fact paved the way for forgiveness. It took many more visits before Shepard convinced Joker to resume his position as the Normandy’s pilot, and a few years before Joker would call her a friend again, but eventually he did.

He never forgot EDI. Shepard gifted him the miniature EDI Tali had given to her when Joker agreed to come back on as pilot, and Joker kept it in the cockpit at his side. When no one was around, he would press the button on her back and listen to her voice. Somewhere along the way, this act stopped breaking his heart, and instead made him smile and remember.

Eventually, Joker found love again, in the new shuttle pilot that replaced Steve Cortez. Witty and daring, Stella Holbrooke was more than a match for Joker both in personality and flying talent, and gradually, she helped heal his broken heart. They got married, and chose to remain child-free as they stayed faithfully on with the Normandy as she continued to traverse the skies, piloting side by side.

The reason Cortez left the Normandy in the first place, allowing Stella to join the crew, was because he too found love again, in the arms of Kaidan Alenko. The two men married a few years after the Reapers were defeated, and took jobs in the Alliance that allowed them to stay on Earth. They ended up adopting an orphaned human child and living out their days quietly, however they always stayed in touch with the former Normandy crew and with Shepard, who was very happy for them.

Traynor, however, decided that ship life was for her. She was no longer content to sit in labs, and instead wanted more experience in the field. She remained on the Normandy and served faithfully. She ended up finding love in one of the very gay bars Steve had offered to take her to, with another Alliance member- Private Gemma Aberdeen. The women were kept largely separate due to their careers; Gemma served on another fleet. However, they kept their long-distance relationship alive, and after years of dating, were married. Gemma was offered a position on the Normandy, and until their retirement from the Alliance, the couple stayed on and served together.

On the topic of the Normandy, there was one person who stayed even longer than Shepard herself, and that was James Vega. His request to be officially instituted as Normandy crew was approved by the Alliance (who were perhaps just a little pressured by Shepard,) and true to his word, he joined after his N7 training and became Shepard’s second-in-command. After she made the decision to retire from ship life, Shepard passed the ship on to James, and he assumed the helm of Commander. He served in the Alliance until the day he died; because of this, he never settled down, though he did have a son. His son followed in his father’s footsteps as an Alliance soldier once he was of age, making James very proud.

Not everyone could stay on the ship, however. Liara left the crew to continue her work as the Shadow Broker, though she remained in contact with her former crew members, and used her vast information network to help keep them all safe. She did end up writing a book about protheans with the help of Javik, and it was a huge and instant hit. The two went on a galaxy-wide book tour, and in that span of time and against their former conflict, they fell in love. They ended up marrying and having three children- in a way, the protheans were given a new chance at life. Javik never attempted to get Liara to leave her line of work, but she made that decision when she got pregnant for the first time. She faked her death as the Shadow Broker in one last dramatic and exciting move, before settling down and resuming her work as an archaeologist. With the help of Javik she was already a prothean expert, so she expanded her range of interest to other extinct races, and to the Reapers themselves. Javik contented himself with having gotten a second chance, and spent the rest of his life at Liara’s side, basking in her love and the curiosity of the “primitives'' about him.

Wrex and Grunt returned to Tuchanka and helped with the rebuilding efforts. Wrex stayed in power until he died of natural causes at a very old age, and in his time created a new and wonderful utopia for the krogan. With the help of his alien friends and his own work in the war, he secured new planets for the krogan, and his species boomed in population, both because of the eradication of the genophage and because of the serious work Wrex put in to improving life for all of the krogan. He had untold amounts of children, though his closest relationship was with his eldest son with Bakara, Mordin. Grunt was Wrex’s loyal right-hand man, and he assumed the role of leader when Wrex passed. He also had many children, and he continued on Wrex’s great work. Under the rule of these two, the korgan became as respected in the galaxy as they were feared, and they regained their spot in council space and affairs.

Tali returned to her people, and helped in the reconstruction process. She, like many of the other quarians, mourned the geth and their sacrifice, something she told Shepard she never thought she would do. After much discussion among the quarians, it was decided that the geth would not be revived. They did not want to repeat their mistakes, and they did not want the deaths of the geth to be somehow invalidated through their resurrection. Tali was key in arguing against the revival of the geth, and she marveled over the fact that her decision was based on her compassion for the geth, rather than her old hatred and fear. Instead, the geth were honored, and the quarians remembered them always for their help and sacrifice. Tali eventually got her house on Rannoch. She also found love there, with an ambitious turian architect named Janus who had come to help with the rebuilding of Tali’s homeworld (the fact that he was a turian surprised no one, given her rather obvious former crush on Garrus.) Janus moved to Rannoch after his work was complete, and he and Tali married. Biology was just compatible enough that the two managed to have a turian-quarian hybrid baby, and they lived happily on the quarian homeworld together as a family.

Miranda finally was able to build a relationship with her sister Oriana, now that the threat of their father was gone. She traveled the galaxy doing all sorts of exciting things, but always made time to come back and see her beloved sister. Unfortunately, because of Miranda’s extensive genetic modification, she was unable to ever have children of her own, something she wanted desperately. To fill this void, she threw herself into her work. She never married, but did end up adopting a human child of her own in her later years, and proved a doting, loving mother.

Jacob didn’t get to propose to Brynn under the cherry blossoms of the Citadel because of its destruction in the war, but he managed to propose shortly after their daughter Carrie turned one in a way that was more than satisfactory for both parties. Jacob chose to rejoin the Alliance, and Brynn also joined. They were stationed together at an Alliance lab and lived a relatively happy and peaceful life, having a whopping five children together total. Despite his worries, Jacob proved to be an excellent father.

Samara resumed her work as a justicar, though she allowed herself more time to visit her only surviving daughter, Falere, at the monastery. With Samara’s help, the monastery was rebuilt and Falere became the head of the new generation of Ardat-Yakshi sent to live there. When not with her daughter, Samara continued to grow her renown through various missions, some of which were with Shepard; Samara kept her promise to her old friend and was always there when Shepard needed her. She never fell back in love or produced more children, and she died an old justicar, upholding the code that she so respected and followed.

Jack continued to teach at Grissom Academy, and achieved great success there with her students. At Shepard’s urging, she began therapy and gradually began the healing process from her traumatic childhood. When not teaching, she helped root out remaining Cerberus cells, and was a fierce and outspoken protector of biotically-gifted children. She never had children or married, but she was never lonely either. Between those who came and went from her love life, her students, and her friends from the Normandy, Jack finally found a place to settle and feel loved and safe.

Kasumi continued her work as a thief; although Shepard never heard about it directly, she knew when she heard of grand heists that had gone unsolved, that Kasumi was likely involved. Kasumi continued her life in the shadows until her death. She never moved on from Keiji, and when she died, she was found clutching his gray box. Plenty of thieves followed Kasumi, but not one ever surpassed her.

Zaeed for the most part retired. He still killed when the need arose and still took odd jobs here and there when they caught his eye or he needed the extra money, but for the most part he enjoyed the rest of his life in the debauchery he so loved. He died unmarried with no acknowledged children, asleep on a beach in Illium, which suited him just fine.

As for Shepard and Garrus, their stories continued intertwined. The two married in a small and intimate ceremony with the support of all of their friends and Garrus’ family, his father having liked Shepard after all, despite Garrus’ predictions. When the Normandy finally left Earth, Shepard was once again at the helm, and Garrus was at her side. He was permitted to stay on the ship as the “official liaison” between the Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy.

Shepard for the most part enjoyed being Admiral. She liked the honor it entailed and being able to bring aboard anyone she pleased, however she wasn’t as crazy about the responsibility and the decreased amount of time she was able to spend actively on missions herself. Still, she was happy with her position in life, and she performed as well an Admiral as she had a Commander.

In her recovery, Shepard regained most of her old functioning, though she was left with a slight limp and new facial scarring. It was a small price to pay in her eyes, however, for the third chance at life she had been given. She knew that she was lucky, and she had no intention of wasting this go-around. That was why, after five more years at the Normandy helm, Shepard stepped down. Much as she loved being in the Alliance, she was ready for the next part of her life. She remained an Admiral, but moved to a more administrative position in the Alliance. Garrus became an important member of the Hierarchy by continuing his work as the go-between for the Hierarchy and the human race, and the two settled on Earth. Shepard missed ship life, and leaving hadn’t been an easy decision to make, but it was still the right one. Life goes on, you’ll recall, whether we are ready for it or not.

The next part of their life, and part of their settling down, was becoming parents. Biology would not cooperate for the two, as Shepard had predicted, so the couple adopted. No krogan children became Shepard-Vakarians, despite what Garrus had said. After the Genophage, no krogan was willing to let a child go into alien hands. Instead, they adopted a human baby boy they named David Thane Shepard-Vakarian, and a turian baby girl they named Soleira EDI Shepard-Vakarian. The two were adopted at the same time and raised as twins, and the little family became quite famous; Shepard and Garrus’ relationship and their children were touted all over the galaxy as paragons of inter-species love and family.

Over all the years, the couple kept in touch with their former crew, who had become both friends and family. Every year, they made a point to get together, and once spouses and children were included, the parties got quite large. Nevertheless, they all kept in contact. They may have all gone their separate ways, but they refused to forget their Normandy family.

As for Shepard and Garrus, the two proved to be the kind of couple who only fell more in love as time went on. There were ups and downs- there always are- but for the most part the two lived very happy lives together. As they always had, they watched each other’s backs, explored the galaxy, and did what they could to make it a better place, even if only slightly.

Because of their efforts, the galaxy enjoyed a peace and safety it had never had before. Their friends and their children could live, could have that opportunity so many had been denied. And because of their love? Cliche as it sounds, because of their love, Shepard and Garrus lived happily ever after, together.

~The End...Once and For All~

4 notes · View notes

dabbledrabbleprose · 5 years

Text

Whumptober Day 14 - Tear-Stained

Continued from HERE

The child looked up at her, tears making trails across her dirty, grubby cheeks.

“We’re making her life better, right? We’re making all their lives better.”

“Of course we are. This will only be a temporary displacement.”

“They’ll all have housing? Better, beautiful, clean?”

“Suitable to their station, yes. We have to look at the larger picture, Satya. They are one small piece in the greater order.”

“And that is why the corporate office must be constructed first.”

“Exactly.”

“What will happen to this child?”

“She will be taken care of. We’re making the world a better place.”

*****

“I’m happy to have you here, Satya. This criminal is the same individual responsible for the chaos in Rio de Janeiro.”

Satya pulled herself out of her thoughts as Sanjay addressed her.

“You’ve come a long way. I think you deserve to have a say in his fate after all the hardship he caused you there. And if this meeting goes well, I may have another organization to introduce to you. A silent sponsor who has been assisting Vishkar.”

Satya was taken aback.

“A sponsor? You mean one of our investors?”

Sanjay gave her one of his small, calm smiles. “You could say that. We have a mutually beneficial relationship, and they also want to change the world.”

The door opened and the prisoner was dragged in. Satya was shocked to see that she recognized him.

“Lucio? The musician?” Satya asked.

“Musician, celebrity, and terrorist. He is responsible for the uprising in Brazil. He uses his fame and financial success to inspire rebellion wherever he goes.”

Satya bit her lip. This was different. This was…unexpected, and it made her uncomfortable. Her thumb rubbed small circles against the smooth, cool resin of her prosthetic hand. The tactile sensation was familiar and comforting, but it only helped a little. She wished Sanjay would have told her instead of just confronting her with Lucio in person like this. Then she could have had more time to mentally prepare for the change in worldview.

“And I’ll keep doing it, too!” Lucio shouted. “You Vishkar tyrants will never stop the people from rising up and taking their freedom!”

His hands were bound behind his back with hardlight cuffs and a security guard held him by either arm. Messy, disorderly dreadlocks hung around his shoulders and he wore only standard issue Vishkar slacks and long-sleeved shirt. They were ill-fitting, hanging too loose around his shoulders and knees, and he was barefoot. The skin around his right eye was darkened with a bruise. As Satya watched, a drop of blood fell from his nose and landed on his shirt, a drop of red ruining the crisp, clean white linin.

“Yes, yes. We know.” Sanjay said, and pulled up a holoscreen. “Lucio Correia dos Santos, you are charged with–”

“Charged? You can’t charge me with anything, you aren’t the police! You don’t have the authority of a government or a legal system!”

Sanjay continued as if Lucio hadn’t interrupted. “You are charged with trespassing, theft, disorderly conduct, espionage…”

Satya tuned Sanjay out as she focused on Lucio. Something was wrong. The evidence of what she saw before her did not add up with what she had been told. The intruder had been peacefully detained with sonic technology, Sanjay had told her. Then why did Lucio have a black eye and a bloody nose? She looked him over more carefully and her sharp eyes caught dried blood in his hair and a spot on his shoulder where blood was seeping through the white shirt. The guards also weren’t just securing him, he was leaning on them. He wasn’t putting any weight on his left foot.

“…and terrorism. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Sanjay…” Satya asked quietly before Lucio could reply. “…Why is he injured?”

Sanjay gave her a frown. “He resisted our attempts to detain him.”

“Resisted?!” Lucio’s voice cracked with incredulity. “You call laying handcuffed on the floor while your goons kick me around resisting?”

One of the security guards smirked and Satya shifted in her seat. She rubbed her synthetic hand more insistently.

“I don’t believe this!” Lucio raged. “Oh. Wait. I do believe this. You’re Vishkar.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Satya asked. “We bring order to chaos. We are making the world a better place! We were making Rio a better place, and you sabotaged it.”

Lucio laughed, a hard, bitter sound. “You call that ‘better?’ People restricted by curfews, being told what to do, what to eat, where to go, how to live? Literally exploiting the people as cheap labor? All in repayment for living in little white hardlight prisons cells and claiming they were our homes.”

“A shame,” Sanjay said. “You could have had Utopia, and instead you stole Vishkar technology and created chaos.”

“It’s not stealing if it’s mine to begin with.”

Satya scoffed. “Yours? In what way is our sonic technology yours?”

Lucio’s dark face flushed and tears of fury ran down his cheeks. “You stole it from my father! He was a Vishkar employee and you stole it from him and then murdered him when he tried to stand up to you!”

Satya clutched her hands together under the table, skin on smooth resin.

“Is this true?” Satya looked at Sanjay with shock.

“Who are you going to believe? A known and proven criminal or myself?” His lips drew a hard line and his tone was harsh. “You know, Satya, I’m a little disappointed at your conduct. I thought you were ready for this.”

Satya averted her eyes, looking at her clasped hands instead.

“I think that we’ve heard enough. Congratulations, Lucio. You get to be more like your father than you ever realized. Take him away.”

Satya snapped her head up just in time to see the smirking guard’s grin widen into something cruel. The second guard looked bored, cold and distant.

“You monster!” Lucio jerked forward, but couldn’t break the grip of the guards and they started hauling him back to the doors.

Satya looked at Sanjay, a protest on her lips, but the merciless look in his eyes stopped her cold. Had he always looked like this? A smile on his lips and a soulless emptiness in his eyes?

The doors opened.

Lucio was going to die.

Satya burst into action. She leapt over the table and sprinted toward the guards. She knew she could not take them both in a physical fight, but she didn’t need to. With speed, surprise, and the strength of her prosthetic arm, she caught Lucio around the waist and used her momentum to keep going, pulling him out of the grip of both shocked guards. She couldn’t carry Lucio, but she could push him forward a good five feet before she spun around to face the guards. They both reached into their coats, doubles reaching for firearms, but Satya raised her hands and the hardlight generator in her prosthetic palm glowed. With a single sweep of her arms, a wall burst into existence, slicing through the hallway and blocking the path.

Satya turned to Lucio.

“Can you run?”

“No, I’m pretty sure my ankle is broken.”

“Then lean on me. Hurry! That won’t hold for long!”

Satya put an arm around Lucio’s waist and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Together, they limped for the nearest teleporter room. She focused on the feeling of Lucio’s lean, firm form against her, the smooth texture of the shirt cloth, the weight of his arm over her shoulders, the rhythm of step-step-limp-step to quickly and efficiently move without further exacerbating Lucio’s injury. She focused on anything that let her avoid thinking about the broader picture of what she was doing, what Sanjay would think, what this would mean for her career, her future, her existence.

The fact that her entire life had been in service of a lie.

No time to think about that now. Thinking would trigger a panic attack and there was no time. One foot in front of the other. Listen to the sound of Lucio’s sharp breathing. Left at the next hallway, into the teleporter room and–

Shrill alarms filled the air.

“Guess word’s out that we’re making a break for it. What’s the plan?”

“We are going to escape with a teleporter, but I need to reconfigure the coordinates to deposit us outside instead of at another Vishkar facility and then self-destruct so they cannot follow us.”

She dropped to one knee and began working frantically, making sense of the complex patterns and numbers in the hardlight equations and interworkings.

