#and he cries and goes to shoot her with a shotgun | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

answrs · 2 years ago

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asdfhjkl this is fuckin,,,,,, 17 pages of unfinished and rewritten dp/msa crossover. from TWO THOUSAND FRICKIN FIFTEEN. i am not going to be able to resist editing/adding more to this (which is the ENTIRE REASON IT NEVER GOT POSTED IN THE FIRST PLACE COUGH COUGH SELF) so i am sticking it under a cut, pressing send, then going to do errands in order to physically stop myself from spending 16 hours nitpicking it. also tunglr.hell deletes all the original formatting when pasting stuff in so all the italics/bold/strikethrough are missing rip.

please note! this is an original draft and then a rewritten (but mostly just different parts of the outline) second part.

im just. gonna paste the second one’s author note here (written circa 2016) and leave y’all to it:

stern fatherly disapproval I've been going back through the old dp/msa posts and I have to say, I am very disappointed in all of you. honestly, with such pride we take in over-angsting for BOTH fandoms, that there wasn’t much if any discussion to be seen on this is shocking. (Though, to be fair, I just now remembered I wrote this all the way back then and never published it, buT THE POINT STANDS. My inability to write more than ¾ of a fic before getting distracted and forgetting to finish it is only moderately related to this discussion.) At least it’s edited now, I guess? By which I mean completely rewritten. (you can still tell the parts connecting the main sections are a bit ‘eh’ but, well, ‘eh’.)

Summary: Danny captures Lewis in the thermos (as he does) and tosses him in the Ghost Zone like the rest of the town’s ghostly visitors. This is a bad thing.

“dp/ms zone - Created Aug 27, 2015″

The Skulls are driving through amity park, arthur at the wheel, vivi shotgun with the current traveling deadbeat curled at her feet (the rest are at home guarding the mansion), and Lewis in the back with mystery. Danny's ghost sense goes off as this van passes by, almost as ridiculous looking as his parents own vehicle. he looks in to see a large ghost apparently hiding in the back, the two tourists up front unaware. whatever it's planning can't be good, so he shoots in, sucks up the ghost, and flies off to the alarmed shouts trailing behind him. rather than just being startled at a ghost in their van like Danny thinks (though they are, at him just popping up suddenly), the humans cries are at seeing Phantom abduct their boo for seemingly no reason. not even mystery could react before the kid was off, grinning and waving back at them like he'd just had a job well done. the poor deadbeat is terrified, master has just been taken by a ghost hunter but they have to stay with mistress vivi and mister arthur. arthur slams on the breaks, throwing the van around to tear after the ghost, but he's disappeared. the four are devastated, turning back to the hotel, vivi clutching the now crying spirit like a lifeline. immediately they set to work researching phantom, hoping for any clue to find him and their taken spirit. the next day, Danny comes downstairs to find his parents talking to... visitors? clients? they look exhausted but kind of familiar, so he listens in from the steps outside the kitchen. please, you have to help us. phantom took our friend and you're the people who study this town you must know where to find him we just got him back we can't lose him again please help us we've looked everywhere please- what do you mean, phantom's taken your friend? had the ghost finally started attacking humans outright? there was this big flash and he was gone and he was holding this metal thing and oh honey, its okay, don't worry, there's no way that could have been your friend. phantom uses one of our thermoses and it only works on ghosts. but Lewis IS a spirit! how can you be friends with a ghost, that doesn't make sense. they're too violent and unstable to have consistent rational thought, let alone form attachments... what? how could you- how dare you say something like that! we've been paranormal investigators for years and Lewis is our best friend, don't you dare accuse him of being a mindless creature! how can you call yourselves scientists when you're just as prejudiced as all those stupid hunters we meet! if you won't help us, we'll find phantom ourselves, and we'll get our friend back no matter what we have to go through to do it! Danny sits frozen as the two storm out, guilt creeping in as he absorbs the conversation. he'd just done what he normally did on patrol, how was he supposed to know this ghost was somehow different? he was just taking it out before it could do anything funny, but now he was the one in the wrong? (he won't admit he sees ghosts like his parents do, always up to something malicious and never just innocent bystanders) not liking this feeling, he slips out of the house and trots after the group, quickly catching up. uh, hey. i, uh, heard about your friend and I think I can help... meet me outside Fentonworks at 11 tonight, my parents will be asleep by then so don't ring the doorbell. before they can get a word in, I have to go back, so dont be late! and runs back, turning a corner and going invisible before they can catch up. okay, he's just bought himself some time to fix this, he just needs to make some calls first... he'd just tossed the disoriented ghost (Lewis?) through the portal, not dumped him further in like he does with some of his enemies. he shouldn't be that hard to find. 1030 finds the three living members of the mystery skulls standing before the fentons house. at her side, vivi clutches a bag housing their remaining spirit, warded with nearly every spell in the book and some others besides. if phantom tried to take their deadbeat too, he was gonna have to fight for it. the research they'd done that day didn't make their moods any lighter. video clips of fantastical ghost fights helped them piece together that phantom took his captured enemies to a place called the ghost zone. further study had pulled up dozens of reports on the place, from an incident stranding part of the town there. while interview descriptions of the event ranged wildly, the common details said it was huge, green, and swarming with aggressive ghosts. and from the videos of some of these fights, no matter how strong he might be, Lewis's chances weren't looking good. Sam and tucker round the corner to see three unknown silhouettes clustered on the sidewalk ahead. reflexively their hands dart to their weapons, before they connect Danny's descriptions to the group ahead. damn, they were early then. hopefully Danny was ready and not just doing something stupid. (oh who were they kidding, he was always doing something stupid.) as they approach, the dog tenses, and the two humans whip around to stare at the teens. seeing as they've been spotted already, they close the remaining distance with quick strides. the woman is the first to speak, suspicion bleeding into her worried voice. and who might you two be then? I'm sam, this is tucker. we're here to help Danny find your ghost since he's a horrible driver and couldn't read a screen to save his life. so since you're here already I'll just text him to come let us in. they get a grunt in acknowledgement from the male, but it's otherwise silent for the few minutes they spend waiting for the door to open. greengreengreen EVERYWHERE, no ground beneath your feet to stop you falling, falling... the space scattered with thousands of pointed rocks and green fog twisting through them... and if this is Arthur's reaction, Lewis is even worse off. and he's been stuck here not for minutes, but hours, days. reliving his death over and over, no reprieve from the constant memories. the team is so focused on Arthur's reaction it's not until mystery renders him unconscious they turn to vivi. standing stock still, unfocused eyes staring unblinking out the window, trembling with near invisible tears trailing down her face. because her boys aren't the only ones with memories of the cave, and while she may be the "strong" one of the group, when it comes to reminders of that night her ptsd is no less real. there you are dipstick! I've been looking all over for you! not now, ember, get out of the way. can't you see I'm busy? not until you tell me why you thought it was a good idea to toss a spirit into the ghost zone. are you completely mental? huh? don't play dumb with me, not even you wouldn't be able to tell. he looks nothing like a ghost! it's all we've been able to do by keeping guard, none of us can even get close to the guy with the state he's in! what are you even talking about-! vivi shoves his head away from the glass, calling out to the flaming musician. yell at him later, tell us where Lewis is now! ember looks down at the new human, sizing her up before nodding, gliding away. I still don't get it, what was she even going on about? I mean yeah, I shouldn't have tossed the guy in here, but the rest of that? what did that even mean? I believe I may be able to explain, a voice calls from the back, and all three kids jerks their heads around to stare at the (talking!) dog. (what the hell?) sam nearly crashes the speeder into an island before she collects herself enough to glance back at the window. ignoring their reactions, mystery continues to speak from his place in Arthur's lap, the mechanic petting him robotically (heh.). I didn't recognize it at first from the descriptions, but now I'm here I can tell this ghost zone, as you put it, is one part of the realm of the dead. the place we just left, your real world, is the realm of the living. ghosts, at least the ones that you know, are formed and exist in this dead realm. it's where they draw their energy from, regardless of whatever focus or reason they have for their being. a ghost that spends too long in the human world would begin to break down, the very reality chipping away at them piece by piece. similarly, a human spending too long unprotected in the ghosts world would suffer similar effects, their body fighting against what knows they should not be there. that's why, for instance, demons must be summoned from their own realm and strike deals with humans to stay on that plain. he looks straight at Danny beings that have rights, as it were, to both places may come and go as they please with no ill effects. i, for instance, may pass through both living and yokai realms if I were to so choose.

[anchor is physical, ties to world]

Lewis, however, is a spirit, brought forth and tied to the living realm. he's one of the, we call them ghosts, but imprints might be a better title, that make up the majority of 'ghost' activity humans encounter... well, outside of this town, at least.

I assume the ghosts you know of fall into different types or species, probably based on their power level or abilities. our own ghosts, or spirits as the name here for them seems to be, are much the same. they can range anywhere from vague wisps of an idea to a fully formed consciousness equal to or even above their former human status.

[these former-living are connected to physical objects, vessels, their soul reside in. this anchor, as we call it, thus ties them to the human realm, being a real, semi-physical object. it's a shell of sorts, breaking a ghost's anchor destroys the (self contained environment), releasing and exposing their soul, which unprotected dissipates very quickly.]

as for how this relates back to the idea of realms, well, the lower the power of an entity the easier it is to be torn apart... he pauses at Vivi's sudden realization, dashing to the forgotten bag on the seat. tearing open the pouch, she lets out a quiet 'oh thank the gods' as a tiny pink head pops out, chirping in concern. it winds its way into Vivi's arms, nuzzling her cheek. the woman looks at mystery, hoping that protection he had talked about was working on the deadbeat too. he nodded, as long as they were to stay in this vehicle, they'd probably be safe from harm. probably. I'd also suggest arthur stay too, even if he wasn't already... compromised, he looked over to the teens, still listening closely. suffice to say the scenery would certainly not be good for him. and for him to be the first thing Lewis sees after such an episode, arthur stiffens and the dog looks up at him sadly, even if he knows rationally it's not the you he thinks it is, he won't be in his right mind... it's gonna be okay, arthur. vivi settles beside the blond and leans against him, careful not to squish the spirit nestled in her arms. it'll just be like those first few weeks with the dreams. which i mean isn't ideal, obviously, but we've survived it once already, we can do it again if we have to. and it's not like before where he'd been alone for a year, it's really only been, what, a few hours, a day? um, actually... the trio (plus one) looks up, having already forgotten they weren't alone in the vehicle. i, uh, so that whole thing with different realities your, uh, dog? was talking about? heh, yeah, so... funny thing about the zone is, um. time goes differently in here. so like, an hour here is only a few minutes in the real, or, erm, living world... vivi completed the kids thought ...and a few hours on our side would be... days... oh gods no, Lewis. Danny flinches, another shot of guilt stabbing his conscience. ugh, of all the ghosts (or, er, spirits?) he could have snagged yesterday it had to have been this one. the only ghost in the whole town that couldn't live (unlive?) in the zone and was apparently afraid of the color green. just perfect. good Phantom, best hero. the speeder slows as ember approaches a group of ghosts, floating in a protective circle around an island about the size of a small house. they turn to glare at the vehicle, but at embers dismissive wave part to let the craft land. as soon as the door opens a blue blur shoots out, followed closely by a smaller white figure and finally the ghost child. the sight of Lewis when they finally reach him is horrible. he'd flown blindly until he found a larger rock to land on, one with a sort of raised wall on one side to keep his back to. images from the cave played out in a high definition loop before him, even curled on the ground he could still feel himself falling, falling...

now his hands are digging into the flesh around his eyes, still desperately begging the images away. even scrunched into a ball the gaping hole that is his chest is obvious, the constant trembling and whimpers only adding to the gory display. his heart, golden and whole before, has gone pitch black, more cracks than actual pieces at this point and only held together by the strange atmosphere of the zone. the same atmosphere doing a number on the rest of him, draining his power to dangerous lows. they can see the rock behind him, and not just through the bloody window in his chest. it's been so much longer for him, even without the flashbacks draining him at this point he'd still be pretty bad off. he feels like he's been left to rot, abandoned for days, months, years, only his mind for company. maybe karma has finally caught him up and dragged him to hell, just like he must deserve for what he's done. what else would this place be for, catered so perfectly to his failures? he doesn't know how long it's been, only that he's so, so tired. even the agonizing pain in his chest has faded, his whole body numb. cold. who is he? he can't remember, his mind is too foggy. where is he? he shouldn't be here. why? this place is... bad. green. green makes bad things happen. the green had laughed. not-green had been hurt. when? who was green? why? (Lewis!) L..ew...is? something about it sounds familiar. like purple and pink and warm and happy. but. no. Lewis is black and white and cold cold cold. like him. is he him? he can't tell what his color is. was. are? something is touching him. it moves the dark away and he sees blue. blue... what is blue's name again? it says something, but all he hears is static. he can't move and blue is raining. no, that's not right. blue is happy and smiles and love, not sad, never sad, why is blue sad?

his last coherent thought, before finally fading out, is please don't be sad, blue. as vivi reaches the collapsed spirit, her fear of losing Lewis again somehow worsens. she knows what lengths Lewis would go to before using this form, and that she can see straight through him means his energy is even lower than she'd feared. grabbing a wrist she pries a hand from his eyes, only for the revealed pupil to be a dull and cloudy purple. there's no sign of recognition, though she hopes some of her panicked rambling is making it through the haze. a whimper at her side draws Vivi's attention to mystery, worriedly sniffing the abused and battered locket, which looks like it's one small breath away from crumbling completely. we need to get him inside and home, now. she doesn't have to look to see mystery shifting, the gasp behind them is enough. the kitsune can take care of Lewis, she needs to focus on his anchor. unwinding her scarf, she makes use of the wonky gravity to wrap it around the locket, both preserving its shape and making sure pieces can't fall out when she moves it. with her part done and mystery gathering Lewis in his tails, vivi grabs the delicate package and hurries back to the waiting craft. she shivers as the static feeling of the speeder's shield passes over her, but it's a small price to pay to keep everyone safe. not from the ghosts, who she really needs to thank now she thinks about it, but the reality itself.

the shield, built on the presumption all ghosts held this strange ecto energy, blocked based on the presence of it. thus, the human Danny, locket, and eventually Lewis, all pass through it no problem.

Sam and tucker had stayed in the speeder as the trio ran out, ready to make a quick getaway if this all turned sour. they couldn't really see what was happening outside, but Danny could handle it (probably). he'd call if he needed them. (maybe.)

they kept to watching the last stranger still in the back of the vehicle. well, stranger plus the weird… pink... thing.

“zone new rewrite - Created Nov 15, 2015″

stern fatherly disapproval

I've been going back through the old dp/msa posts and I have to say, I am very disappointed in all of you. honestly, with such pride we take in over-angsting for BOTH fandoms, that there wasn’t much if any discussion to be seen on this is shocking. (Though, to be fair, I just now remembered I wrote this all the way back then and never published it, buT THE POINT STANDS. My inability to write more than ¾ of a fic before getting distracted and forgetting to finish it is only moderately related to this discussion.)

At least it’s edited now, I guess? By which I mean completely rewritten. (you can still tell the parts connecting the main sections are a bit ‘eh’ but, well, ‘eh’.)

Summary: Danny captures Lewis in the thermos (as he does) and tosses him in the Ghost Zone like the rest of the town’s ghostly visitors. This is a bad thing.

The Skulls were finally arriving in the famed Amity Park, having driven for hours now to reach the paranormal hotspot. This rotation found Arthur at the wheel, Vivi riding shotgun with the current travelling deadbeat curled at her feet, and Mystery and Lewis lounging in the back. Perhaps the hours watching mile after mile of fields and trees fly past had dulled their reflexes, allowed what happened next to be, none reacting fast enough to stop it.

Danny had watched the orange vehicle with a vague passing interest as it turned down the street, the van’s appearance almost as gaudy as his own parents’. Probably another group of "ghost hunting" tourists, here to putter around a few days buying overpriced souvenirs before running back home at the first sight of the Box Ghost. Nothing he needed to bother dealing with.

But as it passes by, a cloudy wisp escapes his throat, and suddenly it does become his business. Shooting from his post he flies through the van's wall, barely taking in the sight of the big hulking skeleton hiding behind the two oblivious tourists before sucking it up in the thermos. He only pauses to shoot the passengers a quick smile as a “you’re welcome” for his job well done before barreling straight back out, ignoring the alarmed shouts that follow.

Startled at the sudden apparition, it takes the living members of the team a few seconds to react, but by then it’s far too late. Phantom’s already abducted their Lewis, their friend, trapped him and flown off to who knows where, grinning all the while. Arthur slams on the brakes, whipping the van around (sorry girl, he’ll apologize for the rough treatment later, but Lew’s far more important right now) to tear after the fleeing ghost, but he’s already disappeared.

The poor deadbeat is terrified, Boss has just been taken, and their connection to Him feels cut off, blocked somehow. All they can do now is cling to Miss Vivi, hope she and Mister Arthur will fix this.

After nearly an hour barreling down the streets seeking the white-haired spectre, the four are forced to give up the frantic searching, turning back to the hotel. Vivi clutches the shaking pink spirit like a lifeline, this is the second time Lewis has been taken right in front of her and she could do nothing to stop it. Immediately upon entering the room they set to researching Phantom, praying for any clue on how to find him and their stolen spirit.

The next morning, Danny comes down the stairs to find his parents talking to… visitors? clients, maybe? They sound anxious but look kind of familiar, so he listens in from the top of the steps, out of view from the kitchen.

“You don't understand though, Phantom’s taken our friend! Come on, you’re supposed to be the experts in this town, you must have some idea what happens to them-” That must be the girl he saw speaking.

“But honey, what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense.” His mom sounds like she’s trying to calm down a small child, “We may think that Phantom is malicious, but he’s never directly hurt a human, as far as we know.”

“Has the Ghost Boy finally started attacking humans? Yes!” His dad’s outburst is cut off by what must be three very angry glares, before he sheepishly clarifies, “Er, wait, no, not like that, it's horrible. But I mean, this will finally prove to everyone he’s dangerous! So they’ll stop thinking they don’t need protection from him!”

His mom takes the conversation back over before Jack can drive it even further (if unintentionally) into the ground.

“Okay honey, can you tell me what happened again? When the ghost boy took... Lewis, was it?”

“We were just driving around and Lew was in the back just sitting there not even doing anything and then there was this big flash and he was gone and then he was holding this metal thing and then he was gone too and we can’t lose him again, not so soon after we finally found him again, please-”

There’s a small silence, the woman stopping to regain her composure, the two hunters taking in the information. And then,

“Oh! Oh then it’s okay, sweetie, (well I mean no it’s not because your friend is still missing but), you don’t have to worry about Phantom having taking him! See, the ghost boy uses a Fenton Thermos he stole from us, but it only works on ghosts, not humans. So whatever he captured couldn’t have been your friend, don’t worry. He's probably still out somewhere you visited before and whatever it was was just impersonating him to follow you.”

“But Lewis IS a spirit!”

There's a pause.

“Er, what? No, that can’t be right…”

“And why not?” There’s a fourth voice, quieter but hard, with the same undercurrent of exasperation Danny himself has when discussing ghosts with his parents. “Don’t you think we’d know if our bo-best friend was a spirit? I mean, if the floating and the skull wasn’t obvious enough there’s always the fact that we had to- had to... to...” He trails off, but it’s easy enough to piece together the unsaid words.

Still, that doesn’t stop his dad from speaking, the large man prone to rambling in tense moments.

