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Chapter 134: Changing History, Changing The Timeline
🕑 Added 2025-01-02 23:41:41 +0000 UTC1 week later,
Later that night,
Twice a week, the Supreme Court justices convened for a private conference, but today was anything but ordinary.
The room, typically marked by an air of superiority and precision, felt charged with unease and almost paranoia.
The justices were all haggard and disheveled, their formal appearances a mess as though summoned on short notice.
Chief Justice Hughes especially, who sat at the head of the table, had his brow furrowed in thought, gnawing absently on his thumb.
“Then, I suppose that you all received a very-.........................incriminating document and or folder-” Louis Brandeis tried to force out a chuckle but it came out hollow, fiddling with his fingers only for one of the men to slam their hand down.
BAM
“IT WAS THAT MUTANT, THAT-THAT RICKY LUCIANO!” Devanter bellowed, his voice cracking with fury as his disheveled hair mirrored the chaos of his emotions, while the rage etched across his face barely masked the undercurrent of worry lurking beneath.
As had happened many times before, the justices found themselves divided by the statement.
Each one suddenly possessed a folder stuffed with incriminating documents, evidence so damning it could condemn them all to sentences of twenty years or more.
“But how could such a youngster find these nuggets, it’s not like we didn’t cover our tracks?” James McReynolds asked, unable to look others in the eye after what his folder said but couldn’t help but voice his disbelief.
“It don’t matter, he must’ve used his devil powers to conjure the evidence onto our doorsteps.” Sutherland’s southern accent rang out, making his stance clear but that only made the others frown.
‘Ah, you were on the right track, I’ll give you that but as always, you’ve gone and missed the mark.’
The words suddenly resonated in their minds, surrounding all the justices as if the shadow’s on the wall were whispering to each of them.
“N-No, please,” Chief Justice Hughes stammered, clutching his head as a shiver ran down his spine.
That voice, it was all too familiar as he silently prayed to God it wasn’t who he feared it might be.
‘Oh Hughes, still the same as ever.’ Elias chuckled, resting his shadowy hands on his shoulders while appearing behind the Chief Supreme Justice.
All the Supreme Court justices froze as Elias's voice slithered directly into their minds, a sinister whisper that rooted them in place.
His eyes hovered unnervingly above Hughes’s bowed head, their presence a looming shadow of dread.
“H-Hughes, behind you-”
“P-P-Please Elias, please I beg you.” Hughes' voice interrupted Sutherland, crumbling under the pressure of his mere tone.
“Please, I’ll do anything but-”
‘Oh but I don’t want you to do anything but this.’ Elias' dark chuckle sounded, forcing goosebumps along each of these old mens skin.
‘You are all to reject the appeal and rule in favor of Ricky Luciano-’
“ARE YOU MAD DEVIL!” Sutherland roared, standing up as Hughes shook his head.
“Sutherland, sit down.” Hughes looked up with a grave expression, almost pleading to Sutherland.
‘Yes Sutherland, listen to your friend.’ Elias' eyes formed into crescent moons, watching Sutherland rage flourish across him.
"If you think for a moment that I’ll just sit here and let a devil-l-l-l-l-l-" Sutherland's southern accent roared out, making a stand but his deviant words faltered, stuttering into a grotesque loop as if caught on a broken record.
The other justices watched in mounting horror as Sutherland's body began to convulse violently.
Blood seeped from his eyes, the crimson streaks a chilling contrast to his ashen face, before he crumpled to his knees at Elias’s feet, a dreadful silence settling over the room.
‘For all your achievements,’ Elias’s voice slithered through the air, cold and measured.
‘For all the success you managed to muster in these worthless lives of yours, you still sinned.’ Elias circled Sutherland, the justices now trapped in his unyielding presence, his steps deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey.
‘Yet, for everything you are," Elias continued, his eyes glinting with malice.
‘There are parts of you that you’ve tucked away, buried deep beneath all that shining success.’ Elias’s voice grew lower, each word a knife twisting in the air as he made his way around them, the justices now prisoners of his every move.
‘Parts that can’t be seen by the light, that must always remain in the shadows.’ Elias murmured calmly, his tone low and deliberate as he moved with a quiet, unhurried grace, pausing once he stood behind Hughes.