“There! Now we stand here and…”

The door burst in just in time for the pair to disappear in a burst of blue light. They reappeared in a city park, at least two miles away.

The sirens vanished in exchange for the sounds of a city slowly waking up, cars in the distance, birds in the trees. A breeze drifted through the air.

Lucio pumped a fist and cheered.

“That was amazing! The way you just burst out of there and–…Hey. Hey, are you okay?”

Satya dropped to her knees and clutched at herself. She let out a sob and fell apart, tears making trails down her cheeks.

There was no going back.

#Whumptober2019 #No.14 #Overwatch #Symmetra #Lucio #Satya Vaswani #Lucio Correia dos Santos #My Drabbles #1500 words

14 notes · View notes

ill-skillsgard · 5 years

Text

Bred For Blood - Part 4 - The Chrysalis

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ for mature themes, eventual smut, swearing, gore/violence, mentions of rape, slow burn, ridiculous AU character crossovers

Characters: AU Zeitgeist, AU Ivar Lothbrok and more AU Skarsgårds

Description: If they thought surviving Year Zero was bad enough, the rise of the Scavengers, Poachers, Bounty Hunters and the self-proclaimed Kings of Kinderfeld were sure to put their survival instincts to the ultimate test. A young Survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to the prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly yet plenteous forest. But what happens when she has to swear fealty between a hunter who means to protect her, a king whose promises are boundless or a brilliant scientist with a mind capable of preserving the human race?

A/N: I’m super happy that people have been liking this story. Thanks to everyone that takes time out of their days or nights to cast thine eyes upon my brain spit. You guys are fun and I like you. Reblogs/comments always treasured! Kisses!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