“No, we mean… How do I say this, it just, it isn’t possible! Ghosts are just too emotionally unstable to have consistent rational thought, let alone form attachments… regardless of whoever they might’ve been based off of in life. That’s what makes them so dangerous to be around, even for us. I know it may be hard to hear, but-”

The halfa jumps as something very heavy slams down on the table. It sounds almost like metal, but what-?

Then it’s the man's voice again, dangerously calm and dripping with venom that makes even Danny go still.

“You call yourselves scientists, but you’re not, are you? You’re too blinded by your own prejudices to be anything more than the next hotshot group we come across, shooting anything just for not being human. Never matters they were perfectly normal before, now they're just monsters to be shot at! Because anything that isn’t 100% human can’t really think, really feel, they’re all just mindless things to you. Hell, I don’t have a human arm, does that mean I’m not sentient? Do you-”

“Arthur that’s enough.”

If his voice is a rock hers is cold hard steel.

“But-”

“Taking our frustrations out on them does nothing but waste time and energy we could be using to find Lewis. And don’t you dare give me that look, I don’t like them talking about him like that any more than you do, but now is not the time.”

There’s the sound of a chair being pushed out from the table, and the woman takes a deep, steadying breath.

“We’ve been paranormal investigators for years, we know when a lead is bust. We came here in hopes you’d have some information to help us, but I can see now it was a lost cause. With that mindset, there’s no way you’d be able to follow the dead’s thought process, let alone accurately anticipate their next move. Ghosts work in patterns just like humans do, we have enough experience that we can get Lewis back without your help.”

There's a deep, resigned sigh.

“Look, I know we aren’t going to change your view of the dead from this, but I hope one day you reexamine what exactly makes you think about them the way you do.”

“Now come on, Arthur, let’s check in with Mystery at the hotel and see if he’s managed to dig up anything actually useful for us.”

Danny stays frozen on the steps as the door slams shut, guilt slowly creeping in as the situation unravels. It had just been a normal patrol yesterday, how had it managed to go this fantastically wrong? Just fly around, suck up some ghosts, and toss them back through the portal. How the hell was he supposed to know this one was any different? All he’d done was take out the guy before he could do anything funny, stop the problem before it even started, but now he was the one in the wrong? (He won’t admit he’s much like his parents when it comes to judging ghosts, even when he knows plenty of them aren’t malicious. Guilty until proven innocent, but with his track record meeting ghosts he couldn’t be to blame. Shoot first, ask questions never, but wasn’t that the same thing he chastised his parents for? …No, best to cut that train of thought off right now-)

Not liking these feelings of guilt, he slips out and trots after the two, following them down the street until he judges it to be a safe enough distance from the house his parents won’t see them if they look out the front door.

“Hey, uh, you’re the guys looking for your... friend, right?” He shuffles his feet awkwardly as they stare at him, unsure how to actually go about doing this. Damn him and his lack of planning.

“So, I overheard what happened and er, I... think I could help? Like my friends and I know lots about Phantom… My parents don’t know about it but I can show you where I, uh, where the ghosts go. When he catches them I mean. Except they’re also there whenever they aren’t in Amity so I guess then too, which would be most of the time then? but, uh.” Jack isn’t the only one in the family to ramble, but the blond man (Arthur?) is tapping his foot impatiently and giving him a look that reads ‘just get on with it’.

The blue haired girl, who he still doesn’t know the name of, looks suspicious, but they’ve followed worse leads before, and if this kid knew what he was talking about, well, it would certainly help…

Of their group Vivi is generally the one known to be impatient, not one for idling, nor interested in “just going over the transmission again, Vi, I swear it’ll only be like ten minutes, honest.” But right now Arthur is upset, and angry, and an upset, angry Arthur is a snappy Arthur, and also an Arthur that just wants this kid to get to the god damned point already so they can leave and keep looking for their missing teammate.

“Right, sorry. So, uh, come back to Fentonworks tonight at, like... eleven thirty maybe? Mom and Dad should be asleep by then so don’t ring the doorbell or anything, it would probably end up being the only time ever that they didn’t sleep like rocks, with how my luck tends to be…”

Before they can press for more information, he’s off like a shot, throwing a “sorryseeyagottagobye!” over his shoulder at the two. They may give chase, they may not, but he isn’t looking back to check. He’s never been great at lying, and if these guys are as actually experienced with ghosts as they say, their questions will likely be a lot harder to weasel his way out of. He’s not gonna chance being found out any sooner than he has to. So as he rounds a corner he flickers invisible, and sure enough the woman rounds the bend mere seconds later, pausing to catch her breath and swear (quite creatively, he must say) as she sees he’s disappeared.

Okay, he’s bought himself some time to fix this, he just has to make a few calls…

Luckily, he’d only tossed the disoriented skeleton through the portal, not dumped him further in like he’d started doing with some of his more... annoying enemies. He shouldn’t be that hard to find.

(famous last words.)

Eleven on the dot finds the remaining Mystery Skulls standing beneath the gaudy neon lights of the Fenton household. At her side, Vivi clutches a bag housing their remaining spirit, heavily warded with every spell in the book (and some others besides). If Phantom tried to take their deadbeat too, he would have to fight them for it, and they were taking absolutely no chances.

The research they’d done in the meantime hadn’t make their moods any lighter. Video after video of Phantom showcased his fighting abilities and power, spectacular battles around the city that left buildings in shambles and craters in their wake. But from a myriad of soundbites they managed to salvage, they’d pieced together that after the fights Phantom took his captured opponents to a place known as the “Ghost Zone”. Further searching pulled up dozens of local reports on the place, from an incident apparently stranding part of the town there a few years prior. While witness accounts ranged wildly, the common threads marked it as huge, green, and swarming with aggressive ghosts. And looking back at some of the opponents in those fights, however strong Lewis might be his chances weren’t looking good. At all.

Sam and Tucker round the corner to see two strange figures clustered on the sidewalk ahead. Their hands reflexively dart to their weapons, before connecting Danny’s descriptions to the group ahead, along with what was probably their dog. Damn, they were early then. Hopefully Danny was actually ready and not just doing something stupi-oh who were they kidding he was always doing something stupid.

They haven’t moved twenty feet before the dog growls, and the two humans whip around to stare at them. (So much for sneaking past and kicking Danny’s butt into gear, then.) Seeing as they’ve been spotted already, the teens close the remaining distance with quick strides.

The blue haired woman is the first to speak when they reach the house, suspicion not quite covering up the worry in her voice.

“And who might you two be, then?”

Sam thinks for a moment, then decides, fuck it, they’re going to learn soon anyway, might as well go with the (partial, at least) truth.

“I’m Sam, this is Tucker. We’re here to help Danny find your ghost since he’s a horrible driver who couldn't move straight to save his life. And for backup since, well, he can hardly go five minutes without getting into some kind of trouble.”

they get a grunt in acknowledgement from the blond, but it's otherwise silent for the few minutes they spend waiting for the door to open.

------!!!!-------

greengreengreen EVERYWHERE, no ground beneath your feet to stop you falling, falling... the space scattered with thousands of pointed rocks and green fog twisting through them... and if this is Arthur's reaction, Lewis is even worse off. and he's been stuck here not for minutes, but hours, days. reliving his death over and over, no reprieve from the constant memories. the team is so focused on Arthur's reaction it's not until mystery renders him unconscious they turn to vivi. standing stock still, unfocused eyes staring unblinking out the window, trembling with near invisible tears trailing down her face. because her boys aren't the only ones with memories of the cave, and while she may be the "strong" one of the group, when it comes to reminders of that night her ptsd is no less real. there you are dipstick! I've been looking all over for you! not now, ember, get out of the way. can't you see I'm busy? not until you tell me why you thought it was a good idea to toss a spirit into the ghost zone. are you completely mental? huh? don't play dumb with me, not even you wouldn't be able to tell. he looks nothing like a ghost! it's all we've been able to do by keeping guard, none of us can even get close to the guy with the state he's in! what are you even talking about-! vivi shoves his head away from the glass, calling out to the flaming musician. yell at him later, tell us where Lewis is now! ember looks down at the new human, sizing her up before nodding, gliding away. I still don't get it, what was she even going on about? I mean yeah, I shouldn't have tossed the guy in here, but the rest of that? what did that even mean? I believe I may be able to explain, a voice calls from the back, and all three kids jerks their heads around to stare at the (talking!) dog. (what the hell?) sam nearly crashes the speeder into an island before she collects herself enough to glance back at the window. ignoring their reactions, mystery continues to speak from his place in Arthur's lap, the mechanic petting him robotically (heh.). I didn't recognize it at first from the descriptions, but now I'm here I can tell this ghost zone, as you put it, is one part of the realm of the dead. the place we just left, your real world, is the realm of the living. ghosts, at least the ones that you know, are formed and exist in this dead realm. it's where they draw their energy from, regardless of whatever focus or reason they have for their being. a ghost that spends too long in the human world would begin to break down, the very reality chipping away at them piece by piece. similarly, a human spending too long unprotected in the ghosts world would suffer similar effects, their body fighting against what knows they should not be there. that's why, for instance, demons must be summoned from their own realm and strike deals with humans to stay on that plain. he looks straight at Danny beings that have rights, as it were, to both places may come and go as they please with no ill effects. i, for instance, may pass through both living and yokai realms if I were to so choose.

[anchor is physical, ties to world]

as for how this relates back to the idea of realms, well, the lower the power of an entity the easier it is to be torn apart... he pauses at Vivi's sudden realization, dashing to the forgotten bag on the seat. tearing open the pouch, she lets out a quiet 'oh thank the gods' as a tiny pink head pops out, chirping in concern. it winds its way into Vivi's arms, nuzzling her cheek. the woman looks at mystery, hoping that protection he had talked about was working on the deadbeat too. he nodded, as long as they were to stay in this vehicle, they'd probably be safe from harm. probably. I'd also suggest arthur stay too, even if he wasn't already... compromised, he looked over to the teens, still listening closely. suffice to say the scenery would certainly not be good for him. and for him to be the first thing Lewis sees after such an episode, arthur stiffens and the dog looks up at him sadly, even if he knows rationally it's not the you he thinks it is, he won't be in his right mind... it's gonna be okay, arthur. vivi settles beside the blond and leans against him, careful not to squish the spirit nestled in her arms. it'll just be like those first few weeks with the dreams. which i mean isn't ideal, obviously, but we've survived it once already, we can do it again if we have to. and it's not like before where he'd been alone for a year, it's really only been, what, a few hours, a day? um, actually... the trio (plus one) looks up, having already forgotten they weren't alone in the vehicle. i, uh, so that whole thing with different realities your, uh, dog? was talking about? heh, yeah, so... funny thing about the zone is, um. time goes differently in here. so like, an hour here is only a few minutes in the real, or, erm, living world... vivi completed the kids thought ...and a few hours on our side would be... days... oh gods no, Lewis. Danny flinches, another shot of guilt stabbing his conscience. ugh, of all the ghosts (or, er, spirits?) he could have snagged yesterday it had to have been this one. the only ghost in the whole town that couldn't live (unlive?) in the zone and was apparently afraid of the color green. just perfect. good Phantom, best hero. the speeder slows as ember approaches a group of ghosts, floating in a protective circle around an island about the size of a small house. they turn to glare at the vehicle, but at ember’s dismissive wave, part to let the craft land. as soon as the door opens a blue blur shoots out, followed closely by a smaller white figure and finally the ghost child. the sight of Lewis when they finally reach him is horrible. he'd flown blindly until he found a larger rock to land on, one with a sort of raised wall on one side to keep his back to. images from the cave played out in a high definition loop before him, even curled on the ground he could still feel himself falling, falling...

now his hands are digging into the flesh around his eyes, still desperately begging the images away. even scrunched into a ball the gaping hole that is his chest is obvious, the constant trembling and whimpers only adding to the gory display. his heart, golden and whole before, has gone pitch black, more cracks than actual pieces at this point and only held together by the strange atmosphere of the zone. the same atmosphere doing a number on the rest of him, draining his power to dangerous lows. they can see the rock behind him, and not just through the bloody window in his chest. it's been so much longer for him, even without the flashbacks draining him at this point he'd still be pretty bad off. he feels like he's been left to rot, abandoned for days, months, years, only his mind for company. maybe karma has finally caught him up and dragged him to hell, just like he must deserve for what he's done. what else would this place be for, catered so perfectly to his failures? he doesn't know how long it's been, only that he's so, so tired. even the agonizing pain in his chest has faded, his whole body numb. cold. who is he? he can't remember, his mind is too foggy. where is he? he shouldn't be here. why? this place is... bad. green. green makes bad things happen. the green had laughed. not-green had been hurt. when? who was green? why? (Lewis!) L..ew...is? something about it sounds familiar. like purple and pink and warm and happy. but… no. Lewis is black and white and cold cold cold. like him. is he him? he can't tell what his color is. was. are? something is touching him. it moves the dark away and he sees blue. blue... what is blue's name again? it says something, but all he hears is static. he can't move and blue is raining. no, that's not right. blue is happy and smiles and love, not sad, never sad, why is blue sad?

his last coherent thought, before finally fading out, is please don't be sad, blue. as vivi reaches the collapsed spirit, her fear of losing Lewis again somehow worsens. she knows what lengths Lewis would go to before using this form, and that she can see straight through him means his energy is even lower than she'd feared. grabbing a wrist she pries a hand from his eyes, only for the revealed pupil to be a dull and cloudy purple. there's no sign of recognition, though she hopes some of her panicked rambling is making it through the haze. a whimper at her side draws Vivi's attention to mystery, worriedly sniffing the abused and battered locket, which looks like it's one small breath away from crumbling completely. "we need to get him inside and home, now." she doesn't have to look to see mystery shifting, the gasp behind them is enough. the kitsune can take care of Lewis, she needs to focus on his anchor. unwinding her scarf, she makes use of the wonky gravity to wrap it around the locket, both preserving its shape and making sure pieces can't fall out when she moves it. with her part done and mystery gathering Lewis in his tails, vivi grabs the delicate package and hurries back to the waiting craft. she shivers as the static feeling of the speeder's shield passes over her, but it's a small price to pay to keep everyone safe. not from the ghosts, who she really needs to thank now she thinks about it, but the reality itself.

they kept to watching the last stranger still in the back of the vehicle. well, stranger plus the weird… pink... thing.

#dp/msa #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls #danny phantom #wip #VERY wip :')#so wip it's not even funny please know that going into this #answrs writes #mine

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xxhentaibootytomhardyblowme · 3 months ago

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CW Gravity Falls: Season Three

1. “Into the Bunker”

Three weeks after they return from the past, Dipper is still struggling with the loss of Sue, and tells Mabel he can’t be around Soos anymore because he reminds Dipper of her. While exploring the woods, Dipper finds an abandoned bunker filled with magical artifacts and drawings, along with photos of a man who looks like Stan and the grey-haired woman. A shapeshifter pretends to be Sue, and Dipper apologizes for breaking up with her, telling her it was “the only way to escape the nightmare.” The creature then tries to eat Dipper, but he kills it and cries over its dead body. Later, he asks Stan about his twin and the woman, but Stan storms off. Later, we see him in the basement rebuilding the portal.

2. “The Walking Dead”

Using a magic spell he finds in his spellbook, Dipper attempts to resurrect Sue. However, since she is not dead but erased from time, the spell brings the town’s dead to life instead. Dipper, Mabel, and Soos hide on the roof of the Mystery House, and Dipper realizes he has feelings for Soos.

3. “Golf or Death”

Gideon’s sister Candy and Mabel have a golf-off, but Candy cheats by using her telekinesis. To get her back, Mabel enlists Dipper’s help, but his spell goes wrong and all three of them are turned into anthropomorphic golf balls. Meanwhile, two government agents arrive in Gravity Falls to investigate Stan.

4. “Soos and the Real Girl”

Soos attempts to use Dipper’s spellbook, but it goes wrong and creates a ghostly version of Sue. However, Dipper is frozen in time and cannot move. Soos and Sue bond while attempting to free him. Eventually, they realize that they both care deeply for Dipper, and that Sue’s ghost must be banished in order to return Dipper to normal. After the spell is complete, Soos comforts a heartbroken Dipper, and they kiss. In a post credits scene, Bill is seen alive in another dimension holding Ford and the grey-haired woman hostage.

5. “The Blind Eye”

Mabel, Soos, and Dipper discover a mind-erasing gun in Stan’s possession, and attempt to find out where it came from. They eventually learn it was made by Old Man McGucket, who has been mind-wiping people for Stan so they don’t remember Ford or the mysterious woman. Dipper finds a way to reverse the memory loss McGucket suffered, and he recognizes Soos as his son. However, he still does not remember who Ford or the woman are, or why Stan wanted them erased from the town’s memories.

6. “Time Bandits”

Dipper decides to try to change the past, feeling guilty about all the damage his magic has done. He travels back to Season 1 to warn that Dipper about Wendy, but is unsuccessful. When he returns, he is confronted by the Time Baby, who throws him into the Time Arena. Hundreds of alternate-universe Dippers fight to the death, and the one survivor, covered in blood, returns home. However, it is revealed that this is not our Dipper but one from a different universe.

7. “Cupid’s Arrow”

The new Dipper uses his powers to create a love potion, which he uses on Soos. However, some of it spills into Mabel’s coffee, and she falls in love with Soos. Meanwhile, Stan’s gig as a hot air balloon pilot goes horribly wrong, and he crashes into a local music festival. Mabel and Alt!Dipper fight over Soos, and Alt!Dipper is about to cast a spell on her when Prime!Dipper appears and shoots Alt!Dipper with Stan’s shotgun. Outside, we see the government agents hear the shotgun blast.

8. “Not What He Seems”

The government agents arrest Dipper for murder, and he is thrown in jail. Meanwhile, Stan is almost done with the portal. He enlists the help of Mabel and Soos, and they manage to activate it as more agents storm the Mystery House. However, it quickly stops working. The agents shoot Stan in the leg, and Mabel protects him with her body as more shots are fired. Meanwhile, in jail, Dipper’s eyes begin to glow. He manages to use his magic without the aid of a spellbook, and explodes the jailhouse wall with his mind. He arrives on the scene at the Mystery House to find a dead Stan, Mabel, and Soos. Furious and filled with grief, he uses his powers to rip the government agents apart and resurrect the three dead. After being revived, Stan asks Dipper if he can open the portal with his mind. Dipper says he can, and it activates once more. Ford steps out, carrying the dead body of the grey-haired woman. Stan points his shotgun at his brother and pulls the trigger with rage in his eyes.

episode summaries for the first season of the CW live-action gravity falls reboot dropped!

1. “Tourist Trapped”

Mabel and Dipper, aged 17, arrive in Gravity Falls, Oregon, for the summer. Upon arrival, they witness their grandfather Stan burying a body behind his Mystery House. The body later returns as a zombie, revealed to be local teen Robbie, and attempts to seduce Mabel.

2. “Murder at the Lake”

Mabel questions Stan about why Robbie was killed, as he has lost his memories. Later, another body washes up at a nearby lake, revealed to be local prom queen Pacifica Northwest. The prime suspect is eccentric inventor Fiddleford McGucket, but Dipper suspects Stan’s involvement.

3. “Gleeful Greetings”

Mabel and Dipper encounter high school football star Gideon Gleeful, who is 6’4” with a full beard. His sister, Candy, has been manipulating his football games with telekinesis, and Dipper sets out to expose them both.

4. “Adventures in Babysitting”

Dipper is hired to babysit two bratty local kids who seem like uncanny younger versions of him and Mabel. While they get high on sugary snacks and go on a rampage, Dipper attempts to impress local girl Wendy by lying about his family, claiming not to be related to Stan. In a post credits scene, Stan buries another body.

