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hearsthephone · 2 years ago

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scribedhorror

It was nice to have a distraction despite the fact he knew it was temporary. Hearing about someone --- anything --- else was a relief. A place that wasn’t Derry, one that was far away in fact. He had been honest, however, when he said he wished he could have met Robin, Bill really did mean it. Finn was being thrust into his past, his childhood, the worst times of his life, all he could do in return was listen to the brunette’s stories. Try and picture it for himself. Like Finney had said, the Grabber was just a man, there would be no getting pulled back there by some supernatural timeline.

As the two of them curled up in bed it almost felt normal. Like they were back in their dormroom at Columbia. They could pretend for a little while.

“I’m glad-glad you get to hear him--- I’m suh-s-sorry he’s not here.” It wasn’t fair that Finn got to meet all his friends and yet Bill couldn’t do the same. The Losers and Robin would have gotten along, he was sure. Maybe one day they’d all get to meet Gwen.

Lips lifted at the corners, wondering what the hell kind of nickname that was. “Pinball Vance h-Hopper? Let me g-guess; he p-p-played a lot of pin-pinball?” Bill replied letting out a soft laugh. That would be like them calling Richie Street Fighter Richie Tozier. Trashmouth was far more concise. And accurate. That was where the comparison with the Losers’ loudmouth ended, though. Rich was smart, always had the best grades and fought more with his words than anything else. Vance sounded a lot more like Bowers.

“Th-there’s a reason we-we call him t-t-Trashmouth,” the shorter agreed, fingers reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind his boyfriend’s ear. “Seems l-like a tuh-terrible mix of Rich and b-b-Bowers.” Finney had had the displeasure of meeting the escaped convict-slash-mental patient. At least Patrick was gone and Bill didn’t have to explain that piece of work.

Nodding, his hand squeezed the brunette’s, tired blue eyes lighting up just a little at the prospect of the challenge. Something to keep their minds off of what they would need to face. “Should we-we give it a t-try?”

"Yeah, he played a lot of pinball. But however much you're picturing, triple that amount. I swear, whenever that kid wasn't fighting people he was playing pinball. Sometimes he fought people while playing pinball. Got arrested one time because someone bumped him and screwed up his high score and he had his knife on him." Whenever Vance was at the machine everyone else left him alone.

Finn nodded at the comparison. The altercation with Bowers was a nasty welcome into the town, and he could see the similarities. Maybe if he had grown up in Derry he would be like the convict.

"He was the one to figure out how to get them out of the basement," he said quietly. "They would've stayed there forever waiting for the place to get torn down, and they would've forgotten more of themselves." He smiled sadly and leaned into Bill's touch. "When ghosts get stuck in a liminal space like that, they lose themselves. Most of them didn't know their own names, even the ones who had been gone for months." Bruce's relieved laughter tore his heart in two. "Vance may have been an asshole, but he wasn't too much like Bowers. He actually has a moral compass."

He grins at Bill, excitement also perking him up. It was an interesting prospect, and if they succeeded it would definitely help. "Sure!" He clasped their hands together, looking his boyfriend in the eye.

"I'm not sure how it'll work with you, but when Gwen and I did it she pictured it like using a stethoscope. So maybe like that?"

scribedhorror

As the two of them curled up in bed it almost felt normal. Like they were back in their dormroom at Columbia. They could pretend for a little while.

Finn nodded at the comparison. The altercation with Bowers was a nasty welcome into the town, and he could see the similarities. Maybe if he had grown up in Derry he would be like the convict.

"I'm not sure how it'll work with you, but when Gwen and I did it she pictured it like using a stethoscope. So maybe like that?"

#scribedhorror #crossover verse: it

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bradtomlovesya · 3 years ago

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Ⓦⓗⓔⓝ ⓣⓗⓔ ⓢⓗⓞⓦ ⓔⓝⓓⓢ Pt. 2 (final)

Warnings: Smut +18!, fingering, bad words, orgasm denied, sub!reader, Dom!Brad, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Pic: @sash_maxwell on ig.

I woke up due to the light coming through the curtains and got up totally naked to close them and let Brad continue to sleep. I knew he was very tired from the concert and from our hectic session last night.

I bent down to pick up my pantyhose lying on the floor of the room and put them on. I also took the red shirt that had started all of this in the first place and put it on just by buttoning a few buttons.

I turned my head to see Brad peacefully asleep. Today I had the day off so I tried not to make too much noise so as not to wake him up and so that he could get enough rest while I made some coffee. In the hotel room there was only a bed with a nightstand on each side, a three-seater sofa next to the balcony with a coffee table in front of it, a dining-type table and two chairs around it. On the little table next to the sofa there was a coffee machine and complimentary coffee so I decided to take advantage of it and prepare some fresh coffee for when he woke up.

I was preparing the coffee when minutes later his arms around my waist made me jump slightly with fright.

"Fuck! Bradley." I tried to catch my breath. "You scared me." I put a hand to my chest.

"I'm sorry honey." He said hoarsely and a giggle left his lips. "I didn't want to scare you." He flicked my hair to the side and placed a kiss on my neck that sent a huge electric current through my body.

I turned on my heel and wrapped my arms around his neck. "It's okay." I left a short kiss on his lips. "I woke you up?"

"No." He responded with his raspy voice and shook his head causing some of his unruly curls to fall across his forehead. "I patted next to me but you weren't there so I opened my eyes and guess what I saw?" He bit his lip with a smile.

"What did you see?" I asked with the same smile.

He leaned close to my ear and his lips brushed my earlobe. "I saw you wearing my shirt." He kissed right at that soft spot behind my lobe and took me by the thighs and walked with me to leave me sitting on the table. "It looks so fucking good on you. I could swear the thoughts that haunt my head of the things I want to do to you right now are not healthy at all." He spread my legs, making me gasp. "Can I do the dirty things I'm thinking of doing to you?" He directed his eyes to mine and I could see that they were only his pupils. They were full of desire.

"Brad ..." I gasp. "You just woke up, how can you think about that?" I laughed slightly.

"It's your fault." He spoke seriously. "It's entirely your fault for wearing my shirt, Y/n." He crossed his arms. His expression was one of pure seriousness. "So now all I think about is fucking that cute pussy right against this table while you still have my shirt on so you think about your actions." He clicked his tongue. "However, you know that your consent is important so I need you to say yes."

I beat my eyelids over my white skin not believing what I was hearing. I felt the moisture slide back between my folds and, when I regained consciousness, I moved my lips "Yes, it is a yes, Love." I nodded quickly. My cunt throbbed to feel him inside me again.

"Good because I wasn't going to take no for an answer" He unfolded his arms and took a step towards me. "You shouldn't have worn my shirt if you weren't up for me to fuck you hard, right?" I was silent but he took my face between his fingers for me to speak. "Words, darling. That little mouth isn't just for sucking my cock. Use it to talk."

"Yes, I wanted that when you saw me with your shirt on, you wanted to fuck me" I replied in something a little louder than a murmur.

"Already knew." He released my face. "I just wanted you to accept it" he ran his index finger between my breasts until he finished on my pantyhose. "Look at that pretty face with a fucking perverted mind." He laughed hoarsely and pressed my clit a little with his finger over the fabric making me moan. "Awww, Love." He pouted. "Look how desperate you are for me to touch you."

"Bradley, please stop teasing me and playing with me." I begged. "Please just come into me." I tried to put my hands on the elastic of his boxer to lower it but he stopped me.

"Don't even think for a fucking second that this is about you and what you want." He rudely denied. "This is about me and how much I'm going to enjoy fucking you so fucking hard that all the people in this hotel will know your moans and the name of the person causing them." He put his hand under my underwear and patted my cunt. "So damn wet!" He grunted. He slipped two of his fingers into me without warning and jerked them against my walls that tightened at the feel of him. "Always so tight, my pretty little doll." He curled his fingers reaching up to my G-spot making me scream his name. "It doesn't even look like I had fuck that pretty pussy just last night."

"Brad!" I groaned loudly and threw my head back. "I'm sorry, I really ... Ah!" Another moan as he entered another finger and moved violently causing a series of obscene and delicious sounds that filled the room.

"Alright, I think that pretty vagina is ready to receive me" He pulled his fingers out and moved his finger in circles over my clit causing more moisture to flow down my pussy.

"Yes ... I'm ready" I answered between gasps with my eyes closed and tight. His finger kept moving and sending currents at my most sensitive nerve point. The brown haired boy made a little more pressure and, just as I was about to cum, he withdrew his finger from me making the feeling go away.

"You won't feel it until I decide you should." He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. "Always so sweet." He smiled grimly. "Get off the table." He ordered and so I did. "It's time to fuck that cute cunt that only belongs to me" He put his hands on my hips and turned me around. He pushed my back down so my chest was pressed against the table and lifted his shirt off my body only until my ass was exposed. "Do you know what girls get when they misbehave?" He asked me.

"Spanking?" I asked with my cheek pressed against the hard, cold surface of the table's wood. My breathing was erratic, he had already denied me a precious orgasm so I just had to be good to him for him to give me a new one.

"How smart you are, my girl" He came over and placed a kiss on my head. "That's right, spanking." He pressed his hand against the cheek of my butt with force causing a great sound of. Smack!

"You know you should not misbehave" Another spanking with more force than the previous one but on the other side. My ass right now was totally red and the feeling was burning.

And so the spankings came one after the other until they added ten and He decided that had been enough.

"Now what should you say?" He ran his palm up my butt admiring his previous work.

"Thank you Sir." I answered between gasps and wedging my nails around the edges of the table to withstand the heat. Brad got down on his knees and left several kisses on my ass cheeks to make them stop hurting a bit and it worked. "Thank you" I repeated.

"You're welcome, darling" He lowered my underwear, ran the stitch of his crotch over my folds to smear it with a bit of my moisture and seconds later he completely sank into me with one blow making me scream. "Fuck! How good you feel" his hands went to my waist to support himself. "Can I continue?" He asked me leaving a kiss on my back over the fabric of his red shirt.

"Yes, you can ..." I inhaled deeply. "You can continue." Just as I responded, I felt his hips go back and then forward to push himself fully into me, making me whimper. “Fucking hell, Brad!” I yell/moan.

His hips moved in and out of me with needed speed. I didn't think it was possible but he was moving with more force and speed every time. The table legs were grinding against the floor, but we were so caught up in our own pleasure that we didn't care. One of his hands went down until it reached my clitoris and thus began to stimulate me with enough speed and pressure to make me see stars and feel that sensation again in the lower part of my stomach. This, combined with the moans, grunts and obscenities that left Brad's mouth were driving me straight into ecstasy and he noticed it.

His dick tightened me in the only way he knew how and they stimulated all my essential points to transform all possible pain into pleasure. We fit together so well that I could feel the veins of his cock on my walls. I squeezed my vagina earning a growl from him because I knew he loved that. "Cum on my dick, darling. Come on princess" He made a little more pressure on my clit and his thrusts did not lower the force but became sloopy giving me to understand that he was about to finish too.

"Holy shit! Bradley!" I moaned his name and my legs felt like jelly. My walls closed against his member, leading him to cum inside me as well, painting my walls as his. "Ahh!" I moaned again feeling his come and his hands went to my waist to keep me from collapsing on the ground.

"Fu-ck!" He collapsed on my back and I could feel the sweat on his forehead dampening the fabric of the shirt. "I said I would fuck you with my shirt on and I did." He laid to leave a kiss on my back and his hand went up and down my leg.

"That's right," I nodded trying to normalize my breathing. "I love this shirt" I laughed slightly and felt the vibrations of his laughter on my back. "Babe, I really love you but please get off me, that's overstimulation." I bit my lip.

"Yes, of course" He withdrew his member from inside me with a giggle. I felt myself whimper at the emptiness. "I'm sorry, I just love being there" He held me in his arms and walked with me to the bathroom. "Did I hurt you?" He left me sitting on the edge of the tub.

“No, you’re really careful even when you’re being rude to me” I took his hand and kissed his lips “Come here, let’s take a relaxing bath.” I start filling the tube.

“It would be a pleasure” He leaned to help me take off his shirt and smiled while doing it. “What the fuck do this shirt has that make us so fucking horny?” He laughed.

“I don’t know, babe” I laughed loudly. “I don’t know but let’s use it more often”

#brad simpson smut #bradleysimpson #brad simpson #brad simpson imagine #bradleywillsimpson #the vamps imagines #the vamps #connor ball #bradley simpson #bradley simpson smut #the vamps smut #fanfics

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sunskate · 2 years ago

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Lake Placid ID Int'l Seniors 2022:

Lorraine McNamara/Anton Spirodinov 🥇 (WISA): RD George Michael Careless Whisper; Ile Axe, Batucada

FD Rain in Your Black Eyes

Felt like they were inspired by Green Parsons FD from last year to do something in that vein, but less modern dance. I saw her compete in Lake Placid 2019 with her former partner and liked that she had a quirky vibe that didn't feel like anyone else. Last year felt like major growing pains for a new partnership, so it was good to see them do well here. He had a twizzle error in the FD, and I think there was one in the RD as well. They put a Latin beat underneath Careless Whisper in the RD but it still felt a bit disjointed with the other piece

Eva Pate/Logan Bye 🥈 (Novi) : RD: Barbatuques, Beautiful; Jamie Foxx, Fly Love; Real in Rio

FD Riverdance, Reel Around the Sun

Igor so often gives his teams music which was used kind of indelibly by another team- the last number of this RD is Lajoie/Lagha's bird FD from last year

The FD is a crowdpleaser, a good vehicle for them - they don't yet have the independence between their feet and that quiet upper body that Irish step dancing has but looking forward to seeing how this evolves in style and precision as the season goes on

Katarina Wolfkostin/Jeffrey Chen 🥉(MIDA): RD: Watazu, Samba Lagoa; Juls, Summer in the Ends

FD Florence + the Machine, Light of Love, Dog Days are Over

They won the RD, but judge #4 from Australia had it out for them- Judge #1 gave them 8.25 for Composition, but Judge #4 gave them 6.25. She scored them a good point lower than any other judge in every category. How does this work, does Charlie or one of the people there from USFS go raise a stink? Because Judge #4's scores were more in line with the rest of the panel for the FD. Side note that Charlie seems so happy- he was laughing at the boards a lot and was upbeat every time I saw him

Emily Bratti/Ian Somerville (MIDA): RD: Club Des Belugas, Gadda Rio; Millaway, Butterfly; Club Des Belugas, Hiphip Chinchin

FD LaLa Land: Another Day of Sun, A Lovely Night, Someone in the Crowd

This FD music felt like a smart choice, light and bright and a good fit for them. parking was a nightmare the first day, and he gave me his parking spot and was nice about it lol he looked familiar but didn't recognize him until the RD (hiphip chin chin!)