When all the ammunition was exhausted, the grenades unpinned and the more helpless Zeronauts retreated into their squalid shacks, the dust hardly had time to settle before Zed turned her pistol on Axel. The hunter looked over his shoulder to see if he had maybe missed one of the animals but saw nothing but dead bodies laying lifeless and bloodied in the dirt. It was then he realized that she was aiming the barrel of the gun right between his eyes. Axel lifted his hands, scoffing in disbelief as warm blood trailed down his temples to drip off his jaw. They were both panting, filthy and worn out from the carnage that they had unleashed on Zeronaut Village after they had emerged from the storehouse carrying all the weapons that the animals stowed away for safe keeping. The women and young ones that begged for mercy watched as the two strangers that had come into the village the night before laid waste to the monkeys, rabbits and plague doctors from bullet holes and cracks in their dented homes. "Zed... It's done. Put the gun down." "No! It's not fucking done! Shut your mouth!" Her voice shook but its volume did not recede. Axel turned toward her with his hands still up, a gesture of his surrender. He knew what this was about but he hadn't expected her to turn on him so quickly. He thought they would have at least driven away from the violated commune so they didn't draw more audience. Her anger was just reaching its peak and he suddenly became uncertain that she wouldn't blow him away. Not after seeing the level of savagery she had demonstrated when she had gunned down a dozen men in cartoon masks. "Zed, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm so beyond sorry! You don't even know—" "Shut up!" She yelled. "Can't you stop running your fucking mouth for one goddamn second? Why do you always have to fucking talk!?" Axel shrugged. "You going to kill me too, Zed? Is that what's going to happen?" She took another step closer to him and attempted to steady the gun in her trembling hand. "I have never wanted to slaughter somebody so badly in my entire life! All of this is your fault! I wish that you would have never saved me from those fucking Scavs! I would be dead right now and never had the misfortune of meeting somebody as vile and disgusting as you!" Axel's face adopted the same look of viciousness that hers did. "Hey! I saved your fucking ungrateful ass! Twice now! And this is how you wanna thank me!?" "Thank you? What the fuck do I have to thank you for? For leading me right into a trap? For letting these assholes look at my body?" "I did what I had to do to protect you! I had a fucking gun to my head! What was I supposed to do in that situation, Zed? You know I wouldn't have allowed anything to happen to you!" "There you go with the 'you know me' bullshit! No! I don't know you! All I know is that you're a vulgar piece of shit and I hate you!" "Good! Hate me all you want! You can despise me and curse me and call me any fucking name you want but the fact is, I fucking saved you and I didn't have to! I could have let those Scavs fuck you bloody! I could have left you stranded in the desert. I could have let those Looney Toon psychopaths eat you up! If I didn't have you with me, I'd be fucking home by now living like a goddamn king! But I'm putting my ass on the line to take you to a place where nobody will fuck with you again." Zed's arm began to shake more and she struggled to hold the gun still. The weight of it strained her sore muscles and the emotions that surged had finally drained her of her last dredges of energy. The adrenaline that had pumped through her veins made it difficult to breathe without wavering. After all was said and done, Axel was right, and she knew that, but her humiliation was so fresh that it felt like she was still without her clothes. Zed knew it wasn't what Axel intended to happen but his eyes had been on her as well and she could tell by the way he avoided looking at her that guilt was fizzing inside of him. "Why?" She whispered, lowering the gun before her arm gave out. "Why what?" "Why go through all of this? If you could have been living like a king right now, why did you bother with me?" Axel took a step toward her but she retreated immediately and he froze for a moment, lowered his hands and sighed. "I know it's probably hard for you to believe but when I see people like you being taken advantage of... It... It makes me crazy. I'm not a bad guy, Zed. I don't want to kill anyone and I especially don't want to see others being tortured and killed if I can do anything about it. I know you're tough and you can hold your own but you're not as ruthless as most of the fucks left on this dead, shit, dirt planet. Well..." Axel paused to look around at the destruction that they had equal parts in creating, the bodies already attracting flies. "Maybe you are now but... Goddamn it, Zed. I wasn't just going to leave you." "You're stupid," Zed mumbled. "Yeah, I am. So deal with it or don't. You can take the rover and leave if you want to. I won't stop you. Or, we can both get in and I'll take you to a place where you will always be safe and you never have to worry about anyone defiling you ever again." Zed tossed the gun down in the dirt and let out a long shaky breath. "Okay. Let's just go." "Yes, good! Let's get the fuck out of here already." She wiped her gritty forehead of the sweat that beaded on her skin. All she wanted was to lay down for a while and not worry about who was lurking around the corner waiting for her to shut her eyes. She had had enough of the villains she met at every stop of the unpredictable journey she had embarked on with Axel. As much as she hated him, there was no way she could murder him now. She owed Axel a debt and she would never say it out loud but it was there, hanging over her head like a thick rain cloud. They left the village with a significantly lower population and many more weapons and supplies than what they had arrived with. Axel was still bleeding from a deep cut in his head and Zed's muscles screamed in agony. She leaned back in her seat as they picked up speed and breathed in the hot noon air. Her pulse that had been pumping harshly in her ringing ears began to level out, the sun baking the sweat on their skin. Smeared with dirt, blood and tears, Axel began to laugh when he remembered that earlier that day he had taken a bath. Zed mustered a glance in his direction and chuckled to herself before closing her eyes, tipping her face to the sky like a battered sunflower trying to follow the light. The bloodbath that they had left behind played in Axel's head; a broken reel from another waking nightmare. Not a man to typically regret anything, he knew that the memory of today would live forever inside of him. Zed fell asleep almost as soon as they rode off and for that, he was grateful. She didn't deserve this. He shouldn't have stayed any longer in the supplanted commune surrounded by lunatics in masks. It was foolish of him to think he could trust anybody out in the desert. Zed had been right; it was all his fault. He strolled right into a giant rat trap and they were lucky to not have succumbed to the poison laid out for them. Flashes of Zed's shaking body choked him up while he drove. The grievous sight of her taking off of her clothes in the middle of that dingy warehouse with all of those venomous bloodshot eyes shooting holes into her made him grip the steering wheel harder. He was still sweating even though the wind had picked up and blew through his blood-crusted hair. If he hadn't concerned himself with hygiene they could have left unscathed. Or perhaps, he thought, the Zeronauts hadn't had any intentions on letting them leave at all. That was the very last time Axel would ever invest an iota of good faith in anybody. Glancing quickly at Zed, he wondered if he should be wary of her too. She had turned a gun on him, threatened to shoot right between his eyes and if he was having a moment of inner honesty, he feared that if he hadn't been so good at talking himself out of sticky situations, she may have left him dead in the dirt as well. Zed was just as capable of brutality as anyone and he had now witnessed it on more than one occasion. He hadn't met a woman in all of the miles he travelled through the desert that wouldn't hesitate to stab a man in his ear canal or reduce someone's head to a bowl of brain soup, and that scared him. Was this a trait she had picked up as a Survivor or was she merely adopting the behaviours she had been subjected to, he wondered. He was going to take a long break from headhunting once they arrived at Kinderfeld. Even if Ivar had contracts for him, Axel needed a vacation from all the violence and carnage. He wasn't lying when he told Zed that he didn't enjoy killing people, he had only realized early on that it was the easiest way to get what he needed in the godforsaken world that they had been left with. The bloodthirst of other men was the only surefire way for him to provide and protect himself and his brother. Never had Axel missed his brother as much as he did at that moment and the closer they got to the gates of Kinderfeld, the more excited he became to see the face of somebody that didn't completely resent him. Axel hoped that, with time, Zed might learn to forgive him and understand that what he did back in the warehouse was only meant to help them in their dire predicament. The betrayal that had flashed across her frightened face when he screamed at her to undress made his stomach twist so hard that he had to look over at her limp body in the passenger seat just to remember that it was all behind them now. Yes, he would be having nightmares for many weeks to come. The air started to smell sweeter and puffs of fluffy white clouds appeared in the bright sky. More patches of grass cropped up and that's when he knew that just over the ridge of the next hill, they would be able to look across and see the green border that separated Kinderfeld from the rest of the world. Axel poked Zed's arm but she did not stir. "Zed, wake up!" He called to her. Her eyelids peeled apart as she drew in a waking breath. He had eased up on the gas and coasted to a stop at the top of the grassy ridge so they could look out at the seemingly neverending sprawl of trees. From the flattened platform of the hill, the forest looked like a thick blanket of green mushrooms. A touch of mist veiled the furthest reaches of the land and Zed couldn't believe her eyes. She straightened in her seat, a grating mix of emotions turning her words to vapor on her tongue. "This is it?" She asked. Axel pointed ahead, "Can you see that dome over there? It's nestled right at the bottom of that elevation. See it?" Zed stood up so she could find what Axel was pointing out. Then she saw it glinting like a single nebulous opal in a sea of emeralds. It was just one of many structures, Axel explained to her but the biggest and most noticeable one. The dome that arced out from the viridian waves was the central power house of the entire city. Plated with solar-panels, it drank rays from the sun and converted it to pure energy to power the lights and luxuries that Zed hadn't experienced since the dawning of Year Zero. "I can't believe this," she whispered in awe. "I told you. That's just the tip of the iceberg. Wait until we get closer. You can't see even an eighth of the city from here." "And there are no spores?" Zed asked. Axel drew in a breath that trembled in his lungs. "There are in certain areas. Remember Betsy?" "How could I forget?" "They have farms for those bastards. I guess they want to study them... Gather information about them so they can work on developing a serum that will help people." "A new vaccination?" "Yeah. So that us Uns can survive in places where there are plants for more than a couple weeks." Zed lowered herself back into her seat and grimaced. She thought of her father then and wished that she hadn't abandoned her home as quickly as she had when the fleets flew in. For her entire life leading up to that point she had always had access to materials on Palynology. She could have been of some help if she had only chosen to follow in her father's footsteps or at least thought to rescue some of his research. "And that's what your brother does?" "Yes. Among many other things." "I can't wait to meet him." Axel sighed with a touch of a smile on his lips. "I can't wait to see him. It's been so long. I don't think I'll be leaving again for a while." "That's good," Zed nodded. "You should take a break from all this." "I want to. Now, hang tight. We're going in," Axel said as he lifted his mask up. "You're going to be okay to go in?" "Should be fine. Unless that shot we found wasn't bright blood. I guess we'll see." Zed swallowed hard. She wasn't sure if she could prepare herself for what she was about to see. Even with the teardrop scar on her arm, she had been conditioned for so long to think that green meant bad, and there they were, practically nose-diving into a limitless world of it. As they edged up to a clearing packed down with tire tracks, she held her breath. The shade of the forest canopy was cool and made her shiver. Axel slowed the rover to a crawl as the suspension wobbled and pitched over rocks, humps and broken tree branches. She could not believe her eyes when she looked up and saw the legions of mossy trunks towering up to the sky. All around the forest was matted with vegetation and she could not see anything besides what was directly in front of them. The path was wide and had been carved with two parallel indentations from the vehicles coming and going but they still couldn't see around a turn until they turned onto it. Zed shied from the waxy palms that reached out from the edges of the path to brush over her bare arm and shoulders as though greeting her with outstretched hands. The air tasted fresh and moist, much more soothing than the dry heat she was used to. She could feel her skin getting dewy from something other than sweat. From the ridge where they had parked for a moment to gaze over the land, the forest looked like a slice of paradise but once they were weaving through the felled logs and boulders bristling with tawny fungus, Zed thought it more treacherous than the desolated sands of the dry desert. She was still shaken from their fight and worried they would happen upon some new terrible inconvenience, another savage with a weapon poised to wound. "You have nothing to worry about, Zed. That teardrop on your arm is your all-access pass to the world," Axel remarked. "I know, it's just... You never stop fearing." "Don't I fucking know it," he replied before launching a string of white spit over his shoulder to catch on the spaded leaves of a rubber tree. "They obviously wanted you alive." Zed didn't care what anyone said about the vaccinations. Her father had told her to remain skeptical about everything she heard unless she could prove for herself without a fragment of a doubt that it was true and without a proper lab, she still had her doubts about the scar on her arm; the mark of the bright-blooded, the planet's mercy. The path straightened out and far ahead she saw the first glimpse of the Kinderfeld gates; two massive metal sliding barricades heavily guarded by uniformed men carrying guns vaguely resembling the acid-spitting rifle that Axel had. She tossed a worried glance at Axel and he nodded, acknowledging her nervousness so as to make her feel like her fears were warranted but unnecessary. "Don't worry. I have clearance," he claimed. They were halted ten yards from the gates and approached by two armed men wearing face masks similar to Axel's but theirs were dark red and fasted by two adjustable straps around the crown and base of the skull. They had on army-issued helmets and bulletproof vests. One of them hung back with his right index finger gracing a well-oiled trigger while the other one approached Axel's side of the rover with his gun pointed non-threateningly at the ground. "Well, well, well. Look at what the shitstorm blew in! The mighty Zee has returned home and with lots and lots of goodies for King Ivar." Axel shook his head in good humour. "It's mostly stuff for the labs. You really think me so indebted to Ivar?" "King Ivar," the other man corrected. The headhunter scoffed and jabbed his thumb in the direction of the soldier that had taken offence to the informal address. The guard next to Axel gestured for his partner to stand down. He backed off by one step but did not let his finger off the trigger. "This guy new?" Axel asked as he stuffed his hand into his pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes. "Second week on the job," the guard chuckled. "Ah," Axel nodded. "I'm Zeitgeist... One of King Ivar's liaisons. You'll get to know me, officer, if you haven't already heard of me." The guard that had corrected Axel's address grimaced even more and still showed no intention of yielding his glare. "I've heard of you." "And who might this be?" The friendlier guard looked Zed over. "This is a scientist I met on my travels. Her name is Zed. She's come with me to help Vee in the lab. No better Brightling brainiac for miles. Ivar will be happy to have her, I'm sure." "Sorry, Zee. You know the protocol. Can't let anybody in without clearance from the King." "Come on, man. I'm tired, concussed and I haven't been home in over a month. She's with me." "Don't worry, Zee, we have walky-talkies now. Shouldn't take too long to get you in." Axel sighed dramatically and leaned back in his seat as he searched himself for his lighter. The guard that had been fingering the trigger of his gun watched Axel and though his eyes were visored and his face mask was up, Zed could see that his mouth was set in a thin frown. "Bold-N-Bright, I got Zee at the gates and he has a woman with him. Says she's a scientist. Requesting clearance." Axel lit his cigarette and took two exaggerated puffs before blowing the smoke at the guard who had been showing them silent contempt. They waited to hear back from whoever was on the other end of the radio in strained silence. The guard looked disappointed after the radio call came back in to let them through, unhappy that he didn't get to point his gun at anyone's face, namely, Axel's. Zed looked at the bounty hunter smirking around the filter of his cigarette and thought that he had the kind of face that could piss off a lot of people with minimal effort. He was flippant, over-confident and the perfect target for trigger-happy gunmen itching to fire off some rounds after weeks of no action. It didn't help that Axel was still covered with dried flaky blood and blowing white smoke rings from his satisfied lips as though he were the most relaxed he had ever been in his life. She still hadn't forgiven him, not totally and her trust was non-existent but if what he said about Kinderfeld being a safe place turned out to be true, she would consider thanking him. Until she was certain that her life was not in danger, everything seemed a threat. But they opened the gates for them and stepped aside, clicking the safety hammers back on, a relieving sound to Zed. Axel took off the brake and gave a royal wave as they took slow passage after a button was pressed to open the metal gates. Zed looked to the left and right and saw nothing but shiny reflective walls mirroring the wild foliage of the forest. She peered into the entrance; a glass tunnel wrapped with vine clusters and leaves grown in the shape of the tall archway. Blades of sunlight shot through and the decadent fuchsia of wild orchids cast a warm glow on them as they crawled through the curving entrance. The light looked pink on Axel's pale skin but Zed's seemed to absorb the orange from the creamy plumerias overhead. They eased through a kaleidoscope of plush colours that she didn't know she had missed until they were twinkling in her eyes. Zed had grown so accustomed to monochromia and the glare of the desert that lush green and royal purple blooms were a treat for her eyes. She marvelled at the curved structure exploding with blooms and buds until they reached another set of metal doors that opened into a large cubic warehouse. It was home to all manner of vehicles; dirt bikes, dune buggies, four-wheeled rovers and one rusty battle tank that looked like it had been out of commission for years. The ceiling had wide open sky windows and the strip lights were wired into what Zed assumed was the same kind of solar panelling she had seen on the outside of the dome when they had stopped on the mountainside. "This is what I like to call the Valet. You have to leave your vehicles here. Even dirt bikes. Can't really bring these things into the place," Axel explained. They pulled into a spot to park that was sanctioned off by yellow paint on a smooth gray stone floor. The warehouse could have housed a few dozen full-sized vehicles but there wasn't much more than what she saw which made the vast space seem empty. But they weren't the only ones in the warehouse. There was a man strapping himself into a zippy little one -person dune buggy and gave Axel a nod as he tore out of the warehouse and exited through the way they had just come through. "Certain people can come and go but most choose to stay here. Ivar has the place at capacity and they stopped building structures eight months ago. The flow of people has been restricted." "So it's not a city?" "It's more like a village, really. A nice one. There are the housing blocks and then there are more common areas like the library and the courtyard. Don't get me wrong though, the courtyard is huge and that's where a lot of inner commerce happens. People with two-way clearance can come and go as they please, taking things out to trade or bringing in things that we need. It isn't overly difficult to get two-way but, as I said, most people choose to just stay when they get here." "And where does the King live?" "King Ivar spends most of his time in the Chrysalis." "The Chrysalis? Sounds... Ominous." "It's kind of beautiful. Weird... But beautiful," Axel chuckled with a hint of unease. "You might like it though. Ivar chooses to live how he wants. That's the beauty of it all, I guess. He's created this zen little commune but with power and a lot less sand than what you're used to. Fans and water distribution. It's pretty fucking ritzy by today's standards." "What about food?" "There's a couple of big greenhouses and a farm. Nothing excessive though. There's not a lot of animals being bred. It's not really as big of a priority as growing cruciferous vegetables and harvesting fruit and water." Zed gave Axel a brief smile and he smiled back. "See? I'm a forward-thinking guy too. I understand the importance of conservation. I'm not a total idiot." "I never said you were." "Oh, I'm pretty sure you have on multiple occasions now. But that's fine. We'll introduce you to Vee and hopefully... I mean... If you want, you can check out the lab or whatever. I saw you poking around at Glott's place. Might be something you'd be interested in pursuing. Then you won't have to see my nasty mug every damn day." Zed looked at the cement floor as they walked and thought hard about what Axel said. She had so many questions and she was anxious about meeting other people. Everyone that Axel had ever introduced her to had been a mad man and she didn't want to be in the presence of violent tendencies any longer. The closer they got to the exit the more she heard from beyond the warehouse walls; voices and many of them. She shied away from the guards with polished wooden bats and everyone else she saw as they made their way to the overhead door that had already been drawn up at the beginning of the day to allow entrance to the courtyard. The courtyard was a vast sphere made of checkerboard panel. One square of the board was clear and let in the light of midday and the next was metal. On the outside of the dome, the solar panels glinted. It was an elaborate, large-scale version of what she had been trying to accomplish with her plane. The glass panels let in the light throughout the day and at night the lights came on so people could freely wander in a labyrinth constructed of half spheres, safe from the brutal elements of what now grew in the forests. If the structures didn't exist, they would be embroiled in the thickest parts of treacherous land. That's what made it so amazing to Zed; it was in the middle of the place they were supposed to be avoided at all costs. Yet she walked across level ground made of poured cement and insulated walls that must have taken teams of trained workers to construct. "I don't understand. How is this place possible?" "It was built by Brightlings. Don't you ever wonder why certain people were immunized and most were not?" "That's just a conspiracy theory." "One that has been proven right to me time and time again. Every Brightling I've ever met has made me realize that they selected certain people to stay alive on this planet. Capable people... Smart people. Members of the population with gifts. Call it the honour roll." Zed remembered Axel's fake scar and said nothing. It couldn't have been true. If only people of a certain intelligence had received immunization that must have meant her parents had received the vaccine as well. She couldn't picture them alive though, as much as she wanted to. And if they were still alive, she had no idea where to begin looking for them. The lands subjected to the downpour had been taken back by the Earth, devastated by the outbreak of spores. Most places had become unrecognizable beneath the clutches of nature. Where once great cities stood now laid crushed husks of architectural memories crawling with vegetation and fungus. Her hometown would have been indistinguishable from the next. "Even though this place was built by your kind, I would say there's an equal amount of Brightlings to the Uns. Ivar doesn't believe in segregation of any race, gender or immunization record. As long as you can prove yourself to be a useful member of society, you're welcome here. Well... Not so much anymore. The only new people being brought in here unannounced are babies and I suppose guests of honour, like yourself." "So there is a hierarchy. You get special privileges that others don't?" "I'm trusted around here. Ivar knows my worth and we see eye-to-eye most of the time. I can do what I want just like he can do what he wants and she can do what she wants," Axel pointed at people occupying benches, laying on circles of blue, yellow and green crocheted blankets with fat pillows in heaps on the floor. There were some areas strewn with salvaged carpeting where small booths were set up for hair-braiding and grooming. Zed thought it odd to see a line of women sitting one in front of the other putting intricate braids into the hair of the woman that sat before the next. People seemed to wear what they wanted rather it be flowing silk sarongs, robes, dyed tunics, tank tops, pants, skirts, no shirts, tangerine and magenta sarees and many average article of clothing that may have been looted from somewhere far or near. They had what they had and that seemed like enough to them. There were wooden tables set up where Citizens served ruby liquid from jugs and ceramic pitchers. Axel pointed at a man and a woman doling out these cups of sloshing liquid to grateful patrons. "Those two grow strawberries and weed. They make juice out of both. They're always at celebrations." "What is celebrated here? I thought displays of religion were taboo." Axel sighed as they strolled through the center of the courtyard and around a white medical tent that had been erected for blood donation. "Everything and nothing at all gets celebrated here. I don't know... It's hard to explain. Sometimes one person could just be in a good mood and it's a call to arms. People play music and dance. Ivar has his own parties in his palace and sometimes he invites anyone that wants to come. Sometimes, he throws more private affairs." "Sounds suggestive." "It is," Axel pointed out. "Oh," said Zed. "Ivar is King of the hedonists. You'll understand soon. The Chrysalis is right through there," Axel pointed across the courtyard at an archway that was guarded by three men dressed in matching uniforms. They all carried the same kind of black clubs she had noticed the warehouse guards carried. The guards nodded their heads at Axel as they walked on by into another bending entrance. The hall was festooned with passion flowers that gazed down at them with exploding eyes of purple, vines draped over the clear tunnel in tangles and Blue Morpho butterflies flitting from blossom to blossom, kissing the petals as they passed their tiger-striped cousins. Running along the top of the tunnel were thin strings of twinkling lights that caught the verdigris and violets, refracting the rich colours of the forest onto the polished floor of the tunnel. "Wow. This is beautiful," Zed whispered. Her voice echoed down the hall as their footsteps proceeded them. Soon the shining lacquer of the floor was covered by intricately patterned oriental rugs and the temperature of the air grew balmy. A sweet, malty smell of vanilla and resinous wood filled their nostrils and Axel smiled as the memories of many nights spent on the cushioned floors of the Chrysalis resurfaced. Visions of toasted almond tarts, honeyed berries, fragrant herbal teas and so many topless women made him feel giddy to return to the epicurean comforts that cupped the hive of chambers in warm, temperate hands. Hands that stroked, nurtured and embellished with finery. There were no guards in Ivar's palace, only people that wished to get drunk off the vaporous pheromones that wafted through the swaying silk and satin drapes. A bone-white stone statue of an African woman stood in permanent melancholic tableau at the center of the chamber, her wrists bound in maroon silk that hung from gold hooks in the ceiling. Zed scoffed at the statue and clenched her fists against her hips. "What is that supposed to symbolize?" Axel rose his hands to her. "I didn't put her there!" Bowls of dried flowers had been set out and dozens of squat white candles burned around them. The floral perfume was hazy and stung Zed's nostrils. Couples and triples lounged together on feather-stuffed beds draped in velour and cashmere blankets. Her eyes and cheeks burned pink when she saw two women licking each other between the legs as a few watched in varying states of their own arousal. "Really?" She asked Axel shrugged his shoulders and moved Zed along passed tall silver candelabras coated with layers of black wax. Some of the pitting inside the curved walls were caverns of fat pillows and overstuffed slabs, hidden behind layers of sheer lace. Teardrop shaped skylights were carved into the plafond, illuminating the painted ceiling and showing off the masterful brush strokes that meticulously mapped out a scene of historical overindulgence. There was a horned man with hooves like a goat and a forked beard playing a tune on a wooden flute for three dancing girls; one draped in pink, one in blue and the other wrapped in golden yellow. Their breasts spilled out of their garments, leaking milk as they frolicked together in a dusky garden, drunk enchanted expressions of euphoria on chubby rose faces. Before the downpour, Zed had only seen auditoriums like the Chrysalis when she went to the opera with her mother and father. She remembered looking up and seeing the intricate spring of filigree and gilded cherubs dancing among mint flowers and soft blonde roses. Instead of an orchestra plucking and gliding their bows in a cacophony of melody there were guitar players gently strumming away with a woman's voice singing a hypnotic siren call. She caught the same dreamy feeling that she had felt in her chest on those nights she would dress in her best clothes to partake in an evening of musical lamentations. The heavy scents piqued her nose and she felt her temples begin to pound. Beyond the statue of the woman, there was a platform swathed in samite and mulberry taffeta. An incredible throne was staged on top of it and there lounged a powerfully built man with a frosty pair of half-lidded blue eyes, long russet braided hair and a quixotic smile on proportionate lips. When he smiled, a symmetrical shelf of white teeth flashed behind his lips and Zed could understand quickly the two women clinging to him were enamoured with his looks and by his presence. One of them gasped when she saw Axel and blushed, waving to him with a lazy flourish of her dainty fingers. "Zee! You've come home!" The man sang, happiness propelling his words through the air. "And you've brought a guest!" Axel curtsied to the amusement of the three bodies inhabiting the sprawling throne. The women were bandaged with thin, flowing material that clung to every last detail of their bodies and Ivar's hands ran up their thighs, ruching the fabric over oiled skin. "I didn't think I was going to come home this time, Ivar. It's good to see you." Ivar laced his fingers together in his lap and kicked his legs with excitement. "Your brother will surely be happy to hear that you've returned home. Hopefully, you choose to stay for longer? You look a little over-worked, my friend." "I plan on it," Axel languished. "I missed you guys." "We missed you, Zee," the girl on King Ivar's left said. Zed then felt the heaviness of Ivar's stare fall to her. The smile that seemed permanently affixed to his face tainted and he suddenly forgot about the two women at his sides. "And who is this mysterious desert flower?" "This is Zed—" "Ah, ah. Zee... Let the flower introduce herself," Ivar wagged his finger. "My name's Zed." "Zed? You too, with the abbreviations? What is your true name, darling?" "Azalea," Ivar gasped softly and swept his fingers along his own collarbone. "I knew you were a flower." Zed looked down at her mired clothes. "A dirty one." The King's eyes sparkled and he let out a laugh that aroused attention from across the chamber. "A dirty one! Oh... Zee... I like her. Where exactly did you come from, little flower?" "I lived in the desert." "And you're of bright blood?" Zed looked at Axel and he gave her a nod. "Yes. I am." "Well, you're late for the party. I'm honoured to have you in my kingdom. And what is this about your background in science?" "I'm really just a student of science. Biology and botany, mostly." "Just a student? Are you being modest?" Axel turned to face Zed as well. For the days that they had travelled together, she hadn't spoken much of her past. Granted, Axel never felt it right to ask but he had been curious. Now that she was volunteering the information he didn't feel guilty for listening. "I was on the road to becoming more than that but I didn't quite make it there. My father though... I learned a lot from him." "I'm sure a bright young thing such as yourself will fit in perfectly in the labs." "I'm taking her to meet Vee. I'm sure we can find her some accommodation?" Ivar grinned at her. "Of course. We'll find her a chamber of her own. Something with all of the amendments. I'm sure you two would like to wash up." Axel sniffed his armpits and the women on Ivar's throne giggled. "I could probably stand a shower or two." "You will have to tell me more of your journey, Zee. We'll have a proper celebration! And Azalea, you will be the guest of honour! Unless you're too weary? We could always celebrate tomorrow." Zed looked to Axel for something to say. The Chrysalis had robbed her of her attentiveness and all she wanted to do was lay down on one of the puffy mountains of embroidered pillows for a long nap. The hunter shrugged his shoulders. "What do you wanna do, Zed?" The choice was left to her and she felt the pressure of several gazes. "I'd... Love to celebrate. I'd also love a nap though." "Of course! The flower must close her petals for a spell so that she can emerge again more beautiful than ever," Ivar spoke with his hands and his eyes just as much as he did with his tongue. "All right, Romeo," Axel chuckled. "We'll be back tonight." "Come hungry and thirsty," Ivar said with a wink. Zed turned away only after Axel did and followed the hunter out of the mists of the Chrysalis, around the marble giant and through the rich mounds of fabrics and limbs. "Well... Ivar is quite the flirt." "Oh, he's like that with everybody. I swear if I had a pussy he would have already tried to fuck it." "He's pretty good-looking, Axel. I think you two would make a nice couple," Zed teased, feeling emboldened by the intoxication of Ivar's ambrosial hiding spot. "Enough with that Axel shit," the hunter snapped his fingers. "Oh, I'm going to call you whatever the fuck I want. After all we've been through together. You're going to be my bitch for a while." Axel tossed his head back in a hearty laugh. "Oh yeah? You think that's how this is going to work? No. Soon as I can, I'm dumping your ass on Vee. You can be his pain in the ass now." "I'm not going to be passed around like one of those... Those—" "You can say it." "Those hoes," Zed tittered. "You don't have to be. Vee is very professional and Ivar... Well, I can't really protect you from him. Only you can do that. Luckily he's all about consent." "Are you sure? Those girls looked drugged out of their minds." "Willingly out of their minds. Ivar won't pursue you unless you give him the green light. Word of advice... If you don't want to become one of his sex slaves, don't take drugs with him." Zed scoffed as they made their way through the courtyard toward another more plain entrance than the flowery tunnels they had been weaving through. "What do you mean?" "If you decide to do MDMA with the King... Well... You know what happens in those situations." "I don't. Not really." "Have you never done drugs before?" "I smoked pot in university," Zed shrugged. "Never been to the club on some Molly?" "No. When you grow up with scientists for parents you get the idea of taking unknown chemical compounds beaten out of you." "I guess so," Axel said. "Don't worry, Lea. You don't have to do anything that you don't want to do anymore. Kinderfeld is all about respect. We might do things a little differently here but you're free to make your own decisions. Ivar won't enslave you or anything. I trust him. He's a decent leader. A good man." "I think you do have a little crush on him, Axe!" "And you don't?"

@dreamtherapy @reinamysterio @skarswhat @mightbelindsey @sexual-rendezvous-blog @billskarsgardx @longlivethelosersclub @meeowbbyx @michaeliskindahot @mycrimsonsparrow @tigers-pat @rainbowmoosie @tinygayfungi @pancake-blonde @bskarsgardlove92 @sarah2057 @ohcaptains @jamierdr @loveforbillskasgard @jadelynlace @vikingsmania @artanakin @billdreamy69 @lordeofther1ngs @imlostinparadisecity @theredheadsbookcorner @1-800-imagines @readsalot73 @nicolehoran-maybe @weirdlilwitch @vladsgirl @enchantedreadersworld @allkundsofwrong @loey-bae @bill-istvan @army-crawl-andersen @ohtheangst @beyond-the-ashes @whoplansthese @evaolii @frappylou @alylanaeblack @creepshowzombae @billullabies @bohemianfortunes @moondustmemories @slinksterbill @terry2227 @ivarlcthbrok @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @iamblvnknes

(If you would like to be tagged or have your tag removed, please let me know!)