5. “The Man-Bear”

A horrifying monster stalks the streets of Gravity Falls, kidnapping Dipper and Wendy and striking fear into the hearts of the townsfolk. After Mabel stumbles onto a mysterious crystal, she becomes a muscleman known as He-Mabel and defeats the Man-Bear with an axe. After being rescued, Dipper finds a mysterious journal in the bear’s cave and shares a kiss with Wendy.

6. “The Hunt for McGucket’s Gold”

Old Man McGucket has gone missing. After his disappearance, rumours spread that he left behind a massive pile of gold bars somewhere in the town. Dipper, Wendy, and Robbie break into the town museum to find it, while Mabel flirts with Gideon.

7. “Time After Time”

Dipper encounters an older version of himself from the future, who warns him not to get involved with Wendy. At a local fair, Mabel and Gideon grow closer, and he wins her a pet pig named Waddles at a carnival game. At the end of the episode, we see Dipper alone in the darkened Mystery House being chased by a shadowy figure.

8. “Headhunters”

The mysterious figure is revealed to be Wendy, wielding an axe. She kills Stan by decapitating him, and Dipper narrowly escapes. He attempts to tell people about what happened but no one believes him. At Stan’s funeral, Mabel gives a moving eulogy. After the service, Wendy chases Dipper and Mabel into the basement of the Mystery House, where they accidentally activate a mysterious portal. Stan appears, and kills Wendy with a sawed-off shotgun. He explains that Wendy is his daughter, and that he was covering up her crimes to protect himself. He faked his death so he could finally kill her. After the credits, the portal activates again, and a strange man in a yellow suit and top hat appears.

#NOT REAL #gravity falls #unreality #SATIRE

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tf2-headcanons-and-scenarios · 4 years ago

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Hewwo! Can I request some headcanons on how each mercenary would raise their daughter from childhood to adulthood? Thanksies!! Also, I adore your writing 😘💞

A/N: A nice short and sweet thing I hope you lot enjoy! My desire to have children when I’m older and married is strong so it fueled this for me :)

Scout:

- Honestly this man has no clue how to raise a daughter

- He knows how to raise boys, but knows nothing about raising girls, so you help him out more times than he wants to admit

- He definitely wants to make sure his daughter stays healthy and active, so growing up he introduces her to various sports

- Baseball, Softball and American Football are among the 3 most played sports between Scout and his daughter

- Early morning runs became a tradition between Scout and his girl growing up. Unless one was injured or sick, they would ALWAYS run in the morning

- Scout looks to you for giving your daughter life advice because try as he might he just can’t seem to give the right advice to her

- Overprotective? Nah, so long as his daughter doesn’t do something incredibly stupid or brings home a very dangerous partner

- When Scout’s daughter reaches adulthood, they continue with their morning jogs and start to play aggressively against each other in sport

Soldier:

- This man goes from hardcore drill seargent to hardcore softie in a matter of SECONDS after meeting his daughter for the first time

- This man is about discipline and self-routine. He’d try to make sure his daughter can look after herself properly in case anything was to happen

- He would definitely give in to the tea parties, he so would

- When she’s old enough, he’d teach her how to shoot a gun for self defence

- He leaves the stuff about school and girl-based advice to you

- He is literally the dad holding a shotgun when his daughter brings home a romantic partner, and he will intimidate them and their loyalty to his daughter

- Soldier will reward good behaviour and actions, often taking his daughter out to see a movie or get some ice cream

- When Soldier’s little girl becomes a woman, he’ll teach her how to use explosives and basically drop in with a packet of bread and stories to tell

Pyro:

- Pyro is just excited about having a daughter, that’s another person to host tea parties with!

- Dear god where they afraid of hurting her, especially since they worked with dangerous amounts of fire 24/7

- Cute clothes for the baby girl? FUCK YES!!!

- Stuffed toys? YOU BET!!!

- You enjoy watching Pyro play with your little girl, and you loved to join in

- All three of you celebrate the holidays like there is no tomorrow, and you absolutely love it

- Pyro surprisingly teaches your daughter how to be safe around fire. The last they want is to see their little girl covered in burn marks

- They are generally good with giving advice, but stuff like puberty is a zone Pyro does not go to, often leaving those questions with you

- When your daughter grows up, Pyro loves dropping in for tea, and definitely loves bringing up baby photos of your little girl

Demoman:

- Demoman is over the moon when he first met his daughter. He forever counts himself lucky he had the eyesight to see her

- Babyproofed the house and never laid a finger on explosives when she was around

- You never thought you’d see the day Demo would stop drinking, but ever since your daughter was born he didn’t touch a single drop

- He never consistently bagged your child about becoming a demolitions expert, but he always had fun making small and safe explosions in the yard every now and then

- He is the parent who sneaks their child a sip of Whiskey on the rocks. You were certainly not impressed when you caught him

- He did return to drinking as his daughter grew older, but he never drinks to the amounts he drank before she was born

- He is really good with life advice (thanks to his own mother), and is the dad that tries to guide his child along the straight and narrow path

- When she grows up he takes her down to the bar to drink responsibly, and he loves telling her stories of his days working as a mercenary

- You bet he tests the romantic partner with hardcore shots of Rum containing 90% Alcohol

- FYI such alcohol exists

Heavy:

- Heavy helped his mother raise his sisters for years, so having to look after a baby girl was easy for him

- Soft lullabies and fairytale stories at night were Heavy’s favourite moments of the day when your daughter was young

- Great with advice and puberty questions, though he sometimes turned to you to ask if he was answering them properly or not

- Definitely teaches his daughter fluent Russian and boxing

- As she gets older he starts talking more about his past as a mercenary and former life in a Russian gulag

- He definitely teaches his daughter the history of Russia and how bad things can be if a bad person was left in power

- When she grows up he is the loving father who loves talking as often as he can with his daughter. No matter how old she is, he would always call her by her childhood nicknames

Engineer:

- Engi wrote down lullabies on his guitar for her even before she was born

- Baby furniture was all assembled by hand by this Texan man

- He loves giving the infant girl cuddles and tries to get her to speak as early as humanly possible

- As she gets older he allows her into the workshop so long as she promises not to touch or break anything important or dangerous

- The amount of times this daughter of his has broken that rule is enough times to give him chronic back pains at the ripe old age of not-even-50-yet and you so very close to banning her from entering his workshop

- He is great with advice and even greater with schoolwork. He loves having discussions with her about subjects she doesn’t know too well. He will leave you with some personal questions if he can’t find the words for it

- He will encourage her to pursue her passions no matter what they were, even if society deemed it inappropriate. If she wanted to be a nurse or a lawyer or even the fucking Queen of England she can damn well strive to be just that!

- He invents various toys and items for her whenever an idea strikes him fancy, and he will teach her how to handle a wrench and a sink at least

- When she grows up he will continue making things for her and send them her way at random times. He will also be the aged father who loves playing the guitar for her

Medic:

- Local medical man knows you were pregnant with a girl before you were 3 months pregnant

- Said medical man was over the moon he had a daughter to look forward to (you found it surprising that he wanted to dress her up in a lot of cute outfits)

- Medic would always take charge with making sure you and your unborn daughter were healthy and happy throughout the pregnancy

- He would also be the one to deliver the baby! The amount of happy tears he shed holding her for the first time was the most happy you had seen him in a long time

- Having a baby kept Medic in his toes. No child of his, daughter or son, was going to go through the night with a cold!

- He is the one who always patches up his daughter’s scratches with bandaids and song-like words that cheer her up

- God forbid him even let her into the Medbay in the middle of an experiment

- Medic would let his child feed the birds, and Archimedes loves hanging around your daughter

- Medic would go to you for help when he needed advice on how to take care of his little girl properly, but otherwise the both of you were just fine

- When your daughter grew up the first thing she did was go to Medical school inspired by her father’s career, and he would help support her as much as he could

- She would also take care of her own brood of doves

- She promised to keep away from experimenting for your sake

Spy:

- THIS MAN WAS A NERVOUS WRECK WHEN HE FOUND OUT YOU WERE PREGNANT

- He already failed to raise one child, so why did fate give him another?!

- He promised himself he wouldn’t run like he did with his first child, and stuck with you throughout the pregnancy

- He would not let you mention how much he cried holding your daughter for the first time to anyone else

- He was a very cautious man once your daughter arrived. He even stopped smoking inside buildings to avoid ruining her lungs

- Taught her how to speak French as early as she could understand it. This may have lead her to develop his accent over time but you love it

- Advice was something Spy trusted you to do more than himself. He would never shake the fear he was going to fail at his second attempt at being a father

- You always found your heart melting whenever you caught your daughter and Spy resting with one another after reading a bedtime story

- Even after growing up, Spy always looked out for his daughter, and wouldn’t hesitate to protect her from any of his enemies that try to harm her or you

- He is forever grateful he was given a second chance at fatherhood, and did his best to not let it go to waste

A/N: So I’m back! Hope ya didn’t miss me too much. Thanks for being patient with me!! 💕💕

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moonshade7 · 4 years ago

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Little Nightmare HCs Go Brrrrrrrrrrrr

Spoilers? Yep.

VLN:

-Kids are kidnapped and taken to the Nest by an unknown monster.

-Six got kidnapped while in the forest

- The Pretender's dolls have tape on their neck with the name of the kid they represent.

-RCG loves makeup *hint hint*

-RCG ends up becoming the Pretender in order to save her skin. That's her place in the loop.

-The Butler is paralyzed like the Craftsman, explaining why he doesn't walk anywhere and floats instead.

-The Craftsman likes sculpting but clay is too fragile for dolls so he works with wood instead.

-The Craftsman makes Porcelain dolls for the Teacher

-Six looks up to RCG and sees her as a Sister.

-Up until RCG locks her out of the barn

-Then Six loses trust in her until RCG saves her from falling off a cliff

-RCG's "death" hurt Six so much that she vowed never to trust anyone else again

Fair warning this get's REALLY long

LN2:

-Six comes back from the Nest but gets trapped in the school for a few weeks. She resolves to violence to survive there. There Six learns to get her stomach of steel.

-When Six escapes and goes back to the Hunter's shack she sees that the Hunter (Her father most likely) is not the same.

-The Hunter chases after Six thinking she's just another kid. (Which is why he shoots her when she's running away in the comics)

-When Six sees Mono he just escaped from that place (orphanage? Different school)

-They feel a connection but aren't sure why.

-When the Hunter sees Six he realizes who she is and takes her back to the shack, giving Six her old music box.

-The Hunter takes care of her (even if he is corrupted by the signals) and feeds her.

-Six starts feeling safe until Mono breaks in to "save" her.

-Six not wanting to get hurt again tries to run from Mono and then the game continues.

-The Hunter only wants to keep Six safe with him hence why he shoots Mono.

-When they got stuck in the shack six doesn't want to use the shotgun but Mono insists that its the only way (and e's right but still)

-Six leaves the shed quickly trying to run from the sick feeling in her stomach.

-Six introduces herself to Mono for the first time on their way to the school.

-Before they enter the School they play in the playground

-Some of the bullies in the school are actually nice and just want to stay out of trouble but are often peer pressured into bullying their peers.

-While in disguise Mono actually befriends a few of them briefly.

-Mono tries to break up that one fight between the three bullies but nearly gets his "head" knocked off so he just leaves.

-Throughout the entire School level Mono is inwardly panicking and blaming himself for letting Six get caught.

-When Mono saves Six she finally breaks down. Mono hugs her and hums the tune of her music box to make her feel better.

-Six jokingly suggests they chop the Teacher's head off and is surprised when Mono agrees.

-They play in the rain for a while until Six gets too cold and starts getting sick.

-Six puts on the raincoat as a homage to RCG and because it's raining.

-Mono has spare paper bags (and his head is probably cardboard :/)

-In the Hospital Mono and Six play with the X-ray and Stuffed animals for a few hours.

-Mono lets Six keep her duck but Six leaves it behind.

-Mono breaks down after the mannequins and Six (having the social skills of an agoraphobic lobster) repeats what he did for her as best as she can

-After seeing how badly Mono reacted to the Mannequin hands she grabs one and tortures it as revenge.

-Mono: Pogchamp Six. Pogchamp

-Mono burns the doctor alive because in his eyes the Doctor forced these people to be horrific abominations. Also for petty revenge

-Mono and Six warm up by the fire and take a good long nap.

-Six gets scared every time Mono goes into the TV's because she's afraid he'll go in and never come out.

-When Mono released the Thin Man Six tried her best to try and bring her with him but he kept fighting her every time she touched him so she left him in tears.

-When the Thin Man is released, he is "freed" from his form of escapism and tries to kill Mono but takes Six because she looks familiar

-When Six realizes Mono has the better hiding spot she tries to run to him but trips and calls out his name desperately.

-Six has flashbacks of RCG abandoning her like Mono.

-When she screams when she gets caught, she's screaming Mono's name.

-Mono traverse's alone blaming himself and at one point nearly jumps off the roof.

-Mono huts himself repeatedly because of his cowardice. Leaving a bunche of bruises on his face.

-The Thin Man walks toward Mono in an attempt to seem non-threatening because he's gotten over his initial anger and is now trying to save Mono from the world

-When Mono breaks his ribs on the train Shadow Six appears and tries to encourage Mono and make him feel happy again

-In the fight between Mono and the Thin Man, the Thin Man speaks in a different frequency that Mono can't hear.

-Mono literally, twists and bends the Thin Man to death (as in he snaps every bone and breaks every vertebrae).

-Monster Six is blissfully unaware of what she turned into but remembers Mono.

-She acts like a shy puppy around him

-Mono cries and blames himself for what happened to Six.

-They stay there for a while as Mono figures out what to do to get Six out (She doesn't want to leave but he doesn't realize that)

-Mono breaks the Music Box out of desperation

-When they run away Six is processing everything that happened, feeling the same rage the thin Man felt.

-We were safe here. I was safe here and you ruined it. You ruined everything

-Six drops Mono on impulse and immediately regrets it.

-The Eyes act like caretakers for Mono, trying to distract him from remembering Six and raising him to be a gentleman.

-Mono's ideal escapism is one where he can't feel pain.

-But to avoid pain you must also avoid happiness.

-Now Mono doesn't feel anything at all.

-Mono turns into the Thin Man and when Mono releases the Thin Man all those emotions basically sucker punch him in the gut (So he's pissed off and depressed at the same time.)

-Six starts feeling hungry because of all those years stuck in the tower OR because her soul is out of her body

-Shadow Six glares at Six but realizes they both need to survive to come back and save Mono. Shadow Six gestures to the picture of the Maw...

LN:

-Since the Lady has everything she wants the Mirror Monster tortures her by showing her what a monster she is.

-The Lady speaks only Japanese and doesn't like loud noises (which is why she almost never leaves her residence)

-Roger cares for the kids and tries to take care of them the best he can but he's blind is kept in the dark of what happens in the Maw.

-The Twin chefs both have problems. One can't taste and one can't smell.

-If the Twin chefs were humans (or could leave) they would try and start a cooking show.

-The reason the Twin Chefs cook/kill Six is that they think she's a rat. (Can't see very well with those masks)

-The Bellman isn't seen in the game because he's loading the Guest's suitcases into their rooms.

-The Ferryman brings kids to the Maw because he wants to save them from the world outside.

-The Maw only starts using kids when they begin to run low on supplies. The Lady doesn't care though. She used to at one point...

-Six hugs the Nomes because they remind her of when Mono wore the Nome cap.

-Six starts forgetting more and more of her life, only remembering vague things.

-The kids around the fire are all eaten by leeches or caught by the Janitor

-Shadow Six is Six's soul/child spirit. She'll want to play with the Nomes and she resents Six for dropping Mono.

-When Six's hunger gets worse Shadow Six starts dissipating more and more.

-Six never learns that RK becomes a Nome and doesn't know they're human.

-Six stopped and listened to the Lady's humming for a moment because it sounded familiar.

-When Six eats the Lady Shadow Six is at her weakest state.

-Six kills the guests so that she can free the other kids. But realizes the Maw is the safest place for them.

-Six hires a blind Janitor without even looking at how he looks and the Bellman has to clean up the mess she left behind.

-Six starts forgetting more and more of her past. Until she wakes up one day and sees a child. She turns them into a Shadow kid to feed her hunger.

-Shadow Six is nowhere to be seen at this point.

-Six pisses off the Mirror Monster and he starts torturing her.

-Then Six starts putting on a mask that she felt looked...familiar.

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slothspaghettiwrites · 4 years ago

Note

I’m just sitting here contemplating what The Devil All the Time would be like if instead of Arvin Russell, it was a female character. Cause I just really wanna know what Lee would do when he sees the person he’s chasing is actually a stunning young woman—like his perfect girl. Thoughts?

One, Arlene Russell would probably be even more troubled than Arvin. She doesn't get the ending he does.

Real dark contemplations below the cut y'all. Like seriously enter at your own risk.

Arlene almost certainly would have been a victim of Preacher Teagardin. 100% I do believe she would have shot him and ran away outta fear. She would have gotten lucky and been able to get a ride with Carl and Sandy, they'd question what she was doing, why she was skittish and she'd panic. Carl makes a move on her (Why not try something new for once, Sandy? You get all your damn boy toys, I wanna have my own little doll for once.) and she shoots him and Sandy. She makes it back to Meade, alone and scared with splatterings of blood on her dress. She makes it up to the old burned down Russell house. Out of some sick habit or supernatural force, she goes to the prayer log.

That's where Lee finds her. He's ready to shoot whatever fucker killed his sister, shotgun loaded, but then all he hears is the weak little cries of a girl. He can't kill a woman. Arlene turns around and sees him, the gun pointed at her. She welcomes death, it's probably what she deserves after killing three people even if they were bad.

"I know what they were doin'. I saw... Those pictures. I just needed a ride home. I just need-" a choked sob breaking off the end of her sentence.

Lee would lower his gun and just watch the scared little angel in front of him break into a million pieces. He'd decide right there that death would be too easy. If he wanted revenge for his sister, it would come from this girl. She was already living in her own personal hell and he would be her devil, all the time.

#sloth asks #nonnie #the devil all the time #lee bodecker #DARK #DARK THEMES #arvin russell #arlene russell

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katie-writes24 · 4 years ago

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Another Life, Another Adventure

Pairing: Lee Scoresby x reader

Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!!! Language, angst, violence, too many flashbacks, suggestive material, fluff (shockingly) hurt/sad shit, and buckle your seatbelts because this shit is a rollercoaster that just goes DOWN!

Ahaha, we are coping this way, 3.2k words baby. I’ve never written a story so fast! But yeah, lemme know if you want to be tagged! PLEASE give feedback, it’s greatly appreciated and I need assurance that my writing isn’t shit because I’m desperate. So....anyway, good luck? Because yall already know where this is heading, but I’m not going to put it in the warnings because ya know, SPOILERS?

There was no point in arguing, not with the magisterium on their tail, not with Lee’s injured foot, and not with Lyra in need of safety. Jopari even tried countering, insisting that there had to be another way. Y/N couldn’t say that she disagreed. After all the blinding chaos they’ve escaped, there had to be another way around this.

“I’ve made my choice,” Lee huffed, giving a stern look at Jopari. “You’re it. Now find the bearer.”

Y/N and the shaman shared a look. They both knew of the promise he made with Lee, and they both knew how important it was for Lyra to be protected.

“You’re a good man.”

“Just remember your promise. I love that little girl like a daughter.” Lee fumbled with his shotgun, loading the bullets and talking fast.