‘It’s unfortunate, truly.’ Elias' voice remained composed, almost detached.
‘Because for every figure, there is an equal, stretching shadow. And I have lingered in each and every one.’ Elias' words were a soft, chilling confession, each syllable carrying the weight of unspoken horrors.
‘Whenever you looked around, thinking you were alone, I was always the shadow on the wall. And when you thought you'd escaped, I was there, watching your departure as the distance grew between us.’ Elias chuckled, knowing each and every one of these mens deepest secrets.
“Elias, please, this will end some of our careers-”
‘Then it’s only fitting, I was the one to build you up so it’s only right that I should be the one to tear you down.’ Elias side-eyed Hughes, watching him duck his head at his gaze.
‘If the decision isn’t made today, and isn't announced tomorrow, then all of your secrets will leave those shadows of yours and everyone will see who all of you really are.’ Elias' slow hum sounded, his figure departing towards the door before he suddenly stopped as they all watched him leave.’
'But you could be heroes.’ Elias said, his voice almost gentle, like a flicker of hope in the darkness.
‘Try to confess before it's too late, and perhaps save yourselves from the decision you believe to be wrong.’ Elias paused, turning away from them, his words lingering in the air.
‘But that was if you hadn't killed, stabbed, lied, and sullied your morals for the seat you now occupy.’ Elias left them with those final, haunting words.
He offered them a chance at redemption, to go against him, but what difference could it make after everything they had done to get here?
"Chief Justice, what do we do?" Justice Pierce Butler asked, his voice tight with uncertainty.
Hughes took a long, steadying breath, his fingers gripping the edge of the table as he adjusted himself, the weight of the moment pressing down on him before giving into it all.
“We keep the seats we occupy now and vote in favor for Ricky Luciano.”
Next Day,
“If you're just tuning in, let me break down the latest story that's taken hold of the American mind,” a radio host blared from the car’s speakers, eager to catch any potential listener.
“What began as a simple civil case has now spiraled into a growing sensation, with the Supreme Court justices set to make an announcement today.” The radio host continued, his words over the top and exaggerated to keep listeners hooked onto every word.
“Ricky Luciano, an honorary bishop of the Vatican and a native of New York, has claimed he was subjected to an unfair search and seizure at the border.” The radio host continued.
“The District Attorney, Tommy Dewey, responded by saying that his actions were taken in the interest of national security, arguing that Luciano’s mutant abilities posed a significant threat.”
“At first, this case seemed destined to be swept under the rug. But then, the defense attorney, a Black boy named Thomas Marshall, argued that Luciano’s search was unlawful, citing his status as a mutant as the sole basis for the treatment.”
“The argument was swiftly dismissed by Hawkins, who insisted that Ricky Luciano himself posed a clear danger to the American people, and that Dewey had every right to conduct the search.”
“The case took an unexpected turn with the shocking revelation that Dewey and Hawkins had mistakenly set fire to a club meeting instead of Ricky Luciano’s residence,” the host continued.
“Now convicted and awaiting trial, Dewey went on record blaming Luciano, but in a twist, Hawkins confessed to the crime before taking his own life.”
“The jury, finding Luciano to be the victim of Dewey’s cruelty, awarded him a staggering $25 million. But just as the case seemed settled, the Supreme Court accepted an appeal, ensuring that this saga is far from over.”
"However, just a week before today’s ruling, Ricky Luciano made a bold proclamation. He revealed that he had dreams of serving in our great nation’s military, wanting to contribute like any other American and protect our lands. But, he expressed disheartenment at the idea that, because he was born a mutant, he might never get that chance."
"He even went as far as to say that if he won any money from this case, it would go directly to a foundation dedicated to helping mutants better integrate into the American way of life."
"Now, listeners, we have multiple callers on the line eager to share their thoughts on the growing precedent this case is setting." The radio host then gave the listeners a treat, aligning some callers waiting on multiple telephone lines.
“Caller from Mississippi, you have the floor.”
“Thanks, Jim, big fan of the show!” the caller from Mississippi exclaimed excitedly, barely able to believe he was actually on his favorite radio program.