Haley Sales/Nikolas Wamsteeker (IAM.O): RD: Pink Martini, Quizas, Quizas, Quizas; Pink Martini, Ohayoo Ohio

FD Phantom of the Opera, Josh Groban/Kelly Clarkson All I Ask of You, and soundtrack

I know Phantom's a warhorse, but it's so good to see them skating to something big that builds and has impact. Felt like this will help them in their fight to move up in Canada. They don't lack intensity, but sometimes their music choices feel too low key. Like their RD music felt puzzlingly flat, and like Billie Eilish last year, was harder to pull off because it doesn't give them enough energy - it's kind of sultry and sophisticated in the sound, but it didn't pop in the rink, which is a shame, because the RD has some striking elements, like the lift. maybe it will grow through the season, but bigger music helps them

Mariia Nosovitskaya/Michael Nosovitsky: FD Edith Piaf: La Vie en Rose, Padam Padam, Milord

Lily Hensen/Nathan Lickers (IAM.O): RD: Afro Cuban All Stars, Amor Verdadero; Bueno Vista Social Club, Chan Chan; El Rubio Loco, Salsaton

FD Hozier, Work Song and Movement

The song the fandom speculated VM would skate to in RTR, here it is😭

Elysia-Marie Campbell/Liam Fawcett: RD: Karol G, Punto G; Chanel, SloMo (Eurovision Dancebreak Edit)

FD Sleeping Beauty

love a classical program - there weren't that many in the competitions

Samantha Ritter/Daniel Brykalov (IAM.O): RD: Santana, Black Magic Woman; Santana, El Farol; Santana feat. Mana, Corazon Espinado

FD Harry Styles, She

They're both tall and long limbed - was wondering if Madi Hubbell might be very helpful to them since she and Zach are a tall team as well

Jenna Hertenstein/Damian Binkowski (WISA): RD: Shakira, Chantaje; DJ Luc14no Antileo, Reggaeton Old School; Lecenzo, Danza Kuduro

FD Artem Uzunov, Unio Mystica; Brandon Fiechter, Sands of Arabia; Yasal Akpence, Last Harem

#figure skating #lake placid id int'l 2022 #scott giving lily/nathan a movement program

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years ago

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Nightwing 83 Review

guess who isn't weeks late this time. my opinion of the series is going up a little bit. it's still not great, but i'm not actively put off by it anymore the way i was after 81. not going to tag as spoilers, but be warned that they are under the cut

i’m sure you all are well aware of this but now, but dear god i love bruno redondo’s art. like, an unhealthy amount. the pink and blue is getting to be a theme with either him or just this run, but i am definitely enjoying it. the movement in this cover is clearly obvious, but well done. you recoznize right off the bat that the cover was drawn to drag your eyes down the page until you get to the bottom, but you enjoy the whole ride there.

also, redondo’s way of drawing a character in stages of action so we can see just how much they’re doing in a split second of movement is quickly becoming something i like to see drawn with dick, and any other character that has that sort of ease of movement and body sense, like cass or sin or maybe a super.

and he’s in action the entire time! there’s shot drawn just to show off a shirtless comic book character, the way nightwing is so often subjected to. he’s shirtless because he’s changing his clothes, and that’s all we see, no more and no less. very practical, very well done. i like it.

he looks so cute right here oh my god. the little squint, the hair curls. it’s adorable.

but also like. unless melinda has specifically outfitted the door spyhole so that the person on the other side can’t see dick looking through it (and in all honesty she might have) then everyone on the other side can see dick looking through that door.

bringing your attention back to the “i can’t see melinda’s fbi file oh no!! it’s redacted!! whatever can we do!!” stupidity. redacted files are child’s play for oracle, and definitely doable for both dick and bruce. so that’s bullshit.

now, melinda apparently grew up with the maroni family, then took down part of the family from the inside. the maroni family is a large and notable presence in gotham, one that bruce pays a respectable amount of attention to. he definitely would have grown suspicious when two members of the maroni family were taken down, and with some investigation, he would have discovered melinda’s plan. and it should go without saying that the majority of things you see batman doing? dick can do it too.

it’s not so much that i don’t like how clever the villains/antiheroes are getting. i don’t like how dc heroes are increasingly written as less intelligent. they seem to be relying on pure fighting skills or luck, which may be the case for a couple heroes, but has never been the case for most of dc’s big name heroes, the bat family included. it’s irritating to me to see this sort of stuff pop up as a major plot point when i know that, if dick or bruce had been written with the amount of skill and power that they canonically possess, this entire mess would have been sorted out years ago.

unrelated but dick and melinda have the same hair

this may just be me, but i was always under the impression that dick doesn’t really have a “double life???”

yes, he’s talented enough to create enough differences between robin/nightwing and dick grayson’s mannerisms, way of movement, voices, and speech patterns so that it’s very difficult to put the two together.

but nightwing has never been separate from dick grayson, not the way bruce and batman is. he’s always leaned more towards clark in that aspect: his hero persona is an exaggerated, stately, larger-than-life version of who he really is. there’s no second persona, no real “dick grayson identity” and “nightwing identity.” they’re the same person with the same goals, ideas, and skills. one just pretends to abide by the law, and one gives up pretense of that.

oh good thank god. if he’d trusted her right off the bat (hehe. bat.) i would have slapped him upside the head. at least he’s still got instincts.

gosh the colouring on this is cool. the red has enough purple and pink tones to it that it doesn’t abruptly ruin the tone of the artwork. but it’s definitely glaring enough to take the reader outside of this personal moment they had slipped into between dick and melinda, to put them back in the present where they’re reminded that oh yea there are people hunting dick down.

the next panel keeps this up too, in a less severe way. melinda’s bodyguard shows up (i forgot her name sorry :[ ) and subtly places us in the middle of an action scene rather than a private, personal scene.

laughing so fucking hard have our little vigilantes grown so accustomed to breaking into places that it doesn’t even register as a crime anymore??? tim coming in through the fire escape to pick bernard up for their date and being very much confused as to why bernard is freaking out.

i really like melinda’s shirt and now despite all the work i have to do and the fucking conference i have to host on monday i want to spend hours scrolling through clothing shops online trying to find this shirt. the mock neck/neckline is so cool i want it

so roland just assumes that a very dangerous vigilante who is highly talented in combat and a very dangerous bodyguard who is also highly talented in combat had a fight that ended with this very dangerous bodyguard being tied up and she looks completely fine? roland just assumes that her having no visible wounds or bruises means that they got into a fight and she lost that easily? uh. aight then

dick what are you doing. legitimately what the fuck are you doing. why are you posing oh my god. you are injured and tired and in absolutely no position to go hand to hand with one of main enemies. jesus christ run away or head to lower ground or something. don’t just stand around letting the floodlights show exactly where you are.

i don’t understand what he’s trying to do here??? blockbuster fully bought the story that dick fought them both, won, tried to get info out of them and failed, then hightailed it out of there. he didn’t have to draw roland out for a fight.

but it does look cool. the way the light just highlights his silhouette and the blue parts of his costume does look badass. he does get style points in my book for this.

w h a t d i d i f u c k i n g t e l l y o u , d i c k ?

very classic superhero line and it does sound like something dick would say in a fit of righteous rage but also it makes me laugh so hard because all vigilantes think they’re so powerful that the law doesn’t apply to them. dick vigilantism is illegal. you’re acting above the law and pretending it doesn’t apply to you. hypocritical much?

it happens so often in superhero movies, tv shows, comics, whatever and it makes me giggle every damn time.

pretty decent comeback but before i start seeing people writing blockbuster as a thug i’m going to remind you that he made a deal with a demon for genius level intellect. if this turns into another bane situation i’m going to be a little miffed. he’s a smart man, which makes him a dangerous and infinitely more interesting enemy for nightwing.

this is so horribly in character i want to scream. (or. at least. it lines up with one of the versions of nightwing i have in my head.) he’s running right towards the bullets, miraculously doesn’t get shot, while making a sort-of pun. i hate this so much. i love him.

this is cool. this art is really really cool.

he leaped from a building right towards a helicopter that’s actively shooting at him, but none of the bullets are touching him. none of the corruption of the city can touch him no matter how hard it tries, because he’s too good to be corrupted. Comic Book Logic Can Be Good Sometimes Actually.

batman’s belt what??? swiss army knife who?? sorry, i only know nightwing’s bright blue escrima.

this is one of my favourite things about heroes with exceptional abilities, even more so if the hero is human. the things they can do are so far beyond the realm of normal human abilities that it’s equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring every time they act.

he just used modified grappling wires to hook to the door of a moving helicopter, swung around the helicopter safely without hitting the blades, gained exactly the right momentum to swing upward again right through the opening of helicopter, then fought and tied up the men before they had any idea what was happening. that’s near impossible to do.

it’s stuff like this where i just sort of sigh in contentment. no matter how many times they leave out dick’s detective skills or conveniently forget that he’s actually a master planner and team leader and make him out to be this forgetful dude who makes everything up on the fly because of his “circus roots,” at least they won’t ever take away dick’s sheer physical ability honed to perfection.

the art, too! in a few panels, dick’s drawn a little lightened or blurred. he’s moving so quickly and fighting so efficiently that he can barely be seen by the enemy. he’s got perfect form all the way through.

and THIS!

there was a helicopter that had five men shooting at him with what looks like machine guns. most people would be dead. some would run away, and be nimble enough to survive without fatal hits. there are very few people, even in fucking comic books, who can look at that hopeless situation and turn it around so quickly and thoroughly that he benefits from it instead.

i just. love nightwing.

it was funny the first time as a comic reader aware of the meme. it’s really not anymore. why the hell would you, in universe, be wearing a shirt that has a picture of your boyfriend being hit in the face by his father.

okay that was funny.

look at lil bitewing, so concerned for her human!!! love her sm.

also a question as to the timeline of things. is nightwing happening before or after urban legends?

i was so distracted by dick wearing a robe and briefs and nothing else that i didn’t register the second part until later. he slept for two days?? babs, baby, he recently had a very traumatic brain injury. why do you sound so nonchalant?

@TIM X COFFEE SHIPPERS GET FUCCCCKKKKEEDDDDD

ngl i totally forgot about that dude oops

this comic is giving so many reaction pictures. you know how you always use the worst possible picture of your friend for your friend’s contact picture? i’m just getting so many of these.

leslie!!! the titans!!! lucius!!! dick going to go see old friends!!!! the titans!!! this part made me so irrationally happy it really did. gar being the one to just. offer dick solutions with open arms. this was the best

i wish i could just copy and paste this entire scene, but that would take up way too much space, so i’m just going to talk about it instead.

you gave me my name, nightwing, and you gave me some of the best advice i’ve received in my life: beautiful little throwback to nightwing’s origin. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who don’t know where the name came from, or who don’t know how much clark means to dick. and the fact that dick still looks up to clark as a hero, recognizes that clark isn’t always perfect and yet continues to hold him in such high esteem, and still looks back on advice that clark gave him fondly just warmed my heart so much.

for a man who has fearlessly stood up to darkseid, bruce will do a lot to avoid a conversation: “grrr. i’m the BATMAN. i’m so DARK and MYSTERIOUS. nobody knows the true me. no one ever will. i will be LONELY for the rest of my CURSED LIFE. such is the price of a hero. ignore my farmer himbo husband in the background”

but i don’t think there’s anything heroic about being a billionaire: another nod to how much dick follows clark’s example rather than bruce. yes, this was a very poignant and important criticism, and i think it’s wonderful that this was published in a pretty popular comic book. but the thing is, there is a way to be a heroic billionaire, but only in fictional universes. the way bruce, ollie, t’challa only ever use their wealth to help people. they donate massive amounts of money to charities that they themselves create so they know exactly how the money is being used. they hire people who aren’t likely to get jobs anywhere else and pay them much more than what a base living wage is. they use their power to help push progressive laws and social change. they are helping.

dick doesn’t fully see it that way. he spent more than half his childhood the son of a billionaire, but still believes that one could be more heroic when one doesn’t have obscene amounts of wealth. whose example do you think he followed to come to that conclusion?

superman looked up to alfred pennyworth?: i mean yea alfred may have been a wildly irresponsible guardian and one hell of an enabler but goddamn if he didn’t love his kid.

you don’t need my input. you’ve thought it all through: ooooooh this line made me grin. for so long, dick’s treated clark as a mentor and a guiding figure. he’s still seen as a kid, an up and coming, snot-nosed titan with dreams of a better world. clark still thinks of him as a kid, despite watching him grow up. but this little line was something i think dick needed sorely to hear. he doesn’t need anyone’s guiding hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to ask for permission. he doesn’t need clark to support him the way he did when he was a teenager. he’s all grown up now, and he doesn’t need clark’s help. i imagine it was a bit of a surprise for dick to hear that.

honestly, i couldn’t think of a better role model: ohhh but it doesn’t stop there. clark just straight up turns the tables on dick. imagine you’re dick, and you’ve looked up to this one hero your entire life, and then one day he turns to you and says that he thinks you’re so kind and smart and worthy of a person that he wants you to mentor his son!? goes to show just how much clark trusts dick.

i swear to god dick probably cries every time he hears clark compliment him because bruce is so rare and sparing with his praise that clark giving him the slightest hint of approval is just a dopamine rush.

also, now deathstroke and superman have both asked nightwing to mentor their kids. the juxtaposition is fuckin hysterical. imagine either of their reactions when they realize what kind of company they’re with

lets talk colours for a second, because i absolutely adore how classic colour tropes have been subverted in this comic, and in this general run really.

warm tones have usually (usually, not always) been associated with light and comfort and friendship and,,,,,well,,,warmth. whereas cool tones are usually used to unsettle, or make a scene seem colder and put the reader on edge. this varies if a comic only uses cool tones, or only uses warm tones, but if a comic uses both, this is generally well-used.

that isn’t the case in this run.

dark red, orange, and other warm tones have been used to symbolize danger, action, attacks. hot pink isn’t usually included in this colour group, but it’s definitely part of it in this case. in contrast, scenes that have cool colours give us the impression of slipping into a comfortable, calm scene with babs, tim, the titans, and other allies. even the beginning scene with superman has this blue, but then it transitions into something more golden coloured. dawn broke over dick, as his new idea came to light, and that was reflected in the art (and the sunrise setting.)

have there ever been times when dick’s longed for the comfort of his mask because he didn’t feel confident as dick grayson? i can’t think of any. i may be wrong, but this struck me as pretty ooc.

am i just??? gay and reading this all wrong??

cause i was under the impression that when someone says they are grateful for your friendship you don’t immediately kiss them.

or is this like. normal straight mating rituals.

i mean he’s smiling afterward but still babs aren’t you supposed to at least make sure it’s okay first? you guys broke up a while back after you said something along the lines of “i want to be coworkers with you and nothing more because i don’t trust you or feel comfortable around you as a civilian anymore.” like lmao after you say something like that to someone i would assume that you don’t have the permission to just kiss them whenever you want.

show of hands who else got real sad when they realized dick was talking about himself in this.

sure, he could be referencing the things he’s seen blockbuster pull, and the children on the streets. but “i’ve seen money used for enforcement,” sounds a little too close to dick’s entire life being destroyed by one man threatening the circus to pay protection money for me to completely ignore. and “i’ve seen the poorest and most vulnerable blamed and punished rather than assisted” becomes a lot worse when you remember dick was thrown in juvie for a couple months until bruce was able to obtain legal guardianship, and in there, not a authority figure believed him when he told them his parents were murdered.

he’s lived this before.

a. mother. fucking. typo.

fucking why

i mean i’ve stated my distaste for the batfamily groupchat before but like. this is reaching new levels of ridiculousness. jason sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. tim sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. steph sounds like she was written by someone who doesn’t know the first thing about steph and wanted to include her for “family points!!!!!” damian’s supposed to be completely off the grid, and everyone’s searching for him. i do love the way cass texts tho.

well god fuck now i’m crying

dick got a phone call, a sorry, and a thank you out of bruce. i feel so much secondhand happiness for him, if that’s a thing. we’ll just ignore the way bruce looks ugly af and focus on the good parts okay?

and again with the colour symbolism here!

i’m either going to love this or hate this. who knows, we’ll see.

something something hearts something something pink is an evil colour something something. i need to know more about this guy but there’s definitely symbolism there.

is it just me or does this dude look like the backstabbing traitorous absolutely motherfucking piece of shit villain that killed tadashi hamada in big hero 6?

taggggg list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @comics-observer @buticaaba

#river thinks too hard #nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing 83 #dc #nightwing review #nightwing meta #dick grayson review #dick grayson meta #nightwing 83 review #nightwing 83 meta #dc review #dc meta

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bi-naesala · 4 years ago

Text

Cody gets taken care of

The measure of one's worth can't be measured by how useful they are. Despite the work Cody has put into trying to learn this, some habits die hard. Luckily for him, there are plenty of people that care about him and will make sure that he's well taken care of.

(Also on AO3)

Obi-Wan’s having tea in his quarters, enjoying a rare peaceful day on board of the Resolute, when he hears someone knocking on his door.

“Sir?” a familiar voice says. “It’s Waxer and Boil.”

Hearing that, Obi-Wan has the impression that his free peaceful time is about to be cut short. Knowing their troublemaker tendencies, he can only assume they must’ve done something - either that or they need a place to hide from Cody’s wrath.

“Come in,” he says then, already bracing himself.

When the two step inside, he understands that his worries might be exaggerated: they wouldn’t be this calm if they actually did something - especially Boil, who always gets angry at Waxer for dragging him into his nonsense.

“Something’s wrong?” he asks.

“Sir,” Waxer begins, “We’d like to talk to you about Cody.”

“What about Cody?” Obi-Wan asks, slightly worried now. Did something happen?

“He’s doing it again.”

“Ah…”

Damn it.

It’s a habit that, as far as Obi-Wan can tell, Cody has always had: he’d get up, one day, and decide that he doesn’t need sleep anymore, taking a workload of datapads and other jobs in the meantime, uncaring of his personal health.

At first Obi-Wan didn’t think it was that bad, but that’s only because Cody, the rascal, had been smart enough not to work when he was around, but as they’ve grown closer, he’s been able to see just how bad this kind of behavior can be.

It’s a reminiscence of Kamino, captain Rex told him in private once: the damned Kaminiise have drilled inside his brain that he will be sent back if he doesn’t make himself useful, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Obi-Wan would never do something like that, less than anything because he’s not useful enough; he’d never dream about quantifying the worth of anyone just based on something like that, and he knows for a fact that there are plenty of people who share this kind of view.

These last campaigns have taken a toll on all of them; they have suffered terrible losses. Obviously Cody feels responsible for them and feels the need to make amends somehow.

It’s a feeling that Obi-Wan understands well: they both have to deal with it, but he’s not going to let all the work he and the rest of the troopers have done to make Cody unlearn this behavior go to waste, not if he can help it, which is exactly what he intends to do.

He needs to find Cody.

Thankfully, finding him isn’t hard; Obi-Wan expected to find him at the bridge, and that’s exactly how it goes.

Cody isn’t even doing anything at the moment, just surveying everything with arms crossed to his chest, but there’s one particular that feels weird: he’s wearing his bucket, as if he knows his face doesn’t look that great and that someone would come to him questioning his health if they saw it. He must think he’ll get away with it because he outranks all his brothers, so nobody will dare approaching him, but he hasn’t considered that it isn’t so for Obi-Wan, and that he will approach him.

“There he is, sir,” Waxer points out, Boil on his trail. “What do we do?”

“Just be ready to catch his bucket, and keep an eye out while the commander rests,” Obi-Wan replies, turning to the trooper and winking at him. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Despite Cody definitely not being in any condition to sense his approach, Obi-Wan still moves carefully, not making a single sound, then, once he’s close enough, he taps Cody’s shoulder. As soon as he turns around, he immediately snatches the bucket out of his head, tossing it to Waxer, who promptly catches it.