“I remember. You have my word. I’ll make sure she’s protected by the knife.”

“That’s all I need to know…” He stuck his hand out and firmly shook Jopari’s hand, both nodding, both knowing of the rough journey ahead. As the shaman stood up, he hesitated and it caused Lee to look up at him before looking at her with a raised brow.

Y/N took a deep inhale before nodding for him to go along.

“Y/N-”

“You’re out of your mind if you think-”

“Y/N, go!” He gripped her arm and it only made her push back.

“No, no! You listen to me!” Soft hands held his face in a firm grip. Y/N was close and made sure to hold eye contact. “You forget what I said at the start of this? We’re a package, which means I go where you go. I didn’t leave my home in Texas just to get all the way here and leave you, Lee!”

The day he approached her with the proposition of going back to find Iroek was still fresh in her mind. Y/N had seen the aeronaut be ambitious before, but the determination in his eyes was unstoppable that day. Since then they were up in that balloon for weeks, months with each other.

“You want me to come along?”

“I could use the company.”

“And what will people say when they see you with a leash on a so-called ‘townswhore,’ hmm?”

“Darling, since when have I ever cared what others think? I ain’t a Prince Charming myself.”

Though neither of them could predict that that small journey would lead to something much bigger and more complicated than expected, they still didn’t leave each other’s side. Not when Iroek refused to talk, not when Lord Faa made snarky comments on how helpful someone with Y/N’s type of occupation could actually be, and not when they were separated from Lyra.

Lee squeezed her wrist and bowed his head. Y/N took that as he had given up arguing, and she turned to look at Jopari staring in discomfort. Hester and Owen hunched over each other, having their own way to keep each other safe. They all probably made quite the scene.

“Don’t worry about us. Just...go protect Lyra, please?” Y/N waved him away with a nod, and soon Jopari was out of sight, leaving them with a soft goodbye.

How they caught up so quickly, they’ll never figure out, but bullets kept flying back and forth. Only minutes later Lee turned back to Y/N, holding up his pistol and sighing, “I’m out.”

“Let’s move, then, c’mon.” She held out her hand and pulled him up, watching Lee set down his hat and leave behind yet another meaningful piece to him.

Guards were still yelling, voices getting only closer. They trudged through the forest, Hester and Owen leading the way. However it was only a matter of time before Lee couldn’t bear to walk on his damaged bone any longer. Y/N felt her entire body shaking, loading up her gun with her last round of ammo before listening to what Lee was saying.

“Remember the games we used to play when we were little?” He glanced at Hester as he shifted.

“The Alamo.”

Feeling her stare on him, Lee turned to Y/N, chuckling, “The Alamo. Taking turns being Danes in French.”

“They’re still coming,” Owen stepped down from his perched stance on the rock, burrowing into Y/N’s side.

“How many bullets do we have left?” He was breathing harder, and it did nothing to help Y/N’s nerves. It was like a clock ticking in her head. It was a gut feeling, this was all so much different then when they would get into a natural bar fight, or even when she had to watch Lee get abused from the magisterium and Coulter. When she looked at Owen, she knew he felt it, too.

“About thirty,” Hester drew her ears back in fear, while Lee only nodded determinedly. His eyes met Y/N’s and she cleared her throat.

“I got one round left,” She whispered. Lee reached down and squeezed her hand before sighing.

“Well, let’s make every single last one count then,” With that he cocked his gun and turned to shoot, Y/N doing the same.

On each side of the stump they took their stance, like a routine, both shooting at their respective sides. Hester helped by calling out where to aim, and Owen did his best to do the same.

“I’m running out!” Y/N hated to admit it, but when she ran out that only meant for one shooter, and who knows how good that could go.

“Me too,” Lee kept firing.

“Don’t think about that!” Owen chirped.

“What should we think about?” She almost missed one, her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Think about anything. Think about bacon. Just keep shooting!” Hester spoke before returning to yell where to shoot at next.

“And who are you?”

“Y/N L/N, we’re sort of a package. I go where he goes.”

“And what, exactly, do you bring to the table Miss L/N?”

“I might not be able to fly, but I’m a pretty good shot.”

Y/N was overwhelmed, between the gunfire and the yelling and her heart beating fast and the dangerous thoughts in her head, she wasn’t going fast enough. Even with her limited count, she was going slower than Lee. One guard was on the top, and just as she was about to shoot, he fired to her left.

“Y/N, go high!” Owen called, yet it was a little late.

The sharp clip shot right next to her, and with Lee doubling over only meant one thing.

“Lee!” Y/N yelled all while shooting at the man behind the boulder. She crouched behind the stump and felt her eyes grow.

“It’s nothing big! A bullet clipped your scalp, but no great damage!” Hester urged, voice shaky. He held onto the top of his head as blood ran down the side. There was no sugar coating how bad this was getting. Y/N only had one bullet left, using it to shoot the guy who was only coming closer.

“Did you count how many fell?” He was taking his time, why was he taking his time? Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she listened to shots fire all around her, watching Owen tremble at each round.

“This is my fault isn’t it?” Hester whined.

“How’d ya figure?”

“I’ve always stopped you both before.”

“You always pushed us,” Lee locked the gun and looked at his daemon with concern. It made Owen flap his wings in a protective manner, even though he stopped being able to fly straight a while ago.

“Only when there’s an adventure on the way-”

“Hester,” Lee huffed softly. “There were always adventures.”

Y/N bit down on her lip as she agreed; there always was an adventure.

“You know, if you were going to start trouble, you could’ve at least finished it!”

“Well who said I haven’t yet? You know I love a good chase, doll.”

It was like a film before her eyes; from the moment the two first met there was always a thrill, whether it be them on the run or her own feelings for the aeronaut. Her mother once told her that Y/N would find a good husband in a local bookkeeper, that way she would live a simple life, stay far from any danger. It was almost laughable how much danger she had been put through since meeting Lee.

“I totally understand now,” Y/N shook her head in admiration. “Living this life up in the stars...it’s beautiful.”

“You’d think it would grow old, but it’s a different picture every night.”

She looked back at Lee, smirking. “I’d love to see it.”

“So stay.”

From her first steps into the balloon, Y/N found it comforting. The small home Lee had made for himself up in the sky had quickly grown on her, just like the man himself.

“You’ll find a change of mind sooner or later.”

“What little faith you have of me. And how dare you try to insinuate how I should feel-”

“I’m not insinuating anything, I’m just...I’ve got jobs, I’ve got places to go and I can’t settle just yet.”

“Then I’ll follow you.”

“Now why would you want to do that?”

“If you want me to leave so badly, then say so. But I finally found a life that excites me and I don’t plan on giving that up.”

And even after the years of knowing one another, and the months of traveling together, those feelings were never labeled. Although two beds turned to one, and outsiders' judgment was unique, neither Lee or Y/N dared fixed it. Lyra even asked about the travelers status, and while being one rambunctious and curious girl, she luckily got distracted easily as Y/N pushed the subject away.

The two have been through hell and back, each seeing the other at their weakest while never being one to judge. They both had too many faults, there was no judgement to be made to the other. Maybe that’s what made them so similar. Maybe that’s why they were so drawn to each other.

Her dangerous acts she was thinking of were as equally dangerous as losing focus, as she felt a sudden pain strike her right below her collarbone. Owen cried out and they both fell to the ground. It took her a moment to recover from the shock, but she eventually reached down to feel the damage, a knowing liquid already flooding out slowly.

“Lee…”

The aeronaut swallowed at her broken voice, watching the blood escape from her wound. The distraction only caused him to lose aim, and he lost his balance as a bullet hit his shoulder. He fell onto his back, letting out pants and huffs.

“C’mon, tough guy, too old for a fight?”

“Let me catch my breath, will ya?”

“You can tap out. I won’t hold it against you.”

“Maybe, I was just thinking of other activities,” He towered over her as his eyes grew dark. Y/N swallowed before chuckling.

“Like what?”

Lee pushed a strand of hair behind her ear before leaning down and taking the lobe into his mouth. She rested her hands on his chest as her head fell onto his shoulder. As his lips dragged up the shell of her ear, his hands took her own and slowly brought them down to his belt. Just as Y/N was about to unbuckle the fabric, her arm was twisted behind her. Her chest fell down onto the railing before her and she winced.

“Word of advice: never get distracted when it comes to your life.”

Call it the wrong time and place, but as Y/N stared into his brown eyes, she found herself reminiscing. She was always bad at holding eye contact, it made her feel so small. Yet, every time she looked into these orbs she felt safe, she felt warm. She wished she looked into his eyes more....

But the look he was giving her now...it was endearing.

It was almost like he was doing the same as her, taking it all in one last time.

“Lee,” Hester gasped out. “The clout pine. Maybe you could call her to this world.”

Of course, Serafina said that she would help, that she would be here. As Lee struggled with removing it from his pocket, Y/N let out a whimper as the pain moved to her shoulder. The aeronaut glanced at the noise and frowned.

“Serafina Pekkala, I beg you,” A bullet rang from behind them as Lee raised his hand to the sky. “Come help us.”

Owen moved into her chest and Y/N wrapped him up into her arms as she found his soft feathers comforting.

“Think that’s enough?”

“Let’s hope it is…” Y/N coughed. She tried moving into a seated position, but only managed to scoot up a couple inches. Lee stared at her carefully, wanting to reach out and help her, do anything he could to stop the bleeding, to make her comfortable, make her feel safe. But he wasn’t doing so good himself, having three bullets already break his flesh. He scooted back and took hold of his gun. Just as he was raising it up, another fire went off, Lee falling back again, this time with a bullet into his chest.

Y/N had seen lots of things in her life; she was fortunate enough to travel the world, she’d seen great sights she could’ve never dreamed of seeing before. She watched her mother slowly become sicker and sicker, saw her friends be dragged away from her, watched someone she cared for greatly fall right out of her arms to the ground below.

Despite all the crazy, disastrous things she’d seen before, nothing could compare to this. Nothing could compare to her seeing her lover in agony, so helpless. He lost all the light in his eyes, his brow was furrowed, and for once in his life his guard was down.

“Lee, it’s okay.” But he kept resisting, he kept denying that there was no more fight left in him.

“I have to do it for Lyra-”

“Jopari made his promise, Lee,” Y/N reached out her hand, lowering his gun. “We did what we could.”

He shook his head, releasing a shaky breath and taking her hand in his.

Whether he liked it or not, they reached the point of no return.

“Y’know ever since I met you I’ve lived on the edge?” Y/N let out a wet chuckle.

“Is it really necessary?”

“Can’t run around these parts without learning how to shoot, kid.”

“Well, that could only mean that there’s danger ahead.”

“What? You scared of a little danger? Where’s the fun in that?”

“It’s...it’s not bad, I actually grew to love it. All those times we shared together, all those times I had to save your ass, all the times you saved mine.”

“You’re gonna end up dead one day if you keep runnin’ around so recklessly, dumbass.”

“Ah, that’s why I keep you around, ain’t it?”

“What I said before,” She winced as she leaned closer to him. “About leaving my home in Texas. Turns out i never left my home...I found it.”

“I was worried about you.”

“I was just out for a walk, Lee, nothing to worry about. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.”

“No, Y/N, not around here. Just...if I lose you, I’ll never forgive myself, alright? Like you said, we’re a package now.”

“You changed me for the better...look at all the shit we did, you let me touch the sky, Lee,” A tear ran down her cheek. She could see Hester moving closer to Owen out of the corner of her eye.

“How hard could being an aeronaut be, anyways?”

“Ha, it’s cute that you think it’s an easy job.”

“All I ever see ya do is fiddle with knobs.”

“Those knobs get us safely to land. Would you rather we just keep floating all day and night?”

“I wouldn’t mind it...it’s lovely up here.”

“How far we flew…” Lee cupped her face, his own eyes growing wet. There were so many emotions running through his mind that he couldn’t put into words, and that scared him. He could literally feel his last breaths coming and he wouldn’t be able to tell Y/N how he felt.

“Why don’t you care?”

“Why should I? Does it look like I have such a high reputation? Y/N, I would never leave you. And screw what anyone else thinks.”

“I’ve...never had anyone push it away like it doesn’t matter before?”

“People could think we were swingers for all I care. Not going to change what I think about you, darling.”

“Exactly, look at us,” Her hands stopped shaking, gripping his wrists with one hand. “Lee, I wouldn’t replace this for the world, good and bad.”

“S’not enough though, is it? Love? Doesn’t mean you won’t hurt her? Doesn’t mean she’s safe with you, it doesn’t work that way.”

“What could you possibly know about love, Mr. Scoresby? You don’t have children, no wife, just a narrow-minded whore, yearning for an escape.” Ms. Coulter crept towards him like a predator. All Y/N could do was helplessly watch from the corner of the room.

“You’re wrong...because I love Lyra.”

Lee mustered all the strength he could to move forward to capture her lips.

They both put everything they could into that one kiss, their final kiss.

“I’ve never felt so safe before…”

“Well, I’m glad I make you feel safe, sweetheart.”

“Do you...does this change anything for us? What does this mean, exactly?”

“...It doesn’t have to change anything, really.” Lee wrapped his arms around her naked body and kissed her forehead. Y/N wasn’t ready for things to change then.

Lee pushed and pushed, hoping whatever God was out there that he was able to mold his feelings into Y/N. She deserved to know, she deserved to be loved. She was loved. He felt her pressing her lips harder, and warm air traveled into his mouth, making him pull back gasping.

“Don’t do that, don’t you go before I do!” He sobbed, reaching out for her one last time and instead feeling his demon nuzzle into his free hand.

“I love you…” She whispered, giving him a small smile as she pulled Owen closer to her body.

“We did good,” Owen interrupted before closing his eyes.

“We’re a-helping Lyra…” Hester whimpered, looking at Lee for a response, a confirmation, anything. Instead all she saw were tears coming out of his eyes, blood seeping from his head and taking a deep breath.

His mouth wouldn’t move, it felt like his lungs were shattering. His body was shrinking and everything inside him felt tighter. His final cue was here, yet nothing was escaping. His brain was vibrating, ironically. His entire being was going into panic mode and the last final seconds were starting to count down. His mind was screaming at him to say the words, say something to her, something meaningful. Something that would make her know that she wasn’t just traveling with a known theft, that he wanted her to come along for a reason. That he wanted to build a home with her, build a family with her. Wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her until she knew that everyone who crossed their path was wrong about them. They weren’t just a thieving aeronaut and a townswhore, but two people in love.

His eyes started to droop shut, and when he opened them again, Owen was gone, just flurries of white particles floating before him.

Lee stared into lifeless orbs in front of him, feeling Hester’s cold body drift away from his own.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Lyra?”

“You travel with Mr. Scoresby?”

“I do, yes.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s...typical, really. At least for me. But he knows what he’s doing. He’s full of determination, though he might come off as a self-righteous smartass when you first meet him. But he’s a good man. So devoted, and surprisingly, he’s pretty funny. But don’t tell him I said that! Lee takes risks, and is so....he’s open. He may not let it show often, but he really does care for you. Just like he cares about what happens to these missing children, and what happens after this. In the mornings, he sings these songs, and I know he does it to annoy me. But it’s actually...it’s nice waking up like that. He keeps me on my toes when I’m down, or stressed. He’s strong, and I’ve never met anyone like him before. You know, he actually took me out of my shell? Because he could see right through me, and knew that I had this desire to get out of Texas and have...a story to tell, you know? One worth the time. I’ll never understand it, but Lee can read me better than anyone I know…”

“Do you love Mr.Scoresby?”

“Love..love is a strong word, Lyra.”

“He loves you. I can tell.”

Y/N looked to see the aeronaut talking to Hester, small smile on his face, eyes wide as he spoke. He matched her stare eventually, and waved a hand. She chuckled and waved back.

“No, no it’s not like that, Lyra. He doesn’t love me…”

Let me know if you want to be tagged!! :’)

#lee scoresby x reader #lee scoresby fic #lee scoresby #lee scoresby imagine #his dark materials fic #his dark materials spoilers #my writings #hdm spoilers #lee scoresby fanfic #lee scoresby x oc #bahaha i'm in pain #but you know what #i might write like a prequal maybe?#one that's happier ig?#but anyways #ima grab a tissue

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meyeselph · 3 years ago

Text

Gwenpool: Desperate Misanthrope's Confused Angst

Showtime

Ms. Pool woke up in a familiar room. Not in Krakoa - there are no mutants around. This isn’t a story about that. Look, honestly, without an actual Gwenpool series and the constant breaks in her comics appearance I can’t even begin to give a fuck. I cancelled my marvel universe subbie. I might get back to my stories but single issues are iffy. I read fast and don’t pore over the artwork. So I get 10 minutes of entertainment for….FIVE DOLLARS? When did this happen? Jeezus.

Who even reads comics anymore?

Anyway, long story short, Gwen got out of bed and recognized the room as her old one from the “old times.” The dark times. The ‘not running around in pink and white outfits and shooting people’ times. She panicked (Been there. It is what it is though). The only way out of trauma is through.

She dressed in old clothes, immediately hit by old smells, she couldn’t help but cry. Was it all a dream? Have I gone insane (again)? All the usual self doubts cropped up. I mean, really, if you think this kind of thing didn’t pass through her mind regularly why don’t you transport yourself to a comic book universe?

Oh, you can’t?

Oh. It isn’t actually possible for you and I’m stupid for suggesting it. So, yeah. If it actually happened and you kept that attitude then the logical assumption for a normie is a mental breakdown. Trick for Gwen, though, is it's probably always been both real and her being nuts.

So she goes downstairs to the kitchen to figure out why this is happening and Evil Gwen is having cereal. Let's say cocoa puffs. I’ve been thinking about those recently. You ever remember cereal as something worth cherishing. Not as just bullshit that TV convinced you to want? God damn, now I want Cookie Crisp. Cookie Crisp wasn’t even ever that good. Why do I want Cookie Crisp?

So also sitting around the table were the faceless versions of her father, mother, and her brother. Just chilling. No BD. Seen Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind?

Yes, I know that references aren’t jokes - fuck you, I’m painting a picture and I CAN’T PAINT, THAT’S WHY THIS ISN’T A COMIC. Fucks sake. Anyway. So, Gwen is so creeped out that she just sits her butt down by Evil Gwen as if she’s the comforting presence here.

Her name’s too long. Let’s call Evil Gwen uh…….Gren. You know, like Grendel from Beowulf. I haven’t actually read Beowulf and this is all a little confusing but I'm solving problems here. Writing this is harder for me than you would think so it’s best to keep things flowing off the cuff. That’s the Gwenpool™ style anyway, isn’t it? Are you laughing yet? IMPROV. “YES AND” MY SHIT, READER!

“So, you ever really look into the retconned past thing, hun?” Gren said, moving her tongue around her food. Being gross as an attempt to be properly evil. She swallowed before continuing. “This is all I could really put together on short notice but i’m pretty sure what the future people created, all that stuff to try and trick you, it was all bullshit.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me to go all psycho like you again?” Gwen asked, exasperated, realizing she was now back in the whole ‘fuck with Gwen to decide her fate’ song and dance routine from the end of her first arc.

“Nah, not really.” Gren said. A hammer appeared in her hands out of nowhere and Gren swung it into their fake father’s head, snapping his neck..

“DAD!” Gwen instinctively cried as she saw her father’s body slump to the floor. Gren slapped Gwen’s face. “That’s it,” Gren said, “this is what the trick was.This is a poorly created character in a fictional story. Meant to manipulate you into attaching your concept of “father” to it. Even his finished version in the original comics run wasn’t THAT well drawn. Your dad read like a boomer’s idea of a responsible parent. You were going through a mental crisis and struggling to find purpose in life and his genius idea was get a shitty low paying job and suck it up?”