“Now, I just don’t get why this boy has to go and tarnish the way of life. I mean, that Dewey feller, although a murderer, saw a threat and tried to do right by his country!” The caller from Mississippi showed his outrage, taking Dewey’s side since he seemed like an upright figure compared to Ricky Luciano.
“Thank you caller, next caller from all the way in Oregon.”
“Hello Jim, thank you so so much for having me on and all I like to say is that I really feel for this poor boy,” the caller from Oregon expressed their guilt, immediately taking the side of Ricky.
“That harsh man had no right to do all of that to that young man and what’s more, he wanted to serve our country.” The Oregon caller sighed heavily, thinking it was noble for Ricky to want to serve his beloved country.
"Not many people want to do that, and I think it’s a selfless thing to even donate all that money to others like him." The Oregon caller showed his stance, feeling nothing but empathy for Ricky and his cause.
“Thank you caller, next from Georgia.”
"Honestly Jim, I don’t see what the big fuss is and why it’s all I’m reading about," the caller from Georgia scoffed, clearly annoyed that it had taken up so much of the front page of his morning newspaper recently.
“It’s cut and dry, and this much money is absurd. That should be used to fund actual programs instead of giving it away." The caller from Georgia sneered at it all, thinking this entire trial was a pointless endeavor.
“Next caller, Arkansas.”
“They had no right to search him, that Ricky Luciano is an american and he shouldn’t have been treated any less, and what’s more is that he’s a man of god, what more can you ask?” The caller from Arkansas couldn’t help but be shocked, showing his disbelief and taking the side of the lord.
“Next caller, New York.”
“That cop went too far ya hear me, Ricky Luciano ain’t just a mutant but a good italian man. People don’t know crap about what he did for the neighborhoods and what’s more, when he left, he left for god, FOR JESUS CHRIST, ain’t nuttin you can tell me that takes away from how much I respect Ricky Luciano.” The caller from New York almost yelled into the phone, expressing his side clearly.
“Next caller, Ohio.”
"You see, Jim, mutants are a small bunch now, but what happens when we get thousands of them crawling the streets, waving their hands and using these devil powers of theirs to just make things that shouldn’t happen appear? If you ask me, we should have laws in place for people like them." The caller from Ohio grew more heated with every passing word.
“Next caller, Louisiana.”
“I honestly don’t care, I want to hear about how the Yankees lost.”
“Next caller Virginia.”
“It just needs to end, I’m tired and I don’t get why this is all I’m reading about.”
The words poured out of the radio, each one cutting through the air as Ricky Luciano sat in the car, his eyes fixed on the imposing façade of the Supreme Court.
“Do you think it was wise to not take this into your own hands?” Chester asked, his voice laced with a hint of mockery as Ricky frowned upon hearing it out loud instead of in his head.
“No, in fact, it seems pretty stupid from an outside perspective to just trust some guy I barely met.” Ricky's words were completely self-deprecating, clicking his tongue at his own actions.
“Then why did you do it?” Chester asked, his tone probing. Ricky paused for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“Cause I can’t do everything myself, I can’t just use that genhutsua of yours and just will everyone my way, at least it would take too long.” Ricky leaned back, mispronouncing genjutsu while crossing his leg as he looked at Chester who was silent.
“The guys I have around me aren’t good with stuff like this, aren’t able to go behind the scenes and pull strings without cutting one or two,” Ricky sighed, brooding over the events ahead.
“I need people around me that can do stuff like that, and although I don’t trust that guy as far as I can throw him, it’s impressive what he’s built without anyone even knowing.” Ricky admitted, taken aback by how functional the sanctuary was and how well hidden it remained.
“And although I don’t really know the Hellfire Club, I know that Selene is a part of it,” Ricky sighed, annoyance creeping into his voice as he thought about the forces hiding and observing him from the shadows.
“Selene?”
“Evidently, she’s this busty chick that castrates guys,” Ricky clarified, as all of his familiars shivered at the thought.
“So, what are you going to do, other than constantly yapper on?” Garfield sighed from the backseat, scratching his belly.
“Well I had a couple of ideas, one of them putting you on a diet.” Ricky casually retorted, reclining his seat back
“Diet?!” Garfield shot to his little stubby feat, exasperated at the actual thought but Ricky ignored him.