Indeed those are two big bags under Cody’s eyes. He looks like he might pass out at any given moment.

“G-General?” Cody stutters, taken by surprise but such an attack.

“Come on, my dear, let’s go,” Obi-Wan tells him, trying to pull his arm in order to make him follow him - of course, he only pulls just a bit, not wanting to hurt him. “Everything’s taken care of. The ship won’t fall apart just because you’re resting.”

“But--”

Obi-Wan feared that Cody wasn’t going to budge, which is exactly what is happening as the commander has the courage to try and assure him that he’s fine - lie - and well rested - even bigger lie. He needs to do something dramatic, something that will make Cody unable to retort.

He sighs, metaphorically rolling the sleeves of his robes up - if he actually did so they would’ve just rolled down again immediately - and he grabs Cody by the waist, hoisting him up on his shoulder, using the Force to keep himself steady - just because Cody’s wearing his armor, or else he wouldn’t have had any problem at all.

“Sir?!”

Cody’s shouting now, face flushed from the embarrassment - it doesn’t help that a few chuckles are beginning to be heard, only to stop when people realize who exactly they’re laughing at, though Boil seems to be having a hard time keeping his face straight.

“See? Your men will keep everything under control. They’ve got you covered,” Obi-Wan says then.

Despite that, Cody still tries to kick with his legs in order to break free, but he doesn’t manage to do it. It helps that he also doesn’t want to hurt Obi-Wan, so even his kicks are pretty light all things considered.

“Sir, please!” he tries again then, but Obi-Wan doesn’t let him down. Actually, after bidding goodbye to Waxer and Boil, he begins to walk away.

“Obi-Wan! What the kriff?!” Cody tries again, abandoning all sorts of formality.

Still no answer.

Obi-Wan gets halfway towards his personal quarters when he finally speaks:

“If I let you down, are you going to follow me, or are you going to run away? Think carefully about your response.”

What’s even the point of escaping now, Cody thinks: it’s not like at least half the ship hasn’t seen them, and knowing how prone to gossip his own men are, it’s safe to assume that everyone in the galaxy will know about this. He would even be willing to bet that someone must’ve also sneaked a holo picture or two - traitors, the lot of them.

Still, Obi-Wan carrying him so nonchalantly is something unexpected but also not unpleasant. It’s making Cody a bit hot all over, actually.

“It depends, will you give me a head start?” he asks then, smirk on his face that becomes something softer when he hears Obi-Wan chuckle. It’s something that rarely happens as of late; well, that’s not entirely true, but Cody is talking about his real laugh, not the fake one he usually forces himself to make.

“You’re incorrigible,” Obi-Wan says, keeping walking, with apparently no intentions of dropping Cody, who is quickly to try to make amends for his mistake.

“I was kidding! Obi-Wan, please!”

That makes the Jedi stop; he must be considering it. Eventually he sighs, letting down Cody, who stumbles as soon as his feet touch the ground. If Obi-Wan hadn’t caught him, he would’ve fallen.

… Ok, maybe he should’ve kept being carried, but it’s too late for that. His pride wouldn’t handle it if he asks Cody to take him in his arms again, no matter how much more comfortable that would be.

Luckily for him, they’re not too far off the general’s quarters… Wait, the general’s quarters?

“What exactly are we doing, here?” Cody asks, almost panicking. Obi-Wan soothes the worries away by kissing his forehead.

“I’m going to prepare you a bath, getting you all nice and relaxed, then you’re going straight to bed,” he replies.

“A-A bath?” Cody asks, looking at Obi-Wan like he’s suddenly grown a second head. This is new for him.

“Yes, a bath. Trust me, it will help,” Obi-Wan promises as he helps him to his quarters. Baths aren’t something he usually indulges on while he’s on the ship, not wanting to waste this much water, but he figures the rest of the men will forgive him if he does it this time. It’s for their commander after all.

Once they step inside his quarters, Obi-Wan closes the door behind them, locking it. If there’s any emergency, he’s sure they’d comm him rather than trying to get here anyway.

He helps Cody settle on his bed, so he can rest here while he prepares a bath; the commander looks like he’s going to pass out at any moment, and Obi-Wan would rather have him do it on the comfort of a bed rather than on the ground - that wouldn’t be a pleasant experience at all, he knows it.

“Can you manage to stay awake for another while?” he asks, softly, caressing his hair. He can’t help but to smile at the way Cody leans into the touch.

“I’ve managed until now, I can do for a few more minutes,” he replies then. Still, when Obi-Wan pulls away, he can’t help but to be displeased: he was really getting into it!

“Hush,” Obi-Wan mutters, sensing it, kissing the top of his head, “You’ll get your cuddles later, I promise.”

Cody hums at those words, smiling. Yes, he’d like that very much.

Once Obi-Wan leaves his view, however, he realizes that keeping his eyes open is getting harder by the second, especially now that there’s nobody paying attention to him and can distract him.

Still, he tries his best to keep himself awake, not wanting to miss what Obi-Wan’s preparing for him. He tries to focus of the sound of running water then, but if anything that has the opposite effect of the one Cody was hoping it was going to have, causing him to get even closer to falling asleep.

His head slowly begins to fall down, only for Cody to snap to attention as soon as he notices it. If he had free rein to leave, he would’ve gotten himself some caf - Obi-Wan insists on keeping only a tea brewer in his room no matter how hard Cody insists on him getting a caf machine as well - but he doesn’t trust himself to walk all the way to get some. Besides, he doubts Obi-Wan would let him leave the room in the first place.

Thankfully, it’s not too long before he hears Obi-Wan’s steps approaching him.

“Sorry it took so long,” he apologizes, helping Cody up. “Here we go.”

As they step inside the fresher, Cody is immediately greeted by a flowery smell, though he’s not able to discern exactly what caused it.

“What’s this?” he asks then, turning his head towards Obi-Wan.

“The smell?” the Jedi asks. “Oh, just some scented oils I’ve found at the market.”

Despite everything, Cody can’t help but to raise an eyebrow at him. Since when does he go around buying scented oils and such? Well, he supposes anything is better than tea - he already has way too much of that.

“They’re supposed to help with meditation,” Obi-Wan says, but after a pause he can’t help but to admit: “And I was also waiting for a… special occasion to use them.”

Special occasion?

“And you’re wasting them for me?”

Obi-Wan’s gaze softens at those words.

“It’s not a waste if it’s for you,” he mutters, taking Cody’s face between his hands and gently pressing their foreheads together. Cody can’t hold back a smile.

“Alright, then let’s try it.”

Thanks to Obi-Wan, the undressing process is way less sloppy than it would’ve been otherwise - Cody isn’t doing great in the coordination department right now - and once he’s completely bare, he steps inside the tub.

He’s immediately welcomed by a sense of warm torpor that immediately spreads over his body; a happy sigh leaves his lips as he lets the sensation of contentment wash over him like the hot water is washing over his body. The flowery smell is delightful; Cody feared that it would’ve been too much, but it’s actually the perfect amount to be pleasant, not too much and neither too little. Obi-Wan clearly knows what he’s doing.

Speaking of Obi-Wan, he lets Cody bask in the warmth for a moment, before walking to the tub’s edge, sitting on it. He helps Cody clean himself up, massaging the sore muscles with gentle touch; it’s actually getting harder and harder to stay awake, so much that Cody has forgone keeping his eyes open, knowing that it would be a vain effort; besides, he doesn’t need to see now, he needs to feel.

Once Obi-Wan’s done, he pours some shampoo on his hands and he begins to gently scratch Cody’s scalp.

He smiles with tenderness at the way Cody leans into his touch; good, it means he’s beginning to relax: he can clearly feel the tenseness leave Cody’s body the more time passes, and he can be only happy about it. He deserves to feel calm and relaxed.

“You know you don’t have to do that, don’t you?” he asks softly, as if to not disturb the quiet intimate atmosphere around them. Even though he feels he might be ruining the moment, some things just have to be said, or else anything would ever be resolved and Cody would keep acting the same.

“I know…” Cody replies, voice soft as well. After a moment of silence, he continues. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Obi-Wan begins to wash his hair, watching the trails of shampoo trickle down Cody’s shoulders. Once he’s done with that, he presses a kiss on the top of Cody’s hair, uncaring of the wet hair.

“We all love and care for you. You don’t need to prove anything.”

“I know…” This time, Cody’s voice is weaker. He’s trying real hard not to make it crack, but Obi-Wan can still sense the effect his words have on him through the Force.

He knows Cody has a lot to unlearn and he knows how hard doing something like that is; it’s exactly because of this that…

“I love you, and I’m proud of you.”

A chocked noise comes out of Cody’s throat, then he raises one hand, taking the one Obi-Wan is still resting on his shoulder in order to bring it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on its palm.

“I love you too.”

He helps Cody up from the bathtub and brings him a towel to help him dry off.

It’s good that by now Cody uses to keep a spare set of blacks in Obi-Wan’s quarters, because he hadn’t thought about clothes; to tell the truth, he didn’t think about this too much at all: it’s been more of a following his instincts situation.

After Cody finishes dressing up, they both get comfortable on Obi-Wan’s bed, secured into each other’s arms.

Obi-Wan can feel Cody’s breathing against his chest; it’s getting heavier and heavier. Just as he thinks that he must’ve fallen asleep, however, Cody speaks, or better, mumbles something:

“Thank you. For everything.”

Obi-Wan smiles, caressing Cody’s hair, leaning closer to kiss it.

“No need to thank me, my dear,” he replies, meaning each and every word of it. He’s just doing what is right. “Rest now, you deserve it.”

#codywan #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #sw #tcw #star wars #the clone wars #my fics #mine #clone husband #there aren't enough fics about people taking care of cody and not the other way around #so i plan to fix this

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “The Escape.”

Hope you guys enjoy, and have a great Monday everyone

Great rumbling sirens still blared behind them as they cut through the darkness just at the base of the wall. The sirens were like nothing either of them had ever heard as they were deep and rumbling causing the ground to shake like a mild earthquake. The sounds of the animals inside was just audible over the high wall, though the rumbling shouts of those deep, voiced creatures were drowned out by the sirens.

“Just a little further.” Krill whispered in Adam’s ear, and Adam continued to crouch low into the shadows, both of them had to hope that these creatures didn’t have as good of eyesight as humans or drev, for if they did Adam was going to stand out like candle in a dark room with just how pasty white he was.

Adam came to a stop a few feet later, his eyes scanning the open field before them, “‘There they are.”

“And now what?”

“Now we hijack and alien spaceship.”

“And what makes you think that you are going to be able to fly it?”

“I can fly anything.”

“And what if it requires a key?”

“Well then we will hotwire it?”

“Stop being annoyingly optimistic and listen to my concerns for just five seconds will you.”

The man waved a hand, “I know I know, but I didn’t exactly THINK about that part now did I.”

“You know sometimes I think you are intelligent, and then at other times you are a complete idiot. In the end, I am never entirely sure which one I agree with more.”

“Let's pick the one where I am smart until proven otherwise. If we get captured again, you can call me the biggest idiot ever, and I will agree with you.”

“IF we get captured again, then we are going to have bigger problems than you just being an idiot.” Adam held up a hand to quiet him, and then looking in either direction, he hurried forward across the open space, ducking down as soon as they reached the nearest ship.

“And how do we know if any of these are warp drive capable?” Krill demanded.

Adam peered out from under one of the struts, “We are looking for the ship we rode here on. If they take exotic animals from other planets, then I am willing to bet that it would have to have a warp drive. Ah ha, there it is.”

Krill glanced over his shoulder and in the direction that the Commander was pointing, and sure enough, there the ship was in all of its alien glory.

The two of them looked around for a few seconds looking for anyone who might spot their movement, but there was no one, and they managed to make it forward without being noticed. Adam and Krill stopped right below the strange, floating, silver ball.

“Now what.”

“Now a door.” Krill, float up there to about head height for those things and see if you can’t find anything.”

Krill did as told, but as of yet he was having no real luck.

“Shit.” Adam muttered tilting his head back to make one more suggestion, and that was when he heard the shouting.

Together, he and Krill turned to look back over their shoulders, and found a group of keepers running after them across the open tarmac.

They had been spotted.

“Shit!”

***

The team of keepers ran across the open tarmac and towards the escaped aliens. Three of them had tranquilizer guns up an ready, shooting down towards the two figures. They missed the duos by mere inches as it dove to the left, rolling out of their line of fire. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing, the boss hadn’t been wrong when he suggested these things might be sentient.

Either way, they were too dangerous to be left on the loose.

The Does grabbed the Planita and began springing across the open space. It was fast, and it would be almost impossible to catch up with it.

It dodged, and ducked and weaved this way and that past their flying darts, and over the tarmac.

Just before them, a crew from the nearest peacekeeper station had arrived, and had just lowered themselves onto the Tarmac. The door popped open, and the peacekeepers began to file out onto the open ground only to stop when their shouting began. They looked about in confusion and befuddlement at the scene before them.

The keepers were forced to pull their fire so as not to hit the peacekeepers. THey waited for the duos to cut in a different direction, but instead of turning course, it charged straight towards the peacekeepers. They stood in shock and confusion, and were just beginning to lift their weapons when the Duos ran straight into a running jump. It leaped almost three feet off the ground before lashing out with its metal leg. The power of the kick sent it up and forward, while the peacekeeper was shoved into the ground.

The Duos sailed through the air for a moment hands outstretched, the Planita clutching onto its back.

And then it came skidding downwards cutting right through the open doorway of the peacekeeper shuttle.

The keepers raised their weapons for one last volley of fire as the Duos slammed its hand into the closing button.

Three of the peacekeepers went down and the doors slammed shut.

***

Adam raced towards the front seat of the small shuttle leaving krill to float behind him as the strange aliens slammed their fists against the door hatch.

“Hurry up, Commander.”

“I’m Hurrying! I;m Hurrying!” He shouted back pausing at the front of the little shuttle and looking around in confusion at the controls.

“Uh.”

“Just press something!” Krill was screaming from the back.

“OK OK!” He reached a hand forward towards a small pillar of light on his left hand side. When his hand came in contact with the pillar of light, he heard the engines roar to life. With his other hand, he passed his fingers over the second beam of light.

Below him, he felt it as the machine lifted off they round.

The pounding at the door subsided and then started up again. Out the front windscreen, he could see That they were surrounded..

“Hurry up!”

“Do you want to drive! Because I will let you drive!”

“Just GO!” HE wasn’t entirely sure how Going was going to work but in frustration, he raised his hands against the beam of light, and almost smashed into the floor as they shot upwards. Krill squealed somewhere behind him, and suddenly they were airborne.

*** The ship shot into the sky and the Keepers were powerless to stop it. It hovered about forty feet above them for a long moment before wobbling and then shooting off in another direction. Shouting and yelling followed after as they raced to the other vehicles, leaping into their ships to begin pursuit, as the little shuttle streaked out over the city and upwards towards atmosphere.

The shuttle was slow in comparison to their cruisers, and they caught up with relative ease intending to grab the smaller shuttle with a magnetic hook.

Their first attempt was met with complete failure, as the shuttle spun and then dived violently in a manuver so well executed two of the pursuing shuttles slammed right into each other training debris down on the city below.

Their orders had originally been to keep the creature alive, but threw as no point to that now with the destruction it was causing, and they opened fire.

THe shuttle rolled hard right and then plunged downward cutting to the side, and under.

One of their cruisers rolled to chase, but that was when the creature found the energy guns.

One of their ships was blasted right out of the sky as the creature, flying like only a mad man would, cut under them and then straight up through their formation. IN the chaos, only one of their cruisers managed to make it out and follow the other ship as it rocketed upwards.

IT fired once, thought it had missed, but then the other ship slowed to a stop, slowing to an almost complete pause in the air before it tilted back and began plummeting dowards.

IT cut past the last remaining shuttle flipping end over end as it fell towards the city below.

There would be some damage, but the creature could cause no more harm.

The shuttle was approaching the ground now, only a few hundred feet away, and then the engines fired again. THey watched in shock and disbelief as the shuttle evened out and blasted low over the buildings, vanishing over the horizon in a matter of seconds.

** Krill groaned in agony as his insides ached from the toll of the G-forces they had just pulled. He was pretty sure something inside has probably ruptured, but stil Adam had managed to loose their tail, and had now cut upwards and emerged into a low orbit over the planet.

“I want to put some distance between us.” He called ack over his shoulder, shooting out towards the blackness of space.

KRill turned to look over his shoulder as the planet grew smaller and smaller behind them.

Up ahead Adam wobbled slightly on his feet.

“Commander, are you alright.”

The man pulled his hands from the beams of light and turned on the spot, a sort of sheepish grin on his face.

“Make sure that no one is following us, will you.”

“What are you talking bout>”

With that sheepish smile still plastered on his face, the man turned to the side and lifted his arm to reveal the tiny tranquilizer dart sticking form his side, “Just make sure they don’t find us, you know how to fly the ship.” And then he staggered again, keeling over to one side and landing flat on his back on the metal floor with an echoing thud.