#axel cluney fanfiction #zeitgeist fanfiction #bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #alex høgh andersen fanfiction #alex hogh andersen fanfiction #ivar the boneless fanfiction #valter skarsgard fanfiction

62 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 6 years

Text

Connor Kenway x Angel!Fem!Reader

At the beginning of times,God created Heaven,and with it,his most trusty Archangels,with the aim of helping him pursue utopia and bliss for the incoming races on his beloved Earth,and thus,these divine winged beings,with the righteous will and judgement,obeyed their Lord's every command,without questioning it.

Centuries passed,humanity fell out of its grace,but He was merciful and loving,and offered them a change of redemption,in the after-life,and with every pure-hearted believer who would pass away,a new bright soul would ascend to the Garden of Heavens,be judged,and so they were entrusted with the smaller tasks,being named Angels.

These obedient followers with never-ending energy all seemed to fall into the same pattern,until one faithful day,when one surprisingly stood out of the crowd for being...different. Instead of minding her own business,perfecting her abilities in hopes of going up in ranks,as was the others' ambition,she wanted to do something more,something that would actually bring her joy is such a dull place bound by unbreakable laws,so she decided to perfect her art of manipulation of the weak or the soft-spoken,or even better,jest about unspeakable acts worth censoring in such a conservative place.

God,seeing her behaviour,decided to both teach her a lesson and grant her the wish,and thus,she was reincarnated in the Medieval times,as a fire-kissed maiden with loving yet difficult parents,at a court where she was meant to become the Handmaiden of the Castle's little lady. The girl was not satisfied with only an ordinary mortal life and started acting on her own accord,studying how to become a Maester,wanting to travel the world and see all that Earth has to offer.

Years passed and our little lady became a grown woman,at the ripe age of marriage,yet mischievous and ambitious beyond her times,and decided to inform her loved ones of her on-coming trip to the nearest kingdom,in pursue of knowledge,which wasn't well-seen.Nevertheless,there was nobody in power to stop the sly vixen as she began to walk the path of maturity.

Upon her return,her parents welcomed her warmly,but it was fleeting,as they had to have her know of the potential suitor awaiting her fateful return. She protested,not wanting to bother with such trivial and insignificant follies such as 'love' and 'family' and opposed to any explanation,turning the Fool down. Little did she know that day was her last day of human happiness,as a streak of misfortunes awaited her,for a wicked witch helped the Fool charm our Maiden with a love potion,the most powerful one to be created,and so the Minstrel had her grasped in his predator claws. She didn't seem to understand much of the situation,having had no previous experience with this concerning emotion,but decided to act as natural as possible,trying to make her paramour happy with everything in her power. All seemed to go well,for most of the part,until her day of birth came once again,and sticking to the tradition,invited all her friends,also servants to the House she was serving,and a newer apparition,her beloved. They drank ale,shared hilarious tales,sang with the bards and danced together,until dusk hit and they had to return home. The girl,once again,was happy...Until her one and only spun her around,yelling at her with malice,words dripping with venom and jealousy spewing from his filthy mouth,frightening and rooting her to the spot. Has she done something wrong?

Was there anything offensive in her behaviour?

Did she insult him,perchance?

Countless of questions seemed to rang through her head as she felt the symbol of weakness,a river of tears,streaming down her pale cheeks,whilst trembling and trying to come up with a reply to the monster in front of her. She left him there without anything spoken on her part,but a breakdown in her private chambers,as she tried to understand the reasoning behind such aggressive attitude towards her.

She believed that everyone deserved a second chance...and a third...and maybe even a fourth one,possible mistake learnt from Heavens,and forgiving the man,despite her mind telling her it was wrong,she stuck by his side for more moons than she could have ever imagined.

In the meantime,the glowing blood rose started to wilt at an alarming pace,faced with unneeded toxicity and bad treatment,and with it,she began hating herself more than ever before,understanding for the first time just how weak a woman is on Earth,compared to a lustful man's strength,and as she couldn't counter or stop his actions,despite protesting vehemently... She gave up.

For the first time in her life,she felt like giving up was the wisest option there was. Give up on fighting. Give up on protesting. Give up on happiness. Give up on thinking she was worth anything. Give up on believing love and genuine emotions exist. And... She gave up on herself.

Everything fell into the same dull pattern,until one day,she was slapped awake by her ambitions,and remember that even whilst hating herself,she still wanted her life to take a different turn and her career was still more important than anything on that tainted World. And so,the red-haired girl managed to gather the strength to break the charm all by herself,and got the Fool banished from the Kingdom,never to be seen again,much to her relief. Nevertheless,regrets and despair would forever haunt her,despising how frail and weak she was,uncharacteristic of her normal self,as she endured almost two full winters turned with a parasyte leeching on her positive energies,just as mistletoe,beautiful yet deadly,is destroying another plant for it to live better.

Not much time passed,wounds slowly getting stitched together with the help of her closest friends and family,and with that,a new trip was planned for her as a surprise,and she took the opportunity without any doubt,eager to absorb even more information.

The people around her were all open-minded,wise elders and shamans willing to show her the way of healing and how to become one with nature and accept herself. Contrary to her expectations,however,no matter what you do,curses and bad intentions follow everyone around,and when one of the travelers began fighting with his ill,miserable parents,wanting to stay behind and explore just a bit more,she decided to step in and offer him company on the small island,despite twilight threatening to appear soon. Feeling blessed,his parents thanked her endlessly,while the lovely elder witch doctor advised her not to stray too much from the path,and she went to his side,weary and skeptical,wanting to go to her temporary home faster.

It was just like how a panther waits its prey,prowling around,vulnerable and clueless of any evil intent around,using the environment to its,favour,and seeing her shivering due to the cold night,he wrapped his meaty arms around her small form,despite her protests. She soon found out the rotten apple was 10 years her senior and much stronger than he appeared,conflicts forming in her head,as she was not familiar with the path back,like he was,yet struggling in his grasp helped naught. And she gave up fighting. Again.

Hours passed,midnight stroke and Mother Moon was high on the sky,illuminating the place gracefully with her pure,silvery light,watching over the sinful,as on their way back,he gripped her noodle-like arms hard and forced himself onto her,the feeling of teeth smashing into her own and the disgust,making her want to have a star fall on her at that moment and crush her to death forever. No amount of struggle proved to be successful,but she cried no more.She just followed behind,at a fast pace,wanting to arrive at her new chambers faster and bury herself under the ground,feeling a strong,burning feeling of hatred towards herself and that shameful monster claiming to be human. Alone,once again,she began breaking down,yelling at Heavens and at the Lord to take her back or stop her suffering once and for all. Just what had she done so wrong in her life that she deserved all of this? Was her behaviour in Eden so bad? Was entertainment forbidden and punished like the Never-ending 7 Circles of Hell? Desperation was clouding her mind and judgement,and she soon accepted that she was not meant for a normal human life. Being forever by herself seemed to be a much better option regardless,and thus,a life of solitude and eternal hate awaited her. She began behaving worse than she realized,not talking to her friends that much anymore,not bothering with her difficult family who seemed to only want to apply even more unwanted pressure about how she is going to be the outcast and the laughingstock of the whole Country and she wouldn't behave like a normal woman,marry and bare the lordling's children,as it was expected.

She wanted to end it all,for it was too much pain to hold on to,her heart feeling heavy with over-flowing waves of torment,her lungs felt drowned,no amount of breathing seemed to make her feel alive anymore and she began wondering how lovely death seemed now,that all hope was lost for an unsightly creature like her. If she couldn't accept herself,why would anyone else bother with her eternal damnation and suffer along-side her,carrying her problems? Nobody deserves such a pitiful fate,so better end it all before any more misfortune starts stalking her.

For the rest of the year she kept her stoic facade,devoid of any emotion or compassion,only allowing herself to crumble the sturdy walls around her when alone,with only the shadows threatening to consume her.

~But miracles do actually happen,even to the less fortune of souls~

Seeing how much sadness he brought to the one pure soul he created,now tainted by Humanity's malice,He felt pity,and allowed a private parley between them. She would be able to became and angel and join the ranks once again,if only she can successfully finish a mission,one that required guiding another unfortunate soul to the light,one from a modern time of War between states.

The first step,now that she was back to her celestial self,was to observe the person and see if he truly was worthy of redemption. Flying on a cloud,she propped herself comfortable,at the first hour of the day,before the Sun even got the chance appear on the sky,watching the Native American’s life and memories,and with it,the familiar feeling of sorrow settled itself into her heart,and looking down at him,she was shocked to see him kneeling on the ground,his head on the ground,sobbing and cursing at the wind for his bad luck,yet praying with all his might to any existing deity that might give him a sign to keep on going...a reason to live. His mother dead,his father killed by himself,his mentor having died,and his many loved ones,away... Maybe,just maybe,despite everything he had lost,even himself....mayhap there is still something worth fighting for.

She remained stunned,gazing at him with pity,her dark eyes,like the infinite void,sparkling with interest and other unknown emotions towards this complete stranger ; he looked up,his kind chocolate eyes glistening with tears of hopelessness,until he widened his orbs,and much to her surprise,his gaze bore into hers.

So much time she spent observing him from up there,that she didn't realize the sunshine was bright enough to make her glow,having her position discovered. Scared,she fled back to Heaven,and contemplated her next move. Frankly,she wanted nothing to do with that pitiful assassin,for he too was in the same desperate situation she was in... On the other hand,however,there was something that made her think of him with no end.

The look in his dark eyes that held warmth,like when you go home after a cold winter night.They are hazelnuts and gingerbread men,hot cocoa and cinnamon,they are the comfort and warmth when you wrap yourself in a blanket and stay reading in front of a fireplace,drinking a hot beverage with extra honey,and outside it's freezing and snowing.

His eyes...The dark coloured eyes that she held herself as well,and she despised,she fell in love with.

His eyes...The one colour she hated most,and wished for any other one,she found genuinely mesmerizing and enchanting.

His eyes...So deep and caring,carrying a heavy burden of sorrow and pain.

His eyes...The ones she grew to love with all her heart.

His eyes...Him...The pitiful knight is shining armour that stood there,still hoping and searching for happiness,not having given up yet. He was strong,stronger than anyone she had ever met,either in her angel or human form,and she felt genuinely attracted,without wanting to. In truth,she was scared. Scared of what might happen if she lost him. She wanted nothing more than to make sure he did not suffer the same fate she did,made sure to use the small amount of magic she held,to make him smile for the first time in ages. Be it a lovely playful kitten,or a travelling crystal butterfly,a picturesque sunshine or a magnificent flower,she did it all for him.

That is,until one Archangel began to notice and expressed his displeasure towards her ridiculous behaviour,which only seemed to irk her to the point where she walked up to God himself,to request one last wish,before she would disappear.It was rather selfish and uncertain,but the Lord only smiled down at his little angel,patted her head and sent her down on Earth at the next sunrise,descending to Earth with a divine and elegant glow that would put even Mother Moon to shame.

In front of her,kneeling and staring up at her in wonder,he tried to make words come out of his mouth,but his chipped lips only seemed to form stutters,as he bit on the lower one,trying to stop himself from letting more tears stream down his chocolate-coloured cheeks.

She remained silent,knowing words would betray her,and smiled gently at him,touching his rough face with her pale,delicate hand,and seeing him lean into her warm touch with such glee in his eyes,much like a pitiful puppy who found a new owner,made her look away,suddenly feeling timid and a rosy blush threatening to cover her angelic features. She knelt to his level,her white wings fluttering,and putting her hands together,she made a small snowdrop form,letting him witness the beauty of nature by letting him have it,as a sign of purity and innocence.

Touched to tears by her kind gestures,he felt himself hug her tightly to his chest,not wanting to let her go anymore. He finally found the sign he was looking for and he was willing to brave anything is his path to make sure his Angel remained by his side,happy. He started planting soft kisses all over hear rosy face,forehead and fire-kissed hair,her angelic giggles becoming lullabies to his ears. His own face became redder than any Red Lily he had ever encountered thus far,and seeing this,she felt herself grin at him and kissed his forehead,as he kept radiating with happiness.

"I choose to throw away my immortality and powers,strip away my wings and ranks,only to be by your side,for as long as Earth will have us.Will you accept me,my darling brave warrior of justice?" she said with a playful grin and she cupped his mesmerised face,that held only love and wonder. "I can only thank Thee,Mother Moon,for sending your most beautiful and compassionate of daughters down here,to me.I vow to protect you,my sweet Cherokee rose,with every fiber of my being,no matter what dangers might occur." Connor vowed,placing his own hands over hers and gazing into her shiny eyes,overflowing with emotion. "Then,my sweet assassin,protector of righteousness,prithee,take care of me and teach me what love is,for I have faced so many misfortunes,I lost count,and let us seal this promise with a kiss" saying that,she looked down,allowing herself a moment of timidness,then leaned in,placing her lips over his,kissing him softly,as she felt his hands shaking just the littlest bit,getting the courage to reciprocate just as gently,almost afraid to break her,as if she was just a lovely mirage and he was actually on the verge of dying.

"I am yours,and you are mine,I swear it by any Gods existing on this World,and I never intend to let go of my beautiful butterfly.Thou art the greatest gift humanity could ever receive." managing to smile,bright and genuine,for the first time in his life,he kissed the firey girl,watching her immaculate white wings slowly dissipate into thin air,then embraced her,playing with her hair,kissing it,vowing to himself to become a better man and make her the happiest person walking the Earth. And so what seemed to be the tragic story of two different people from two parallel worlds proved to be the emotional reunion of two soulmates looking for each other,and only seeing the black,white and greys of life,until discovering the light at the end of the tunnel,and with it,a vivid palette of unlimited colours.

#Assassin's Creed #assassins #creed #connor kenway #connor #kenway #Ratonhnhaké:ton #love #story #angel #AU #medieval #times #imagine #assassins creed imagine #tragic #fluff #angst #angel au

32 notes · View notes

language-rxgers · 6 years

Text

Best Boyfriend You’ve Never Had (Bucky x Reader)- Part 9

Summary: The wedding day is finally here! You and Bucky share a moment which doesn’t end up meaning what you hoped it would.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Reader, OFC Catherine, OMC Thomas, OMC Jesse, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, OMC Ryan

Warnings: Slight angst, self-deprecating thoughts

Word Count: 2382

A/N: I am so sorry for the wait, but here it is! This is a kind of build up chapter for the angst coming up ahead! Thank you for your patience, lovelies!

Masterlist

Part 8 (Previous) / Part 10

You adjusted your dress nervously before looping your arm through that of Jesse, Thomas’ younger brother and one of the groomsmen. He gave you a nod and a smile, which you returned. “You look beautiful, (Y/N),” Jesse commented. “Buckaroo won’t be able to take his eyes off of you the whole ceremony.” Your cheeks grew warm and you thanked him quietly. Your fingers shifted nervously around the bouquet you were holding, waiting for the music to start. You looked over your shoulder at Catherine, who was absolutely gorgeous as she stood behind the bridal party, arm in arm with your parents and positively beaming under her veil. You winked at her and turned back around to look through the doors ahead of you, trying to find Bucky amongst the waiting guests. Your eyes finally fell on a head of long dark locks of hair, gently swept over a set of broad shoulders. Just seeing him settled you a little, and you took a deep breath.

(don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip-)

Your repeated mantra was cut off as the delicate harp began playing softly, cueing the bridal party to begin its trek down the center aisle of the church. Your sister had found a harpist to play at the ceremony, which you’d at first laughed at as being extra, but now as you walked steadily down the burgundy carpet to the front of the church, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect instrument to serenade your sister’s big day. As you passed Bucky’s pew, his steel blue eyes met your own with a gentle yet complete sincerity. His expression softened as he saw you, and you gave him a small smile before continuing on.

The ceremony, however long, was lovely. As your sister exchanged her vows with the love of her life, you met Bucky’s eyes once more from where you were standing with the other bridesmaids behind Catherine. He made a goofy face, and you rolled your eyes, smiling and shaking your head. “Meatball,” you mouthed to him, and he laughed silently, bowing his head low to hide his contagious smile. He looked back up and winked at you, and you averted your gaze back to your sister to hide the flustered heat rising in your cheeks.

After your sister and Thomas signed their marriage license and returned to their position in front of the altar, the priest smiled warmly. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” You began to clap along with the rest of the guests as Catherine placed her left hand on her husband’s cheek, her wedding ring glinting in the soft daylight rays filtering through the church’s windows as they met in their first kiss as husband and wife. Thomas placed his hands around her back, holding her tightly to him, and you felt your chest constrict at the sudden burst of want for Bucky to hold you as dearly as Thomas held your sister. You bit your lip and forced a proud smile to spread across your cheeks. You watched as the very thing you wanted most, happen before your very eyes for another couple, and you scolded yourself for being so selfish. How could you have the audacity to watch the happiest day of your sister’s life with such envy? Such a pure, blindingly opaque need for it to be you standing there in that beautiful white dress, for it to be Bucky holding you to him so dearly, as if he was incapable of letting go, for it to be the two of you living out your happily ever after. You briefly shut your eyes in shame before collecting yourself and forcing out an excited laugh for the happy couple.