“The second is to see how this plays out and if he comes through,” Ricky said, tapping on the car as he stared at the rearview mirror, his gaze fixed on the courthouse ahead.
“What if you lose, what if-”
“If I lose, then I’ll work around the government, but let’s worry about it if that even happens.” Ricky paused, glancing over at Chester as Marshall slowly walked out and gestured for Ricky to come in.
“Good luck,” Garfield hissed out, throwing a cheese puff into his mouth as Ricky leaned back to flick his forehead before getting out of the car.
“Luck is for chumps.” Ricky stated with a cheeky smile, stepping out of the car and leaving the three of them behind.
“Why does he always say that?” Garfield asked, licking his fingers as Chester shot him a disgusted look.
Garfield didn't seem to care, continuing to rub his paws on the leather while being too lazy to just go back and actually read the story.
“It’s a long story-”
“Then out with it already, it's not like we have anything better to do while we’re here,” Garfield lazily replied, lounging and turning onto his back as his tail flicked to the side as he settled in, clearly not wanting to read but preferring to just listen.
“Do you want to-” Alexander asked, side-eyed the fat cat before Chester immediately nodded.
“Yes,” Chester replied, crouching down as Alexander hopped onto his back and with a powerful leap, they took off into the air, leaving Garfield behind, still munching on cheese puffs.
“And then there was one.”
Meanwhile in the courthouse,
Ricky walked in, dressed in his fine Italian suit, with Marshall by his side as they arrived at their seats.
“Nervous?” Ricky leaned over and asked, clearly noticing Marshall fidgeting in his chair.
“Is it obvious?” Marshall replied, his voice betraying his unease as Ricky chuckled, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a flask that once belonged to Abraham.
“Here, loosen the edge-woah there big guy.” Ricky was about to recommend only for Marshall to swipe his flask from his hand.
Cough
Cough
“Ease off the throttle there, here.” Ricky said, handing the flask to Marshall and giving him a reassuring pat on the back as Marshall leaned back, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
It was then that Dewey walked in, his hands cuffed, flanked by a district attorney whose unimpressed gaze locked onto Ricky.
“Is that the sound of justice I hear? It must be, if it's the sound of your handcuffs clinking together.” Ricky leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a certain satisfaction as he watched Dewey, whose tired eyes told a story of his own misery.
But instead of responding, Dewey simply took a seat, his silence more telling than any words could be.
“You’re kidding. No quip about how I’m some evil, sadistic man?” Ricky’s voice dripped with disbelief as he leaned forward, seeing the man before him so utterly broken, stripped of any bravado, and simply hollow.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Ricky couldn’t help himself, his laughter spilling out uncontrollably as he reveled in his own amusement.
But Dewey, sitting across from him, barely seemed to notice as his usual resolve was gone, replaced by a hollow emptiness as he stared into the distance, his once unshakeable conviction now reduced to nothing more than a vacant expression.
FLASHBACK
“Honey, is that you?” Dewey muttered, standing up and pressing his hand against the cold glass.
He had been transferred to a detention center after the security risk posed by Ricky Luciano, and now, the isolation seemed to gnaw at him.
Before Dewey, a smile spread across his face as he saw Frances, but it quickly faded when he noticed her downcast expression.
She didn’t offer a greeting, just silently walked over to the chair and sat down, her posture stiff and distant, as if unsure of how to bridge the gap between them.
"Oh, thank God you're here," Dewey muttered, his words coming out in a broken, erratic pattern.
Everything about him seemed so different from the man she had once married, his voice shakier, his posture hunched, and his entire demeanor in stark contrast to the confident figure he had always claimed to be.
“Listen to me, Ricky Luciano-”
Sniff
Frances couldn’t even bring herself to look at him anymore as her body trembled, tears welling in her eyes as she stared down at her ring.
Slowly, she began to take it off, each movement making Dewey freeze in place, his breath catching in his throat.
“N-No, wait Frances, you’re the last person I can hold onto to and-”
“Tommy, I-I’m leaving you.” Frances said softly, her voice laced with guilt as she finally looked up.
Dewey’s entire body trembled, his eyes wide as his face drained of color, the weight of her words sinking in.
“W-Wha-”
“What are you talking about, Frances? What do you mean!” Dewey stood up abruptly, his eyes wild with a mix of anger and fear, his hand pressing against the glass.