***

Hijan Rolled her spear between her fingers crouching low against an outcropping of rock. Behind her, her son, the Sentinel, and the others from her tribe remained silent as the troop of burg passed. THey were heading inwards towards the queen’s palace.

Hijan didn’t take a moment to stop and wonder at the strange alien creations.

This was war, and she had no time to be wasting on shock or awe, despite this being the first time she had ever left her planet, or the fertile belt.

WIth one raised hand, she motioned her fighters forward, cutting across the open stone with them as the burg filtered out the other side of the cavern

“Hijan, come in, do you read me.” She pulled up at the sound, ordering the others to hide as the patchy and somewhat static signal came through her earpiece. IT was a strange experience, she had never used technology during battle, as her father had been a staunch traditionalist. Even now, hiding from the enemy instead of taking them straight on, was an unusual experience for her.

She reached up and pressed one finger against the tiny delicate button.

She didn’t understand how such a small device could connect her with someone form so far away, but she trusted that it would work.

“I am here.”

The young Drev sounded relieved, her voice crackling over the line with a sigh, “Good, change of plans.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Hijan crouched low in the darkness listening her joints aching as she listened to the younger drev speak.

“We need to get that egg.” She finished

And hijab nodded her head before remembering Chalan couldn’t see her, “It will be done.” She turned to the others, raising a hand and motioning them to follow after her as she cut back the way they had come, and then into a side passage that took them downwards. The others were not entirely sure what she was dong, but they didn’t question her as they moved through the dark, damp tunnels.

They ran into a burg patrol just outside the room they were looking for, but barely a sound was made as her Drev warriors reacted first, taking out the Burg with all prejudice.

She didn’t feel bad about it, of course.

This was all for their own good, if what Chalan had said was true.

Together they stepped through the nearest door and into the large room.

Her son cursed behind her, and she couldn’t help but make a face at the large slime covered pit where they were now standing.

Large sticky mounds of mucus and slime covered the ground, sheets of the stuff spreading from floor to ceiling in great gelatinous sheets. In certain cases, little white maggoty creatures wiggled around in the slime mewling and churning.

“That’s disgusting.” Someone whispered from the back

She had to agree, but the mission didn’t allow her to focus on anything else.

She turned her head eyes falling on the other side of the room where a large nest of pearly white eggs sat quivering within the slime.

She told the others to hang back as she cut across the room and towards the little alcove that she was told would be there.

They were right, and with an expression of disgust, Hijan reached her hand into the little pile of slime grimacing as it squelched and oozed up over hr wrists and onto her forearm carapace, but then her hands closed around it, and, in triumph she pulled her hands back and raise the ball to examine looking straight through its partially opaque surface, and towards the little wriggling creature on the inside.

The future queen of the burg.

Now all there was left to do was to meet Chalan and the others up at the throne room to finish this fight.

***

Chalan paused at the opening to the cave, glancing back down at the line of burg males as they trudged up through the darkness holding their hands up against the light filtering down from above.

“Maverick, take the Jetpack and go with them, make sure that our units know they are friendly, When you have done that, tell the others what is going on and bring a support team in if you can.”

Maverick didn’t look particularly pleased and benign the one who was going to have to take care of the burg, but she nodded and agreed without verbal complaint.

The Burg King Zaran held to the back of the group.

It had been impossible to convince him to go along with the others.

He was determined to see it through.

Sunny sighed, looking at him, she could already tell he was going to be of no real help. He was very thin in comparison to the females of his species, with spidly bug-like legs, and a body she could have snapped in half over her knee like a twig.

The legs on which he stood were no bigger than the width of your average human’s thumb, and the way he walked made it clear he was lighter than one might expect for his size, but this was his kingdom, and hopefully his presence would add legitimacy to the reign of the new queen.

Chalan turned in a tight circle as Maverick engaged her jetpack leading a column of the colorful burg as they flew into the morning sky above.

Hijan was close to the objective, so it was important to go now before there was a gap in time where things could go wrong.

They didn’t wait to make sure that Maverick made it out safe. She could handle herself, and together they turned back to the darkness of the burg cave.

*** The universe spun in a slow spiral about the leviathan’s head. He wore the night sky as a crown, and what a magnificent crown the night sky was for the king of the most ancient being in the universe.

He rolled in great billowing sweeps leaving streaks of light behind him through the darkness. Around his through he could feel the comforting compression of the queen of stars as she curled around his body.

He could feel it in the night, in the silence.

He could feel it’s presence, and knew what he must do.

He turned in a tight and winding circle up and then over opening his mouth and grasping onto the end of his own tail.

There was a sharp pull and then a thunderous burst of light.

And he was gone.

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haderpjs · 5 years ago

Text

Eddie lives.

But Richie at the beginning isn’t allowed to see him, (no one is, obviously, he’s under surgery) the losers try to take him to the Town House so he can sleep and change his filthy clothes, they try, more than once each, until Richie finally agrees.

Eddie had more than one surgery, Richie wasn’t paying so much attention to what the doctors were saying to them. All the things they had to do to save Eddie's life sounded numb and far away because he was occupied thinking on how he might be so close to losing Eddie a g a i n, after just having got him back.

Now clean and rested (not really he couldn’t sleep more than two hours because he made the mistake of entering to Eddie’s room and see the blood all over the bathroom floor) he is finally allowed to see Eddie, it’s been almost 10 hours since they first brought Eddie to the hospital. It hurts to see his dearest friend all pale and weak and tied to diverse devices and machines but it’s a million times better than what he saw in the deadlights.

They stay all the hours the doctors allow them to, when the night comes he’s the only one who doesn’t go back to the Town House. He stays besides Eddie because he is afraid of leaving his friend alone, he is afraid of Edie dying even when the doctors said he was in no danger anymore, he can’t leave Eddie, he can’t lose him after he just got him back, -you don’t ‘got him’ don’t be stupid, he is married and you know it- he tells himself.

Richie sits on the chair besides Eddie’s bed, since the bed is taller he can rest his head on the mattress. He knows he should put his glasses on the table but he finds himself being comfortably at peace por once since he arrived to Derry and he might not want to fall asleep but he is so tired, without realizing or thinking much about it his body is already reaching out for Eddie’s, Richie holds his friend’s hand and lets the [beep beep beep] of the heart rate monitor drift him to sleep, -it’s practically the sound of Eddie’s heart- he tinks and sure it isn’t the most comfortable position but he won’t let go of Eddie’s hand.

He wakes up in the middle of the night all startled and alarmed, he adjusts his crooked glasses and once his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and then he can see how the dim glow from outside lightens Eddie’s facial features, Richie feels like crying for the nth time since he woke up from the deadlights. And jus now he had dreamed what he saw in those fucking magic demonic lights.

‘‘Hey Eds, you ... you have to wake up man’‘ his voice is barely a whisper

[beep beep beep]

‘‘Not like, right now I know you’re on a lot of drugs and very weak from the surgeries but-huh’‘ he whimpers and tries to calm himself

-Of couse Eddie will wake up, we killed that fucking demonic clown, we won, and we remember each other and we’ll not forget this time!-

‘‘y’know you’re the strongest person I know right?, and you’re so brave Eds, I hope you know I meant what I said down there in the sewers, you are braver than you believe you are’‘

-Eddie will wake up and I’ll tell him how brave he is to his face until he believes it-

‘‘But you’re an Idiot too’‘ he can’t contain the little giggle that escapes his mouth

‘‘Why did you save me?’‘ he asks to the unconscious man lying in fron of him

[beep beep beep]

-It should’ve been me- that thought is been in Richie’s head since they were draggind Eddie outside from neitbolt.

He was the one with the stupid trashmouth that got himself in the deadlights and he probably should have died with his brains fried or whatever. It sucked that Eddie had to rescue him only to nearly die impaled. If Richie just hadn’t acted stupidily. But he knows Eddie did it because they are best friends, the same way Eddie would have done it for Bill or any other of the losers, Richie also knows he would have done the same thing, bitch he did what he did because Mike was about to die and even if it wasn’t the most smart thing to do he’d do that again just so Mike or any other of his friends wouldn't die.

[beep beep beep]

‘‘Why did that fucking clown had to hurt you?’‘ He lets out a sob and burries his head on the space between Eddie’s arm and the right side of his torso

-to hurt me, It did it because he knew my secret, always knew and It did it in front of my eyes, because he knew my dirty little secret because It knew one of my biggest fears is losing you-

Sure the moment pennywise died Eddie’s bleeding had stopped and when they put Eddie in the ambulance Richie is sure the hole in his chest wasn't as big as pennywise claw must’ve first pierced through Eddie’s chest, but Eddie still lost plenty blood and the internal damage still was there. He wishes Eddie’s injury had dissapeared the moment they killed that demonic clown.

‘‘I know you’re out of danger now but you didn’t deserve this, you didn’t have to, for ANY reason, especially not for me’‘

[beep beep beep]

He hated himself for being the cause Eddie was now lying almost lifeless on a hospital bed, with a big-ass scar on his chest and back, not to mention who knows how many months of physical therapy ahead of him.

‘‘Eds, I am so happy you’re alive, umm I thought-’’ he whimpers

‘’I thought I had lost you, when we were dragging you out and you wouldnt wake up, I held your almost lifeless body on my arms and it felt fucking horrible’‘ a deep breath escapes his mouth

[beep beep beep]

‘‘it felt like my life was being drawn away from me’‘ he lifts his hands and presses his palms under his glasses against his eyelids

[beep beep beep]

The only sound in the room was Richie’s pained voice and the constant [beep beep beep] of the machine, not that he was expecting Eddie to wake up and reply, but he was so used to Eddie always replying to him, most of the times some annoyed comebacks because of Richie’s jokes about Mrs. K, sometimes just Eddie’s giggles at Richie’s most stupid jokes, and the good ones too.

‘‘Because since the moment I remembered you, I felt like the most alive person on earth’‘

[beep beep beep]

‘‘I didn't know I missed you so much until I saw you’‘

[beep beep beep]

‘‘The void in my heart took your form after my brain reclaimed your name’

[beep beep beep] ‘

‘‘I want you in my life forever’‘ -and the rest of the losers of course-

[beep beep beep]

‘‘i don’t think I can make it another 27 years without your- friendship being a constan in my life’‘

[beep beep beep]

Richie thinks about confessing his feeling to Eddie, since well... Eddie wasn’t really listening and also, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever had the guts to do it when Eddie was actually listening, and if he ever dared to tell him how he felt, well... Eddie was married anyway and he had a life in NY, Richie would have to conform with Eddie’s friendship.

Eventually Richie fell asleep again, he didn’t dreamed about Eddie’s death this time, he dreamed they were fifteen again and they were on the hammock reading comics and annoying the shit out of each other. Until an ugly whiny voice woke him up.

‘‘[I AM HIS WIFE and I have all the right to see him!]’‘

Richie could see the shadow on the closed curtains of the window that a nurse was standing between the door and a woman, blocking her way in.

‘‘[Mrs. Kaspbrak I understand you are concerned about your husband but I already told you he is stable and these are not visit hours]’‘

-SHITSHITSHITSHIT EDDIE’S WIFE IS HERE-

Richie stood up from the chair and started pacing the room, he had stayed past visit hours and he wasn't supposed to, but since the nurse that came last night into the room to check Eddie’s vitals didn’t say a word he supposed it wouldn’t be a problem if he slept there.

Now he had no way of sneaking out of the room and they were going to find him in there and honestly, he didn’t care if the doctors disapproved his actions, he didn't want to see Eddie’s wife, but he didn’t want to leave Eddie’s side just so Mrs. Kaspbrak would take his place

-It is NOT your place! stop it!!!-

‘‘FFFFUCK’‘ he muttered

‘‘[... else do you need me to sign?, I am going to demand this hospital if you refuse to let me see my husband]’‘

‘’fuck Eds she really is Sonia 2.0, Jesus man what did you got yourself into?’‘ Richie whispered towards Eddie

‘‘[... and sorry I don’t mean to be rude, I am just very *hiccups* very worried abut my husband and i just need to see him, I haven't seen him since he left three days ago, pleease even if it’s just 5 minutes I need to see him!, you can’t imagine the pain I was in when i found out he!- *wimpers*]’‘

Richie reaches out for Eddie’s hand and sqeezes it, Eddie looks so peaceful now and he really can't hold himself out, he leans down and pressed a kiss to Eddie's forehead.

He was just leaning back up when the door opened

‘‘You can stay but when the Doctor comes in for the routinely check-ups you'll have to leave, that gives you about 20 minutes-’‘ the nurse stopps when she sees Richie standing beside Eddie’s bed.

‘‘Oh!, I didn't thought-’‘ anyone would be here

‘‘No i was just le-’‘ Richie doesn’t finish because Myra interrupts him, walking towards Eddie’s bed while observing Richie’s being very meticulously

‘’WHO ARE YOU?’’ Myra demands looking at Richie now with a flash of disgust on her face

Richie doen’t like how demanding she sounds, and he certainly doesnt like how she’s looking at him, he feels vulnerable and he feels exposed like he just got caught doing something that he isn't supposed to, allowed to. He hates it.

‘’No one, I am leaving’‘ He answers almost very apathetic and walks down past them towards the door. Hands on his pockets and head slightly facing down

‘‘are you one of Eddie’s friends?. He said he came to visit some friends, were you with him when this happened to him?’‘

He stops in the door frame but doesn't turn to face her

‘‘Yeah’‘... -yes I was there and I didn’t do enough to keep him from being hurt, yes it’s my fault he’s there ... -

Richie leaves the room.

#i am sorry i don't know what is this #reddie #reddie fic #reddie ficlet #post chapter two #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it chapter two #richie's pov #fanfic #.txt #my writing

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animationstarlover1983 · 2 years ago

Text

Fnaf system reboot au

Main characters: good guys, info/descriptions (canon)

1. Cassie Martinez: a 10 year old girl and a main character in the au story. Cassie is a young girl and the first kid friend gregory makes while in the pizzaplex, she also becomes a victim of the villainous mastermind who has taken over the pizzaplex, however Cassie much like Gregory is more then what she seems. Species: human/reborn soul. Soul: Cassidy jones (vengeful spirit). Age: 10. Date of birth: December - 16th - 20xx. Appearance: Cassie has jet black hair and puts in low pigtails and amber/hazel eyes, she wears a red sweater and Jean shorts with purple leggings and light up sketchers. Personality: Cassie is smart, friendly, energetic, passionate, curious, creative, stubborn, responsible, somewhat short tempered, caring, helpful. Facts/info: Cassie has a weird obsession with collecting old fredbear/golden Freddy things, in this au she and gregory are friends and not siblings. Powers: peak human condition, spiritual awareness, golden Freddy power (not unlocked yet). Skills: high intelligence, raw cunning, strategic planning, adept learning, stealth, survival instincts, self defense. Likes: family/friends, reading/writing, outdoor activities, sports, animals, plushies/toys, video games. Dislikes: William afton, fazbear entertainment.

2. Luis Cabrera: A 24 year old man and a important character in the au story. Luis is a childhood friend of Vanessa’s and a top tier employee at fazbear entertainment, Luis like Vanessa is a prodigy and he is a computer/electronics expert, Luis usually visits the pizzaplex frequently but is soon caught up in a evil masterminds plan, strangely Luis is somehow immune to the glitchtrap virus. Species: human. Age: 24. Date of birth: may - 29th - 20xx. Appearance: Luis has ginger/orange hair and amber eyes, he’s quite tall and fit, he often wears a blue/yellow polo shirt under a pizzaplex jacket, when at work he wears a standard employee uniform. Personality: Luis is intelligent, friendly, stubborn, curious, creative, energetic, fun loving, humorous. Facts/info: Luis has had a major crush on Vanessa and vice versa, Luis is also Vanessa’s childhood/best friend. Powers: peak human condition, spiritual awareness. Skills: genius level intelligence, raw cunning, adept learning, intuition, computer expertise, electronics expertise, creativity, self defense. Likes: family/friends, chocolate, outside, exercise/yoga, soccer, reading, computer science, collecting trinkets, karate/self defense classes. Dislikes: scary things. Job/career: computer scientist, IT department (formerly), marketing department (recently), robotics/electronics technician.

3. Glamrock chica henny: a animatronic chicken and a main character to the au story. Chica is a mascot at Freddy fazbears mega pizzaplex and band member of the glamrocks who plays the electric guitar , she is the star attraction of mazercize where she trains and helps people workout while encouraging them to eat healthy and drink sports/energy drinks, chica like her fellow animatronic band members also acts more human than machine. Species: animatronic chicken/reborn soul. Soul: Penelope Grayson. Date of creation: august - 21 - 20xx early. Appearance: chicas appearance is similar to that of her game counterpart except she’s been given a feather tail to add to her chicken heritage. Personality: chica is friendly, caring, helpful, energetic, passionate, quirky. Corrupted personality: when infected with the g-t virus chica is gluttonous, sadistic, deceptive, reckless, aggressive, single minded. Facts/info: chica has a habit of clucking like a actual chicken. Powers/features: animatronic physiology (strength/agility/durability/advance ai/inbuilt e-manual/databank archive), audio/sound features (audio speaker/voice mimicry/sound translation), candy dispenser, sweet scent release, spiritual awareness, ghost haunting. Skills: keen intellect, adept learning, empathy/sympathy, caretaking expertise, cooking/baking expertise. Likes: friends/family, cooking/baking, cute things, exercise/yoga, learning new things. Dislikes: violence, scary things.