As Catherine and Thomas walked down the aisle past the cheering and applauding crowd, you quietly followed suit with the rest of the bridal party. You cleared your throat and grinned so hard it was nearly painful. You walked past Bucky, who was standing facing the aisle and clapping, looking so goddamn perfect that it nearly snapped you entirely out of this ridiculous utopia you’d created in your head. How the hell could you have seriously thought you would ever get your happily ever after with him? Magic may be real, but you weren’t that lucky. It was almost childish to even believe it was a possibility that you might have a place reserved in Bucky’s own happily ever after.

Jesus, all this talk about fairy tale endings and true love had you sick to your stomach. Was this love? You’d been trained on the belief that love was for children, that happily ever after was a bedtime story told to protect little girls from the horrors that real life had in store for them. Were you really so naïve that you still thought it was real?

(get a grip, (y/n), you’re not that special)

Happy endings are for people most deserving of them, and you weren’t even an ink blot on that list, not when Bucky was at the top.

You hadn’t even realized you were outside of the church until you felt a warm hand fall on your shoulder. You quickly brightened up your expression and turned to meet clear icy blue eyes and dark eyebrows furrowed together in concern. “Hey, you okay? Catherine and Thomas are over there greeting guests.” He nodded to the crowd behind him. You blinked.

“Oh, right. Uh, yeah, I was just wanting to, um, call Nat and let her know everything went well. She’s always a cynic about weddings; watches too many drama shows and thinks every wedding ends with someone being left at the altar… and whatnot…” Bucky chuckled.

“Yeah, sounds like her. You want me to stay with you?” You shook your head, smiling plainly. “Alright, then tell ‘er I say hi, yeah? I’ll just be over there,” he hooked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the entrance of the church a few feet away. You nodded and pulled your phone out of the pocket in your dress, hidden among the flowing chiffon fabric. You dialed Nat’s number. She answered on the second ring.

“(Y/N), what’s up?” Nat answered.

“Nat, hey, uh the wedding just finished, just wanted to let you know there were no runaways,” you said lamely. Nat gave a dismissive grunt.

“Ah, real weddings are so boring. But really, congratulations, that’s great.” She cleared her throat. “So, any progressive news with bolts-for-brains?” You had been calling her nearly every other night to update her on things with Bucky since you’d been in town.

“Ha, no Nat. You know, I think this was dumb, me thinking it was anything more. I mean, really, he was just being a good friend. I think I was just over analyzing things, but it’s fine. I’m not upset about it.”

Nat was quiet for a moment. “But, the way he was acting-“

“Exactly. Acting. This whole damn trip was an act, that was the point! I just let myself get in my own head, but I’m not gonna let it get any further, and I’m not gonna let it ruin the rest of the night. I’m just going to enjoy this wedding with my best friend-“

“Second best friend!” You heard Sam cut in. Was this on speaker?

“- and have a nice night. Hi Sam,” you added. “Is Wanda there too?”

“Yes, I’m here. (Y/N), you have to call us tomorrow to fill us in on the rest of the night, alright? And don’t dismiss Bucky’s feelings so soon, you never know what’s going on in his head. Just keep up with the ruse and see what happens tonight,” she said gently. You agreed, bidding goodbye to the trio before hanging up. You held the phone to your forehead, eyes closed as you got a hold of yourself. You took a deep breath.

(alright, (y/n), stop being so selfish. this is catie’s big day and you’re gonna be there for her. you’re a big girl, you can push aside your own problems for a night)

You nodded assuredly before turning swiftly on your heel and joining Bucky at the church entrance. “All’s good back there?” He asked. You nodded, giving him a quick smile. Bucky gave you a weird look. “You okay, (Y/N)? You seem a little…”

You shook your head. “No, I’m fine, just a little tired. All that standing, you know…” Bucky rolled his eyes teasingly.

“Ah yes, God knows how exhausting it is to stand.” He joked before going serious. “But really, we can stop by your folks’ place and you can take a nap if you need before the reception. It’s not for another few hours.” Your throat tightened at his concern, but you shook it off.

“No, I’m fine, just tired and need a pick-me-up. I’ve got a change of clothes in the car, wanna go for food and drinks at the bar down the street?”

Bucky gave you a fond smile. “Yeah, I’d love that.” He watched you as if thinking deeply before his eyes flashed over your shoulder, a tense and indiscernible expression flickering within the icy blue orbs. He then suddenly took a step towards you, leaning dangerously close to you. You could feel your face growing hot and you tried to take steady breaths to conceal how flustered you were becoming.

Bucky’s eyes flicked back over your shoulder again before returning to you, lips adorned with an admiring smile. “Just go with this,” he whispered, lips still turned up, his smile almost absent-minded.

“What?” Just looking at his smile made the corners of your own lips turn up in a like- if not confused- manner. The soldier’s eyes flickered up behind you once more and you began to turn to see just what the hell was so troubling to him. Bucky quickly “D-Don’t look, just, uh,” Bucky licked his lips nervously. “Just trust me, alright?” You nodded, and he took yet another step closer. His left hand slipped around your waist to rest on the small of your back while his left cupped just under your ear, then he leaned in, his soft lips brushing against yours. Your breath hitched in your throat at the blend of surprise and excitement that bubbled in your chest at the feel of Bucky’s lips against yours again. You hadn’t really kissed since the first night in your bedroom, really just light cheek pecks here and there in front of your family. However, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a flare of hope rise in your stomach every time Bucky came in to kiss you goodnight before going upstairs after late night visits with your sister and Thomas. Now that he was actually kissing you again, it all came back to you, just like that first night. The faint smell of his aftershave, the slightly dry yet soft texture of his lips moving against your own, his gentle breath fanning over your cheeks as he pulled back to rest his forehead on your own.

You bit your lip to hide your giddy smile. What did this mean? Why did he just kiss you? Was there a reason? Did he just feel like it? Was he just being really good at playing boyfriend? Did he mean it? Your mind was racing with rapid fire thoughts as you tried to calm your heart beat. Did he actually like you back? Was this his way of telling you? He usually only kissed you when there was someone around, someone to show that you were “together”, or whatever. But here, now, there was not a reason in your mind why he would ever need to kiss you for anything other than his own want. You felt your lips tug back in a grin. Maybe this was it? Maybe he was finally going to-

“Ryan was behind you, creep was starin’ after you like he still deserved you. Hope you didn’t mind.” Your heart plummeted thirty stories, dragging your stomach with it. You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, God, how could you think he actually liked you as something more than a friend?

(stop being so dramatic, (Y/N), this isn’t some goddamn movie)

“O-oh, right. Thanks, that probably scared him off…” you muttered, opening your eyes. You stepped back, pulling out of Bucky’s warm embrace. Your eyes searched for any excuse not to have to meet his gaze, and you found your saviour. Catherine caught your eye as you scanned past where the guests were greeting the happy couple and giving their well wishes. She grinned, waving you over with one hand as the other gripped Thomas’ firmly. You smiled back. “Uh, I should probably go say hi to Catie, see if she needs anything.” You finally met Bucky’s eyes again, giving him what you hoped was a light smile before walking off to meet your sister.

“(Y/N)...” Bucky muttered, turning around to watch after you as you left his side. As you walked, you missed the way he swallowed thickly, fingers hovering over his lips briefly before he ran a hand through his hair. “Idiot,” he whispered to himself, grimacing in frustration. Why did he say that? It wasn’t true; Ryan was nowhere to be seen, but in that moment, looking into your gorgeous eyes, Bucky couldn’t do a damn thing to stop himself from kissing you. The only premeditated reason he could think of to explain such an action was to scare off Ryan, and so he ran with it. But seeing the disappointment flicker in your previously shining eyes after he opened his big mouth brought him halting to a stop. Had you wanted to kiss him as much as he had you? Had you kissed him back on the assumption that he’d finally expressed his feelings for you, and you were returning them, or had you simply played along, believing it was part of your act? All he knew, as he watched your retreating form, was that he had seen your face slightly falter after his excuse, and now he was standing alone, wishing the only thing he’d said to you was what he’d expressed in that kiss.

Idiot.

Part 8 (Previous) / Part 10

A/N: Argh this is so freaking late I am so so sorry my sweet cinnamon rolls for the wait!!

Tags- let me know if you’d like to be added either to this story or to all my future updates! Requests are also very welcome!

@chaosinacoffeecup @satans-knitting-club @starkxpotts @bexboo616 @learisa @socialheartbreak @la-meneur-louve @burningbiatch @agentsinstorybrooke @colonel--sarge @farfromjustordinary @yo-yo-bro-bro @friendlyneighborhoodnazgul @loricameback @martabruiz @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @autijahnerd13s-blahg @irepeldirt @mcu-trash @hdthdthdt @superwholockian5ever @libbyjune24 @elliemarchetti @cinema212 @the-instrumental-mortal @crazy4thewinbros @palaiasaurus64 @winterboobaer

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes wedding au #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #Thor Odinson #tony stark #bruce banner #clint barton

330 notes · View notes

2whatcom-blog · 5 years

Text

Revolt in opposition to the Wealthy

In 2015 I attended a workshop on political polarization with an eclectic group of students and activists. We swapped concepts on resolving battles over local weather change, inequality, abortion and homosexual rights. One impediment to compromise, a psychologist stated, is that many Individuals have a visceral, emotional response to points like homosexuality. I've a visceral, emotion response to inequality, I replied. It sickens me that some Individuals have billions whereas others barely have sufficient to eat. An economist derided my perspective as typical left-wing irrationality. Inequality isn’t the issue, he stated, poverty is the issue, and we shouldn’t attempt to resolve it by taking extra from the wealthy. I felt chastened. However a flurry of latest articles—with headlines like “Abolish Billionaires” and “The Economics of Soaking the Wealthy”—argues that we needs to be appalled by the immense hole between the poor and wealthy. The proliferation of billionaires reveals that capitalism is malfunctioning and in want of reforms, together with greater taxes on the ultra-wealthy. One vocal billionaire-basher is Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, a newly elected Congresswoman from New York and self-identified democratic socialist. “I’m not saying that Invoice Gates or Warren Buffet are immoral,” she stated lately, “however a system that enables billionaires to exist when there are components of Alabama the place persons are nonetheless getting ringworm as a result of they don’t have entry to public well being is mistaken.” A report from the anti-poverty group Oxfam gives a worldwide, historic perspective on inequality. Most tax charges within the richest nations fell from a median of 62 % in 1970 to 38 % in 2013, and inequality has surged. The variety of billionaires has doubled over the previous decade to 2,208. The collective wealth of the 26 richest folks now equals that of the three.eight billion poorest, whose whole wealth fell final yr by 11 %. In brief, the wealthy are getting richer and the poor, at the very least these days, poorer. “We have to rework our economies to ship common well being, training and different public providers,” Oxfam states. “To make this doable, the richest folks and firms ought to pay their justifiable share of tax.” Ocasio-Cortez has proposed elevating the federal tax fee for ultra-wealthy Individuals to 70 %, nearly double the present most federal tax on revenue. The so-called marginal tax would apply to annual revenue above $10 million. Presidential candidates Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders have referred to as for greater taxes on belongings in addition to revenue of the ultra-rich. Paul Krugman, a Nobel laureate in economics, agrees on the necessity for such taxes. The 70-percent tax proposal of Ocasio-Cortez, he writes in his New York Occasions column, relies on analyses by economist Peter Diamond, a Nobel laureate, and Christina Romer, former head of President Obama’s Council of Financial Advisers. The analyses, Krugman explains, are primarily based on “the common sense notion that an additional greenback is value so much much less in satisfaction to folks with very excessive incomes than to these with low incomes. Give a household with an annual revenue of $20,000 an additional $1,000 and it'll make an enormous distinction to their lives. Give a man who makes $1 million an additional thousand and he’ll barely discover it.” That is the reasoning behind progressive tax charges, which rise together with revenue. Elevating tax charges too excessive may discourage some folks from being extra productive, leading to a web lack of tax income. Balancing these elements, Diamond and Romer advocate most marginal tax charges of 73 and 80 %, respectively. Krugman rejects the declare that prime taxes harm the economic system. Most tax charges reached 90 % within the late 1950s, and so they remained at 70 % as lately because the early 1980s earlier than plummeting in the course of the Reagan administration. The U.S. economic system “did simply nice” throughout these durations, Krugman says. “Since then tax charges have come approach down, and if something the economic system has achieved much less nicely.” One other Nobel-winning economist, Joseph Stiglitz, argues that inequality is socially corrosive. In “A Rigged Financial system,” revealed in Scientific American in November, Stiglitz notes that “economies with higher equality carry out higher, with greater development, higher common requirements of residing and higher stability. Inequality within the extremes noticed within the U.S. and within the method generated there truly damages the economic system.” Over the previous 4 a long time inequality in America “has reached new heights,” Stiglitz says. “Whereas the revenue share of the highest 0.1 % has greater than quadrupled and that of the highest 1 % has nearly doubled, that of the underside 90 % has declined.” The wealthiest Individuals “pay a smaller fraction of their revenue in taxes than those that are a lot poorer—a type of largesse that the Trump administration has simply worsened with the 2017 tax invoice.” Rising inequality results in a “vicious spiral,” Stiglitz contends, that subverts democracy. Financial inequality “interprets into political inequality, which ends up in guidelines that favor the rich, which in flip reinforces financial inequality.” Stiglitz recommends countering inequality with campaign-finance reform, cheaper training and, sure, greater taxes on the wealthy. In The Atlantic, economics author Derek Thompson rejects the declare that elevating taxes on the rich will stifle economy-fueling innovation. New York Metropolis and San Francisco, which have two of the very best income-tax charges within the U.S., are “hubs of innovation.” Nations with greater tax charges than the U.S. even have greater charges of entrepreneurship. Conservatives contend that entrepreneurs like Invoice Gates, Jeff Bezos, Steve Jobs and Elon Musk deserve their riches, as a result of they created merchandise that enhance our lives and spur financial development. The federal government, in distinction, wastes tax dollars. Really, economist Mariana Mazzucato factors out in Harvard Enterprise Evaluation, government-funded analysis underpins the fashionable tech increase. The Web and ”almost all of the applied sciences within the iPhone (together with GPS, Siri, and touchscreen)” stemmed from federal analysis, Mazzucato says. “And within the power sector, photo voltaic, nuclear, wind, and even shale gasoline had been primed by public finance. Elon Musk’s three corporations Photo voltaic Metropolis, Tesla, and House X have acquired over $4.9 billion in public help.” Making the case for greater taxes, New York Occasions tech columnist Farhad Manjoo writes that “expertise is making a world the place a number of billionaires management an unprecedented share of world wealth.” Excessive wealth “buys political energy, it silences dissent, it serves primarily to perpetuate ever-greater wealth, typically unrelated to any reciprocal social good.” Final month historian Rutger Bregman triggered a stir on the World Financial Discussion board in Davos when he accused wealthy contributors of avoiding greater taxes. Sure, some billionaires, notably Invoice Gates, have achieved good works with their wealth, Bregman acknowledges, however societies mustn't depend on the generosity of the wealthy. “Philanthropy isn't an alternative choice to democracy or correct taxation or a superb welfare state,” he says. Some wealthy folks agree. Enterprise capitalist Nick Hanauer contends in The Prospect that “taxing the wealthy is the one plan that will enhance funding, increase productiveness, develop the economic system, and create extra and higher jobs.” He dismisses the conservative declare that elevating taxes on the rich and firms will lower funding and enhance unemployment as a “con job.” “When President Invoice Clinton hiked taxes, the economic system boomed,” Hanauer states. “When President George W. Bush slashed taxes, the economic system finally collapsed.” Since Trump and his fellow Republicans reduce taxes in 2017, “company America has introduced greater than 140,000 job cuts… whereas sharing simply 9 % of its $76 billion tax windfall within the type of wage hikes and one-time bonuses.” I admire capitalism. Over the previous few centuries free-market forces have helped humanity escape millennia of crushing poverty, ignorance and early loss of life. Economist Deirdre McCloskey, whom I interviewed in 2016, calls this era, throughout which per-capita incomes surged by an element of 10, “the Nice Enrichment.” Wealth-distribution schemes like these proposed by economist Thomas Picketty usually tend to entice folks in poverty than raise them out of it, based on McCloskey. To assist my college students admire humanity’s progress, I assign them an essay by which McCloskey extols the Nice Enrichment. I present them charts, compiled by economist Max Roser, that monitor the surge in humanity’s well being and wealth. However as anthropologist Jason Hickel factors out, the Nice Enrichment encompassed slavery, colonization and the violent displacement of indigenous folks. Right this moment, greater than half of humanity nonetheless lives on $7.40/day or much less, barely enough for a good life. From this angle, Hickel says, the “grand story of progress appears tepid, mediocre, and--in a world that’s as fabulously wealthy as ours--completely obscene.” Neither I nor any of the critics cited above needs capitalism abolished. We merely need the rich to contribute their justifiable share. Many individuals have a visceral, emotional aversion to greater taxes on the wealthy, however that response, even for the wealthy, is irrational. Additional Studying: “A Fairly Good Utopia” (profile of Deirdre McCloskey in free on-line ebook Thoughts-Physique Issues) Is Nuclear Struggle the Solely Remedy for Inequality? Training Is not Serving to Individuals Overcome Deepening Inequality Pricey Occupy Wall Avenue: Learn Jeffrey Sachs! Pricey Rep. Ocasio-Cortez, Please Work to Finish Struggle Sure, Trump Is Scary, however Do not Lose Religion in Progress Noam Chomsky Calls Trump and Republican Allies "Criminally Insane" Read the full article

#inequality #Tax #taxes

0 notes

cressasdbfanfics · 7 years

Text

His Worst Fear

Here is part I of a requested 4-chapter fic I just finished. Story will get updated every Tuesday.