Gren turned to their brother, pushed his face to the table and smashed the back of his skull. . “Brother dearest, too. Going right along with their victim blaming. He gaslighted you as if what you were going through was just you being ‘irresponsible.’ Bitch, people working a minimum wage job aren’t somehow not impoverished and miserable because they get some of that ‘honest work’ that folks keep badgering on about. Minimum wage work is occupied by many physically and mentally disabled people held hostage; they’re people society only pretends to care about. Then they turn it all into you acting like some world ending threat. No questions about what drove you to the edge in the first place. You are just ‘unstable,’ so you’re just a problem to be solved. They say, ‘Let’s all solve this girl being upset and on edge by ruining her concept of self, reality, and memory.’ Brilliant!”

Gwen barely processed this in horror. Gren then slit the poor facsimile of their mother’s throat while continuing to rant, “You see people die all the time, Gwen. Half of the time you are doing the killing. You do it because it’s in a story. In a story the NPCs don’t matter and, after all, your original schtick in the story was to be kill-crazy. The non-marketable characters can be replaced or retconned at the stroke of the artist’s pen.” Gren leans forward as she pulls a Gwenpool mask over Gwens face. “Then the writers convince you that you have some middle class milk toast family and you take abuse and subsume your emotional needs because the problem MUST be you. You aren’t ‘normal’ so you have to be fixed.”

Gwen wiped her eyes over the mask and sighed. A bit of fire filled her gut as she stared at Gren. “So fucking what? You want me to go on a killing spree and be a big time villain to get myself a nice, shiny permanent big bad status? That’s how I stay around right? Just build my legacy on bodies?”

Gren scoffed “You already lost that fight, girly. Where do you think we are? Because this ain’t Marvel Comics.”

Confused, Gwen blinked and tried reaching for the page margins, finding nothing. Wait….why was everything on this page so ill defined and undetailed? Wait? Why was the story in kinda wobbly third person past tense?

Gwen sighed “Oh. I’m in a fanfic. I guess the publishing fight is for another day eh?”

“My advice, personally,” Gren stated, “is that you consider the lobster.”

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Gren pulled aside the kitchen curtains revealing the face of a giant lobster, its claws tapping on the glass. The lobster muttering gutterally about personal responsibility.

“Because there’s a couple thousand giant lobsters outside that would like to claw you until you read their book.”

Scared of Girls

On the rooftop, Gren shoved a high powered rifle into Gwen’s hands while she handled the close range threats. So, this conversation they’re about to have is important. Sniping puts Gwen into a sort of zen space, so that’s a better task to keep her focused, after all.

“So, what? You wanted me to internalize that my “origin story” is bullshit? Okay, what does that accomplish, then?” Gwen asked in a bit of a deadpan. She was so tired today. Not really feeling her happy go lucky energy. More like a “happy go fucky” energy. It was hard to always be on a knife's edge. Still the rifle’s kick into her shoulder was satisfying as she blew through two of the creepy looking lobsters at once. “Also, why the lobsters?”

Gren considered this. “Okay, last question first, I had to experiment a lot and do a lot of research to construct this place for your learning and healing in fanfic form....These buddies are a failed experiment of mine that I repurposed because the fic needed more action. Isn’t that right, giant enemy crap?” As she peppers the nearest goon with a hail of shotgun pellets the entire throng of them burst out, sharply muttering about divine symbols.

“As for what I'm trying to teach you, it’s that you aren’t reaching your potential.” Gren grumpily huffed.

“Duh,” Gwen reloads, “I mean you just killed a mannequin version of the voice in my head that says that to me every day.” one of those crustaceans talks about feminine symbolism while she decides on her next target.

“Not like fake daddy’s ‘Be a responsible member of society by paying your taxes’ type of potential. I mean your creative and emotional potential.” Gren flipped off the slavering throng of monsters, noticing they were starting to keep their distance from the roof.

“I never did finish that fanfic idea I had.” Gwen mused.

“God, don’t mention that,” Gren thrusts a finger at Gwenpool. “Not that I don’t respect fanfic, but when comic book writers make you and Kamala squee about fanfiction to try and relate to “the kids” it comes across as so condescending.”

“Really? I mean…..I'm sure it’s meant as support for the concept?”

“Most fucking superhero comics are just legalized fanfiction! The people who created the characters are either long gone or working on someone else’s characters! They just think they are so much better because they got fucking paid. They can’t imagine themselves as on the same playing field as fanficcers even though most of them have the same level of connection to the roots of the work as anyone else.” Gren groused loudly as she seemed to pull Reed Richards out of nowhere.

Confused, Reed looked around until his eyes met Gwen’s.“Oh great, you again.” Reed groaned as he turned to survey the piles of lobster gibs while Gwen cheered the lobster forces’ retreat with a resounding “EDF, EDF!”. The scattered creatures skittered amongst the bland scenery. It looked like a suburban neighborhood but someone forgot to color in the sky….or write that the sky had color. A castle hung out in the distance breaking up the generic normalcy and lay cloaked in shadow despite being surrounded by an endless white void.

“And…..black….you?” Reed pointed to Gren, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I have an evil future self….well I stopped that future so it’s an….evil...alternate timeline self?” Gwen said with a nervous chuckle, abandoning the kill quest for the minute and rested her rifle on the roof.

“Ah. Yeah I’ve been down that road. It’s a rather common occurrence. Multiverse being what it is.” Reed laughed heartily while putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m not sure I’m evil, honestly,” Gren interjected. “I think I’m just really fucking grumpy and I’m slightly more gung-ho on the homicide. Considering Gwen’s already one of the more kill crazy characters on the roster it’s not that much of a distinction.” Gren flipped her cape. “My main distinction is I don’t like that meme from The Incredibles! You can just make it so the cape detaches automatically when it’s pulled hard enough!”

“You could still have it tangled up around your face.” Reed pointed out in his standard know-it-all fashion.

“Don’t make me go into fuck wife mode, stretch.” Gren spat. “Okay, anyway, so I brought him here to illustrate a point. Reed. Explain particle physics to me as a laymen.”

“Huh...i’m not sure why but okay. Particle physics (also known as high energy physics) is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects (e.g. protons, gas particles, or even household dust), particle physics usually investigates the irreducibly smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain their behaviour. In current understanding, these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that also govern their interactions. The currently dominant theory explaining these fundamental particles and fields, along with their dynamics, is called the Standard Model. Thus, modern particle physics generally investigates the Standard Model and its various possible extensions, e.g. to the newest "known" particle, the Higgs boson, or even to the oldest known force field, gravity.” Reed rattled this off rather mechanically.

Gren then took out her phone and showed Gwen the Wikipedia article on “Particle Physics,” which is naturally the same words that Reed had regurgitated above, just without any formatting and, again, on a phone.

“Reed can’t be a genius in any subject unless he’s written by a genius in that subject. That’s how stories work. Everyone is limited by the understanding and capabilities of the writer. Same with your origin story and all the people you’ve interacted with. If you are as ‘meta’ as you think you are then you have to realize that you aren’t actually talking to people. You are talking to the writer. Dr. Strange didn’t rewrite your existence to be a part of the Marvel Universe. As far as most of Marvel continuity goes Dr. Strange was never there and doesn’t know or care about his MCU casting…..Hey Reed, buzz off please before the conversation pivots to why you haven’t cured all known diseases.”

Reed looked a little surprised but then pulled out a teleportation device (of course he has one) and blipped away with a shrug.

“How awkward is that going to be when he enters the MCU after Kamala is already introduced with a very similar power set?” Gwen chuckled.

“Keep up the way you’ve been going and you’ll never see it. I’m not exactly expecting a young blonde girl casting call for Deadpool 3 and that’s your best bet.” Gren snarked. Gwen winced with a sigh.

“I don’t get what I'm doing wrong. I have a fanbase comparable to some of the characters that have already shown up but I can’t even get comics written about me most of the time. An MCU push seems unlikely. They would literally have to deal with completely recontextualizing my powers and gimmick”

“Let’s ask her what you should do.” Gren motioned her way to the suddenly appearing long hair future Gwen, looming over them like The Attack of the 50 foot Woman for some reason. Dwarfing the roof they are on. Let’s call her BIGwen!

Gold Guns Girls

As BIGwen acclimated to her surroundings she stubbed her toe on a car, dramatically flipping it so that it took out a few more lobsters before caving in a nearby house. The lamentations about clean rooms soaring as the remaining couple dozen of them attempt to clean up some of the bodies of their fallen kin. The large and sort-of-in-charge Gwen hissed in pain and adjusted her boot. Getting her balance as best as possible she muttered curses that traveled rather well considering the lung capacity of a giant.

“You know,” Gren started, “I wasn’t expecting much from our previous uses of the ‘make her big for emphasis’ trick, but it really does only work as a vague ghostly background element. I didn’t just want it to be ‘oh, here's a third Gwen for the conversation, though. Would lack umph.”

“ Yeah, I get it, but staring at my own giant taint is unsettling.” Gwen muttered.

“I’d still, hit it.” Gren grinned, then immediately got punched in the arm. “OWWW! Look, I’m the evil one here and we’re in a fanfic. I’m allowed to make internet fetish jokes.”

“And I’m allowed to hit you for it.”.

“Dirty lampshading goody two shoes. Don’t act like half your fanbase isn’t thirsty. It’s “insert current year argument”, all art is sexy to someone.” Gren complained back,rubbing her arm before hopping off the roof. Gwen followed while listening as patiently as she could considering how many changes in topic her evil-caped self is going through to get to her point. “This chick is the reason you’ve been on the path of good girl. Some vague idea that in the future everything will work out for the best. HEY, DOWN HERE, BIG SHOW!” Gren waved at BIGwen and she looked down curiously.

“Yeah what??” BIGwen responded in a booming and agitated tone. Honestly, being in this fic made every version of Gwen a little grumpy.

“How’s she supposed to be a popular hero that makes it into the MCU and has a stable publication history?” Gren asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Came BIGwen’s response. “Have you tried growing your hair out?”

“Rub it in,” Gwen muttered under her breath, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of depressed now.” Gwen said as she sat on an abandoned car.

Gren hopped on the roof of the car, patting Gwen’s shoulder before squatting with enough force to flex the car’s shocks like a rocking chair just to amuse herself. “Future “good” Gwen wasn’t an actual plot point, it was a call to action to the fans to make fanfic like this and support the character outside of the actual Canon. Chris didn’t trust that Marvel would treat the character right. That, and your obsession with getting a new book, are both the writer’s attempt to turn a marketing tactic into fan engagement. If you want to be real then that makes the fans want you to be real even more, too.”

Gwen sighs heavily and leans her chin on one hand. “I mean...the time traveling through the life of an NPC fan complete with a Never Ending Story reference was a bit sappy even by the standard we sometimes set...damn it it really was just kind of a fan manipulation trick wasn’t it?”

BIGwen Sat down on the street next to them and crossed her legs. “Hey, little me. Don’t get too down. I mean it worked for the most part. You have a healthy cult following. Characters have survived on less and there are worse things to be known for then as a fan first character”

“But I have to fight for attention all the damn time, though. It’s so easy for Wade with his fucking meme bullshit. He even gets runoff enthusiasm from me. Jeff the land shark is all over Oldpool online” Gwen felt rather heavy and tired all of a sudden. Marvel editorial forcing a gun to your head is not a fun way to be.

“All that fight is hell on the fanbase too.” Gren sighed. “Advocating for shit, getting crumbs and being expected to accept it while Disney lavishes all the attention based on some bullshit numbers game. Even if you make it into the MCU will it be a Batroc style cameo with obligatory ‘killed off in case we don’t feel like paying the actor again later.’ Will it be an emotionally rounded character or an ambush bug style joke? The thing is. You're Not the one fighting and you never were.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

“This version of her doesn’t know?” BIGwen whimpered.

“You aren’t real, Gwen.”

Head Like a Haunted House

“No….we aren’t having this conversation. Fuck you fuck you i’m not a fucking Nihlist and i’m not going to do this right now.” Gwen said as she scrambled off of the car and pulled out some guns. BIGwen then picked her up off the ground.

“You need to hear this, Gwen,” BIGwen boomed. “The gimmick has run its course. It’s fucking with your canon. You’re never going to be a marketable character keeping up a half fourth-wall Kayfabe”

Gren climbed onto BIGwen’s Shoulders and perched over Gwen all menacing like. “You need to listen. I’ve been trying to ease you into this. Making things more meta slowly until you were ready but it was never going to be easy.”

One of Gwen’s guns was fired from it’s holster and pierced one of BIGwen’s fingers. BIGwen screamed and her grip loosened. Soon Gwen was on the move running up her arm and firing at Gren, who dodged like the nimble and cute badass she is. “Don’t do this Gwen. Just because it doesn’t matter to the comic version of you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m a real person god damn it! I read the comics out there! I came in! That’s why I know shit I shouldn't know. That’s what I am! THAT’S ALL I AM!” Gwen shrieked as she pulled out a sword from hammer-space and decapitated BIGwen. Suddenly a mess of colored streamers and a pile of Mickey Mouse merch tumbled out. Look, I am busy right now. Gwen is still slashing at my ass. I'm not going to explain it.

For some reason now the remaining lobsters were helping Gren. For Gwen’s own good you understand. This is proof that I’m right for some reason.

Gwen pulled out a revolver, firing pumpkin sized holes in lobsters who were still wailing about self actualization. She fully planned on shoving a sword up her evil self’s ass and getting rid of this doppelganger shit for good. Which is total bullshit by the way. She totally just cut off Gren’s leg because what the fuck you mean I’m not real? I’m going to be real all over your corpse.

Gren didn’t really think that was even a good comeback and also thought you should probably say it instead of meta willing the smack talk into existence, otherwise this fanfic is going to read like trash. Also, Gren’s leg wasn’t actually cut off. In a puff of smoke it is revealed that the cut off leg is a log and her leg is fine. Gren is a ninja now, believe it.

Gwen proceeded to do a sick ass CQC judo throw on Gren and then grab her cape and wrap it around her face like Reed suggested. Callbacks for the win! Callbacks to Checkov’s gun ideas always lead to victory in fights! She then totally shot at her and such.

But the bullet was caught by the cape because the cape was a symbiote! That’s right Gren is also GRENOM!...boy that sounds stupid. Anywho, the cape was no longer around her face and the fight continued and Gren now ALSO had extra powers and special wizard-symbiote armor (that would only show up in the MCU version if Marvel finally got the Sony characters back). The meta powers work like shit in text but this would be really good in CGI or animation if Marvel wanted to adapt this fic and give the writer lots of money. Gren still has more experience with them, though, and Gwen can’t really just kill her way out of this fic so she has to just let the story play out.

…...eh?....oh Gwen’s crying. I love/am you girl but we gotta work on the crying. Fucks sake this is harder than I thought. I’m depressed now too. Well I'll try to get the writing back on track so you guys can see what is going on. Even the lobsters are minding their manners now. Chill vibes, guys.

“The marvel character page for Gwenpool says, and I quote:

Gwenpool arrived in the Marvel Universe from the “real world,” but has wasted no time in making the most of her time in her fictional universe. Using her knowledge of comics to her advantage, Gwenpool causes and solves problems for her fellow heroes.”

Gren drags a lobster corpse slowly toward Gwen and sits on its tail as she talks to her. Taking her time to really scrape the lobster against the ground, smearing the gore on the pavement. Not that it was heavy for her or anything. Totally still has that symbiote, which would make moving it easy. Totally wasn’t a detail added in the second revision of the fic slightly before the lobsters were added.

“The words “Real world” are in quotation marks in that wiki. Real people don’t make it into comics because fiction isn’t real. Half of your versions barely make use of the ‘real person’ gimmick because it’s too meta by half and not every writer wants to waste time justifying it. So they just treat it like Deadpool’s medium awareness. Which it mostly is.”

“I really am just a fucking rip off distaff character.” Gwen moans. “Just a Gwen combined with a Pool. I’m worse than the Batman who laughs. I never mattered because I was never real”

“Fuck don’t say that. You were made with love and care by a team of creators who took a weird offshoot idea and built out a compelling metafiction idea and a likeable protagonist off of it. They just didn’t have the time and foresight to go far enough.” Gren sighed.

“Far enough?” Gwen sniffed as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged toward one of the big castles. As they walked Gren kicked along a Mickey Mouse doll that had rolled out of BIGwen’s severed head. Every time it bounced it cheerfully said ‘hahah. I love you!’

“Too much haha, not enough trauma. You’re not just a joke character.” Gren said as she kicked the Mickey doll into the big front door of the castle. The shadowy thing of course lighting up and being all fantasy and shit as the door opened.

“Well I did end both of my comic runs pretty mopey.”

“Damn right you did. When the jokes run thin they run to your real bread and butter. You’re an empathy machine.” As Gren shoves Gwen through the gate they are swallowed up in the castle, going dark again. “Let’s getcha sad clown on.”

Never there

“See, what evil me should have been telling you about in the original run is how to find meaning and purpose when technically nothing means anything. Comic book characters live in a world without real death and suffering. It’s all a puppet show version of real pain and real emotion meant to bring that out of an audience.” Gren opined as they walked through a black void to a couch floating in a nothing area lit only by the static of an old TV.

“Can we turn on a light?” Gwen asked as she sat on the couch. Gren sat on another recliner that suddenly appeared and put her feet up.

“Fuck off. Ambiance is a thing. We aren’t having a ‘lights on with something fun on the TV’ conversation. So look, I am not really ‘evil gwen.’ I’m half an author insert and half a plot device. If we are talking about the reality of the story you are basically talking to yourself. I am speaking about the things you don’t want to admit to yourself. You know, you’ve seen this kind of story sorta... right?” Gren picked up the remote and frustratedly changed channels between a bunch of vaguely illustrative footage on the TV, not finding anything that worked. A lot of black and white footage of trains for some reason. Just what comes to mind when I think of documentary footage? Weird.

“I am not sure how to illustrate this shit visually and this is a text story anyway so I would have to explain the illustration,” Gren griped.

“I basically get it. It’s not that uncommon a trope.” Gwen nodded.

“Because of the level of meta we are on right now we have to really acknowledge that you are basically an author insert, too. I mean, to a certain extent every version of you is more the writer that is working with your character at the time than a set character.” Gren said as she settled on a visual of Gwen being pushed out the window by her own narration text in the original comic run. When all else fails, resort to footage from the last story. That way people can look it up online!

“Right here is where the character crystallized in the mind of the author of the current fic we are in. A vague suicide metaphor wrapped up in the flavor of self destructive escapism. Your parents in the story thought it was a suicide attempt on at least some level. This is serious business. Not just a girl who doesn’t like work and can’t finish her fanfic. In this comic you are built on this understanding. The writer of this fic has ADHD and autism. So his version of you more or less has it, too. Writers bring themselves with them into their work.”

Gwen nods and takes a deep breath. “I….I can feel it. Like the world is closing around you. You aren’t built for anything that anyone wants from you. The one thing you really believe in, the one thing that really defines you, the stories in your head…..it’s just not enough.

You can’t trust you’ll ever make it with writing because you can barely write. You barely have the energy to do anything but wish that you weren’t you. What if someone actually listened? Actually believed in you and whisked you away somewhere else where the world would fit your needs? What if you were someplace you could be someone else, someone strong and confident?”