“I’ve found someone else, someone who cares about me and my passions, someone who treats me like more than just a housewife.” Frances clutched the ends of her skirt, the guilt weighing heavily on her, but there was no turning back now and despite the pain, she knew this was the right thing to do for herself.
“I’m sorry,” Frances whispered, her voice barely audible as she lowered her head slightly, her heart aching as she stood up.
Turning her back to Dewey, she could feel the weight of his heartbroken gaze on her as his face, once so familiar, now reflected nothing but pain and disbelief.
“Frances you can’t leave me, you’re all that I have left, FRANCES!”
FLASHBACK END
“Wow, it’s almost like you’re crumbling before me.” Ricky’s words lingered in the air, cutting through the silence as Dewey’s mind raced.
Dewey suddenly glanced up, seeing the wide grin on Ricky’s face, a smile that reveled in the despair Dewey had found himself drowning in.
“I almost want to PAINT your expression right now.” Ricky emphasized one particular word, making Dewey’s breath hitch as he stood up only for the supreme court justices to file in.
“ALL RISE, THE SUPREME COURT IS RECONVENING!” The bailiff called out, his voice echoing through the courtroom.
Ricky stood up, his posture sharp, and turned towards the justices, a calm yet expectant look in his eyes.
Hughes was the last to enter, clearly rattled as his gaze met his gaze only for Ricky to offer him a warm smile, one that sent a chill creeping down Hughes' spine.
All the justices wore similar expressions, their faces a mix of weariness and contemplation. Elias had pulled every card he’d accumulated over the years to prove Ricky's value, and his gamble had paid off in a spectacular way.
Hughes surveyed the crowd that had gathered, each individual waiting with bated breath for the decision that would alter the course of precedent for the next two decades.
“We, the Supreme Court, have reached a decision in the case of Luciano v. Dewey,” Hughes announced, his voice steady but weighed down by the gravity of the moment as he slowly pulled the paper from his folder, the very same one that held the decision to everything Ricky had invested his time into as of late.
The other justices, unable to raise their heads, cast their eyes downward in shame, unable to look the people before them in the eyes.
“We have found that Ricky Luciano, a mutant, had his natural rights as an American citizen violated,” Hughes declared, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of his words as he closed his eyes for a brief moment, fully aware that this decision would forever define his tenure on the Supreme Court.
The courtroom fell into stunned silence, every person present gasping as the implications of the ruling sank in.
Raven’s breath caught in her throat, the words of the ruling striking her like a bolt of lightning.
She stood slowly, unable to fully process what she was witnessing as this was a moment she had never anticipated, one that didn’t even make it into Destiny’s book.
She believed in Ricky but seeing is easier than hearing about it as her eyes shifted to him, whose arrogant smile seemed to stretch wider with the weight of the victory.
"In light of this revelation, the Supreme Court has decided to award only 20 million of the original 25 million, with the funds being donated to Ricky Luciano's new foundation at his own request. That is all." Hughes concluded, his voice steady as he delivered the final word with the room falling into stunned silence, the weight of the decision settling over everyone like a heavy cloud.
As Hughes stood, the first domino of consequences began to fall, and the future seemed uncertain for all involved as the timeline completely distorted at this moment.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN!”
“ARE YOU SERIOUS!”
“THIS IS SURREAL!”
“GODDAMNIT, MY BOOKIES GONNA HAVE MY BALLS!”
The atmosphere in the courthouse shifted abruptly as those who were meant to remain respectful broke into a roar of disbelief.
Gasps and murmurs filled the air, the shock of the ruling spreading like wildfire as even the government officials, who had long anticipated Ricky Luciano’s downfall, were stunned.
This wasn’t supposed to be a moment of public execution, this was supposed to be the day Ricky’s name was buried in disgrace.
Yet, instead of falling from grace, he had risen, his fate now forever intertwined with history, and the power of the ruling echoing far beyond the courthouse walls.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Marshall started tumbling out a barrage of laughter, hugging Ricky as he started to tear up.
“WE REALLY DID IT, WE DID IT!” Marshall yelled out, jumping up and down as Ricky merely looked at Dewey.