Blurb: Goku Black discovers how rage affects a Saiyan's power and works to push Son Goku to his limit, making Goku's worst nightmare reality.

Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12453430/1/His-Worst-Fear

Archive of Our Own: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10665318/chapters/23605779

Part I:

Motivations

The seven Super Dragon Balls belonging to an alternate timeline floated in the emptiness of space before me. The time had come to summon the mightiest of the Eternal Dragons.

I chanted in the sacred language of the Kai, "Come forth, Dragon of the Gods, and grant my wish pretty peas!"

In a great flash of light, the Eternal Dragon of the gods took form.

Also using our tongue, he demanded, "State your wish."

I smiled. "Please exchange Son Goku's body with mine!"

A brilliant light consumed me, warmth spreading through from my head to my extremeties, and then faded soon after, the warmth disappearing as well. When the light faded, hair black as night dropped into my eyes.

"It is done."

I touched my new face, tracing the strong, angular features and brushing my raven-black bangs out of my eyes. I smiled, delighting in the sheer power coursing through my veins.

The next step was to ensure the wish could never be undone.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the energy I sought and opened them a moment later under a bright, warm sun, the smells of the lovely green grass and of a nearby forest flooding my sensitive nose.

It was beautiful – or would be once cleansed of all humanity.

"G-Goku!? Is that… really you!? Why did this happen!?"

I winced at the female human's screechy voice, resisting the urge to clap my hands over my ears, learning my eyesight and olfaction weren't the only senses more acute in my new body.

"I don't know! But it's me, Chichi! I swear! It's me!"

I walked toward them. "You are now only Goku in heart to be exact."

It was… a little bit odd to see myself staring at me, the awareness of a mortal looking out through my eyes, but I shoved the thought aside. I held my hand out in front of me, enveloping it in energy and he grabbed his mate and the small human that bore quite a resemblance to my new body and pulled them both behind him, his eyes wide.

He didn't stand a chance against me. I knew that body's capabilities – I was strong for a Kai, but that was only a fraction compared to my new power – and he was aware of that fact.

I lunged and – amazed by my newfound speed – shoved my hand straight through him, his death near instant, life leaving his wide eyes, and he fell limp to the ground as the female human screamed his name.

Smirking, I lifted my gaze to his mate and child. She grabbed the small human and ran. I lunged for them. She tried to shield him and I almost laughed at her futile attempt as I annihilated them, leaving nothing left.

I left that world, that timeline, to its fate – knowing there would be no one to defend it against the wrath of the God of Destruction when he chose to show – and demanded the Time Ring take me to an alternate timeline. One I intended to cleanse.

The one I chose to enact my plan would be the easiest to purge for the simple reason that entities from many years back destroyed many humans already. The signs of the destruction around the globe present in abandoned villages with crumbling buildings and overgrown with weeds and the mass burial plots scattered around the land all indicated by single large headstones adorned with only numbers denoting the humans buried under it and several small shrines.

Continuing my lap around the Earth, it truly was a beautiful planet. Pristine forest, majestic mountain ranges, and green, rolling hills covered in patches of vibrant wildflowers gave way to the deep blue ocean, the pleasant, briny smell reaching my sensitive nose. If left in the care of man, the planet would surely die – one of many reasons my path was righteous.

After admiring nature untainted by the filth of humans, I began my mission. Razing each city went smoothly. The humans quickly began to fight back, but their feeble weaponry was no match for my vast power.

Several cities in, I met a slight hiccup in my plan. A small energy blast took me by surprise, striking my chest and exploding. When the air cleared, a lavender-haired human stood before me.

He took a confident step toward me. "Odd. You look just like someone I've heard many stories about and yet–" he glanced at the pile of rubble around him "–you couldn't be him. He'd never do this."

I smirked. "Ah! So you know of me. I am Son Goku."

He returned my smirk. "I don't buy that for a second."

In an explosion of brilliant golden energy, he lunged at me with unexpected, amazing speed and managed to land a right hook, bruising my cheekbone but I was ready for his follow-through – his right elbow aimed for my nose – and knocked his elbow wide with little effort, creating an opening, countering with my own attack – a jab to his face – which connected, sending him flying but he recovered. He charged me, his blows flying fast enough that his speed would have been challenging in my old body but not in my new one. His was a speed unattainable by humans.

I dodged, blocked, and countered each of the Saiyan's blows with ease. He was frustrated, but I was bored by our skirmish. I had work to do. I sent him smashing into a building with a hard blow to his stomach – feeling his ribs give way under the hit – and then fired a blast to finish him off.

Who was he to stand up to a deity? It was no matter. He merely met his fate a few moments sooner than the rest of the humans in that city.

Destroying that city was as easy as the rest and I moved on. It became clear to me that each city was no different, all wretched places full of yelling, bad-tempered mortals undeserving of the gift of life. With each city, my plan was more and more justified. I had a lot of work ahead of me but someone had to do it since it was clear the other Kais had no interest in righting their mistake.

On the longer flights between distant cities, my mind wandered back to one particular fight, recalling the power he used, the thrill of trading blows. He was the first mortal to display any kind of power. I almost regretted killing him.

My arms crossed, my flight halted a distance above a smattering of sparsely populated tropical islands and the blue-green water that surrounded them. His life was every bit as meaningless, even displaying a familiar dose of arrogance tied to his heritage. Mortals of any breed were all the same in their barbaric tendencies. Mortals with the power to stand up to deities deserved death more than any other.

I shook myself of my preposterous regret and continued toward a new target. Cities first. Then time to annihilate those with the mistaken assumption they were safe in their small, remote towns.

City after city met their ends, the thick black smoke billowing high into the atmosphere. With the first cities I destroyed still burning, smoke soon blanketed much of the region. Unsightly as it was, it was necessary. The burning wouldn't last forever. Once that ceased, the planet would heal and my utopia would finally come to fruition.

While performing my self-assigned task, one thought sat in the back of my mind, ever-present: the fight.

A few lunar cycles had gone by before I made a startling yet delightful discovery: He was alive and he challenged me again and again. Each time, my victory was effortless. That mortal wasn't Son Goku. He didn't possess the power of the gods. He was no match for me. Yet – surprising myself – I anticipated our matches.

Over time, I observed a shift in his behavior. The fights were less and less about defeating me and more and more about trying to draw me away from something. He carefully masked his energy with every defeat, disappearing into the rubble. With the acrid stench of fire burning everything around, his smell was overpowered. I couldn't sense him. My eyes lost him as he slipped – wounded – into the shadows.

I snarled softly in irritation as I landed. A flash of movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and my head snapped around. A flicker of a shadow. The quiet sound of a latch engaging – almost drowned out by the crackling of nearby fire.

Walking toward the sound, it didn't take long to find a recessed door well disguised by rubble.

I had him.

Probing within with my senses, I found him. His power masked but detectable by his close proximity. Then, another life-force caught my attention, that one unmistakably human.

I blew in the door and a large section of the wall with a blast and darted inside through the smoke, catching the two hidden within by surprise. Dazed as they were, there was nothing they could do to stop me. I pulled the female mortal up out of the rubble covering the floor by her collar.

Trunks settled into a ready stance, his power rising. "Mother!"

The blue-haired mortal shook her head. "No, Trunks! Go! Find hope! I love you!"

'Find hope?'

Odd last words.

No matter.

Smirking down at the mortal named Trunks, a mere fraction of my strength crackled down my arm, and I released it, vaporizing the woman in seconds and destroyed the last remnants of their hiding place.

Trunks slipped away from me in the fire and smoke – no doubt masking his energy. Wisps of energy flowed out of me, snaking into every crevice. With my eyes closed, I detected a small but bright spark of human life. It blazed like the sun in the barren wasteland I created.

It wasn't Trunks', but it would do. I had sensed that particular energy with him before. Wherever I found that bit of human energy, Trunks was never far away. Lifting into the air, I flew the few hundred yards to that energy and stopped. He was in the shadows with the dark haired girl I had seen him with before.

She darted out in the open from her hiding place and sought cover behind a large chunk of rubble. She fired her weak weapon again and again, the tiny projectiles streaking toward me all too easy to dodge, her face twisted into an unsightly expression of irritation – irritation that quickly turned to fear when I fired on her. She had no hope of dodging my blast and she was well aware.

The impressive explosion engulfed her and her lifeless body soared through the air several yards before landing with a thud, her energy extinguished.

She was dead.

I smirked down at Trunks bent over her body, shaking.

"You'll be with the girl soon. Humans deserve death. In death, they will finally atone for their sins and so will you. Today is the day you die!"

Trunks threw his head back and screamed in rage. He kicked into the air straight for me in a blast of energy, the familiar golden aura engulfing him, his face contorted in an ugly display of pain and fury, his power climbing at a rate faster than ever, and then higher than ever, his speed incredible. For the first time in a long time, he managed to land a blow straight to my solar plexus and I flew back.

My stunned lungs refused to work – refused to follow the subconscious reflex of their kind to breathe, my heart pounding in my chest. Seconds later, breathing returned, and I countered, delighting in his newfound power and in the little burst of energy I gained as my body recovered from that blow.

He got lucky. My speed remained unmatched and I countered, landing my own fist in his stomach, feeling as well as hearing several ribs crack under the pressure. Power surge or not, he wouldn't live to see another day. His death was imminent.

I wouldn't let him go right then. Relief in death was far more than that arrogant mortal deserved. I needed him to suffer – to break him – and then I would let him die.

Slamming punch after punch into his gut, his power dropped, the aura dissipating. His hair fell back into his normal shade of lavender. He was barely conscious. One more blast would be enough to finish him.

No more Trunks meant no more fights.

The blast charged in my hand, I hesitated a second too long because he had just enough energy to fire one last blast in my face, sending me careening away.

I recovered in the air and landed, blinking away the floaters obstructing my sight.

He was gone. I knew it before I got there. His energy was gone but there was no body. He was alive and he slipped away yet again.

I sought to finish him off, trying to find him but failed even with my senses as sharp as they were. He was alive. I hadn't killed him. It would take more than that to finish him. I concentrated, trying to find him but to no avail. Then, the noise of roaring engines from behind me and I spun around to see a craft piloted by the purple-haired mortal rising into the blackened sky.

I fired a blast at the craft hovering low in the air but in a flash of light, it vanished. I glared at the spot and did a sweep with my senses again but he was well and truly gone. There was no trace of his energy. He wasn't merely masking his energy in hiding. He wasn't on the planet at all.

A pulsating light on my hand caught my attention. The Time Ring. That pulsating became a single thin beam connecting me to the spot he vanished in. He wasn't just running. The ring behaved like he ran to a different time, reacting to the unnatural disturbance his time-traveling craft created.

A thunder-like crackle and a rip in the sky appeared before me, the thin beam of light disappearing into the center.

Letting my ring guide me straight to him, I was pulled into the tear. When I opened my eyes, I looked out over the familiar dome shaped buildings from where I hovered high in the air, those iterations unharmed. No matter. I could fix that.

I noted the presence of my counterpart, Vegeta, and the God of Destruction with his attendant, but decided I would deal with them later.

The purple-haired pest was first.

He flew up to me, glaring. "Black! What are you doing here!?"

"I came here the same way you did, through the same tear in time. I'm here because of you. I'm here because you called me here – however inadvertently."

Trunks summoned his power with a yell and attacked, but in his weakened state, he did not pose much of a challenge and I knocked him down with a swift blow to his stomach.

My counterpart was next. As our fight progressed, we revealed more and more of our power to one another – until his power went to a level that outmatched Trunks'.

His Super Saiyan transformation offered a tremendous boost of speed and strength. For the first time since taking Son Goku's body as my own, I met my match. I strived for victory, pushing myself to the limits of my formidable power but to no avail. The growing frustration of realizing he was stronger than me.

Then the growing thrill.

I shook myself of that thought, struggling to hold my eventual, inevitable defeat at bay.

That was ridiculous. Mortals were never supposed to be stronger than deities. Yet, Son Goku was. I should have been disgusted. Some part of me was. Another part of me… the dominant part of me was… electrified.

In our fight, I felt more alive, more thrilled than I have at any other time of my life. Killing Son Goku with my own hands would have been a great step toward my ultimate goal of utopia. Fighting Son Goku was the ultimate test of my strength.

I blocked Goku's kick but my whole body was yanked backwards and out of range, giving me no chance to retaliate. I glanced behind me, our fight halting. The tear in time created by Trunks was mending itself and required me to return to my world. I didn't have a choice. His defeat would have to wait for another day.

Trunks and Son Goku stared in shock at a point on the ground. The time travelling craft was on its side, narrowly missed by a blast. I destroyed it and then was yanked into the tear.

When the rip in time deposited me in the atmosphere of my world, I dropped out of the sky and landed on my feet, loose gravel crunching under my shoes. My heart was pounding but not from exertion. I was… elated. In that elation was a drive to push myself to new heights. In my counterpart, I found my challenge, anticipating our next match and his defeat.

Leveling other human population hubs upon my return accomplished my two goals at first, but very soon grew insufficient for the more intense training my body craved.

With a yell, I summoned my power in the middle of the smoking rubble of another destroyed city, blowing it away completely as my massive power exploded around me, blowing out a massive crater. My energy crackled around me and through every inch of my being – formidable but not enough to defeat Son Goku.

I shifted through martial arts forms I observed him using, the movements suiting my body perfectly and melded them into my own forms learned through my extensive training on the sacred world of the Kais. I delighted in my progress – in the increase in my power in just that brief time.

"Black."

Snarling at the interruption, I whirled on him.

Zamasu raised an eyebrow. "Stay focused on the objective, Black. Stay focused on bringing justice to the world."

"I am focused!"

He shook his head. "You've been slacking. I've been observing you from afar. You've been back in this time two full days and have only destroyed a few cities."

"Destroying Son Goku will bring justice to the world!"

"You are correct. But you mustn't forget about the rest of the vermin. I observed Trunks leave on a craft and that your Time Ring reacted to that craft's whereabouts. That was a time-traveling craft then, was it not?"

I nodded once. "It was but I destroyed it while in the past moments before the tear in time repaired itself."

He raised an eyebrow. "Saiyans are a stubborn, battle hungry lot, never backing down from a challenge. They will find a way to return. Until he arrives here, focus on ridding this time of those blasphemous pests."

My eyebrow twitched and I crossed my arms, recalling the interruption of my training. "Fine. I'll destroy cities until Son Goku arrives at our time. But I wont move until you spar with me."

Zamasu's lip curled in mild disgust. "Careful, Black. You're behaving no better than those mortals. And remember, Son Goku is mine to destroy when it comes time to." He sighed, his expression relaxing. "But fine. I will fight you."

After staring in equal portions disgust and ravenous hunger at the mountain of food covering the entire table and my own very full plate for several moments, I ate almost everything in sight, silencing my roaring stomach. I had to admit, the food was quite delicious. Food prepared by a fellow deity was far and away superior to anything I had consumed thus far.

Several plates later, I was uncomfortably full, having eaten a great deal more than I ever had in that form, every serving dish on our overcrowded table wiped clean. I anticipated having that body's vast reservoir of power at my disposal. I was unprepared for the amount of sustenance that power required – the amount only increasing proportional to my energy output.

Zamasu took my last plate from me, his small smile amused. "My, aren't you quite the gluttonous mortal."

Despite his comment being in jest, I narrowed my eyes at him in warning.

His smile only grew.