“Yeah. Like a funny anti hero in a comic for instance.” Gren nodded. “But the original comics sort of left the theme on the table. They were captured by the misconception of Gwen as the problem and not a person who needed help. All that desperation that real fans of the character might feel just bundled up into love for this character that really ‘gets’ them but Marvel doesn’t ‘get’ the character. They won't use her. They won’t go past vaguely gesturing at her mental issues and moving on. They saved the angst for Wandavision.” Gren scoffs.

“I mean the show was okay but they literally have a character built entirely on the theme of escapism and trauma. One that’s custom built for mind-screw visuals and reality bending plots and they think she’s just a lazy fangirl who really likes guns that they can sit beside Deadpool sometimes and stick in the X-Men’s bloated background character roster when they don’t need her.”

Gren leads Gwen off the couch and deeper into the void where a door to a bedroom waits. A room like her own, absolutely slopping over with old toys of comic book characters. An unclean messy space in a run-down house that smells faintly of cigarette smoke. Huddled in bed, reading an 80s era X-men comic with a flashlight, is a 12 year old Gwen.

“This is never going to be canon but this is the version of Gwen in this fic. She can’t stop crying at school. Things that shouldn’t be hard are so hard and she can’t explain why. Everyone says she’s making excuses. Meanwhile her mother is fucked out of her mind on pain killers and her step father killed himself last year ‘cleaning his gun’ while drunk. You know exactly what is on her mind right now?” Gren says as she gestures at the girl.

“I wish the superheroes would save me from this.”

“They won’t. They can’t. They were never meant to.” Gren Slams the door loudly on the scene.

“That is the emotional core of Gwenpool in this fic. The desperation that so many of the fans down here in the fucking muck of the real world feel. Poor and emotionally unfulfilled. Confused and vulnerable. If Disney and Marvel gave two fucking shits about people like that they wouldn’t waste as many stories as they do. They wouldn’t just use untold wealth to make expensive escapist stories with the military. Their gestures toward progressive ideas that they occasionally make in their stories would be THE ENTIRE POINT of their stories and the actual thing they used that money for instead of lobbying the government to keep Mickey Mouse out of the public domain.

“Disney has the power yet they save a fucking miniscule fraction of who they could. Saving people doesn’t make money.”

When I Get To The Green Building

Gren stormed through the void. The scene disintegrated around her as Gwen followed. Both now in a bit of a sour mood but with newfound determination.

“Come to think of it. Why is the fucking Hulk getting to fight for social justice in the comics? Why are they making a gay alternate universe Captain America? Why are they grasping at straws so hard to find characters that get to advocate and I am just sitting on a fucking island being grumpy?” Gwen groused. “I’m pretty sure I’m pansexual….at least in this fic. I could advocate for a bunch of shit at once.”

“You have a youth fanbase, a unique story and you technically aren’t an alternate universe version of fucking anything no matter how many people still think you are a Stacey. They made a fucking ‘for the fans’ character and then neglected it. Presumably because some fucking money making metric didn’t pan out despite the comics just being an MCU test kitchen and IP farm anyway.”

“You’re a fucking check mark on a ledger. I don’t even know if anyone technically created Gwenpool as a whole and Disney/Marvel can give the character to whoever they want to do whatever they want completely separate from what the fanbase wants and needs because she isn’t established. The IP landlords have spoken. The fans haven’t risen to enough ‘buy my merch’ calls to action to invest more resources. So tease endlessly until that changes.”

“Gah. Now I'm actually as pissed as you are.” Gwen said as she started fiddling with her guns. “Who do I kill?”

“We can’t do shit. You’re not even a character at this point. You are a meme for an underused character.” Gren smirked all evil like. “See but that’s it. You aren’t just a meme. You’re a MEME.”

“Uhm...I don't follow.”

“Like the concept of Justice. Gwenpool is an idea. Defined entirely by how people who engage with the idea choose to engage with it. The IP law means Disney owns Gwenpool but they don’t own how Gwenpool is perceived. Just like we as a people decide what justice is through popular consent we also decide what Gwenpool is. You see they made a character for the fans…..in my opinion that means the fans can do as they like with it even if it makes Disney uncomfortable.”

“I mean they can’t even stop porn of their characters just because of the sheer volume of the problem. I suppose people could do whatever.” Gwen nodded.

“Exactly. So the fans should just fucking Occupy Gwenpool!” Gren said as she flipped her cape dramatically with a mad smile on her face. That’s right. She was Dirtbag Leftist Gwen all along!

“Squat on that IP. Make Gwenpool a mental health advocate. Make her an LGBTQ activist. Make her fight for social and financial justice so hard that Bruce Banner looks like a poser. Make her talk shit about politicians who put their career ahead of the people. Do all the shit that makes the comicsgate crowd sad. Keep politics in our stories! Rally around that pink and white ass so hard they have to notice and then tie it all to the fact that Disney has great power and with great power they take no responsibility for how shitty the world is.”

“ If they are going to fuck Gwenpool fans they gotta learn Gwenpool fans fuck back. We have already proven we can make all kinds of cool shit. Let’s get serious and make more, harder, faster! Get a hashtag or some shit. They can't DMCA all of us! GWEN IS OURS WE JUST HAVE TO REACH OUT AND TAKE IT. Then they either respect the character and her fans or they just hit a PR disaster.”

“Marvel/Disney neglects fan focused cult character themed protest movements. Proves they are only progressive when it makes them money. They’re so worried about Mickey ending up in the public domain? We’re the public domain! After our entire lives stannin their characters and buyin their merch building them from an animation house into a juggernaut they are just another weight on top of the boot on our necks. They have to take responsibility!” At this point Gren is pretty much ranting maniacally and neglecting the actual writing of the story so this is Gwen taking over to wrap up.

Guys I may not be ‘the real Gwen’ but really, isn’t the version of Gwen that actually came from the real world all of us? Isn’t Gwenpool really the Gwens we made along the way? We could easily bring a little heroism and chaos to the real world (at least to the internet) if we really tried. Put the fear of God into some IP landlords and fight for some cool people that society is screwing over, too.

Prove that even in the fandom abyss people aren’t as powerless as they seem. Use that internet comic fan mobbing for something besides giving Zack more money. Disney is gearing up for their next IP fight for Mickey in 2024. Seems like a fine time for IP themed protests. For now we just need to spread the word that our needs are more important than their profits.

It’s been real. It’s been long. It’s been a real long time coming…..

But I finally finished my fanfic.

See ya, true believers.

#gwenpool #fanfic #deconstruction #outofloveiswear #fortheoriginalwritersnotmarvelordisney #tw mental health #tw mentions of suicide #tw mentions of drug abuse #tw violence #tw gun violence

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fuckallthegood0nesweretaken · 4 years ago

Text

New World CH. Six

Title: Fallen Home

Words: 3410

Warnings: Strong language, character death (major and minor), canon-typical violence, kissing

A/N: If you’d like to request something, send me an ask. I’d love to write for you!

If you’d like to support me, buy me a Ko-Fi?

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Daryl Dixon Masterlist

The Walking Dead Masterlist

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

When it had gotten dark, you, Daryl, Shane, and Rick had taken Randall to the barn. You were holding the lantern and Daryl held Randall by the arm. He was trying to get you to stop, but none of you listened. Rick opened the doors to the barn and you all walked in.

“Put him there,” Rick said, pointing to the middle of the barn. You set the lantern down and leaned against a post, arms crossed.

“It’ll all be over soon,” Shane said quietly. He put a blindfold over Randall’s eyes and Rick went to stand in front of him.

“What’s gonna be over soon?” Randall asked.

“Just relax.”

Rick went to check his gun and when Randall started crying, he looked up.

“Would you like to stand or kneel?” Rick asked.

“Oh no, please,” Randall cried. Rolling your eyes, you pushed yourself away from the pole and shoved him to his knees. Grabbing his hair, you made him look forward.

“Shut up,” you muttered. He kept sobbing, but you didn’t care. When he was gone, the threat of something happening to your family goes away too. Rick made eye contact with you and you nodded, Shane and Daryl doing the same.

“Do you have any final words?”

“No. Please,” Randall begged. “Please don’t. Don’t.”

Rick stayed silent and raised his gun. Pointing it at Randall and cocking it, he was just about to shoot when Carl appeared.

“Do it, dad. Do it,” he said. Your head whipped to the doors and you looked at Rick. Shane let out an angry breath and walked to Carl, taking his arm and leading him outside.

“You kidding me? What did I say to you?” Shane said to Carl. “What did I say?”

Rick took his gun away from Randall’s head. “Take him away.”

Daryl looked at Rick before picking him up. You took the lantern and the two of you led him back to the shed. Daryl tied him back up as you watched.

“I don’t know if he’ll kill him now,” you said after he was restrained and the door locked. “Why did Carl show up? We told him to stay with his mom.”

“I think he just wants ta be involved,” Daryl said.

“Maybe, but he’s just a kid. He shouldn’t have to see all of this. I was talking to Dean and I think he and Beth are being desensitized to everything. I’m gonna have to keep a closer eye on him. What if one of the girls had followed him and he didn’t notice?”

Daryl didn’t say anything, but he pulled you in for a kiss. Once his lips touched yours, you could feel your worries wash away. Letting out a soft sigh, you kissed back gently and put your arms around him. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was soft and gentle. Exactly what you needed in that moment.

“I’d love to keep kissing you, but I’d like it if we took it away from where Randall is,” you murmured, lips brushing Daryl’s. He chuckled and pulled away, taking your hand.

“Are ya tellin’ me that ya want ta go somewhere else?” Daryl said lowly.

“Only if you wanna.”

Daryl looked you up and down before licking his lips. The action made your cheeks heat up and Daryl tugged you close to him before attaching himself to your neck. You whimpered, fire coursing from your neck down to your belly. He was focusing on one spot; kissing, biting, and sucking. You were clinging to his jacket and Daryl started walking you backwards until your back hit the shed with a thud.

“D-Daryl,” you cried when he pulled back. He kissed your lips again, and grabbed your waist.

“Hope ya don’t mind a mark,” Daryl said cheekily.

“I certainly don’t.” Your eyes were hooded and you had forgotten where you were. Going back in for another kiss, a scream pierced through the air.

“Oh my god.” You and Daryl ran towards the screams. Your gun was drawn and Daryl had his knife in his hand.

“T-Dog, grab a shotgun!” You heard Sam say.

The screams got louder and you saw Dale on the ground, a walker on top of him. Daryl was faster and got to him first, tackling the walker to the ground before plunging his knife into its head. You slid next to Dale and looked up to see if there were any more of them around.

“Help! Over here!” Daryl yelled, waving his arms around. “Help! Run!”

“Come on, Dale. Stay with me,” you said. “You’re gonna be alright.”

“Hang in there, buddy,” Daryl said.

“Who is it?” Dean asked. Everyone came at the same time and Rick knelt down by Dale’s head.

“Oh my god,” Shane said. Lori had Carl and Glenn had Adeline in his arms.

Adeline screamed and you gathered her up, pushing her face into your shoulder. Rubbing her back, you tried to calm her down.

“Listen to my voice,” Rick said. “You’re gonna be okay. Get Hershel! He needs blood, we gotta operate right now!”

“Hang on, Dale.” Andrea had fallen to her knees and took Rick’s place next to Dale’s head. Everyone was either yelling or freaking out and you only looked up when you heard Hershel.

“What happened?” He asked.

“What can we do? Can we move him?” Dean asked.

“He won’t make the trip,” Hershel said.

“You have to do the operation here. Glenn, get back to the house!” Rick yelled.

“Rick!” Rick looked at Hershel and when he shook his head, Rick spun around.

“No!” He shouted. You were holding back tears and when you felt Daryl put his hand on your back, you threw yourself into his arms. You could hear some of the others sobbing and you clung tighter to Daryl as Adeline started crying louder.

“He’s suffering,” Andrea said through her tears. “Do something!”

You looked up and saw Rick pulling out his gun. He pointed it at Dale’s head but didn’t pull the trigger. That’s when Daryl gently pulled himself away from you and your daughter, taking the gun from Rick. Kneeling down, he cocked the gun.

“Sorry, brother,” he said before pulling the trigger.

---

You didn’t get much sleep that night, Dale’s screams echoing in your head, his ripped open chest flashing beneath your eyelids whenever you closed them. So you helped dig his grave and decorate it with stones. Daryl and Rick were the ones to bring his body over before you and your brothers helped cover him with dirt. The funeral was held at sunrise and even though Rick was talking, all you heard was mumbles. The air was crisp, but you didn’t feel the cold. All you felt was numb.

After the funeral, you helped pack up everyone’s belongings to be moved into the house. You didn’t have much yourself, but since Lori was pregnant you did all the heavy lifting for her. Bringing some stuff into the house, you walked back outside with T-Dog to find her lifting something too heavy.

“Whoa. Don’t-Don’t strain yourself,” T-Dog said.

“You know you shouldn’t be lifting that,” you chided softly.

“Thank you,” she said. “My family and I are taking the corner of the living room.”

“You can put that in my room,” Hershel said to T-Dog. To Lori he said, “You’ll be more comfortable there.”

“We can’t do that.”

“A pregnant woman sleeping on the floor while I’ve got a bed to myself?”

“This is still your house.”

“It’s our home. I’ll take the couch downstairs. I’m very well acquainted with it.”

“Thank you, Hershel,” you said. “I’ll take the last bin up.”

“Thank you.” Lori smiled at you and you walked upstairs.

As you took a look at the room, you set the bin on the bed. You were about to leave when Lori showed up.

“Well this is cozy,” she said.

“It looks comfortable, that’s for sure.”

“Thanks for helping me bring this up.”

“It was no problem,” you said. “I’ll leave you to unpack.”

You walked around Lori and down the stairs. Setting up yours and Adeline’s blankets and sleeping bags in a corner, you jumped when Daryl dropped a bag next to you.

“Ya don’t mind me stayin’ with ya, right?” He asked. There was nervousness in his voice and you smiled.

“Of course I don’t.” You saw him visibly relax and he touched your cheek gently.

“Gotta go plan with Rick and Sam. I’ll be back later.”

“Alright.”

After you set up your sleeping space, you helped Beth and Jimmy board up the windows. It was something mindless to do and it helped you clear your mind. When that was finished, you walked around the porch, always watching the horizon. You knew that there were better vantage points, but they were away from the house.

It wasn’t long before Daryl and Rick were ready to go drop Randall off and when T-Dog went to go get him, you heard a shout.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, running towards the shed.

“Randall’s missing,” Daryl said. He looked to woods.

“The cuffs are still hooked, he must’ve slipped ‘em,” Rick said.

“Is that possible?” Carol asked.

“If someone really wanted to, they would find a way,” you said.

“The door was secured from the outside?” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“Maybe he slipped through the rafters?”

“Couldn’t have. I sealed those shut today,” Daryl said.

“Rick! Rick!” Shane yelled. You turned around and saw Shane coming from the woods. Blood was all over his face and was dripping onto his chest.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Carol asked him.

“He’s armed! He got my gun!” He said. “And I’m okay, little bastard just snuck up on me. Clocked me in the face.”

“Alright, Hershel, T-Dog, get everybody back in the house. Glenn, Daryl, come with us.”

“I’m coming too, Rick.” Rick looked at you like he wanted to argue, but you shot him down. “I can track just as well as Daryl, you need me.”

“Alright.”

“[Y/n], no. Stay here,” Dean said.

“I’m the best tracker next to Daryl and you know it. I’m going.” You kissed both your brothers cheeks and checked your gun before securing it in its holster.

“T, I’m gonna need that gun,” Shane said.

“Just let him go. That was the plan, wasn’t it? To let him go?” Carol said as she hugged herself.

“We were gonna let him go far away from the farm. Now he’s armed and in the forest. He’s to close,” you said.

“Sam, make sure Adeline stays occupied. I don’t want her freaking out,” you said to him. He nodded and corralled Carl back into the house, Dean following reluctantly.

“Get everybody back in the house. Lock all the doors and stay put!” Rick walked away and you followed closely behind.

“I saw him head up through the trees that way before I blacked out,” Shane said. “Not sure how long.”

“He couldn’t have gotten far,” Rick said.

“He’s still slightly injured and exhausted. Don’t think he’s been gettin’ much sleep since he came here,” you said.

“But he’s armed.”

“So are we. Can you track him?” Rick asked you and Daryl.

“No, I don’t see nothin’,” Daryl answered.

“Yet. But we’ll find him.”

“Hey look, there ain’t no use in tracking him. He went that way, gotta split up to cover more ground,” Shane said. “We just gotta chase him down. That’s it.”

“Kid weighs a buck-twenty five soakin’ wet. Ya tryin’ ta tell us he got the jump on ya?” Daryl looked at Shane.

“I’d say a rock pretty much evens those odds.”

“Alright, knock it off. [Y/n] you go with Daryl and Glenn. Head up the right flank, see if you can find anything. Me and Shane’ll take the left. Remember that we’re not the only ones out here.”

“Alright. Be careful, Rick.”

“I will.” He gave your arm a pat and walked away with Shane.

---

It had gotten dark quick but luckily Glenn had brought a flashlight. After about thirty minutes Daryl had had enough and led you back to where you started.

“We’re just back to square one,” Glenn said.

“If you’re gonna do a thing, ya might as well do it right,” Daryl said back.

“It kind of bothered me that Shane said tracking wouldn’t matter,” you muttered. “Something’s wrong.”

“There’s two sets of tracks right here.” You walked over to Daryl and looked at the ground. “Shane must’ve followed him a lot longer than he said.”

“And there’s fresh blood on this tree.” Daryl shined the flashlight on the tree and you couldn’t help but think that it was the perfect height for Shane to hit his head.

“More tracks here. Looks like they’re moving in tandem,” you said, shaking yourself mentally. Glenn followed Daryl and bumped into him. You could tell that he was nervous and you put a calming hand on his arm.

“There was a little dust up right here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean somethin’ went down.”

“This is getting weird,” Glenn said quietly.

“That’s an understatement,” you quipped.

“Looks like there was trouble here too.”

Daryl shined the light on Randall’s blindfold and Glenn picked it up. Then a branch snapped and the three of you rushed to hide behind some trees. You kept your breathing steady and carefully looked back. You saw a walker and turned to Daryl. Signaling that it was just one, Daryl whistled softly to Glenn and threw him the flashlight.

The noise of the walker got closer to where you were hiding and you readied your weapons. When it was basically on top of you, you got out of your hiding place and Glenn shined the light on his face. It was Randall. Glenn was surprised and before Randall could push him to the ground, you kicked Glenn away. In turn, that made you get tackled by Randall. Daryl shot at him, but missed slightly. The noise made Randall go after Daryl and before you could get to him, Daryl went down too. Glenn was closer and tackled Randall, knocking him off of Daryl. You rushed to help Daryl up and Glenn stabbed him in the head.

“Nice,” Daryl said to Glenn, patting him. To you he said, “Ya alright?”

“I’m fine. You good?” Daryl nodded and touched your cheek. Glenn took his knife out of Randall’s skull and stepped back towards you.

“Doesn’t seem to be any bite marks,” you mused, looking over the body.

“Wait, what?”

“There’s no wounds other than his head. No other blood or scratch marks.”

“His neck broke though,” Daryl said.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m tellin’ ya, he died from this.” Daryl gestured to his neck.

“How’s that possible?”

“It shouldn’t be.” You were frowning, but got up. “We should get back to the house. See if Rick and Shane are back.”

Daryl grabbed his arrow from the tree and the three of you started walking. You heard a shot as you were walking back and you all picked up the pace, eager to get back to the farm. It didn’t take long to get back and Adeline was happy to see you.

“Rick not back yet?” You asked Lori as you picked up your daughter.