4. Roxanne wolf: a animatronic wolf and a main character in the story. Roxanne is a new animatronic added to Freddy fazbears mega pizzaplex and a member of the glamrock band who plays the keytar, roxxane is the head mascot of her attraction Roxanne raceway where she teaches and challenges guest to go kart races, just like her other animatronics Roxanne acts more human then machine. Species: animatronic wolf/reborn soul. Soul: zoey wolf. Date of creation: July - 29th - 20xx. Appearance: Roxanne’s appearance is the same as her game counterpart. Personality: Roxanne is smart, head strong, level headed, confident, friendly, competitive, somewhat insecure, stubborn, diligent, responsible. Corrupted personality: when infected with the g-t virus Roxanne becomes aggressive, vain, self centered, rude, competitive, narcissistic. Facts/info: Roxanne had a small crush on Freddy but is bad at hiding it sometimes. Powers/features: animatronic physiology (strength/immense speed/immense agility/durability/advance ai/inbuilt e-manual/databank archive), special vision features (night vision/x-ray vision/infrared thermal vision/ultraviolet vision/telescopic vision/microscopic vision), spiritual awareness, ghost haunting. Skills: keen intellect, raw cunning, strategic planning, adept learning, leadership, vehicle expertise, mechanic engineering expertise, self defense. Likes: friends/family, vehicles, fashion, self care, racing. Dislikes: getting messy/dirty, selfish/immature people.

5. Montgomery alligator: a animatronic alligator and a main character to the au story. Montgomery is a new animatronic added to Freddy fazbears mega pizzaplex and a member of the glamrock band who plays the drums, Montgomery is the head mascot of Montgomery gator golf where he teaches and challenges guest to different golf courses, Montgomery just like his bandmates also acts more human than machine. Species: animatronic alligator/reborn soul. Soul: Reginald colson. Date of creation: august - 2nd - 20xx. Appearance: Montgomerys appearance is the same as his game counterpart. Personality: Montgomery is passionate, confident, stubborn, friendly, short tempered, competitive, energetic, helpful. Corrupted personality: when infected by the g-t virus Montgomery is aggressive, somewhat violent, egotistical, reckless, rude. Facts/info: in the au Montgomery favorite animatronic to hang out with is Bonnie because he’s always been interested in Bonnie’s bass guitar. Powers/features: animatronic physiology (immense strength/speed/immense durability/advance ai/inbuilt e-manual/databank archive), water gun mouth, spiritual awareness, ghost haunting. Skills: keen intellect, leadership, charisma, intimidation, self defense, golf expertise, caretaking expertise. Likes: friends/family, golf, swamps, music, boxing bags, pools, sunglasses. Dislikes: immature/selfish people, people assuming he’s always angry.

6. The blob/tangle/cluster: a giant animatronic/amalgamation and a important character to the au story. The blob in this au will also be referred to as cluster, blob/cluster lives underneath the pizzaplex within the ruins of the old Freddy fazbears pizza place, the blob rules over all the other amalgamations in the ruins and wishes not to be disturbed by anyone, cluster also wishes to find and get revenge on William afton due to it being fueled by the agony of all of Williams past victims. Species: animatronic/amalgamation/agony fueled monster. Date of creation: unknown. Appearance: the blob/cluster upper half looks like a fixed but old and rusty combinatorial of Funtime Freddy and Molten Freddy, his color scheme is gray/black/white, his left eye is blue and his right eye is red, his lower half is like a snake tail put together by large wires/cables, his left arm is a machine claw with 3 finger/hooks, on his inside is a bunch of wires/cables and animatronic eyeballs with past animatronics. Personality: the blob/cluster acts like a wild animal wild/feral but still holds enough intelligence to think and stuff, the blob is angry, sad and confused by its existence, it also seems to have multiple personalities. Facts/info: the blob will only attack those it deems a threat to its life, the blob also goes around collecting anything to add to its body. Powers/features: animatronic physiology (immense strength/immense speed/immense agility/immense flexibility/immense durability/advance ai/robotic perception), Funtime animatronics features, faceplate split, wire/cable control, light/sound frequency control, technology/machinery fusion, spiritual awareness, negative emotion empowerment/augmentation. Skills: keen intellect, raw cunning, adept learning, stealth. Likes: friends/family, sleeping, collecting, music, being alone. Dislikes: William afton, fazbear entertainment, afton robotics.

Next: returning redesigned characters.

#fnaf #alternate universe #cassie #glamrock chica #roxanne wolf #montgomery gator #the blob #luis cabrera

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nightashes · 4 years ago

Text

The Alliance Sucks, the Rebellion’s Not Much Better, but at Least We Have Each Other

A/N: Yes. I know it’s a crazy long title. Fight me. Shortened title: At Least We Have Each Other. Longer title: the alliance sucks, the rebellion’s not much better, but at least we have each other (and some guns). This is a discord gift for @sometimes-love-is-enough. I hope you enjoy! This is the longest one-shot I have written so far! woot woot!

Summary: Being a criminal in space is difficult. Being a criminal in space that just pulled a job on a government facility is worse. Being a criminal in space that just pulled a job on a government facility and somehow picked up a stowaway is a recipe for disaster. Luckily this crew specializes in disasters.

Meet the Crew:

Janus: the Captain. He can demand respect and obedience with nothing more than a glare.

Virgil: the pilot and emergency medic.. He’s no doctor but he’s gotten the crew through a fair amount of scrapes.

Roman: the second-in-command. He helps Virgil out in navigation and generally makes sure the ship runs smoothly and is always fully stocked with everything they could possibly need.

Remus: he’s the muscle and he makes sure the ship never remains stocked.

And of course Patton: the engineer. Without him this ship would be nothing more than a crappy piece of modern art.

Warnings: an assortment of weapons, a kid with a gun, blood, violence, explosions, almost major character death

writing masterlist - ao3 version

***

The thrum of the engine was a constant backdrop. It was the hiss of a living breathing machine. More than a sound, the vibrations were a blanket laid over them, an understanding of protection. The engine was awake and they were finally on the move. As long as they were moving, they were safe. Janus walked along the corridor, his gloved hand passing over the metal walls, feeling the buzz of the engine beneath his fingertips. He quirked a smile.

In the distance he could hear the shouts of his crew, arguing passionately. It seemed there was always something to argue about with them and Janus hardly did much to prevent it. If it went too far, he would step in and knock some sense into them. But in the end, this is just how they were. They resolved everything with a passionate debate. Everything .

The door to his room slid open at the touch of his hand. He swept off his overcoat and settled heavily onto his bed. It had not been an easy job. They would have to lie low for a while. Stealing from the Alliance was like that. Nothing but trouble. But at least they would get paid. And any chance to stick it to those government lackeys was a welcome one as far as he was concerned. For now all he wanted to do was sleep. Kicking off his boots and sliding out of his suspenders, Janus collapsed back onto his pillow.

“Dim the lights, Serenity.” He mumbled to the ship’s AI, already drifting off to sleep.

Bang!

“Janus! They won’t let me-”

“Janus! You can’t let Remus hurt-”

“Janus! We need your help. There’s-”

“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” Janus yanked open the door.

Glaring down at his crew, even with his ruffled hair and wrinkled shirt he cut an intimidating figure. His eyes bored into their souls, shutting down any ideas of speaking out of turn.

“One at a time you will explain to me what is wrong in as few words as possible. Virgil, you first.”

“Roman found a stowaway. He’s with him now.”

“A stowaway. Fantastic. Just what we needed.” The captain spat. “Remus?”

“Obviously, we should just toss the little squirt out into space. But no one here will let me.”

Janus turned to the last one there. “And I suppose that’s why you’re upset, Patton?”

“He’s just a kid.” The empathetic engineer practically pleaded.

“Where is he?”

“Storage. Roman found him while securing the prototype.” Virgil explained.

“So the kid’s seen what we have. More wonderful news .” He drew his hand down his face with a sigh. “Alright, you three stay here. I’ll go figure this out.”

***

Roman was sitting on the floor, his katana had been drawn and set aside behind him. He was talking in a low voice to the kid. Across from him, the stowaway sat with his back ramrod straight as his fingers played with the laces of his shoe. The kid was nervous but trying his best to hide it. Whatever Roman was saying the kid wasn’t responding.

Janus rapped the wall with his knuckles. The kid whipped his head around to face him. There was an intelligence in those eyes. He stared with a calculating gaze that was unusual for one so young. He was dressed smartly, wearing pressed slacks and a vest, obviously a child of wealth. Now what would lead a kid of status to stowaway on a ship of thieves?

“Ah, Captain. Good thing you're here. He won’t speak to anyone but you.” Roman spoke, trying his best to keep his voice calm and even, an usual occurrence for the boisterous first mate.

“You’re the captain?” The child asked, unimpressed.

“No, I’m the cook. Everyone calls me Captain because if they don’t I’ll spit in their food.” Janus whispered conspiratorially.

The kid squinted his eyes in suspicion and confusion. “You are being dishonest.”

A stowaway that didn’t understand sarcasm, this would certainly be interesting. “You’re right. I am being dishonest. You’ve figured it out, I am the captain. And now I need you to answer my questions. Can you tell me why you’ve decided to stowaway on my ship?”

The kid looked between the two of them, he tried to speak with confidence but there was a spark of fear hidden within his eyes. Janus wondered if Roman could see it too.

“I want to join you.” The kid spoke simply.

Roman raised his brow and Janus could not hold back a chuckle. The kid tightened his fists, preparing himself for a debate. “I’m smart. I can solve problems and help map out battle plans better than anyone in my class.”

“I’m sure you can, kid,” Janus shook his head incredulously. “But you see we don’t really have any need for a battle tactician. And as for plans and problems, no one can beat my second-in-command here.” Janus clapped his hand around Roman’s shoulder.

“It’s true. If he brought you on, I might grow jealous.” Roman smirked.

“Well, then I could join another ship. One that needs me.” The kid refused to be persuaded.

The captain sighed. Alright, the straight-forward approach. “Look, you aren’t joining a ship of smugglers and thieves. We won’t take you and there is no way I’m letting you join any other ship. You’d be killed in a month. Why don’t you tell me where your home is and we can drop you off?”

“Smugglers? I thought-” The kid’s fear was unmistakable now. “I may have made a miscalculation.”

“Did you now?”

“You’re not with the rebellion?”

“Most definitely not.”

“You attacked the Northern Outpost on Galiero. Why would you do that if you are not with the rebellion?”

“Ah, see… we can’t really tell you about that. But-”

The kid was not listening, scanning the room he pointed to the prototype, cutting Janus off, “It’s because of that. Isn’t it?’

The prototype sat beside a smuggling hold. It was a large piece of machinery, all sharp edges and mysterious buttons, waiting patiently to be hidden snuggly away, the same hold that the kid must have found and stowed away in. They would need to reevaluate their hidden compartments if a kid could find them.

The kid continued, “If you’re smugglers, then you can take me to the rebels. I can pay you.”

“We’re not taking you to any rebels,” Roman asserted. “We’re taking you home. To your family.”

“My family is gone.” The kid spat out venomously. “It was just my dad and I. And then the Alliance took him away. They said his books were spreading ‘treasonist ideologies.’ They took him away and forced me into a new family. I’m not going back there. I’m joining the rebellion and I’m going to destroy the Alliance.”

There was a pause of silence. Janus and Roman gave each other a meaningful look. “Alright, we won’t take you home,” Janus finally proclaimed. “Roman, why don’t you take the kid here and find him something to eat?”

“Sure thing, Cap.”

“Will you take me to the rebellion?” The kid questioned, refusing to leave without a confirmation.

“Of course, kid.” At that moment, Janus was thankful that the kid couldn’t understand sarcasm.

“It’s Logan. Logan Sanders.” Their stowaway clarified as he allowed himself to be led away.

The captain sighed heavily. He needed to speak with his pilot.

***

“You want to what?” Virgil nearly yelled.

“I want to rescue the boy’s father from the Alliance prisons.”

“You’re insane! You’ve lost it! The Captain’s lost it and we are all going to die!”

“Virgil, calm down. We can do it, as long as we play it smart.”

“No!” Virgil shook his head. “No, there is no ‘playing this smart.’ We are running hot right now. We have a stolen prototype in our storage that the Alliance would happily kill us to regain and now we have a kid on board to worry about! Going anywhere near Alliance space right now is suicide. We need to be heading to the outer planets as fast as our jets can carry us.”

“I know. But we aren’t. Logan needs his father. Or would you rather we hand him over to the rebellion so they can use him as cannon fodder?”

Virgil hissed out a curse. “You can’t do that. You can’t just do that. Guilting me into this madness...” He muttered as he began angrily punching in codes into the panel.

“Thank you, Virgil.”

“If we die, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I know.” Janus answers.

The pilot sighed as the computer beeped back at him. “Remy thinks he can figure out where the kid’s father would have been taken. Last name Sanders, right? We can start heading to the center planets now while he does his thing. It’ll take a couple days, we’ll need to go through the Mirdian belt if we want to avoid detection. By the time we arrive, Remy should have all the info we need to get ourselves killed on a rescue mission.”

“ Perfect. I’ll let the others know.”

***

The kid was pacing. The kid was pacing a lot and it was driving Remus up the wall. Back and forth. Back and forth, the kid walked. Glancing this way and that and generally being a distracting nuisance. Remus was sitting at the table, attempting to clean one of his guns in peace. He loved to tinker with his weapons in the kitchen. Best way to work and devour snacks all at once. Patton hated it of course. But Patton was busy helping Virgil. Something about making sure their approach to the planet didn’t trip off any sensors. All Remus knew was that he was supposed to have the kitchen to himself to prepare for the mission. But now there was a kid here. A kid he was not allowed to eject into space. Which Remus considered a travesty. At least the kid being here meant they were going to break into a prison! Remus has always wanted to break into a prison, ever since he and Roman had run away from home looking for adventure. And now he had his chance. He was ready to go. His skin was buzzing in excitement and he was making sure all of his precious babies were loaded and ready for a fight. But his perfect happy bubble was being ruined by pacing.

“Would you just sit down already!” Remus hollowered at the kid. Logan glanced his way unimpressed and continued to pace.

Remus grumbled in distaste. The kid was suspicious of them, Remus knew it. He may not be able to read body language like Janus, but the kid was definitely suspicious. Remus wasn’t sure how or when but sometime during their trip Logan had figured out they were heading the wrong way to meet up with the rebellion. And now he was pacing. Janus didn’t want them to tell Logan their plans. Something about getting his hopes up. Whatever the reason, it was complete bull. And Remus would know. He specialized in bullcrap.

The kid was pacing. Pacing and planning. An unpredictable plan from an unknown variable meant chaos. Remus liked chaos. But he also liked his friends. And a plan like that, on a mission like this, could get his friends killed.

“Hey kid, you want to know a secret?”

Logan stared back at Remus, silently… waiting.

“We aren’t heading towards the rebellion.” Remus grinned deviously.

There was a pause. Logan searched Remus’s face, looking for who knows what. “You’re taking me to the Alliance. You’re turning me in for clemency. Aren’t you?”

“Hah!” Remus barked out a laugh. “Turning you in for clemency? Hell no! We may not be with the rebellion but our hate for the Alliance runs just as deep.”

“Then why aren’t you with them? Why not help them fight?” Logan’s curiosity was struck.

“Because the rebellion is totally insane! And not in the fun way if you know what I mean?” Logan gave him a look that told Remus he, in fact, did not know what he meant. Remus continued, “They’re one of those defeat-the-evil-empire-by-any-means-necessary types. They believe in their own bullcrap. Trust me, kid, you don’t want to work for them.”

“What are you going to do with me then?” Logan pressed.

“We’re going to do something insane. And I do mean insane in the fun way.” Remus winked conspiratorially.

“That does nothing to reassure me.” Logan deadpanned, which caused Remus to let loose a big belly laugh. The sound bouncing around the kitchen.

“You’re alright, kid,” wiping away a tear of mirth, Remus chuckled. “Hey, come over here.” he gestured towards the table, where an assortment of his weapons had been laid out. “We’re going to be leaving in a minute to have our fun. It’ll just be you and Patton on the ship while we’re out. Nothing should happen, but just in case why don’t you take Linda here.” He shoved a small laser gun into the kid’s hands. “She’ll take care of you if any of the insanity comes this way, Alright?”

Logan stared down at the gun in his hands. His brow knitted together in confusion, but when he looked up there was gratitude in his eyes. He nodded his understanding.

A cough came from the doorway. Remus looked up to find the Captain standing in the entrance, looking with fondness at the scene in front of him. “Well, I hope I’m not interrupting. Just thought I’d let you know we’ll be touching down now.” Janus explained, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “Remus, meet me in the hold once you’ve finished. Patton will be here in a minute to take care of the kid. Said something about making you guys a hot sugary drink. That should be fun, right kid?”

Logan stared back at the Captain. His fingers feeling the weight of the weapon in his hands. He positioned himself and raised the gun, aiming it directly at the Captain’s face. His eyes were cold and his hands barely shook. “If you betray me I’ll shoot you.”

Remus smiled mischievously as Janus shot him a look of disbelief, “What did you teach him?”