After eating, an itch to train gnawed at the back of my mind. I stood up from my seat at our outdoor dining table, vaulted over the deck railing of our cabin over looking the forest, and floated in the cool early morning air, drifting backwards. Once a good distance, I summoned my power and released my newly acquired transformation, and – engulfed by my beautiful rose pink aura – worked through several forms, melding Son Goku's style with my own.

After clearing the table, Zamasu stood on the deck, observing me in silence.

I stuck my hand out toward him, palm up, and twitched my fingers in a brief gesture to join me. He obliged and gave me the fight I needed to sate my newly awakened thirst for battle. Fighting Zamasu held the worst of the yearning at bay, but not all of it, for my ultimate prize would be the defeat of Son Goku by my hands.

Whenever he decided to come to me, I would end him.

I occupied my time destroying cities, but it was hardly satisfying since my thirst for intense battle had been awakened.

I charged a large blast, leveling most of a sprawling, ugly metropolis in one fell swoop when I sensed a surge of energy off in the distance.

It had been only a couple days' time. Not a long wait by any means. It was time to test my new transformation against Son Goku.

However, Vegeta was the first to engage me in battle, rage burning in his eyes because I had killed the future incarnation of his wife and critically injured his son. I warned him to learn his place as a lowly mortal. In his refusal, he earned himself impaled by my mighty Split Cut technique. Despite the fact he wielded the power of the gods, he was all too easily defeated and left for dead.

As Vegeta fell from the sky, Son Goku charged me after nodding at Trunks to tend to Vegeta.

Even Son Goku's own usage of the ki of the gods proved inferior to the might of my recently attained Super Saiyan transformation. Not even the combined efforts of Son Goku and Trunks were a challenge. All three met their defeats by my hand and fled to their time.

It was only the next day when an energy surged in the distance and a great pillar of light shot into the smoke-darkened sky – a brief but obvious signal. Son Goku, Vegeta, and Future Trunks had returned.

Moments later, I touched down on the roof of a crumbling tower, smirking down at them.

Vegeta charged me as his power exploded into Super Saiyan Blue, rage burning in his eyes yet again. "I WILL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME!"

He was knocked down again and I laughed. "Bruised your pride, have I?"

He roared, firing blast after blast, using the explosions as cover to get in close, but I gave him no openings, knocking him out to the ground once again with a blow to his stomach – one so hard his power fluctuated, nearly losing control of his transformation.

Son Goku and Trunks rushed to his assistance but I would not give them that chance. It was time I finished off Vegeta.

Using one of Son Goku's choice techniques, I landed on a high rooftop and settled into a stance. I cupped my hands together at my side until a brilliant, warm light bathed the area, and Zamasu descended from the clouds, making quite the entrance for the sake of the mortals. I allowed the energy to slip away harmlessly as he joined me on my lofty perch.

Son Goku glared up at us. "Zamasu!"

Zamasu smiled down at them. "Yes. It is I. I will bring you to your ultimate destruction."

Son Goku's glare gave way to a cocky smile. "You can try." His expression darkened again. "Before we get started, there is something I want to know. Tell me… how did you get my body?"

I smiled. "A wish on the Dragon Balls of the gods."

He raised an eyebrow. "You made a copy of me?"

I laughed. "No." I put my hand to my chest. "This is the real Son Goku. It's your body, but the soul that resides within this body is that of Zamasu."

Son Goku crossed his arms. "Clearly, you made a wish to have my body. How?"

I gritted my teeth at his insolent tone, but gave him the answer he desired. "In another time, I wished for my body and yours to be switched."

"Why?"

I let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Don't you see, Son Goku? I was the one that shamefully lost to you, a mere mortal. I needed more power so I abandoned my old body for yours and the power you possess." I prepared to blast into the air. "Now, prepare to pay for your insolence, mortal!"

A brief touch on my arm stopped me.

I glanced at Zamasu and he shook his head.

Son Goku's frown deepened. "Then… what happened to the me in that time after you stole my body?"

I cracked a smile and held out my left hand. "I killed you with this very hand."

He uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists at his sides. "What time are you from, Zamasu? And Lord Beerus killed you. I saw it. So why aren't you dead?"

Zamasu placed a hand on his chest. "I am of this time. Trunks' time. Or what you call the Future. I arrived here after Black came to me and killed Gowasu. Before coming here, we destroyed every single one of the Kais – including Gowasu of Black's time – to make them pay for their folly and to assume the role of Supreme Kai for ourselves. All of this is made possible by our Time Rings – which prevent us from being affected by anything done to other iterations. All of this is necessary to bring about our paradise."

I nodded to my counterpart. "Shall we, Zamasu?"

He sneered. "Certainly."

With that, we each charged large blasts and launched them at the mortals, beginning the fight. Goku charged, engaging Zamasu with a pointblank energy blast, his head badly damaged. I was unconcerned. Zamasu's immortality meant he healed in moments, Son Goku snarling in frustration.

He'd pay dearly for his attempt to kill a deity. Using one of his techniques, I translocated behind him, catching him by complete surprise, flipping up kicking him down, and he landed hard by his friends.

Vegeta glared up at us, shifting a foot forward, ready to fight. "What paradise is that?"

Zamasu smiled down at him. "One without mortals. None deserve the beautiful gift of life we have bestowed. They're all the same – barbaric, and evil. But none are as awful as humans. Humans must face a heavy penalty before they are driven to extinction. We brought about despair and fear the likes of which they have never experienced. They will never be able to rise again."

I grinned. "The Zero Mortals Plan."

Vegeta smiled humorlessly. "What a dramatic name. All you want to do is massacre mortals."

I nodded. "Yes. And we've killed countless thousands on this world alone – not to mention the others."

The sound of a foot shifting against the roofing and Zamasu said, "And now it's time to erase humanity for breaking the taboo of time travel and the unending violence in wars and in the streets."

The three of them explode into their mightiest transformations with angry roars, charging us as one, resulting in a chaotic exchange of hits from fists, feet, knees, and elbows as the three of them strived to defeat us, but at every turn, they were out-matched, out-paced, and easily overpowered but still we toyed with them.

Toying with them, my mind began to drift, pulling up images of Trunks in his rage when I nearly killed that girl and killed his mother.

Vegeta's anger when I took his ego down to where it belonged…

Their horrified yet angry expressions as Zamasu and I divulged our dream…

Their determination to prevent the inevitable demise of the last humans hidden on that world – determination that was driven by a misguided fury…

Fury.

That dreadful emotion was the root of all of it – one that drove humans to commit unspeakable atrocities against one another.

One that I would use to my advantage.

Firing a great blast on Son Goku, he crossed his arms in front of his face, shielding himself from it, the blast shoving him back in increments of movement. Sending him toward a ruined building and his back met it, his slow backwards movement ceasing and in a last push, he shoved the blast up and out of harm's way.

I gave him no time to move, planting myself inches away from him.

"Aren't you wondering what happened to your family after I took your body and killed you?"

His glare met my smirk, his voice low and hissing between his clenched teeth. "What… did you do… to Chichi and Goten?"

I laughed. "Isn't it obvious?" Charging up my energy blade, I drove it straight through him, pulling a scream out of him, his power fluctuating, his head bowed, and then, leaning in, I whispered directly into his ear, "I killed them as effortlessly as I killed you in my old body. And I'd do it again."

His head snapped up, his teeth bared, his power stabilizing and then growing – even with my blade protruding out his back. His aura flaring up around him, he reached down, and broke the blade as easily as one would snap a twig before throwing his head back in an agonized, furious roar, his power skyrocketing out of control, then moving with alarming speed, landed an uppercut with more power behind it than he had ever used, sending me flying. Despite the gaping wound through his side, his power was stunning, driven to new heights by his fury.

I had my fight, my worthy opponent unleashing his fury in a blitz of powerful hits, and for the first time since attaining my own Super Saiyan transformation… I hurt. And I loved it.

He seemed to find some enjoyment in causing my pain, his eyes hard and cold. Gone was the calm confidence he displayed earlier. In its place was blood-thirst – intense, unadulterated blood-thirst.

He loathed me, channeling that hatred into every single one of his strong hits. Hits that came too fast for me to successfully block – the pain worsening. A fist was driven into my gut with so much force my breath whooshed out, my stunned diaphragm unable to pull air into my lungs, his attack not over yet as fists drove into my back while I was doubled over in the air, sending me crashing to the ground.

Pain that would only push my own power to new heights and it was already working.

He dropped down to stand over me, his face still twisted into a foul display of bloodthirsty loathing, static sparks crackling around him, the first hints of the blast he charged, moments before the familiar glow started down his outstretched hand, the energy gathering into a bright sphere, and then he released it but I was ready, melding my own energy into a protective shield. With his close proximity, the contact – and resulting explosion – was instantaneous.

Despite the smoke hanging stagnant in the air and obstructing my sight, his energy remained hovering before me with his guard down, and I fired a quick blast, delighting in the explosion and pained yell as his energy dropped. I seized the opportunity to charge him, driving my fist straight into his wound and he screamed again as he careened away but I would not let him go, using Instant Transmission to place myself directly above him, flipping down to slam both feet into his stomach, his energy falling.

His momentum forced him through many buildings, and well out of sight – and even just out of sensing range, his energy so low I had a vague sense of life but could not pinpoint his location.

His death was imminent – if I could but find him.

Zamasu joined me in the air – evidently having finished off the others. "Killed him, did you?"

I glanced at him. "Almost." I closed my eyes, extending out tendrils of energy, searching every last nook and cranny in every direction, my complete concentration making my senses far sharper, sharp enough to – "Ah! There he is! Seems you didn't kill the others, either." With that, I touched two fingers to my forehead, grabbed Zamasu's shoulder, and appeared right next to the Time Machine hovering in the air somehow well behind where I had just been.

We couldn't use the Time Rings to get to Son Goku's time. However, there was one other way. The three weak and unconscious energies inside were none the wiser to their stowaways each gripping a leg of the time travelling craft.

While the time machine hovered low in the air a moment, Zamasu and I released our holds and dropped, touching down on the clean grounds of the Capsule Corporation.

A quick sweep of my senses alerted me to a short man with short black hair staring at us, shocked. His energy was inconsequential. Zamasu would take care of him.

I only had minutes in Son Goku's time.

Knowing exactly where he lived, I extended my senses, finding the familiar, weak energies of his mate and youngest child.

I touched two fingers to my forehead and found myself in a small kitchen. A petite woman in a sunshine yellow dress worked at the sink, her back to me.

She turned around, her smile falling into a look of confusion as she eyed me up and down. "Goku…?"

I smiled slyly. "Yes."

She pressed herself into the counter behind her, a suspicious frown on her face.

I took a step toward her and her eyes darted first to one side and then the other, looking for an escape route.

She picked one and darted to my left, but I grabbed her arm and the blood drained from her face.

Light footsteps came into the room and she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. I already knew who it was.

I turned and smiled down at the small mortal, his eyebrow raised in a look of vague confusion.

His confusion darkened into a slight frown. "Dad…?"

I shook my head, chuckling slightly. "No, young son of Goku. I am Goku, however I'm not your dear father anymore than I am her husband."

Chichi shuddered in my grip and tried to pull herself free, but I tightened my grasp on her arm and she sucked in a breath.

His frown deepened as he reached toward the little black-haired woman. "Hey… you're hurting her! Why are you hurting her?"

My smile widened. "Oh, I intend to do a lot more than hurt her."

Focused on the little boy, I didn't see the hard kick she aimed at my shin. It actually stung enough to nearly make me drop her arm. I was surprised a weak human woman was capable of such strength.

My eyes narrowed as I turned my attention to her and tightened my hold further, stopping just short of causing damage to the bone. "One more move like that and I'll shatter your arm easier than one would crush an autumn leaf."

Tears sprang to her eyes, her face contorted in pain and fear, her breathing shallow and fast.

Goten's energy exploded as he charged me and landed a surprisingly strong right hook on my cheek, making my head snap to one side. "I don't know who you are, but let go of my mom!"

His powerless mother screamed, "GOTEN! NO! DON'T!"

I twisted to the side, charged my Split Cut technique and struck out intending to impale him but he dodged it… partially. The crackling energy blade sank deep into his side. His energy dropped as he screamed, his hair fading to black and falling to its original shape. His small body hit the floor facedown with a thud.

The woman went hysterical, kicking out, screaming in anguish and anger, punching, fighting harder than ever before with a strength I didn't know she possessed.

I smiled down at her as she fought to get free. "Time to summon Son Goku."

Leveling his home sufficed. I dropped her – allowing her to scramble to the bleeding child – and reduced their small home to a smoking crater as she made it outside with the small, limp boy.

It was time to force Son Goku to the pinnacle of his power.

#My fanfiction #GoChi #Goku #Chichi #black goku #Goku Black #Zamasu #Goten #Gohan #Son Family #Unhinged Goku #Goku's nightmare #His Worst Fear #Part I

10 notes · View notes

jason5577 · 7 years

Photo

Sophie Scholl

They were guillotined 72 years ago today. And they deserve remembering.

Posted: February 23, 2015 in Political musings, Popular Culture et al, Religion

Tags: Anniversary of White Rose executions, Courage, German resistance, German resistance to Hitler, Germany, Munich, National Socialism, Nazis, resistance, resistance to Hitler, Sophie Scholl, University of Munich, White Rose, World War 2, World War II 40

The White Rose Sophie Scholl and members of White Rose One of the most disturbing, heart-rending and thought-provoking films we have ever seen was “Sophie Scholl – The Final Days”. The movie covers the efforts of a resistance group fighting the Nazis called “White Rose” Although the White Rose is well known in Germany, it is not well known overseas.

Der Weissen Rose was a group of mostly students at the University of Munich in Bavaria. Some were studying philosophy. Most, but not all, were religious in some way. Some of the boys had done military service but were allowed to do stints at university between stints on the Eastern Front. This experience provided them with more knowledge of what was actually going on than the average person living in Germany at the time, and it appalled them, but in their courageous resistance they still come across as young and somewhat naïve. It is this naivety that has made the White Rose so appealing. They operated from “pure” theological and philosophical intellectual opposition to National Socialism, to fascism, to dictatorship, to the war, and to the slaughter of Europe’s Jews.

To believe that there was very little resistance to Hitler inside Germany is a serious misunderstanding. Resistance to the Nazis began, of course, before they even came to power, and continued during the thirties and throughout the war.

Serving members of White Rose Resistance came from political groups of the left, centre and even conservatives, from unions, from churches and religious people, from within the government and branches of the military. Several attempts were made to assassinate Hitler both by groups and individuals. Although it did not succeed in overthrowing Hitler or ending the Nazi tyranny, the resistance did have an impact on the war and the ultimate defeat of the fascist regime. Why does it seem otherwise? Well, the Nazi regime set out systematically and ruthlessly to destroy all opposition. Thousands of the people who would have been part of an even more effective resistance movement fled into exile soon after Hitler came to power. Many more were perfectly understandably frightened by the danger and sank into silence and inaction.

Sophie Scholl was guillotined, as was her brother, another brother was lost on the Eastern front. In a final meeting, Scholl’s father told her he was proud of her and not to regret her sacrifice. She replied that she would see them again in Heaven. Sophie Scholl was guillotined, as was her brother, another brother was lost on the Eastern front. In a final meeting, Scholl’s father told her he was proud of her and not to regret her sacrifice. She replied that she would see them again in Heaven. Yet many did not and paid the price. At least 5,000 were executed and many more spent time in prison. Some were simply murdered. There was a feeling within Germany that people really shouldn’t undermine the government during wartime

Many ordinary Germans saw members of the resistance as traitors because that was what almost every source of information available to them told them they were.

Unlike in the countries Germany tried to conquer, the resistance had to assume that much of the population actually supported the government and would report their activities from a sense of duty or from totally justified fear, thus making their actions even braver. Nevertheless, their writings struck a chord with many in the community.

The nations fighting Germany during World War II also decided not to publicise the German resistance to Hitler during or after the war. The insistence on unconditional surrender and the strategic bombing raids which caused so many civilian casualties made it necessary to see Germany as guilty as a nation rather than as itself a victim of Nazi tyranny. The allied armies knew about the resistance and benefited from it but did not want to praise it, at least initially.

MovieSophieSchollSo the story of Sophie Scholl and her family and friends remained almost un-talked about until about the 1970s, when the German community started to discuss the war years more openly, and then again in 2005 when the remarkable film about the events was released.

You can watch the entire film, in its original German, with subtitles, below.

If you haven’t seen it, we cannot recommend it highly enough, but we warn you that it is gut wrenching.

Nevertheless, if you haven’t seen it, find a couple of hours, pour yourself a strong drink, and watch it. Those that died deserve to be remembered.

When people discuss the White Rose it has been suggested they were a brave but ineffective resistance movement. That is, in fact, not true. When they were active they caused the regime considerable annoyance. Although many who received the leaflets in the mail handed them in to police, many did not, and the regime had to deal with the fact that those who handed them in may have read them.