“You’re back first.” You frowned and looked outside.

“We heard a shot,” Daryl said.

“Maybe they found Randall?” Sam said.

“We found Randall,” Daryl said. “He turned.”

“The weird thing was that there were no bite marks, no scratches,” Glenn said. “His neck was broken and he died from that.”

“Shane and Randall’s tracks were right on top of each other,” Daryl said. “And Shane ain’t no tracker. He didn’t come up behind him.”

“They were together,” you said quietly.

“Would you please get back out there and find Rick and Shane?” She asked Daryl. “Find out what on earth is goin’ on?”

“Ya got it.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll go too,” you said.

“No mommy!” Ada said, clinging to your neck.

“Alright. I won’t leave,” you said after a second. Adeline in your arms, you went outside. Spotting Daryl, you saw him staring out at the barn, Andrea, Dean, and T-Dog with him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked before your voice died in your throat. Some of the others had joined you.

“Kill the lights, Patricia,” Hershel said.

“I’ll get the guns.” Andrea ran inside.

“Maybe they’re just passing? Like on the highway? Should we go inside?” Glenn said hurriedly.

“Not unless there’s a tunnel I don’t know about,” Daryl said back.

“Herd this size will tear the house apart,” you said. “We either have to fight back or leave. Now.”

“Carl’s gone,” Lori said, running outside.

“What?” Dean said.

“He’s supposed to be upstairs. I’m not leaving without my boy!”

“We’re not,” Carol said. “We’re gonna look again and find him.”

“Fuck!” You muttered. You watched the walkers converge at the barn and looked back when Andrea tried to hand you a gun.

“Thanks.” You set down Adeline and grabbed the gun from Andrea, checking it quickly.

“Ada, baby, you’re going to stay with Lori and Carol, okay? Wherever they go, you go with them.” Adeline nodded and Carol took Adeline inside.

“It’ll be no use ta fight,” Daryl said.

“You can go if you want.” Daryl looked at Hershel.

“Ya gonna take ‘em all on?”

“We have guns and cars,” Dean said. “We might have a fighting chance.”

“Kill as many of them as we can. Use the cars to lead the rest off the farm,” you said, getting the gun ready.

“You serious?”

“This is my farm. I’ll die here.”

“Alright. It’s as good a night as any.” Daryl hopped over the fence and you followed him.

“I’ll ride with you. You drive and I’ll shoot,” you said.

He nodded and you got on the bike behind him. Daryl drove up to the fence and you both started shooting at the walkers that got too close. Glenn and Maggie were in a car and Andrea and T-Dog were in another, your brothers in the Impala. The barn had gone up in flames and once there were too many walkers, Daryl drove to the RV where Jimmy was.

“Maybe Rick and Shane set the fire. Go get ‘em!” Jimmy nodded and drove off. Daryl left again soon after and you kept shooting as he drove.

“There’s too many of them!” You shouted. “Nothing’s gonna happen ‘cept us running out of ammo.”

Despite that, you kept shooting until you were completely out.

“I have nothing left! Drop me off at the house.”

Daryl drove to the house and before you could leave, he kissed you fiercely. You kissed back and reluctantly pulled away, running to Lori and Adeline.

“Still haven’t found Carl?” You asked. She shook her head and you ran into the house. Grabbing your pack and some of the girls things, you went back outside. “We gotta leave Lori. We can’t stay here.”

“I can’t leave without Carl!”

“You have to trust, Lori,” Carol said. You grabbed Adeline and Sophia while Carol went inside to get Beth and Patricia. The six of you started running and T-Dog and Andrea drove up. Patricia got swarmed and Lori pulled Beth away.

“Get in!” Andrea yelled, getting out of the truck to shoot.

“Get Carol!” Lori said to her as she got in. She, Ada, Sophia, and Beth sat in the front while you got into the bed.

“Got a gun, T?” You asked. He handed you one and you started shooting. Looking at Andrea, you saw her fall and slammed your hand on the roof of the truck.

“Go, T, go!” You screamed. He started driving away and you kept shooting at the walkers that got too close. After moving away from the farm, you heard fighting in the car. It was getting light out and you hit the roof.

“What’s going on?” You said. Beth opened the window and you heard Lori talk about going to the highway.

“She’s right, T-Dog. If anyone survived, they’ll be going there.” After another minute of fighting, Lori threatened to open the door and walk there herself.

“You turn around or you let us out right now!”

“You’re out of your damn mind!” He said. But he turned the car around and started going back to the highway. You let out a sigh of relief, sitting back and letting yourself relax slightly. Hopefully everyone else was there.

#New World #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead x reader #supernatural x reader #daryl dixon #The Walking Dead #supernatural #twd #spn

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well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 4 years ago

Note

Mammon and MC for that recent send me a ship

I don't know why I even expected a different ship😂😂😂

1.) Gives nose/forehead kisses

MC does!! They know Mammon needs a lot of reassurance physical affection and he always blushes so prettily when they do it. It's a win-win situation. Mammon wants to give nose/forehead kisses too but gets too shy before he goes through with it. If he does manage to work up the courage it'd be really abrupt and seemingly spontaneous (he's actually been zoned out the whole time thinking about kissing them) and then he's immediately running off, blushing and yelling about being "a busy demon who has important work to do"

2.) Gets jealous the most

.................................... :|

3.) Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive

MC does the picking up cause they can't technically get drunk and Mammon's the one who's usually out gambling and/or drinking (isn't it canon that Mammon's 'shy blushing virgin' act only started after MC arrived? I think Asmo mentions something like that twice? Not in those words obviously but)

4.) Takes care of on sick days

Both!

MC's actually pretty level headed during Mammon's sick/hurt days. They give him the needed medicine/treatment, make sure he's hydrated and fed and resting in bed and spends the rest of the day cuddled with him because he gets super needy and clingy when he's sick.

Mammon is a MESS whenever MC is sick. Is his human dying! Are they in pain! Fuckfuckfuck. Bursts into MC's room with his arms full of medicine, blankets, warm soup, water bottles, pillows, and anime he stole borrowed from Levi. Absolutely doting while also denying that he cares, at full volume. Hysterically searches human care sites on his D.D.D. while MC sleeps

5.) Drags the other person out into the water on beach day

I mean solmare pretty much answered this; Mammon! If MC isn't fast enough he will scoop them up and toss them in

6.) Gives unprompted massages

Neither. Unprompted massages don't work with either of them. MC tries at first. They are much less shy with their emotions than Mammon is (though I think the game has also told us that MC keeps their emotions pretty close to their chest? Lucifer mentioned it once) but Mammon freaks out and squirms so much all they get is a near miss of his elbow to their face. From all the brothers the game's shown that Mammon's probably the least likely to touch MC without any verbal consent and even then he usually waits for MC to make the first move so yeah unprompted massages don't work. However, when Lucifer's punishments get too much or when Mammon is reliving the war MC may sometimes massage him depending on if he's in a mood to be touched. This works vice versa too when MC relives/remembers the pain of being killed (because according to Grisella that's something you never forget)

7.) Drives/rides shotgun

During the rare times they actually use a car Mammon drives. They both scream along to songs on the radio

8.) Brings the other lunch at work

Mammon. The only actual job Mammon has is as a model and he'd always rather grab like a cereal bar to eat between shoots rather than deal with the hassle of actual food. Mammon (who once in a panic spent a whole night reading through articles on how much water/food/sleep a human needs) is much more likely to bring MC food while they work/study. Usually it's just cup noodles though, but it's the thought that counts.

9.) Has the better parental relationship

...as in who gets on with their parents the best? (I'm gonna take it as that cause there's a kid ask further down) Bruh...Mammon's dad straight up kicked him down the stairs and outta the house & (in my HC) MC doesn't have any living relatives. The closest thing either of them has to a parent is Lucifer... Despite how different they are and how much trouble Mammon gets in with Lucifer and how cruel Lucifer can be towards him we all know they're actually really close and when it comes down to it Mammon knows he can depend on Lucifer to have his back. MC absolutely gets the most terrifying shovel talk of their life once they and Mammon officially start dating. MC's relationship with Lucifer has been pretty up and down because oh he's hot he seems nice what a FUCKINH asshole oh actually he's just an overworked single mom THIS FUCKER TRIED TO KILL ME AGAIN WTF oh wait he's actually only really worried about his family I mean he's not bad actually wait under those 76 hard layers he's kinda soft wait is he in love with me what the hell wait no he's worried because his marriage is rocky rn... DAD!? But once they get over all that they have a pretty stable relationship and an understanding that they are family and will support each other. Mammon also gets a shovel talk.

10.) Tries to start role-playing in bed

Mammon tries. He sees something that he thinks a human is supposed to find sexy and wants to try it out cause he thinks MC will like it. (Takes a while to work up the nerve) but one day he pins MC to the bed, gives them his best sultry look and says in his Dark-Dangerous-Deep-Cool-Mysterious™ voice (that sounds a little too like Lucifer's for his liking) "Hey Baby, have you been naughty? Do you need Daddy to spank you?" MC and Mammon then just stare at each other with a blank face for a while before MC's cackling, rolling on their back, wheezing, choking, while Mammon's keening and trying to suffocate himself with his pillow. After they have both gathered their wits and Mammon has effectively buried his flaming face in MC's neck, MC reassures him he doesn't need to try to be a cool bad boy or whatever else for them to like him and they liked him just fine as he was and anyway they already thought he was cool but if that was something he actually wanted to try because he genuinely wanted to and not just because he thought it's what they wanted then they could try it. He tells them to shut up

11.) Embarrassingly drunk dancer

MC if you actually manage to find something to get them drunk. Look they have a stressful life okay and one way to reduce that stress is to get smashed and dance on a table while (badly) grinding on air. Mammon is surprisingly a good dancer when drunk...sure it's all sexual (see my Drunk HC post) but it's still good. He is, however, a completely embarassing dancer when sober

12.) Still cries watching Titanic

Look we all know who it is... The game told us who it is...I'm not gonna say it again

13.) Firmly believes in couples costumes

Mammon but he tries his best to deny it. He's a hopeless romantic he just doesn't want anyone else knowing about it (they do) so he'll try to play is off as a coincidence. OH! Ya goin' as a witch!? Well I'mma black cat. A young rain drenched Victorian? That's wild bro anyway I'mma a vampire.

14.) Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas

Both! We've actually seen that Mammon does actually buy things for his brothers, work actual jobs to buy things for MC and the two times he thought he came into a large amount of money the first thing he did was text MC asking them what they wanted with the money, before even confirming whether it was a scam or not. So yeah he definitely breaks the rule. MC, who wants to spoil their first man and who always has a large amount of money on them (because of said first man) also breaks the rule

15.) Makes the other eat breakfast

Lucifer. (And Beel) neither of them ever get the chance to miss breakfast because it's, in Lucifer's words, "the most important meal of the day and you have to spend it with your family. Missing it leads to early morning lectures. Also missing a meal means going hungry caue Beel would have eaten it and everything else

16.) Remembers Anniversaries

Both! They are both so smitten there's no world in which either of them would forget

17.) Brings up having kids

Mammon does casually at first. Not their own biological kids but instead his kid. The one with the witches. He doesn't say it in so many words but instead casually mentions how cool it'd be to see them again. On one of those unusual days where he is quieter he says he wants MC to meet her. Later MC's the one who mentions paying off all his debts with the witches (using the money his favourism unconsciously manifests and getting the kid. Obviously they'd have to bring it up to the others first.

#asks #answers #obey me #obey me shall we date #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #obey me!#shall we date? obey me!#swd obey me #obey me mammon #swd mammon #om! mammon #ask meme #ask game

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katehuntington · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Black Dog - part six Word count: 5100± words Episode summary: When Sam gets an anonymous phone call with information about his father, Dean receives a text message with coordinates to different location. The brothers clash and split up, one following orders, the other trusting his instincts. Meanwhile, in the wilderness of Cascade Range, Washington State, Zoë loses grip on a personal case and is forced to confront her demons. Without back up, this might very well turn out to be her final hunt. Part six summary: The huntress tries whatever she can to outrun her past. Now that it’s midnight, the shadows are out to get her and threaten to take Dean down as well. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Swearing, smoking, weaponry. Descriptions of torture and murder. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Descriptions of suicidal thoughts and tendencies, depression, panic attacks, hallucinations. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 & @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E03 “Black Dog” Masterlist

No wind, not even the slightest breeze. Evergreens stop whispering, night animals seem to have vanished in the deepest holes of the forest. Whitehorse Mountain has turned into a dead rock in a matter of seconds. No tree can grow, no life can live, only pure evil lingers in these woods now.

Dean looks around in disbelief, his eyes darting to detect anything that moves as he adjusts the backpack hanging from his shoulder. He has seen many things over the years, but the poison that has affected the entire Cascade Range is unlike anything he has ever experienced before. The temperature was already at freezing before midnight struck, yet now it’s so cold, he reckons it’s minus twenty. A shuddering breath leaves his cold lips, when the trees around him begin to crack and moan. Frost crawls up from their roots, covering the trunk with a layer of ice that eventually reaches the branches, causing the remaining leaves to fall. “What the fuck is going on?” he questions, whispering, afraid that whatever stalked this land is listening in on his words.

Zoë backs out, the snow crunching under her boots, nervously shining the flashlight over the shadows which seem to close in and swallow her whole. All she can hear is the sound of her lungs heaving a breath, Dean’s respiration providing her a harmony in the silence. Heart beating loud and fast against her ribcage, she looks over at him, tears glistening in her eyes but she doesn’t reply to the question. “You can still run.” “No chance in hell,” he returns, determined, pushing down the fear that his surroundings are surfacing. Zoë huffs. “Funny you mention that…” “Would you just answer my question, Zo? What the fuck is happening?” he repeats, his eyes flicking left and right, frantically trying to pick up on anything that moves. “It wouldn’t matter if you know, Dean,” she whimpers. “It wouldn’t matter if you stayed either. You can’t save me! It’s - it’s too late! If you go now, you might still have a chance,” Zoë exclaims desperately. Dean stands a little taller, despite that he begins to realize that he’s in way over his head. “I’ll take my chances right here.” “Then that will be the end of it! You’ll never see your Dad again, you’ll never see Sam again!” she shouts at him in an attempt to get through to the hunter. “We’ll see about that,” he returns, despite the thought horrifying him. After all, with Zoë clearly panicking, he needs to be the calm and collected one. “I'm not letting you go down without a fight.”

He takes his shotgun, engages the breech lever, opens the break action and discards the empty casings. Then he picks two shells from his pocket, pushes them into the barrel and brings it back up. The soldier is ready for battle, and this is him offering protection until the very end. Zoë swallows down a lump in her throat, trying to hide the emotions that his gesture brings to the surface. Although she wishes he had chosen differently, she has to appreciate his courageous decision. “Now for the last time, answer me,” he calmly demands, trying to keep a hold on the situation. “What are we dealing with?”

Zoë sighs deeply, finally deciding to tell him. Perhaps he will let her be if she tells the truth, and it will finally click in his stubborn mind that she’s a lost cause. But before Zoë can answer, a howl echoes through the valley. Both are startled by the sound and look at each other, eyes widened. “That ain’t no coyote,” Dean gulps.

Chills run up and down Zoë’s spine as she listens, horrified, as the call is answered by several more of its species. She knows the stories, it’s the last thing you hear before getting ripped to pieces. This is the final warning, announcing their arrival. They are coming for her.

The howls repeat several times, seeming to come from all directions. Frozen on the spot, she scans the area, shivering in fear. The silence returns, the calm before the storm.

Then she sees it.

Her gaze stills and she inhales sharply, focused at the top of the ridge. Dean observes her big terrified eyes and follows them, but he doesn’t see anything. Whatever is there, it’s invisible, at least for him. One thing is clear as day, though; the huntress can see it just fine. Trying to figure out their options, he glances over. But before he can take action, Zoë reacts by doing the one thing Dean didn’t expect her to do; she flees.

Caught off guard, the hunter stares at her running figure for a split second, when he hears the howl again. He might not see what Zoë is running from, but right now might be a good time to get moving himself.

As if they are both being chased by the Devil, they rush down hill through the forest, trying to avoid collision with trees and rocks. The hunter monitors Zoë constantly, not letting her out of sight as she appears and disappears between the evergreens several yards ahead of him. Without hesitation, she skillfully jumps down a ridge, breaks her fall with a somersault and continues her desperate escape attempt. Dean halts at the edge of the cliff and looks down at a stream which has carved itself through the mountain. Whoa, that’s deep! Before he jumps, he glances ahead and spots a small hunter’s cabin. “Smart girl,” he comments.

Dean leaps over the gap, hurting his knees with his fall, but not enough to slow him down. He continues to run down the slope as fast as he possibly can, trying his very best not to trip over roots as he goes. “If you’re not gonna tell me what these motherfuckers are, at least tell me that I can shoot them!” Dean shouts as he jumps over a fallen tree. “Not with salt or silver!” she returns. “Torch them?!” “Won’t work!” “Just fucking great!” Dean curses.

As fast as their feet can carry them, they bolt towards the house on the hill. Zoë reaches the small open space in front of the cabin. Dean watches her as his lungs burn in an attempt to keep up with her. Almost there. Almost th--

Out of nowhere, Zoë slams to the ground. At first Dean thinks she has tripped, but within a fraction of a second he realizes that she just got tackled by the creature that is still invisible to him. Desperately the huntress tries to fight it off, but she doesn’t stand a chance. Dean tries to get to her as fast as he can, but has to watch in horror how the monsters drag her away and tear up her leg, pulling a chilling, agonizing scream from her.

“NO!!!” he roars.

“Dean!!” Zoë cries out between frantic squeals as she claws at the icy soil, despairingly trying to hold on to something before she disappears into the shadows. Crimson poisons the snow underneath her, disrupting the black and white picture.

Not wasting a moment, Dean racks the shotgun and shoulders it. He skids down the slippery hill, the snow allowing him to slide towards her fast while leveling with the ground underneath them. He needs to be positioned low in order to take the shot if he doesn’t want to load her face full with rocksalt.

The skilled hunter aims while still in motion and fires, pulling a loud yelp from whatever creature is on top of her, and for a brief moment Zoë seems to be freed from her ambushers. Quickly, Dean hoists her up and unceremoniously drags her onto the porch and inside the cabin. He pushes the door closed, the heavy iron latch falling shut. It’s good that he wasn’t a second slower, because a strong force rams against the wood from the other side. “Son of a bitch!” he groans, using all his strength to stop the creatures from getting in.

Suddenly, the hinges stop rattling and the violent barking and growling behind the barrier ceases. Vigilant, Dean stands by the door, holding it with both hands flat on the timber, but then notices the line of black dust on the doorstep by his feet. Realizing Zoë just laid down the line of gunpowder-like particles, he turns around, perceiving the smear of blood on the wooden floor. When he follows the trail, he finds the woman who he barely saved, crawling to the opposite wall. As the monsters outside start circling the cabin, her focus darts from one window to the other, completely terrified. There’s no way they could come in, though. Every possible entry of this little cabin is sealed with the black dust, which apparently holds enough power to keep this evil out.

Dean realizes this isn’t the first time Zoë has been here. She made sure she could return to this place if things went south. The fact that she had a back-up plan doesn’t surprise the hunter one bit. What does, is that she is currently curled up into a ball, hiding in the far corner of the room like a scared little animal. Tears stream down her face, mixing with the blood on her cheeks, as she anxiously keeps an eye on the windows, breathing irregular and rapidly. “Zo? Easy, it’s okay now.” The hunter rushes over and kneels down next to his injured companion, takes off his backpack, then his leather coat and his denim jacket. The last one he folds into a ball and presses to the wound in order to staunch the bleeding. He needs to keep pressure, but he can tell she’s losing the battle with her anxiety. “Hey hey hey... Look at me, take a breath,” he tries, while attending the disturbing injury. “I’m right here.”