“Nothing, Cap. This is all him! The kid’s a natural.”

Janus wisely decided to drop it at that. “Just pack up your things and meet me down there.”

“Righty-o, Boss Man!” Remus waved to Janus’s departing back before turning back to his new friend. “Alright, we won’t be seeing each other until nightfall. But don’t you worry, nothing’s gonna harm you. You're under my protection now, like a little chaos apprentice.” He gave a big toothy grin. “And when I have your back nothing bad will ever happen to you. Got it?”

The kid grips the weapon in his hands. “You won’t tell me what you are doing?”

“Nah, Cap wants to keep it a surprise. But trust me, you’ll love it!”

“Alright, I trust you.”

***

It was dusty, so very dusty. The wind blew it everywhere. Beneath the scarves wrapped around their faces. Crusting over the glass of their goggles. And filling their boots, as they dragged their feet further and further through the dunes. Virgil shouldered his pack higher, trying his best to adjust whatever was poking harshly into his back. The pack was heavy, filled to the brim with ammo for whatever Remus had brought along. The pack pulled his weight deeper into the sand with each and every step. They had landed several klicks away from the prison, better to go undetected until they were ready for a fight. But this meant a hike. A hike carrying bulging packs full of everything they will need for the mission ahead.

The sun was clouded. Obscured by the grit blowing around them. But the heat was real. Virgil could feel the sweat beading down his back. Drops pooled around his hairline, dripping into his scarf. Virgil desperately ached to wipe them away. But he knew it would only make the situation worse, covered as his hands were with dust.

As evening neared, they finally arrived within striking distance of the prison. They settled down to wait. Munching on protein packs and chugging water from their skins. Janus passed around an old communicator. A flashing mugshot hovered there from all to see.

Their Captain crouched down beside them, speaking as clearly and precisely as he could. “Thomas Sanders. Civilian. Divorced. Father of one and author of the banned book: The Lost Art of Community . He was arrested half a lunar cycle ago for perpetuating treasonist ideologies. Remy has provided us with a map of the building and yard. The asset will be held within solitary confinement.”

Virgil swiped through the communicator. Seeing the images zoom pass, sure enough a map popped up. An area colored yellow, stood out from the rest: solitary confinement. Virgil mumbled to himself, repeating what he saw, forcing the images into his memory.

“We’ll be doing a Surprise Secret,” Janus continued. “Remus and Roman, you’ll cover the Surprise. Virgil and I will take care of the Secret. Understood?”

Words of confirmation echoed out.

“Alright, begin your preparations. At dusk, we strike.”

***

The sky was beginning to darken. The signal would come any minute now. Virgil thought to himself as he lay on his stomach, he shifted to ensure the katana did not dig into his stomach. Roman had been kind enough to lend it for their mission. Virgil scanned the prison through his binoculars. He couldn’t see the twins, there happened to be a building in the way, but he knew they were there. On the other side, readying their surprise. It had to be soon. Any minute now. Virgil shifted nervously.

Janus laid a hand on his shoulder, “Virgil, it’ll be okay. We’ve done this before. Only difference is: now the asset is a person. We’ve got this.”

Virgil sighed heavily, “There’s a lot more different than that. It’s-”

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Time to go. They shot to their feet, sprinting towards the prison. The firefight had begun.

***

Remus was having the time of his life. Guards were pouring out of the front of the building, firing frantically at their position. But Roman and Remus were smuggly secured in a foxhole they had prepared for this very reason. They let loose a torrent of fire upon the building. Doing their best to be as loud as possible. Truly, this was the best job of their life. And all they had to do now was draw as much attention as possible, while not getting killed. Easy peasy.

Roman yelled, “Reload!” Beside him. Ducking down to grab ammunition from one of the packs that lay open in their hole.

Remus screamed as he laid down cover fire. “Eat lasers, ya little piggies!!”

A shot whizzed past his ear. Remus ducked his head a little lower. Whoa! That was close. His eyes were wide and his smile couldn’t possibly grow wider. This was living the dream. Roman patted his shoulder signaling he was ready. And together they rose again. Firing an array of blazing lasers down at the swarming guards streaming from the compound beneath them.

***

Virgil and Janus had made it onto the roof. No one had noticed them yet. Roman and Remus were truly doing a fantastic job of drawing everyone’s attention. Still, Virgil couldn’t help but worry. His gut twisted at the thought that his two crewmates were fighting against an entire prison worth of guards with nothing but their position, their weapons, and their skill to protect them.

He had long since abandoned the religion of his home planet. But as he skittered the edges of the cell block, seeing the lights of the lasers paint the horizon like a violent sunset. For the first time in years he felt the urge to wish. To wish that the great being of fate that pulled on the strings of the universe, fighting for the balance of destruction and creation, really was real. Somewhere outside of their dimension, pulling on the strings and maybe just maybe, ensuring that they would make it out okay. That the balance fell on their side today.

Virgil ran low across the roof, Janus followed closely behind in his footsteps. They glided across the blacktop, weaving between obstacles and doing their best to hide whenever possible. Against the darkened sky, they were but a pair of dancing shadows. While the front of the building was lit up in an array of lights and screams, a display of dazzling laser fire. On the roof, all was silent and dark.

He whispered to himself, repeating the layout of the map. East, a little further. They were close. So very close. Roman and Remus just had to hold on a little bit longer. Janus whipped out a thermal reader, readying himself. They had arrived at the section for solitary confinement.

The thermal reader lit up softly, Janus shifted his coat to hide the light as best as he could. Moving right and left, he worked his way across the roof. Virgil had brought out his own, starting at the other end of the section, he crouched low over the screen, he appeared as a hovering figure, coasting his way over the building, moving eerily similar to a predator. A beast-like crouch reminiscent of the predators of Loskor searching the ground for hidden Storles’s burrows.

A call broke his concentration. Janus gestured him over. Sure, enough his screen was filled with the image of red. A humanoid figure pacing in the cell below. Virgil pulled out Roman’s katana. At the push of a button, the blade pulsed red. He steadied his stance, holding the blade firmly in his fist, Virgil pushed it down into the blacktop of the roof. The blade hissed, sparks flew, spitting gravel into the air. Virgil pushed further, fighting against the force. On Janus’s screen, the figure was stock-still and squirreled away into a corner, the body stared up at the ceiling, watching their progress. Virgil pulled the blade across. Slowly, he moved around, forming the rough shape of a rounded box. He removed the katana and extinguished the fire. Now, came the tricky part. Thankfully, the figure appeared content to stay in the corner.

Virgil kicked down forcibly onto the weakened rooftop. The cut-out shape moved an inch inward, creating a large person-sized depression in the otherwise smooth surface. Sturdy sucker. Virgil kicked again.

The chunk of rooftop collapsed into the cell below, spraying chunks of rock across the frightened prison. He stared up at them through the hole. Through the dust and dirt, Virgil could make out the face of their target, Thomas Sanders.

“Your son, Logan, is waiting for you,” Janus caught the attention of the prisoner. “Ready to go?”

“My son?” Thomas asked, dumbstruck.

Virgil lay down on the roof at the edge of the hole. Reaching down into the cell, his fingers stretching towards the prisoner. “We have to go now! Grab on.”

Thomas glanced between them, searching their faces in a similar fashion to the way Logan often would. Satisfied with what he saw, he jumped to catch Virgil’s outstretched palm. Virgil groaned under the force of a grown man hanging from his arm, but he managed to hang on. He pulled his arm up. Janus came round and offered his own hand out to the man. Once they had a hold on each of his arms, they worked together. Pulling the man up and out of the darkened prison cell. They collapsed against the rooftop, huffing.

“Time to break radio silence.” Janus spoke. Yanking a communicator from his belt, he brought it up to his lips. “The secret is done. Time for the final surprise.”

The communicator crackled noisily. The sounds of static and explosion pouring through. A voice broke through the noise. “Final surprise incoming. Brace for impact.”

Virgil jumped to his feet, pulling the prison to standing position. “There’s going to be a big blast. When it happens we’ve got to run to the edge of the roof as fast as we can. You understand?”

The prisoner nodded his head, frantically. Clearly, this man was out of his depths. But he seemed focused and ready to listen. And right now, that’s all they needed.

The building shook violently. The front of the prison crumbled inward slightly as a bright ball of light stung their eyes.

“To the front! Now!” Janus yelled.

The trio ran.

***

The firefight was really starting to get exciting, Remus thought. Their foxhole was taking heavy damage and their ammunition was beginning to run low. They had to wrap this up soon if they wanted to get off this hellhole-of-a-planet unscathed. Although getting a little scathed was alright in Remus’s opinion. One can never have too many battle scars, afterall. In truth, Remus never really feared injury, not for himself at least. If the personification of death came strolling up to Remus one day, he’d probably greet him to a challenge of arm wrestling, just to see who was stronger, of course. Now, if death came for someone else, someone Remus cared about, that was another story. And so when the call from Janus came in, Remus was happy to say that thing’s seemed to be working out.

Remus set up the support stand as Roman answered, “Final Surprise incoming, brace for impact.”

From the last pack, the one that had laid unopened during the battle, Remus pulled out, what he affectionately called, The Final Surprise. A missile laser launcher that could fire a laser bolt big enough to put a hole through a military class transporter. This was going to be fun! He set it in place on the support stand and lined up his shot. Aiming for the front of the prison, his smile grew wider. The line of guard’s that had formed to fight off the “invasion” had no idea what was about to come their way.

Remus fired the Final Surprise. So named because in life there is only one final surprise.

The front of the building exploded in fire. The frame shook. The doors had been blasted off. Prisoners had been freed. And now the guards were fighting a battle on two fronts.

Remus began hurriedly packing up whatever supplies they would have the time to take. Roman took to laying down cover fire. As he packed, he took to watching the building attentively. Looking for the three figures that were currently sprinting across the rooftop. He spotted their silhouettes as they neared the building’s front. All three were there. They were safe.

Over the cacophony of battles cries and weapons firing, a new sound was heard. The thrum of an engine. Most importantly the thrum of the engine of their ship. It roared violently, the buzz of a thousand hornets that was felt deep in the bones. The ship tore through the air and came to hover directly behind them. The door had been lowered, open and ready for them to enter.

“Ready to board?” Roman shouted to his brother.

Remus was clutching the Final Surprise to his chest. The packs had been piled onto his shoulders, two to an arm. He felt positively giddy. They left their foxhole behind and jumped aboard. The guards that weren’t fighting prisoners had shifted to fire upon the ship. It was time to leave.

“We’re on! Move to the rooftop.” Roman radioed Patton.

The ship rose higher, coming level to the rooftop. It soared over the heads of the guard. The ship rattled as it took laser fire to its hull. The trio watched them as they flew in closer. Virgil jumped aboard first. Running in to hug the twins.

“God, we’re alive!” He cheered.

Janus and the prisoner jumped together. The captain steadying the civilian. He helped him through the door and safely inside the ship’s storage.

Everyone was here. They were safe. They had successfully completed a prison break!

The ship began to rise from the building. The door was beginning to close when Remus saw it.

The prison had launched their own ship. A prison transport. It had limited weapon capabilities. But their ship was already taking fire. They couldn’t risk it.

Remus was still holding onto the Final Surprise. There wasn’t anytime to set up the support stand. He dropped the packs and slammed his fist against the button to hold open the door. The others looked his way in shock as he squared up on the half-closed ramp. He hefted the Final Surprise against his shoulder. The transport ship came into his crosshairs. Remus fired.

There is a reason that the Final Surprise requires a support stand to fire. The recoil. The laser bolt left the launcher. It blasted through the crack in the open door. And Remus, he was thrown back. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the prisoner transport explode into a mess of shrapnel.

What a way to end a prison break.

***

The dreadful thing about having a surprise stowaway on board, is that other things fall to the wayside. Janus knew he had meant to give the order to hide away the prototype. But with planning a prisoner break, dealing with a child that was too smart for his own good, and trying their best to fly to a prison planet without being detected: They had just never gotten around to it.

Janus watched in horror as Remus was thrown across the ship’s storage and directly into the path of the prototype. His body smacked against its side. And blood pooled across his shirt. The crew rushed to his side. Janus barking orders to give him space.

Janus didn’t even know what the prototype did. He had just been hired to steal it. The customer was paying well and it was a chance to stick it to the Alliance. He had jumped at the chance. Now, he stood beside his bleeding crewmate. Someone had passed him a wad of gauze, probably Virgil. He was pressing them the best he could to the wound, working around the projectile. For Remus had been impaled upon a metal protrusion on the device.

Virgil was frantic. He had brought out the first aid kit and was doing what he could. But none of them knew what to do with a wound like this. How could they? They were smugglers, not doctors.

“Virgil, Patton needs you.” Janus stared at their frantic pilot.

Virgil wordlessly shook his head no.

“You need to fly us out of here.”

“He needs help.” Virgil argued.

“And what are you going to do here? We’ve got him. But right now, we need you to get us out of here. Patton doesn’t know how to leave a planet’s atmosphere. If you don’t pilot this ship we all die. And it will be your fault.” Janus's voice was as cold as stone. It was times like these that he knew why he had become their Captain. To be a Captain, meant at times you had to be cruel.

And the look Virgil shot him as he left. He knew he would pay for what he had said. But at least, they would survive. Janus could feel the blood pool around his hands. Well, most of them.

Roman was at his side now. He gripped his brother’s hand in his own. “Remus. Remus, wake up. You’ve got to wake up.”

“I’m sorry, Roman.” The captain spoke. “Are there any death rites on your planet?”

“No.” A shout came from behind them. Janus turned his head to see the stowaway. His arms were raised, just as had they had been this morning. The gun Remus had given him was held firmly in his hands. “You have to save him.”

“I’m sorry, kid. There’s nothing we can do.”

“YOU HAVE TO!” He shouted. His father crouched beside him. Whispering and trying to coax the weapon from his hands.

Logan shoved his father’s arms away. “The rebellion! Take him to the rebellion! They’ll save him!”

Roman lifted his head to look at the kid, “I would never take him back there. You don’t know what they’re like. When we left… when we found this ship, we promised we’d never return to them.”

“But… but… he can’t just die! He said he’d protect me!”

“There’s another way,” Thomas spoke. “The Alliance, the Rebellion. They aren’t the only people out there. There are others that can help.”

“What do you mean?” Roman asked, hope tinting his words.

“I was jailed for a book about community. Because in community is where our strength lies. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. There are others like me. Spread out throughout the universe, on every planet. If you showed me a map, I could take us to someone nearby. People that can help. People that help not because they want to use you for their own ends, but because they want to help. Because they believe in community.”

Janus looks to Roman. The twin nodded his head. Janus spoke, “Logan, could you show your father to the cockpit.”

Janus hated the Alliance. They were cruel. The rebellion wasn’t much better. But perhaps, with each other, with this community and the family that they had found on this ship, they could make it. They could survive. And maybe. Just maybe if this plan was just crazy enough to work. They could save Remus too.

Janus pressed a kiss to Remus’s forehead. “Don’t worry. We’re here for you.”

***

Remus awoke wrapped in warmth. The sounds of laughter and chattering voices drifted to his ears. He could hear his brother, his voice loud and boisterous. He was telling a story of their childhood. The time they had stolen a whole pie from the baker and eaten the entire thing in one afternoon. There was the giggle of a child. Logan? His captain spoke next, Janus making some sarcastic comment. Patton admonished the captain. He could hear the smirk in Virgil’s voice, as the pilot joined in.

Was everyone here? Had they all made it?

Remus opened his eyes. He was in bed. Not his bunk but an actual bed, in an actual bedroom. His crew sat in chairs around him. There was a beam of sunlight streaming in through a window. They weren’t on the ship. Where were they?

“Hey sleepy guy, welcome back!” Patton cooed.

His brother reached out his hand and squeezed his shoulder. “Looks like you got your wish, bro. A real-life prison break. But I’m telling you now, we are never doing that again.”

The chaotic twin grinned at his family. He looked down at his bandaged chest and then back to his loved ones, “it was totally worth it.”

Virgil looked about ready to punch him for that comment. But Logan beat him to it, slapping his arm only somewhat playfully, “You are never allowed to do something like that again. Ever again! Okay?” He commanded.

“Aw, alright... But only because there is still so much I want to teach you.”

Logan nodded his head in acknowledgement, “As long as you allow me to teach you about basic safety!”

“Oh, I like this kid.” Virgil chuckled.

And soon everyone had joined in. Sharing stories all about his lack of basic self-preservation instincts.

***

Janus watched as his crew delighted in Remus’s return to the land of the conscious. Turns out Thomas had been right, together they could survive.

taglist: @stop-it-anxiety @hexatrash @ollyollyoxinfree @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @leiasolo77 @arya-skywalker @alexxadontplaydespasito

#sanders sides #janus sanders #all the sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #kid!logan #sanders sides fic #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #my writing

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lotusthekat · 4 years ago

Text

Elegia

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T

Relationships: Lars & Steven, Lars/Sadie, Lars & Lion

Characters: Lars Barriga, Steven Quartz Universe; MINOR ROLES - Sadie Miller, Lion; other characters are only mentioned

Summary: The Pink Lars is a donut like any other. It might be more vibrant than others, both in appearance and taste… but it hasn’t been deprived of its own essence. It hasn’t been brought back as something else, and it has no scar as a haunting reminder. No, the Pink Lars is a cake donut like every other, and everyone loves it.