In that moment, Ricky’s promise had materialized in full force, and Dewey, once confident and brimming with authority, now crumbled under the weight of his downfall.
His body trembled as he was escorted out, the jeers of the mob growing louder with each step.
The very people who had once upheld his image now looked upon him with disdain, eager to tear him down as they had once built him up as Dewey was left with nothing, not even his own pride.
Amidst the chaos, Ricky stood at the center, a figure of both admiration and contempt, completely unfazed by the frenzy surrounding him.
The media swarmed, microphones thrust forward, cameras clicking rapidly, lightbulbs shattering, and all eager to capture a moment that would go down in history.
But Ricky walked past them all with a calm composure, his gaze never faltering as he surveyed the crowd.
However, with everything swarming around him, his smile remained, knowing full well that today, the world had witnessed the rise of Ricky Luciano, not just a man, but an empire in the making.
BAM
“MR. LUCIANO, WHAT DOES THIS VICTORY MEAN FOR YOU!”
“DID YOU AT ALL EXPECT THIS!”
“WHAT DOES THIS MEAN NOT AS RICKY LUCIANO, BUT AS A MUTANT!”
The questions erupted the moment Ricky threw open the doors of the courthouse, flashes from cameras spiraling in every direction, all eyes fixed on him at the center of it all.
There was no hesitation, no retreat, only Ricky standing tall, arms spread wide, basking in the sweet, intoxicating taste of unbridled victory.
Ricky wasn’t the type of guy who was naturally great at planning, and he was still figuring out what it truly meant to lead.
But this victory? This felt different.
It was sweet in a way that only those who’ve worked tirelessly for something can understand.
Ricky had planned it all out, spoken confidently about his win, made every necessary arrangement, and then, when it mattered most, he won.
Raven stood to the side, a warm smile spreading across her face as she watched him.
She stood amidst the crowd, letting Ricky have his moment to relish in his victory, feeling a quiet sense of pride.
And then, as if drawn to her, his eyes found hers, and the connection between them was undeniable.
“No-”
“YES!” Ricky laughed, his voice full of triumph as he pushed through the crowd.
His eyes instantly locked onto Raven, recognizing her in disguise without a second thought and in one swift motion, he yanked her out of the crowd, a grin plastered on his face.
“R-Ricky, what are you doing!?” Raven hurriedly asked, anxious as she now stood amidst the barrage of camera flashes.
“Don’t tell me you thought for a second that I wasn’t going to blow this entire thing out of proportion?” Ricky whispered gently into Raven’s ear, his voice laced with playful mischief as he pulled her closer, forcing her to stand by his side amidst it all.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this beautiful and captivating woman is none other than Raven Darkholme, and she will be heading the foundation that I’m creating!” Ricky announced, his voice carrying across the area as he gestured toward her with a sweeping motion.
His smile widened as every pair of eyes in the crowd shifted to focus on her, the area buzzing with excitement at the unexpected reveal.
Ricky wanted to chain her by his side, but that meant more than just capturing her heart, it required the recognition of the people, the kind of support that would bind them in a way nothing else could.
This, Ricky knew, was the exact moment he’d been waiting for.
As the weight of the choice settled over Raven, she turned back toward him, her eyes locking with his, the green of his gaze steady and intense as he could see the conflict in her, the hesitation before she made her decision.
Sigh
With that soft exhale, Raven made her choice.
Raven stood taller in that moment, the air around her shifting with her white and blonde hair rippling in the wind, transitioning into a cascade of vibrant blue skin and fiery orange hair.
It was then that she revealed her true self to the world, standing proudly next to Ricky.
GASP
“A mutant!”
"Thanks, Captain Obvious!" Ricky called back to him, resting his hand on Raven's shoulder and giving it a gentle rub.
"Go on, tell me how much you adore and love me," Ricky whispered in her ear, earning a scoff from her, though she couldn't help but smile.
"I know none of you know me, and that’s fine, but I can assure all the mutants out there that I will pour everything I have into making this world just a little bit better for mutant kind. Thank you!" Raven announced, her voice strong and commanding as she then grabbed Ricky, pulling him towards the car, her grip firm as the crowd watched them leave.
“Wow, so powerful~” Ricky placed a hand over his heart, feigning being taken aback by her words, yet his face was adorned with a sleazy smile, clearly enjoying the attention.