Sophie Scholl was an ordinary girl - devoutly Catholic, she fell in love with one of her fellow conspirators, she loved the countryside, she adored her parents. She was very ordinary, just very, very brave. Sophie Scholl was an ordinary girl – devoutly Catholic, she fell in love with one of her fellow conspirators, she loved the countryside, she adored her parents. She was very ordinary, just very, very brave. They managed to establish branches in Berlin and particularly Hamburg where sadly many of Hamburg White Rose met the same fate. The White Rose also had a role in a student uprising in Munich— which was quickly suppressed.

After their execution graffiti appeared on walls in Munich: “Ihr Geist lebt wieter” “Their Spirit Lives On”.

Others carried on the fight. Copies of the leaflets were smuggled out to the Allies and later dropped in their tens of thousands by bombers over German cities.

An example of the leaflets (there were a total of five) is produced below. The courage of young people who could make these arguments against the might of the Nazi Reich simply beggars belief. Especially as they operated in the sure and certain knowledge that one day they must be caught, with their horrifying deaths as the inevitable result.

Many brave people died during the Second World War. These young Germans were amongst the bravest.

THE THIRD LEAFLET

Salus publica suprema lex (Public safety is the supreme law)

All ideal forms of government are Utopias. A state cannot be constructed on a purely theoretical basis; instead, it must grow and develop in the same way an individual human being matures. But we must not forget that at the beginning of every civilization the state already existed in a rudimentary form. The family is as old as man himself, and out of this initial bond man, endowed with reason, created for himself a state founded on justice, whose highest law was the common good. The state should reflect the divine order, and the highest of all utopias, the Civitas dei, is the model it should ultimately resemble. We will not compare the many possible states here—democracy, constitutional monarchy, monarchy, and so on, but one issue needs to be made clear and unambiguous; every human being has the right to a just state, a state that safeguards the freedom of the individual as well as the good of the whole. For according to God’s will, man should be free and independent, while fulfilling his natural duty of living and working together with his fellow citizens, and strive to achieve earthly happiness through self-reliance and self-motivation.

But the present “state” is the dictatorship of evil. “Oh, we’ve known that for a long time,” I hear you object, “and it isn’t necessary to bring that to our attention again.” But, as I ask you, if you know that, why do you not rouse yourselves, why do you allow these men in power to rob you step by step, both openly and in secret, of one of your rights after another, until one day nothing, nothing at all will be left but a mechanized state system presided over by criminals and drunkards? Is your spirit already so crushed by abuse that you forget it is your right—or rather, your moral duty—to eradicate this system? But if a man can no longer summon the strength to demand his right, then he will definitely perish. We would deservedly be scattered over the earth like dust in the wind if we do not marshal our powers at this late hour and finally find the courage we have lacked up to now. Do not hide your cowardice behind a cloak of expedience, for with every new day that you hesitate, failing to oppose this offspringof Hell, your guilt, like a parabolic curve, grows higher and higher.

Many, perhaps most, of the readers of these leaflets cannot see clearly how they can mount an effective opposition. They cannot see any avenues open to them. We want to try to show them that everyone is in a position to contribute to the overthrow of this system. Solitary withdrawal, like embittered hermits, cannot prepare the ground for the overthrow of this “government” or bring about the revolution at the earliest possible moment. No, it can only be done through the cooperation of many convinced energetic people—people who agree on the means they must use to attain their goal. We have few choices as to these means. The only one available is passive resistance. The meaning and the goal of passive resistance is to bring down National Socialism, and in this struggle we can’t shrink from any means, any act, wherever it is open to attack. We must bring this monster of a state to an end soon. A victory for fascist Germany in this war would have inconceivable and terrible consequences. The first concern of every German is not the military victory of Bolshevism, but the defeat of National Socialism. This must be the first order of business; its greater imperative will be discussed in one of our forthcoming leaflets.

And now every resolute opponent of National Socialism must ask himself how he can most effectively fight against the present “state”, how he can inflict the most damaging blows. Through passive resistance, without a doubt. We can provide each man with a blueprint for his acts; we can only make general suggestions, and he alone will find the best way to achieve them.

Sabotage armament industries, sabotage every assembly, rally, ceremony, and organisation sponsored by the National Socialist Party. Obstruct the smooth functioning of the war machine (a machine designed for war that is then used solely to shore up and perpetuate the National Socialist Party and its dictatorship.) Sabotage in every scientific and intellectual field involved in continuing this war—whether it be universities, technical colleges, laboratories, research stations, or technical agencies. Sabotage all cultural institutions that could enhance the “prestige” of the fascists among he people. Sabotage all branches of the arts that have even the slightest dependence on National Socialism or serve it in any way. Sabotage all publications, all newspapers, that are in the pay of the “government” and that defend its ideology and help disseminate the brown lie. Do not give a penny to public fund-raising drives (even when they are conducted under the guise of charity), for this is only a cover. In reality the proceeds help neither the Red Cross nor the needy. The government does not need this money; it is not financially interested in these fund-raising drives. After all, the presses run nonstop, printing as much paper currency as is needed. But the people must never be allowed to slacken! Do not contribute to the collection of metal, textiles and the like. Try to convince all your acquaintances, including those in the lower social classes, of the senselessness of continuing, of the hopelessness of this war; of our spiritual and economic enslavement at the hands of the National Socialists, of the destruction of all moral and religious values; and urge them to adopt passive resistance.

Aristotle, Politics: “Further….[a tyrant] should also endeavor to know what each of his subjects says, or does, and should employ spies everywhere…and further, to create disunity and division in the population: to set friend against friend, the common people against the notables, and the wealthy among themselves. Also he should impoverish his subjects; the maintenance of guards and soldiers is thus paid for by the people, who are forced to work hard and have neither the time nor the opportunity to conspire against him…Another practice of tyrants is to increase taxes, after the manner of Dionysius at Syracuse, who contrived that his subjects paid all their wealth into the treasury within five years. The tyrant is also inclined to engage in constant warfare in order to occupy and distract his subjects.

Please make as many copies of this leaflet as possible and pass them on!

Source: https://wellthisiswhatithink.com/2015/02/23/they-were-guillotined-73-years-ago-today-and-they-deserve-remembering/

#Anniversary of White Rose executions White Rose #courage #munich germany #resistance to Hitler #German resistance to Hitler #university of Munich #world war two #40

1 note · View note

dearest-sunshine · 6 years

Text

Word Count – “Sure just let me … Lie down here.”

Date – August 18, 2018

Word Count – 2270

It’s not every day you get to see the gates of hell while still living. And apparently, I should be lucky. Or so this grim reaper dude says.

“Honestly man, I was sleeping. Can I go back to sleep? And wake up in my own bed?” the man shakes his head. Honestly, the grim reaper does not AT ALL look like what we make him out to be. Imagine your version of Aphrodite. Yeah. That’s what he or she looks like. Death is HOT. At the moment though, I did not give a single flying shit.

“I’m sorry ma’am. We need to meet with Satan to figure out what’s going on. Like why you’re here. We may break so you can nap for a second though!” I look at him. And then at the river of lava beside us. And then at the ground which was made of rocks and red sand.

“Sure. Lemme just…. Lie down here for a sec…” He glares at me and mutters under his breath.

“Oh, for the love of shit you are one of the most annoying people I’ve ever met. And I deal with some annoying ass people.” I smirk.

“that’s the goal. Imma make this trip hell. Oh wait.” He rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath and I leap from one boulder to another. Oh well. If I’m in hell I might as well, make it worth it. I mean, aside from the lave and sharp rocks, it isn’t that bad. It’s just like a giant sauna. That I will be trekking. For who knows how long. I groan.

“How long will this take?” I ask him. Genuinely curious. “I was planning on going to the prom for once and it’s today.” Death throws me a look over his shoulder. Like I should know better. Which is annoying because I’ve never been to hell and I have no clue what’s going on.

“I have no clue. Time in hell is weird.” Jesus! That is not an answer!

“God are you always this confusing?” he scoffs. I groan. And we walk. And walk. An hour later or so. (He’s right. Sadly. Time is confusing.) I check my phone. Thankfully, it was in my hand when I fell asleep, so it came with me. I try and turn it on. Instead of my usual lock screen, or a black screen, it shows a red screen. Like pure red.

“Dammit! What’d you do to my phone? I just want to check the time!” he stops and turns around.

“Shit do I have to explain EVERYTHING to you? Time is weird here. Electronics don’t work. You cannot die. We need to reach Devil man. I have no clue how long it will take. Now will you shut up? God the dead are NEVER this loud.” I smile. At least he acts human.

~ ~ ~

We walk in silence a bit longer but then I get bored. I hate silence.

“So….” I start talking, not knowing where I’m going. “why are you so fucking gorgeous?” he sighed a little bit. Like he hated explaining but did so all the time.

“I look different for each person. Basically, your version of the most attractive person ever, I am that person. I guess it makes dying easier.” Makes sense. He stopped, and I almost ran into him. He turned.

‘What do I look like to you?” I considered.

“I’m not sure how to describe you. You look kind of normal to me, but I’m not really attracted to the physical. I guess, if I were to describe you physically, you have a fade top. Your skin’s like fucking bronze or something. Your eyes are like a emerald green and you have a sharp ass jawline.” I pause for a second. there’s something else I just can’t put my finger on it. “Oh! Your missing your right pinky and have a scar around your neck.”

He looked at me with his jaw dropped. I felt scared. Did I describe him wrong? Shit.

“Did I..... Do something wrong?” he shook himself and pulled up the hood on his sweater. Funny. You think death would wear like a scary cloak and carry a scythe but nah. Just a red sweater and black pants.

“No.” I snap back from my tangent and look at him. “That’s… that’s what I actually look like. I’ve never had anyone describe the actual me. No one has ever found the real me attractive.” Damn. I’m kinda shocked. I never really had a type. I was kind of attracted to everyone. Just felt more attracted to personality than physical. I mean yeah physical was important, but I never really thought about it. He snapped his fingers in front of me and I shook myself into reality.

“Sorry man. dude… bro… what should I call you?” he laughed as I blushed a bit. Dammit. Why am I blushing?

“I never really had a name. most people just call me death.” I nod.

“That’s fair. I’m gonna name you.” He looks worried. “relax. I’m actually pretty good at naming things.” I consider.

“Jordan.” I nod definitively. He shrugs.

“Not too bad.” We make eye contact and blush. Dammit! “we should probably keep moving.” He says, looking at the distance ahead. I grin, and we start walking. This time, its peppered with conversation. We talk about school, why I’m so excited for prom, what prom is like what it’s like being death, and finally, why the fuck was he only a teenager?

“I’m actually one of the first ever people to die.”

“damn. Why do you look like a…? I dunno… ‘modern’ teen?”

“Because I’ve aged? But not in a biological sense. More I just look like a teen in the certain time period. My clothes and wardrobe change with the times too.”

“Damn. So, you’re like 10,000 years old?” he nodded. “Jesus.”

We walk a bit longer in silence.

“So why were you chosen to be death?” he thinks about it for a minute.

“because of the rest of the… village I guess? Didn’t want to die and I was the one who helped everyone come to terms with it. It was kinda trippy to see the first one die. Like how did you know they were dead? It was strange. Everyone was panicking and I kinda calmed them down. I was actually the last in my village to die.”

“Huh. Heroic.” He smirks and shrugs. “So, what about the devil and god and all that? How does that work?”

“well its different for everyone. It depends on your religion and beliefs. If you’re atheist, its kinda just nothing I guess.” I nod. Makes sense. Growing up in a Christian household, I still hold some of the Christian values even if I don’t support Christianity.

“Yeah. I guess I always figured id end up with hell. Even if I wasn’t pan, I've probably committed enough other sins. I mean who hasn’t?”

Jordan nodded.

“everyone has. It just depends on how bad they are. Honestly, though, I don’t understand why anyone would want to be in heaven. It’s kinda boring there. Then again, Utopias bore me. Nothing bad happening? Hah.” Yeah. I can get that.

“Plus, God is a douche.” I stop. Damn. I mean yeah, that makes sense. But still. Damn.

“How?”

“Well for the first couple centuries, he was really proactive. Very benevolent towards those who worshipped him. Smite those who are bad. Blah blah. He actually controlled hell too. Satan hadn’t really had a reason to be angry at him.

Anyways, after the black plague, he kinda stopped caring. Got lazy. I mean he still listens to his followers, but he got egotistical. Cared only for the opinions of his loudest disciples. He does what they say. Hence, gay people going to hell. All that.

So, after a couple years, Satan gave up. She tried her best to talk some sense into God, but he did not give a flying shit. After a while, she kinda just said fuck it and created a place for those who sinned. I actually enjoy being down here more. She’s like my older sister.

Anyways, she has more of a moral compass than doofus up there so those who really have sinned, molesters, pedophiles, rapists, etc., get actually punished whereas those who don’t really deserve it kinda just chill.

Every couple year, she has me do a sweep of heaven and bring down those who deserve to be punished but went unpunished because they supported God. Also, those who are just kind of sick of God.” I nod. Everything he says made sense. And, honestly, I’m excited to meet Satan now.

~ ~ ~

We trek for a while. Finally, I see lights up ahead. Jordan sighs.

“I forgot. There’s a party tonight. It’s gonna be hell finding Satan.” I giggle when he says hell. Its kinda funny considering the situation. And honestly, he and I have gotten along rather nicely. I’m definitely more attracted to him than I was at the start of the adventure.

We get to the gates and hear music. I kinda bob along to it. It’s definitely my style. That reminds me. Prom. I sigh, realizing that I’ve probably missed it. Jordan looks at me confused.

“I just realized that I’ve probably missed prom by now. And my family probably thinks that I’ve run away.” He shrugs. I find myself not really caring anymore either. My family sucked. we enter the party. It looks awesome. Loud music, grinding, food, everything a party needs. God, I love it.

I start dancing to the music, swaying my hips and all that when I feel a pair of hands on my hips. I jerk around and see Jordan smirk at me.

“Satan’s normally at the middle of the party so we might as well dance our way there.” I roll my eyes but go with it. We grind and slowly make our way through the crowd. It hot and sweaty and so much damn fun. There’s guys dancing with guys, girls with girls, guys with girls, and so much more going on. Jordan pulls me closer and I blush. After about a week together, I can fully admit to myself that I like him. He leans down and whispers in my ear.

“I think I see her but she’s dancing this girl she wants to bone. Let’s give her a minute.” I giggle and nod my head. Leaning back, I wrap my arms around his neck and close my eyes as we ‘dance’. We sway for a minute and then a feel him gently tug on my arms. He spins me around and my eyes fly open with mild shock. He pulls me close as I look up to him. He’s a good 5 inches taller than I am. He smirks, and I feel my face turn beet red. I know exactly what’s happening. I’ve seen movies.

He leans down, and I close my eyes. God. This if fucking magical. I’ve definitely had my fair share of kisses, but none are as good as this one. Let me tell you one thing, person who’s reading this. Kisses are nothing like how they right in books. There are no fireworks. It doesn’t change your life. You won’t get married to your first kiss.

But here’s the thing. While there may not be fireworks, you will feel wonderful. Your toes will curl. You will feel warm. It will feel right. And god, did that kiss feel right.

~ ~ ~

We break apart and I look at him. He smirks, and I blush harder than I ever had.

“That was… fucking amazing.” He laughed breathlessly.

“Damn right.” I looked around. “Oh look! Satan’s staring at us. Joy.” And damn was she. Her mouth was open, and she had frozen. Jordan waved at her and she jolted. A big grin crossed her face as she made her way to us.

“Baby bro!!! you made it! And you brought a guest!” she exclaimed, hugging Jordan and looking at me. “Oh! You must be the one who told me you’d sell your soul to get out of your family and town! I’m so sorry life was so terrible for you. Anyways, you’re welcome to live here. I see you’ve already met my lil bro.” Damn. For someone portrayed as dark and foreboding, she was very bubbly. Then again, Satan was portrayed as male in the bible.

“Hi.” I say, a little shy. Satan was hot as fuck. “I’m Jada. And actually, thank you for listening to my... Prayer I guess? I couldn’t stand another day.” She nodded sympathetically.

“Of course, dear. Now, I know that you’ve obviously met my little brother, so he can guide you to your room.” Jordan nods and takes my hand. He leads me to the house that the party is coming from. We weave our way through couples practically fucking on the sofas and upstairs to a cozy looking hall with multiple bedrooms. Jordan guides me to the next one.

“This one will be yours. Mine is just across the hall.” I nod shyly and consider the room. Its rather lovely. I turn to him a blurt something out that I never in a million years thought I would.

“Will you help me get comfy in here?” I scream internally as I end with a wink. Jordan stares for a second, blinks, and then picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he starts kissing me. The door shuts behind us and the rest is history.

#writing #decaffeinated writing #short story #death #satan #hell #idk.#im probably gonna anger some people with this

0 notes