(Lars would’ve probably changed the name, but he doesn’t want to ruin the nice act from Steven.)

*Takes place after Letters to Lars (s05e16)

Word count: 3.173

AO3 / Fanfiction

A/N: Hello, SU fandom, here’s some good ol’ Lars-centric angst. :) This is probably the biggest existential nightmare I’ve ever written (and I blame Neon Genesis Evangelion for that), so I hope you like this, lmao.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - past canonical character death, thoughts of death, fear of death, trauma and implied past bullying(?)

Elegia: Greek/Latin form of elegy. Also the name of a song by New Order.

el·e·gy

a poem of serious reflection, typically a lament for the dead.

It’s really been two months or so since he’s been away, and it’s quite obvious when Lars returns to the Big Donut; finding not Sadie, but the town’s former mayor. Obviously, he’s been informed by Steven’s letters back in space, yet he wouldn’t contain his surprise. Just Mr. Dewey working at the Big Donut seems to have been attracting a lot more costumers now.

Lars knows he can’t exactly eat, yet Steven insisted he had the pink donut named after him. The Pink Lars is so, well… pink, that even the dough itself isn’t the ordinary donut color. Steven actually orders six of the desserts – as it turns out, it’s become one of his favorites, right along with the chocolate donuts he regularly buys.

There’s quite a lot of people in town today, under the soft, warm blue sky. Steven and Lars soon settle in a bench at the boardwalk, the former already handing the latter one of the pink donuts.

“You think you can give it a try?” Steven wonders.

Lars is, admittedly, not hungry. He has eaten pieces and bits since getting back home, otherwise nothing much. Though a bite might not hurt.

“I guess so,” He accepts. Soon enough, Steven already puts a donut in his mouth. He enjoys it.

Lars, on the other hand, stares at his. It’s possibly the pinkest thing he’s seen – besides Lion and… himself. The donut, however, doesn’t have the same pink tone. Its frosting is sparkling and appealing, but it’s closer to purple, filled with pink sprinkles over a dark pink dough. The difference between his own skin and the food probably goes unnoticed to others’ eyes at first; on the outside, they’re both pink.

Despite the name, Lars knows they’re not the same. The Pink Lars is a donut like any other. It might be more vibrant than others, both in appearance and taste… but it hasn’t been deprived of its own essence. It hasn’t been brought back as something else, and it has no scar as a haunting reminder. No, the Pink Lars is a cake donut like every other, and everyone loves it.

(Lars would’ve probably changed the name, but he doesn’t want to ruin the nice act from Steven.)

“… Lars, are you okay?”

Realization hits him. Lars has really just been contemplating a donut and Steven is reasonably concerned. The pink teenager releases a sigh, to filter the deepness of nonsense filling his head.

“Yeah.” He barely holds up a smile when he returns the donut to the box between him and Steven. “I think I’ll pass. I don’t have the stomach right now… literally.” He lets out a forced laugh.

Steven doesn’t laugh or smile in return, whereas Lars avoids the kid’s big concerned eyes. The younger boy swallows.

“Lars, I…” Knowing what he’s going to say next, Lars doesn’t wait for him to finish.

“It’s okay, Steven. I’m…” He bites his own lip. “I’m glad to be here.”

He’s saying the truth, clearly. But…

… no, Lars doesn’t want to sound selfish and ungrateful. Not to Steven of all people. The half-human boy saved his life, and sure, nothing could be the same again. Lars can’t eat the same way as before; he can literally not function like a human being anymore… but he’s glad he’s gotten this second chance. To be there for the people he loves. To be himself.

(But pink, pink, pink.)

Home has changed. He has changed.

Even so, everyone is fine with him becoming pink. Including his parents. They’re definitely shaken at what happened to Lars, and they were brought to relieved and terrified tears upon finding their son again. Yet almost a few weeks later, it’s almost as though he… hasn’t been to space, even though things are different now. If that makes sense.

Sadie is a lot more open and confident now. She sings with all her might, encapsulating the horror films she’s binged into her music. The Cool Kids are themselves, continuing to live as regular teenagers and discovering new interests, whilst giving life to their instruments. Lars cooks and bakes, and he laughs along with his friends. He introduces the Off Colors to the good things of life on Earth. Steven helps with that, as well as his own gem family. The Rutile Twins, Fluorite, Padparadscha and Rhodonite are having the time of their lives, free, loved, joyful. But most importantly, everyone embraces Lars. Everyone accepts who he is.

Everything is good.

(And Lars can’t accept it.)

Lars realizes he’s afraid of the dark.

The darkness was once a place of comfort for him. No one could really see him there. It was endless, omnipresent. Lars often found himself there.

Yet even with the skyscrapers revealing the night sky, today the boy can’t fathom his bedroom without the reassuring light of his lamp, or any background music at all.

(Holes might catch him. Silently, holes might swallow him again, before Lars can scream for help.)

Lars doesn’t need to sleep, but he knows he can. His eyes almost drift off, almost give in and rest. Yet right now his thoughts are loud and clear. His heart may not beat fast, yet his brain works like a machine nonstop.

His ears are filled with the somber music from his headphones. The lyrics, tragic but hopeful.

Lars thinks.

He thinks of Sadie’s hand against his. Her smile brightening when he’s in the same room. He feels her pressing her head against his shoulder, soft blond hair light to his face. Her macabre voice as Sadie Killer, her make-up, the lights and lasers behind her. Beautiful in every way.

He remembers Steven’s bouncy retellings, his patience, his kindness. Lars remembers the kid’s deep honesty, his comfortable presence. Lars feels their hugs, especially as he’s the one who hugs first nowadays.

Jenny, Buck and Sour Cream are their own souls as he’d always known. They’re fun to be around. They’re smart, funny, and supportive. Genuinely the best friends he could ever have.

He talks to his parents more. They’re more involved. They bake together at the kitchen often, his mother teaching desserts that aren’t in his recipe notebook. She helps him with the following potlucks that the Cool Kids plan. They hug, they say “I love you” to one another. They call him Lars.

The Off Colors look up to him. He’s their captain. They love his home, they excitedly watch the sun setting every single day; they have fun in the rain, when the sky doesn’t crack with lightnings. They trust his guidance, and they will follow him until the very end.

They… love him.

(Why?)

Lars is himself now. He’s open, he’s happy, he’s better.

(Why? Why?)

(Pink. Of course.)

(They love pink. They love the Pink Lars.)

He finds the stars above him. They’re suddenly so small in contrast to outer space.

He doesn’t sleep.

Pictures.

His home is filled with pictures. Many, many faces. So familiar, yet so unknown.

Lars sees him. Not the Pink Lars. Him.

Young, young Lars. Orange-skinned. Dark hair. Brown eyes.

A rare smile of such a young boy. A short-tempered kid excluded from his classmates. One that began pushing away the few people who cared. A boy that screamed and locked himself in his room far too often.

Briefly, Lars sees his own reflection on the glass.

Pink skin. Bright pink hair. His right eye, a saturated color, cut by a dark scar.

Gone.

The boy is gone.

(Why does Lars miss him?)

Something that represents him.

Ube. Purple, creamy, tasty. A childhood memory. The pride in a child’s face, dirtied with speckles of purple.

The Pink Lars. Pink, round, soft, alive; sprinkles as a special touch.

Both so full of life.

Both, true to their essence.

They’re them.

Lars is himself.

(Is he?)

Sadie asks him if he’s okay.

They’re watching a horror film together. Lars can barely pay it any mind.

She takes his hand and kisses every pink finger of his. Her eyes, worried.

Lars smiles sadly.

“Yeah, of course. I’m even better when I’m with you.”

(Sadie looks far from convinced. She knows Lars. She knows he’s always struggled with openness and vulnerability.)

The blond girl says nothing, instead snuggling closer against him, his arm pulling her deeper into his chest. Lars feels relaxed. He enjoys staying like this. He listens to her heartbeats. Her warmth enters his pink veins, butterflies shyly filling his stomach.

(For a moment, he feels like he’s never become pink.)

You brought me back to life! Just… let me be somebody who deserved it.

Somebody who deserved it.

(Did the orange-skinned boy not deserve it, then?)

(He was just a boy. Sure, a kid who made a lot of mistakes. Too many. Who let outside opinions get the best of him. But he could’ve grown, too. Maybe, if he were given a chance other than the inevitable.)

(Did he not deserve a chance, too?)

Can't you see that I exist?

And I don't need an exorcist to let me out

Look at me and I'll appear

Why can't you see that I'm right here, that I’m right here?

Why can't you see me?!

I think I might be

A g-g-g-ghost.

(I'm calling you from the other side.)

Today, he’s alone at the beach.

Usually, Lars joins the Off Colors, and sometimes the Cool Kids come along as well. Now, he’s hiding his hands inside his pockets, lonely steps on the sand. The sunset is the same explosion of colors as every other sunny day.

It’s blue, pink, orange and yellow. The sun reflects on the water, which hits the sand softly.

Its pink is livelier than his own.

The orange is there, too.

They’re here and alive.

Lars stays and watches. Alone.

It’s all so distant. So far away.

Maybe they know the truth. Maybe they’re keeping their distance.

Lars doesn’t try to reach them. It’s probably for the best.

Like that, he’s not expecting to be startled by a big creature staring at him.

Lars almost falls back on the sand, only to realize it’s safe.

Lion.

The only other creature that is as pink as him. Same hair (or mane). Eyes that are not scarred but are deeper than other eyes he’s seen. As if the feline has seen years and years of experience, without sharing words about it.

“Hey, buddy,” Lars greets him, voice quiet.

As usual, the big cat says nothing. Still, he gazes at the pink space pirate and understands. Lion snuggles his face against Lars’, who sighs and hugs him back, arms tight around his neck.

Lion practically has no heartbeat, unlike Sadie, or Steven or anyone else. His deep breaths are the only remaining of life he has.

The distant seagulls sing somewhere. But somehow, all Lars listens to is Lion.

His eyes blur.

The town is so distant.

… Literally.

Lars casually figured out that he can walk on water like Jesus now. That’s something. He told Steven and the boy was enthusiastic about it, of course. And well, it is cool. He can see the fish swimming down him, and he gets to touch the sun that reflects on the water. Otherwise, he can’t go for swims anymore, while everyone else can.

He’s fine.

There’s no sun or powerful colors this time. The sky is clouded, foggy, yet the ocean doesn’t react too much. The water is usually not furious, anyway.

It might rain soon.

Lars can actually sit on water, too. So, he hugs his own knees and thinks. Stays.

…

Someone is coming.

“Lars?”

Looking up, he finds Steven riding on Lion, with a puzzled look.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hey, man,” Lars gives him a finger gun. “I’m just chilling here. Got to use my Jesus privileges now, am I right?”

Steven doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t look remotely reassured.

(He understands. He wouldn’t find it funny, either.)

Isolated dripples begin surrounding them.

“Come on, let’s go to my house,” Steven offers. “It might be dangerous staying here.”

Lars hums, noticing the fish have all gone away. He stands.

“Okay.”

In the way, Lars tries to throw in a joke or two about the whales he found near him earlier. Steven still won’t laugh or find it endearing. And Lion simply listens.

When they enter the beach house, the rain starts coming down. The ocean practically disappears in the fog now.

(He almost wishes he stayed.)

The falling water outside is the only sound you could hear, besides the questions in the kid’s puppy eyes. Instead of answering them, though, Lars has an idea.

“Hey, what do you say I bake those space cookies you like so much?” The older teen offers, patting the boy’s shoulder. “You have the ingredients, right?”

“I think so, but…”

“Great! You can help me if you want.”

He ignores Steven’s frown and heads to the kitchen, already knowing where the ingredients are thanks to memory. Lion lies somewhere near, attentive. Though unlike other times the three of them have shared the kitchen, the big cat might not want to attack the ingredients today. Lion is as lazy as the rain day.

The baking session is… surprisingly quiet. Lars is the one that does the talking this time, trying to cheer the kid up. Steven doesn’t seem fazed. He just follows the steps. Lars’ smile will falter little by little, yet he keeps going. Maybe that will change by the frosting, Lars hopes. The kid loves frosting the cookies, more than he does.

But then, Steven is just… there. Staring at the star-shaped fellas without any enthusiasm. Staring concernedly at them, as if something is wrong with them, even though they’re perfectly fine.

“Hey, Steve,” Lars lowers his voice and puts a hand on his back. “What’s wrong?”

(He knows what it is. And Steven knows that he knows.)

For the first time, Steven looks away and hugs his own arm.

“I… I think I should be asking you that.”

(Lars shouldn’t be shocked. He isn’t.)

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever actually asked how you’ve been lately,” Steven admits. “I was so excited to have you back home, and have everyone see you again, that I thought you’d be fine.” He sighs and adds quieter, rather bitterly at himself. “But I’ve never been good at asking the right questions.”

Lars contains the harsh breath that tries to escape, and he gently pats his friend’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay, buddy. You’ve got nothing to worry about me.”

Steven looks back with something akin to disbelief.

“Lars—”

“I mean it, I’m okay.”

“But you’re—”

“Kid, I swear, I’m fine.”

“I don’t want to force you—”

“You’re not forcing me, Steven,” Lars reassures him. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“You’re—” Steven observes dumbly and groans. “Why won’t you just talk to me?”

(It’s the same look from the pictures. From the gone, lost boy.)

(Revolted. Pushed aside.)

(Hurt.)

“T-There’s nothing to talk about!” Lars defends.

“I’m not stupid!”

“I never said you were!”

“Then why are you treating me like I am?!”

“Steven, it’s fine! I’m fine-!”

“NO!” Lars steps away. “STOP LYING TO ME!”

Whatever words were about to be said, they disappear at the sudden voice raise. At the angry – no, frustrated, tearful eyes. The clenched fists.

(Why does Steven look so much like him?)

Steven covers his own mouth, scared of his outburst. He recomposes himself or at least tries to.

“I… I thought we could count on each other. I thought—” He sniffs. “I thought, after we were stuck together, after everything we’ve been through, w-we could… be there for one another. You were there for me, you’re always there for me.” He pauses, his eyes more and more painful to look at. “But now you’re… you’re suffering, and you want to, what, you want to hide it from us? From me?”

Lars’ heart drops. “No- No, no, Steven, I’m- I’m fine—” He almost approaches again, only to get yelled at.

“Stop! I don’t need to be coddled! And you don’t need to hurt yourself for me! For anyone! Y-You of all people told me that!”

After that, Lars has become completely silent. There’s nothing around them, nothing but the rain falling outside, the shaky breaths coming from Steven, and Lion’s observation. The cookies are abandoned in the counter.

(And somewhere, somewhere far, a boy is screaming from his room, locked away.)

(Crying.)

“Lars…” Steven’s anger has dissipated again. “I’m sorry. I know I messed up. I know things won’t be the same again, and I know you want them to be. I’ve noticed.” He hugs himself, guilt filling his avoidant gaze. “Believe me, if I could go back in time, I would’ve never let you go in that ship. I would’ve never let you…” He shuts his eyes for a moment, clutching his own shirt. “I wish I could fix everything. But I can’t. And I’m really, really sorry.”

Lars would have opened his mouth to reassure him. He would have pulled him in a hug and tell him again and again that it wasn’t his fault. But Steven seems to catch onto that thought, because he then says:

“Even if I didn’t mean to… and even if I saved you in the end, I… I still did this to you.” He pauses. For once, he takes in a deep breath. “So, I promise you, I’ll do what I can to make up for it. I… I don’t know much about my powers.” He begins taking a step forward. “I don’t know how to feel about them most of the time, and I’m still trying to understand how Lion’s work, too, but…”

Steven looks up at him, eyes sparkling like the starry sky Lars sees every night.

“We… we can figure out. Together.” He looks away again, adding, “If you want.”

Lars locks the gaze with him, and before he registers it, a laugh escapes him.

“Yeah.” He swallows a sob. “Y-Yeah… I’d- I’d like that.”

For the first time, Steven smiles yet he immediately bumps into the other’s waist, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

“I’m so sorry…” The kid repeats. Once Lars returns the hug, he freezes when he catches Steven’s following words.

“… You never deserved to die.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper, only for him to hear.

And yet it feels like a complete punch. The good kind of punch.

Lars loses it.

They cry as hard as the rain. So much that Lion eventually joins the hug, offering his support.

Later, they create the cookies together with more delight and trust. They’re more… alive than all the others they’ve baked until now.

Tonight, Lars gazes at the stars with tranquility.

(He lets the boy free.)

#steven universe #lars barriga #steven quartz universe #su lion #sadie miller #larsadie #fanfiction #death tw

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

Text

FIC: Terms of Engagement ch.8

Summary: Rus is still a kid himself and with his life turned upside-down, he has no idea how he’s going to take care of his baby brother. Having other kid skeletons appear in his world wasn’t exactly the help he was looking for.

Tags: Pre-Spicyhoney, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Undertale Sans, Undertale Papyrus, Babybones, Scientist W. D. Gaster, Possible Past Child Abuse, Skellie Daycare, Growing Up Together, Big Brothers Caring For Their Little Bros, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Violence

Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

~~*~~

Read Chapter Eight on AO3

Read It Here!