“WAIT, MR. LUCIANO-”
“IS THAT MY LAWYER WHO MADE THIS ENTIRE WIN POSSIBLE, THURGOOD MARSHALL!” Ricky’s voice boomed across the crowd, dramatically pointing his finger towards Marshall as he walked out of the courthouse, essentially throwing him under the bus.
“Huh?” Marshall blurted, caught off guard as the reporters all turned their attention to him, then back to Ricky, who had already closed the door and was casually holding out his thumb in a mock salute.
“You did great, buddy!” Ricky yelled, slamming the door behind him as the car sped off.
Everyone froze as the hungry reporters slowly shifted their focus, zeroing in on Marshall, their cameras and microphones ready to pounce.
“W-Wait, WAIT!”
Meanwhile, in the speeding car, Asterion hummed a tune, tapping the steering wheel in rhythm.
Over the past few weeks, he'd grown to quite love driving, the motion of the road under his wheels offering a strange sense of freedom.
His fingers drummed along to the beat, a subtle but steady flow of contentment filling the air as the car sliced through the streets.
“Ow~” Ricky playfully said as Raven smacked him repeatedly, his laughter echoing through the car.
“Y-You’re a jerk, you set me up!” Raven blushed, her face flushed with a mix of frustration and embarrassment as she knew he was playing with her emotions and desires like a fiddle.
But despite her frustration, there was an undeniable pull, a part of her that couldn’t entirely resist him, and that realization only made her more vexed, along with annoyed
“I know, I know, I’m just the worst,” Ricky said, resting his head on her shoulder and pulling her closer, making Raven scoff, trying to push him off, but the closeness felt too familiar, too comfortable.
“But I’m your worst-”
“Alright, stop with the cheesy lines,” Raven said, pushing his face away as she struggled to hold back a laugh as Ricky, unfazed, kissed her palm.
“Seriously, did you really believe that I would hang you out to dry after all those sweet words.” Ricky asked, showing his smile in full view while placing her hand on his chin.
“Sweet words can be hollow-”
“Not mine and god did I fill them-”
“RICKY!” Raven blushed, smacking him playfully as he leaned forward, grinning mischievously before she fell back, looking up at him hovering above her being.
Her orange hair cascaded around her blushing face as Ricky's hands gently caressed her cheek, a warm and genuine smile spreading across his face.
“I’m sorry.” Ricky's voice softened, his words carrying sincerity.
Raven pursed her lips, a mix of frustration and understanding in her expression, before she let out a small sigh.
“I forgive you.” Raven murmured, her voice soft as Ricky leaned down, pressing a warm kiss to her lips as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“Uh Ricky, what should I do?” Asterion asked from the front seat, Ricky turning his eyes only for his head to jerk up.
There in front of him were numerous black cars blocking his path, but Ricky simply cracked a smile before leaning over and pecking Raven on the cheek.
“Take Raven back, I’ll meet you guys there.” Ricky patted Asterion’s shoulder, then opened the door while Raven glanced back, adjusting one of the laces on her dress as she watched him step out.
“Ricky, who is that?” Raven asked, her gaze shifting toward the figure without permission as Ricky adjusted his tie.
“The puppet master.” Ricky chuckled, leaving his words vague and cryptic as he closed the door behind him and walked forward.
The car at the center had its back window rolled down, and Ricky peered inside, locking eyes with the very man who had orchestrated everything that had led him to this moment.
“Mr. President, if it isn’t my honor to meet the man behind it all,” Ricky chuckled, leaning through the window to face Franklin, who merely gave him a cold, fleeting glance.
“Get in.”
Comments
Immaculate Fyre
Wrong Roosevelt
Drake
already need a new chapter, this is playing like a movie in my head that keeps getting interrupted by day long commercials D:
Rolando Mejia
Wooohoooo!!! Victory goes to the one with the biggest stick!
Unknown
Ricky Vs the fucking president huh. way sooner then i expected but i’m not complaining
Unknown
OMG THE PAINT COMMENT WAS GOLD
Sebastian
How do u miss a shot to call him teddy 🧸
Unknown
OHHH MY SCHEDULED PROGRAM IS BACK