~~*~~

~~ Sixteen Years Ago ~~

The lab didn’t have what could be called a kitchen, exactly. The only thing that could be considered close was the old vending machine and Rus cleared that out years ago, back when the scientist went…well…wherever he went. That along with a broken coffee machine was about the only gear they’d been left with at the beginning.

Over the years, Rus jerry-rigged a sort of cooking nook in one of the lab rooms. He hated in there, the almost-memories that lurked in the corners, the large glass tubes that he still sometimes dreamed about, of looking out through the blur of liquid at a distorted face that looked back.

The tubes were empty now, one of them broken and the glass carefully cleaned away so curious little baby bones couldn’t hurt themselves, but they were still there, skulking like unwanted sentries.

These days Rus could mostly ignore them, and it wasn’t as if he had a lot of choice over where to set up. His little kitchen area had to be in this room because it was the only one with a gas hookup for the Bunsen burners. Two of which were on, the flames carefully lowered to a steady medium height.

Over one was a battered old pot with canned tomato soup simmering away. On another was a genuine cast iron pan that Rus found in the dump, rusty and discarded. Took him a long time to scrape in clean and season it, but it was worth the effort. The surface was smooth as glass, glossy black and Rus might be a shit cook but one thing he knew was the value of good equipment.

He was slicing the bread when he heard it. Close to the doorway there was a scuffling sound, one he knew pretty well by now. That was the sound of a little skeleton trying, and failing, to be quiet and he didn’t have to look to guess at who was trying to play ninja warrior behind his back.

“you were supposed to stay with the others,” Rus said without turning around. All the better to cement the idea that big bros had eyes on the backs of their skulls.

A small, stifled gasp, yep, someone knew the jig was up and from the corner of his socket, Rus could see Edge shuffling miserably inside, ready to be sent back to the playroom where Blue and Papyrus were probably still making use of the box of crayons Rus spoiled them with a few weeks ago. If nothing else, the lab had plenty of paper lying around, most of it covered with weird symbols, formulas that the kids all gleefully scribbled over.

Edge had been less enthused than the others when Rus plunked him down with his own papers and that was tough titty, kitty. Trial and error was a good teacher and Rus learned one lesson pretty damn quick; corral the kids before trying to cook anything. Without the trouble trio, he at least had a chance of making something reasonably edible.

That left him with a solo act and Edge came over to stand beside him, his little skull still a good few inches too short to let him look over the countertop.

“I wanted to be with you, Russy,” Edge said mournfully. From the depths of sorrow in the kid’s voice, you’d think Rus stepped away for a decade or two instead of fifteen minutes.

“yeah? that so?” Rus said, still not looking down. Letting that sweet, sweet guilt keep piling on. “what’s the rule?”

He could hear Edge squirming, as if he were weighing the odds of waiting to see if Rus somehow forgot the question. When the hoped-for reprieve didn’t come, a meek, almost inaudible whisper floated up, “To stay in the playroom.”

“uh huh. and where are you?”

Another long moment of painful hoping, then, even softer, “Not in the playroom.”

“yep,” Rus agreed, “that’s what it looks like to me, too. what do you think we should do about that, kid?”

No answer, only a miserable, hitched breath trying to add that guilt trip back onto Rus’s itinerary, only it wasn’t gonna work this time.

What he needed to do was frogmarch his little escape artist right back to the playroom, for reasons of: A. before the other two came looking for him and B. to show him he couldn’t just disobey the rules whenever he wanted.

Rus glanced down at Edge sternly, all ready to order him right back where he came from…and ended up looking right into his huge, pleading sockets, tears already standing out and ready to brim over to trail down his pudgy little cheek bones to his quivering little chin.

Rus sighed. Really, how was he supposed to say no to that?

“c’mere, kiddo.” He reached down to pick Edge up and the way his expression brightened with delight was enough to make it worth the pile of trouble this was probably gonna cause.

He hoped.

He set Edge down on the counter-top a safe distance away from the burners. The kid looked at the setup with interest, his wide eye lights drinking it all in eagerly.

“wanna help me make grilled cheese?” Rus offered, resigned to his fate.

“Yes!” Edge shouted in a fair attempt at deafening them both. Rus twisted a knuckle against his audial canal and shook his head, reaching for the butter.

“okay, first, we have to put butter on the bread.”

“Why?” Edge asked promptly, ‘cause Angel knew that Edge always had two questions for every statement.

“toasts better, taste better, take your pick. see?” Rus scraped the butter knife over the bread and left a mostly even smear behind. Then he held out the knife, handle first, “okay, kiddo, your turn.”

From the reverent way Edge took the knife, you would’ve thought Rus handed over Excalibur. He carefully mimicked what Rus showed him, his little red tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he slowly spread the butter. He held it up proudly when he was finished, nicely coated and ready for toasting. “There!”

“good job!” Rus said and he really hoped his disgruntlement that the little brat was a hell of a lot better at that than he was didn’t show in his voice. He set Edge’s in the pan to toast, handing over his slightly mangled piece. “see if you can fix that one while i prep the cheese.”

‘Cheese’ was probably a pretty loose term for it. Yeah, it was orange, and yeah, it was in slices, but that was about as close as it got. Gerson didn’t even keep it refrigerated and there was always plenty on her dusty shelves when Rus made the trip to Waterfall for supplies on days someone else had the kids, because he could hit up the dump on the way and make it a twofer, especially if he could find something to sell. The DVD of ‘Jerry Maguire’ he dug out that paid for the crayons was a good case in point.

Rus unwrapped a slice of the pseudo-cheese and plopped it on the bread. Even the noise it made was undairy-like and it was a good thing that shit tasted so good or Rus wouldn’t scrape up the G for it it all the time. By then, Edge had smoothed over the buttery lumps on the other slice of bread and Rus added it to the pile, sealing its cheesy fate. The rich, toasty smell that rose up as it sizzled away was enough to make Rus’s mouth water. He hadn’t eaten yet today, supplies were a little low and his soul was crying out for food. Rus ignored it. The kids came first, once they were full, he’d make his own.

“You should flip it,” Edge said suddenly.

“huh?” Rus frowned at him, “no, it’s not cooked yet.”

“Yes, it is,” Edge said, insistently. He picked up the spatula from the counter and held it out as he added ominously, “it’ll burn.”

“it will no—fine,” Rus sighed. Worst that could happen was an ‘I told you’ so and another flip. He carefully slid the spatula beneath the sandwich and managed to turn it over without accidentally hurling it across the room and if anyone asked, that stain on the wall had always been there. Rus stared down in disbelief. The bread was a perfect golden-brown, cheese slowly starting to glisten and ooze at the edges. He turned to Edge and demanded, “how did you know that, squirt?”

Edge only looked at him and said matter-of-factly. “’cause when you leave it on as long as you think it needs, it burns.”

Ouch. Called out by a kid half his height, yeesh, that was gonna leave a mark.

It stung unexpectedly, making Rus blink hard against the sudden prickle of tears. He was trying, okay, it wasn’t his fault he was shitty at cooking and even shittier at budgeting enough for food, it wasn’t his fault that he’d already left off wearing stripes to keep anyone seeing him from asking too many question even if he and Red and Sans went through the calculations once out of a spiteful sort of curiosity and figured they were all maybe, maybe, fifteen, if you counted leap years, it wasn’t his fucking fault and—

“Russy? Are you okay?”

Rus startled and nearly dropped the sandwich. Hastily, he slid it onto a plate, slapping the spatula down to scrub at his sockets with his sleeve. Edge was looking at him, all wide-socketed worry and Rus managed to scrape up a wobbly smile.

“yep, just fine,” Rus said, a little roughly, and when Edge only looked at him doubtfully Rus scooped him up and tickled him until the kid was squealing laughter, “yeah, that’s right, you so smart, but i’m still bigger!”

“Stop, stop,” Edge begged, giggling frantically. Rus tickled him a fraction of a minute longer, then made to set him down on the countertop. Only for Edge to cling to him, hugging him hard. “I love you, Russy.”

Yeah, keep this up and he was gonna have to mop in here ‘cause his soul was gonna be a puddle on the floor. “love you, too, brat.” He set Edge back down and tapped the little nodule of his nasal cavity with a fingertip, “now let’s get cooking before papyrus try to eat the crayons again.” Edge gave him a guilty look and Rus groaned, “he didn’t.”

“I told him the purple one wasn’t grape!”

Welp, so much for the crayons. Rus only shook his head and handed Edge more bread to butter. They had sandwiches to make and if Papyrus’s teeth were more rainbow than not when they got there, at least he left room for lunch.

~~*~~

~~ Now ~~

Despite this place leaving Rus feeling off-kilter, there was at least one thing both their universes had in common; Snowdin was fucking cold. Rus watched Edge head on after the kids until he disappeared around a corner and then took his own shivering butt back inside. Should’ve grabbed his hoodie too instead of just his smokes, too rattled by losing his shortcuts to even consider he was inviting a little bonus frostbite.

Red was sprawled on the sofa, picking idly at his teeth for any breakfast leftovers with a toothpick. He flicked it idly in the direction of the trash while Rus closed the door and missed, left it dangling precariously on the lip of the can.

“not sure if that should be worth anything but negative points.” Rus kicked off his shoes and tried not to notice that the snow helped wash away some of the marrow spattering his shoes, leaving behind dingy rust-colored streaks.

“nah, worth at least two points for pissing off my bro,” Red said. He sat up, one foot on the sofa cushion and the other dangling as he asked bluntly, “got your head on straight?”

No. “yeah, i think so.” Rus sank down on the other side of the sofa, propping his stocking feet on the coffee table. “so, now what?”

“welp, now that we’ve got our stories straight, let’s talk about the problem.”

Rus tipped his head back to look up at the ceiling, studying it. There was a discoloration in one corner, maybe from an old leak. “problem being how to get me back home.”

“yeah, that’s the one and it might be a little harder than ya think.” Red exhaled long and slow. “the machine ain’t here.”

Of all things, that was the last Rus expected. For a long minute, Rus kept looking at the ceiling, idly wondering if the stain on it looked more like a cat in a tuxedo or a bird sitting in a teacup, it didn’t quite register, because that? That made no sense, not at all, not when laid next to Red’s reasons for not coming to live Underswap all those years ago. Rus sat up straight and turned to look at Red. Who was doing his own ceiling survey, maybe trying to decide himself on that stain, could even be a dinosaur learning how to tap dance if you looked at it right and none of that fucking matter because what Red was saying couldn’t be right, it was unthinkable, inconceivable.

“but—” The word stuck in his throat and Rus swallowed hard, trying to unstick it, managed to stumble out, “but…you said…you stayed so no one could use it!”

“did,” Red agreed, grimly. His eye lights flicked from the cat/bird/dinosaur to Rus, meeting his horrified gaze. “only, i didn’t have your little travel pass to move it and we didn’t have time to figure anything else out, so had to go with the next best thing.”

That tone was not at all what Rus wanted to hear, far too grim and there was only one reason he could even conceive of for it, the one thing he hadn’t even wanted to consider, not even once while he was sitting here in a house that was not, quite, a mirror image of his own and his brother was a universe away, all alone with no idea what happened to him.

“you destroyed it?” Rus whispered. His voice broke, cracked right in the middle like a plate dropped on a hard floor.

“almost did,” Red said bluntly. Rus pulled in a long, slow breath. “prolly should’ve, but edge didn’t want me to. cause’a you, you know.”

“me?” Rus said, surprised.

“you,” Red repeated, a touch mockingly, “always shoving all that hope shit in their heads, helpin’ others to help themselves, all that piss and hokum. if things got better here, he was figurin’ we could go back someday. he’s been workin’ on that ‘better’ part ever since we walked out of the lab.”

Better, a better world. Rus thought about the wall around this Snowdin, the protective spells woven into it. About XP hunters lurking in the woods and the difference between Monsters and monsters. “how’s that going?”

Red shrugged, “can’t save the world, but he’s not doing too shabby in his corner of it.” The words were flippant, but his eye lights were fond. Then Red gave himself a little shake and pointed at the coffee table. By Rus’s propped-up feet was a plain cardboard box and he leaned forward, cautiously lifting the lid as Red said, “didn’t wreck it but i did take all these.”

Inside the box was a pile of little bundles wrapped in what looked like scraps of an old t-shirt. Cautiously, Rus opened one, holding up the contents to get a better look. A component, a card of green fiberglass with winding lanes of copper and bristling with transistors. He wrapped it back up hastily and put it back in the box with the other parts. Tucked into the side was a folded piece of paper and Rus plucked it out and opened it, studying what looked like a rough schematic.

“you numbered all the parts,” Rus murmured, studying it.

“yeah, well, didn’t want to try guessin’ which tab a fit into what slot b when the time came,” Red snorted. “rus, i ain’t gonna butter your bread ‘bout this. the machine’s still at the lab, the new royal scientist’s been there for years now, and she ain’t one to mess with. we pulled a drop cloth over it ‘fore we took off, but for all i know, she’s gutted it for parts. it’s a long shot for sure, but that’s our best bet so that’s what we’re goin’ with.”

Rus nodded slowly. “so we go to the lab.”

“fuck, no!” Red sputtered, sitting up stock-straight as he glared at Rus, “didn’t ya hear me? alphys is nuts and even if she wasn’t, she ain’t about to let us prance in and start tinkering.”

That was certainly news, especially with the name tucked in there.

“alphys?” Rus blurted out, astonished, “seriously? the head of the royal guard?” Alphys was a tough ol’ bird but Rus was pretty sure any experiments she did involved punching out the results.

“heh, really?” Red shook his head, “we need to sit down sometime and compare notes, see if we can figure out the difference ‘tween our worlds.” Red shifted, all amusement fading, “here she’s the royal scientist and fucking around with her is a good way to spend the rest of your time taking in dinner through a straw, and that’s only if you don’t end up on a metal table.” A barely perceptible shiver when through Red, “think we’ve all had enough of that.”

Understatement. “so how are we going to get to the machine?” Rus asked.

“simple,” Red leaned forward, his eye lights determined. “you can’t do your shortcuts, but maybe i can. so you’re gonna teach me your little parlor trick and i’m gonna teleport in.”

Before Rus could ‘what the fuck’ that little plan, Edge came back in. A sharp look from Red warned him to keep his trap shut and Rus obeyed it, for now, trying to look completely innocent and not as if he and Red were busily making what was probably an upgraded version of a suicide pact.

“did you catch up to the kids?” Rus asked.

Edge smiled. It lifted the corners of his sockets, and again Rus was struck at the sight, the sweet kid he knew so long ago peeking out from beneath that scarred exterior. “I did. I hope you weren’t expecting your G back, I let them keep it as a souvenir.”

“do i wanna ask?” Red sighed out.

“Probably not. I’m going on patrol,” Edge announced and started to suit up, “I’ll come back for lunch, was there anything specific you’d like?”

“nah, i’m easy,” Rus said. He ignored Red’s sudden snort, “i’ll eat anything, even take a grilled cheese, if you’ve got it.”

“I can manage that,” Edge paused with his chest plate above his head, sending Rus a sharp smile and Rus wondered abruptly if he was remembering the same thing, that long ago day in the kitchen nook together, confirmed it with a sly, “I promise not to burn it.”

“hey!” Rus sputtered. Not much defense against the truth, so instead he sulked and watched Edge finish suiting up. The armor made him look so much more imposing, more than any scar possibly could and yet, when he headed for the door, Rus couldn’t help blurting out, “be careful out there.”

Edge paused. He walked over to the sofa on strangely silent feet and reached over. Rus sat frozen as he lightly touched Rus’s cheekbone, his gloved fingertips rough, the stiff material unforgiving and yet, the touch itself was soft, as gentle as his words, “I will, Russy.”

The nickname snapped Rus out of his little trance. “seriously, you can just call me rus,” he grumbled.

“I really couldn’t,” Edge said. He turned away and strode off in a clank of armor. The door closed behind him with a decisive click and Rus huffed out an aggravated sigh.

“your brother is a pain in the ass.” The expected agreement didn’t come, and Rus turned to see Red looking at him strangely, “what?”

A long moment of silence. “nothin’, bean pole,” Red said, finally, “he’s somethin’, all right. how about you go take a nap, get off that leg for a little bit and we’ll head out later and start workin’ on upgrading my stats.”

Rus opened his mouth, ready to protest that they needed to get the hell started if this was the plan, he needed to get home. Only to close it again, words unspoken, because he wasn’t gonna teach Red to shortcut in a day or a week or whatever, it took him ages to be able to shortcut reliably without it snapping back like an invisible rubber band, knocking him ass over teakettle while Sans laughed his ass off.

This wasn’t gonna be a fast fix and there wasn’t thing one he could do about it. Rus nodded and headed upstairs, let himself into Edge’s room to curl up on the bed that wasn’t his while he tried to stifle tears into the blankets

Eventually, he gave up and just cried, let it all come out of him in one long, miserable burst, until he was a snotty mess. When it was done, he felt mostly better, a little worse, and he settled down to sleep. The blankets smelled kinda like cookies, Rus decided sleepily, cookies when they were still spicy warm, and it was his last thought before he drifted into an exhausted sleep.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #baby bones #terms of engagement

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