He takes the sleeves from the blood-stained jacket and uses them to tie the bundle of clothing to the wounds in order to have his hands free. Zoë doesn’t respond to his actions despite the pain it must inflict, the terrified young woman having other issues to deal with. Breathing for one, because she seems unable to fill her lungs with oxygen.

The hunter looks up from his work after tightening the knot. She’s restless, her chest heaving fast. Upset, she keeps searching for a possible other way for the bastards to get in. When one of the creatures outside howls like a wolf in the night, she almost jumps out of her skin and can’t help but to cry. He doesn’t need to be a psychologist to determine that she’s having a full-blown panic attack. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Zo,” Dean hushes, carefully laying one hand on her shoulder, the other on her knee. “It’s gonna be alright. They can’t get in.”

Frightened, she tries to find protection with him and Dean answers her by pulling her into his chest. She crawls closer to find shelter in his arms, a sob wrecking her. Her entire body is shaking, yet when he presses his cheek against her forehead, her skin feels clammy. Dean knows Zoë is anything but affectionate these days, so he’s stunned by this 180 degree flip compared to the fearless woman he ran into in Rochester two weeks back. These things really scare the fuck out of her. Dean never imagined that the huntress - an absolute force to be reckoned with - could turn into the fragile girl he is holding close right now. Yet here she is, quaking in his hold, struggling to breathe.

“You’re okay, easy breaths, alright?” he whispers into her hair. “I won’t let them get to you, I promise. You’re safe.” While waiting for the anxiety to pass, Dean keeps soothing her by running his hand up and down her back, trying his best to calm her down. Her entire body continues to tremble, but eventually her respiration becomes more even. After finally being able to take in a deep inhale, Zoë creates some distance between her and the hunter. Concerned, Dean dips his head to make eye contact, but she’s avoiding his gaze. “Don’t ever tell Sam this,” she chokes out, wiping her tears and runny nose with her sleeve. “He’ll laugh his ass off.”

Dean smiles; she’s back. He keeps her steady to make sure she has retaken control over her fear, when she flinches. Both direct their attention to her injury and Dean gets on his feet, only to crouch down by her extended leg again. He folds the soaked fabric away, revealing the damage. Through the denim of her jeans he can see the torn flesh and puncture holes, blood flowing from the wounds. Her combat boots prevented the creatures from crushing her ankle, so at least there’s that. He takes off his leather belt and carefully lifts her calf in order to slip the strap underneath.

“Y’know, I normally don’t remove my clothes on the first date,” he jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood. He earns a scoff and a glint of a grin. “Don’t think you’ve ever known a girl this long without taking your clothes off,” she responds, her voice still shaky. Corking his eyebrow, he shoots her a look with a smirk on his lips, wearing his mask well. Carefully, Dean pushes her torn jeans up a little so that he can work. “Nasty wound, Zo.” He makes a discontent sound with his mouth. “Nothing we can’t fix, though.” "Don't bother, it's no use,” she whimpers. “Haven’t you figured out what these things are?” “I have,” he says, remorseful to admit the truth. “Hellhounds.”

She swallows apprehensively and confirms with a nod. “What do you know about them?” “I know they are the gate watchers of Hell and that they collect souls who struck a deal with a demon,” Dean states. “Which gives you a fucking lot to explain.” Zoë blows out a breath, realizing she owes him that much. He just saved her life again, or at least postponed her expiration date. “What else do you know?” “Not much. Sam’s the nerd, remember?” he jokes. She smiles, only slightly, but Dean’s glad she is still able to. “Pull it,” Zoë orders, hinting at the belt.

For a brief moment he looks her in the eye, but then he tightens the leather strap just above the laceration. Although it hurts, she doesn’t make a noise. Pain she can handle. Hell; now that’s a whole different horror show. Once Dean has secured the improvised tourniquet, Zoë rests her head against the wooden wall behind her, still shaken by current events.

“This is useless,” she mutters. “I should just walk out and let them take me.” “Are you nuts? That’s suicid--” As Dean pronounces those words, he realizes that’s exactly what this is; suicide. She planned to give the hellhounds what they want, her soul. Suddenly their last conversation in Paragould makes perfect sense; she really didn’t expect to see him and his brother again. When she said ‘deadline’, she meant it in the true sense of the word. Zoë didn’t anticipate coming here and solving a case; she came here to die. The only reason why she moved to plan B was because he showed up at the final moment and was too stubborn to leave her side. Seeking shelter in this hideout would be the only way possible to grant his safety.

“That was your plan, wasn’t it? You were waiting for them to come and claim you,” he utters, stunned. She shrugs, careless. “A lot better than bleeding to death in here. I’m going to Hell anyway.” “Not if I can help it,” Dean says, determined.

He rises to his feet, pushing warm air from his lungs, which forms clouds in front of his face. A thin layer of ice is starting to form on the inside of the windows, obstructing the view. Staying still by Zoë’s side instead of running for his life has made him realize that they have another enemy to deal with; the cold. Now that the adrenaline isn’t pumping anymore, hypothermia is lurking around the corner. Combined with low blood pressure caused by blood loss, it can be a deadly cocktail. He needs to find a way for them to get warm.

Looking around the sober cabin, Dean clicks his tongue while going over his options. There’s barely any furniture, not even a dirty mattress. Only a wooden table and four chairs were left behind by the previous users, and a kitchenette in the corner remained as well. The hunter stalks over, opening the cupboard under the stove. The propane tank he finds will not provide them any heat; it has been empty for quite some time. Dean screws the valve closed again and curses under his breath. Then he glances at the fireplace on the other side of the room. He’s not sure if it’s smart to set it alight, because that shaft might actually be a way in for those fuckers if they aren’t careful.

“We can use it,” Zoë announces, understanding his thought process. “I mounted an iron pipeline filled with goofer dust around the chimney. They won’t be able to enter through there.” “Goofer dust?” Dean repeats, questioning. “It’s hoodoo,” she elaborates. “Keeps hellhounds at bay.”

Dean huffs, once again amazed by her knowledge and her ability to think five steps ahead. For someone who was so dead set on dying tonight, she sure did one hell of a job turning this place into a safehouse. About a million questions come to mind, but he holds back the interrogation for now. Everything at its time.

His eyes land on the remaining furniture, then flick to the wooden pillar that supports the roof, in the center of the space. A plan begins to form and he strides to the table, picks it up and places it on the side against the post, the tabletop facing the fireplace. Making quick work of gathering a few logs of birch and dry twigs that are stacked up against the wall, he takes out his zippo and begins to build a fire. Once the flames starts to lick at the bark, the inventive hunter gets on his feet again and turns back to his wounded hunting partner.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” he says, leveling with her. When he intends to slip his left arm behind her back and the other under her knees, she protests. “Dean, I can stand.” “Na-ah, you’re not putting any pressure on that leg.”

Zoë grunts objectively, but allows the man who she has had so many fights with in such a short period of time to lift her up, simply too tired to argue. The hunter carries her closer to the heat, setting her down gently against the turned over table, the countertop functioning as a backrest. Being only six feet away from the flames now, she can feel the warmth radiating towards her. The sensation is welcoming, because she feels frozen to the bone.

Not even taking a second to slow down, Dean goes to get the backpack he dumped on the floor earlier and brings it back to her. He rummages through it until he finds what he was looking for and takes out an extensive first aid kit, one of the ten essentials David packed for him.

“Dean, let it go already,” she objects when she realizes what he intends to do. Perplexed, the hunter stares at her. He can’t believe her careless attitude right now. “Do you wanna die?” he questions, then corrects himself. “No wait, let me rephrase that. Do you wanna go to Hell?” “According to AC/DC it ain’t a bad place to be,” she scoffs. Narrowed green eyes warn her as he tilts his head. “Don’t get smart with me.”

Dean clearly doesn’t find it funny, so she tiredly sighs and avoids his penetrating gaze. “If they drag me down the pit, their job is done and they’ll leave. The killings will stop,” Zoë explains, her voice gaining strength. “Until that time, they are heat seeking missiles, they will slaughter everything that comes on their path, even now that my deal came due. Innocent people like the Clevelands and those hunters got torn to pieces because I’m too fucking scared to face what I started. What if others come barging up this mountain? They’ll end up dead!” she brings to mind.

“David will take care of that. Now that he knows he’ll make sure that no one will,” Dean states, seemingly certain. But Zoë doesn’t agree. “For all he knows he’ll hike straight up this mountain first thing in the morning to pick up what those things left of his family. He knows nothing.” “He won’t, he’s smarter than that. I'm sure he will call Sam for help before he does anything stupid,” Dean defends him. “What about you, huh?” she inquires. “You won’t be able to leave this cabin as long as I’m alive, not without enduring what actually I should undergo. And if you stay, you will either starve or freeze to death. Is that what you want?” “We’ll figure something out,” the hunter returns, hopeful, his voice a lot calmer and softer than hers. “One problem at a time, okay? Let’s patch you up first.”

He picks up the disinfectant from the kit and cleans his hands first, but before he tips it over while pressing some cotton wool on the opening, Zoë stops him. “Is there any saline solution in there? Hydrogen peroxide is way too aggressive, it will only slow recovery.” “Sure? We use this all the time,” Dean replies, doubtful. Zoë glares at him; did he really just question a former med-student? “Well, then you’ve been doing it all wrong,” she scoffs. “Use the saline if you don’t wanna destroy the fibroblasts. The tissue is gonna need those cells to heal.”

Dean holds a gaze for a second longer before he gives in. Fine. After all, she’s the one who knows about this stuff. And so he does as told, takes a bottle of water from the backpack and mixes the saline like it says on the description manual. Once the solution is ready, the hunter carefully angles her leg so he can flush out the wounds. The fluid doesn’t sting, but the damaged skin is sensitive. Zoë lets her savior take care of her, despite that he’s being naive, stubborn, and won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. She has to give it to him, though; the guy has good intentions.

Once the damaged tissue is clean, Dean takes out the stitching wire. Zoë watches him pierce the suture needle through the skin with his hands instead of with the tweezers or a needle driver, gritting her teeth to bite down the pain. When he knots the first stitch too tight and intends to use continuous suturing, she can’t help to stop him. “What are you doing?” she comments with a tone. “Sit still and shut up. I’m fixing your leg,” he replies, annoyed. Zoë scoffs. “More like scarring it. Who taught you how to stitch?” “My dad did, and he never complained once whenever I had to sow him back together. I said: shut up,” he urges warningly. It remains silent for a few seconds, but before he starts on the next suture, Zoë stops him again. “Why don’t you use interrupted sutures?”

Dean sighs and lowers the needle. He knew it was going to be tough the moment he pulled the first aid kit out, remembering that he was about to treat a top of the class med student. He wasn’t wrong. “Do you want this stitched or not?” he returns snappy. “The suturing technique you’re using now is quick and effective, great for battlefield treatment like in Nam where your old man picked this up, but for better cosmetic results interrupted sutures are better,” she assures. “Cosmetic results?” he chuckles. “What? If I have to parade through Hell it probably won’t be in long jeans, so I might as well look good,” Zoë jokes smartly.

She bends forward without putting too much tension on the laceration and gestures for the needle driver. Dean hands it to her, after which she shows him how to properly hold it. Then she gives it back to him. “Look, if you keep the needle driver between your thumb and your ring finger, like this.” she takes his hand and positions the needle driver between his fingers, “and now put your index finger on top to control it, like using a pencil.”

Dean can’t help letting his gaze wander to her face for a moment, intrigued by the skill set of the young woman. She’s twenty-five years old and yet she carries so much knowledge with her. He knows a little about a lot of things, enough to survive, but Zoë is truly something else. No wonder she managed just fine on her own for four years.

Her fingers touching his, draw his thoughts back to what the huntress is trying to teach him. “- now insert the needle in a 90 degree angle. Try to get the suture loop as wide as it is deep,” she says, flinching. After she leads him through the first two stitches, Zoë leans back and leaves him to it, trying to stay still, despite the pain that comes with suturing without a local sedative.

She corrects him a couple of times more, her remarks falling from her lips in a bitter manner, yet Dean holds his tongue, not wanting to fight with her. It takes him about a half an hour before the laceration and puncture holes are properly closed up. He loosens the tourniquet, relieved to see that the stitches are holding. The hunter puts back what he used into the kit, then takes out a non-stick bandage.

“Put some antibiotic ointment on it first,” Zoë says, although it sounds more like an order. Deciding against snapping at her, Dean rummages through the plastic briefcase until he finds what he’s looking for. “I should probably wear gloves for this, right?” “You should’ve worn gloves all this time,” the huntress sneers. Dean rolls his eyes and bites the inside of his cheek, but even that can’t prevent him from countering the woman he’s treating. “I didn’t even touch the wound directly. Stop being such a fucking bitch. I’m only trying to help.”

Annoyed by her judgemental attitude, the man who’s giving her first aid puts on a pair of latex gloves, encloses the tube with his first and squirting the gel on his index finger. When Zoë fails to shoot him a snarky comeback, he looks up at her, finding fresh tears pooling in her eyes. Regretting his sharp tone instantly, he carefully begins to apply the substance. “I didn’t mean it like that.” “No, you’re right,” she says, a small tremor in her voice. “It’s just - I’m not used to people giving two shits about me anymore.” “Well, get used to it,” he returns, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly.

Dean gingerly dresses the injury, wrapping the bandage over a sterile wound patch. With a pair of scissors he cuts the gauze, taping the end secure. Then he sits back on his haunches and looks at his work proudly. “Not bad, huh?” She nods, approving. “Not bad at all.”

After elevating her feet on the now closed first aid kit, Zoë rests her head back against the wood. She can hear the guy who she’s cooped up with getting up and walking away a couple of steps, then the crackling of leather. She assumes he picked up his jacket from the corner.

The temperature in the cabin isn’t close to comfortable yet, and after having shed his denim overshirt to stop her from bleeding out, all he’s wearing is a henley. Dean shrugs on his warm coat, trying to shake off the cold, when he notices Zoë has her eyes closed. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me now.” Dean sits down next to her, their shoulders touching. “Are you cold?” He asks because she’s still shivering, but she shakes her head. “Not really, just numb. Tired,” she returns, her voice barely a whisper. “Shock?” Dean assumes, concern knitting his brows together.

With an unsteady hand she presses her second and third digit against the radial artery on her wrist; it’s rapid. She notices the pale skin complexion of her hands and breathing is still difficult, too. Besides those issues, there’s also her mental state; she’s all over the place. Zoë can diagnose herself just fine and confirms with a nod, still trembling in silence.

Worried, Dean studies her. He’s not an expert, but he knows her going into shock can be dangerous. At least the bleeding is under control and they have a heat source, but he has to keep her awake for now. The hunter straightens himself, pulling up his legs and resting his forearms on his knees, getting lost in the flames before him. They pop and rustle playfully, the sounds soothing, but unable to diminish the apprehension.

“I’m so fucked, Dean.”

The hunter breaks his eyes away from the fire and takes her in. The light in front of her catches the shimmering pathways that find a way down her cheeks. He wishes he could give her solace, but all he has are his words. “At least here we’re able to buy us some time. I know you turned over every stone, so did you find anything that gave even the slightest clue on how to kill these fuckers?” he offers. “I studied them for years, Dean, even before I decided to go on with it. Years. Why do you think I know so much? I tried every book, every spell, I worked all the mojo possible in that span of time. Nothing worked.” she states. Hopeless, she stares at her hands in her lap. Dean can see she’s telling the truth, she really pulled every string. “I’m usually not the one to give up, but this isn’t a battle I can win,” she claims. “Good thing you ain’t fighting it alone then,” Dean replies, nudging her softly. “We’ll figure something out, okay?”

Zoë nods, but more to give the man next to her the answer he wants, than because she actually believes in a positive outcome. She admires his optimism, envies it even. Her future is grim, no matter how you look at it, and Dean’s isn’t much better. He doesn’t deserve this, but then again, neither does she.

After all she has been through, she wanted to redeem herself, to do enough good to block out the bad. She tried to enjoy the little things in life ever since she made the deal. Ride one more wave at the beach, have a drink on the pier while watching a sunset, roll down the highway on her Harley. Over the last couple of months, she had a lot of moments in which she realized it was going to be her last. She thought she was at peace with her fate and the consequence of summoning a crossroad demon, until it was ten to midnight.

It doesn’t matter, though. Being okay with the decision or not doesn’t change the path she has chosen to walk. The only outcome is a one-way trip downstairs. It’s a matter of time before the hellhounds claim her soul. They will never stop, not until there is nothing left of her. Not even Dean Winchester can save her now.

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part seven here

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Dean x OFC #Sam x OFC #Dean angst #Sam angst #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Supernatural #SPN #Supernatural series #STSS #Black Dog #1x03 Black Dog #Zoë Sullivan #Kate Huntington

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mercurryblack · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 11: Cait (Part 2)

You ever get the feeling that something just isn't right?

Good. It’s not.

❃❃❃

“Man… it’s already midnight.” Cait said, checking their Scroll. “Are we sure there’s anything here?”

The four of them stood in the atrium of the dilapidated apartment block. Cobwebs smeared each corner and laced the demolished reception desk, the carpeted floor smothered in a thick layer of dust. The wooden door lay lopsided off its hinges, and large chunks of the wall had been completely broken out, letting in a chill breeze from the outside. Aside from the flashlights that Yuen and Sardion held, only a few slivers of moonlight illuminated the room, the electric lights having ceased working long ago.

“We only just got here, kid,” Sardion said, raising an eyebrow as he fanned a piece of cobweb from his hand. “You did say you were up for this, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, I’d just rather not have Professor Rook bawl me out for a late paper because I went on a wild goose chase.” Cait replied, scratching their brow.

“I’m sure that won’t happen,” Hattie said. “Professor Lionheart gave us the go-ahead for this case already, so I’m pretty sure that also covers any homework due.”

She paused, thinking to herself for a second. “Wait, was that why you were acting so jittery on the airship?”

“Not exactly.” Cait said, trying to avoid Hattie’s question.

“…Wait.” Yuen, having gone on ahead of them, had stopped in her tracks and was pointing just in front of where she stood. “Look right there.”

Cait, Hattie, and Sardion looked to where she was pointing. Leading up to the stairwell were faint footprints in the coating of dust on the carpet — freshly made.

“Huh. Ask and you shall receive…” Sardion mused under his breath, drawing his weapon, a handgun with a short blade attachment he had christened Joyeuse. “You think we’re not alone, Detective?”

“I don’t know yet.” Yuen replied. “Just do as I said back outside and keep your heads up.”

A few minutes later, the four of them had made their way five stories to the top floor and reached the end of the trail— the center of an outdoor patio. The railing around the edge was unfinished and broken, and what appeared to be a shallow rooftop pool was drained and coated with moss and mold. A fog cloud that was thick as gravy had begun to ominously drift across the rooftop just as they had exited the stairwell, obscuring most of their vision.

“Hey, are there any murderers up here?!” Hattie called out, attempting to wave some of the fog away with her free hand. “Yoo-hoo, anybody home?”

The other three gave her an odd look.

“…What exactly are you doing, Hattie?” Cait asked.

“I can’t see a thing up here!” Hattie said. “Maybe if I get their attention, they’ll just come out and spare us all the trouble.”

Cait groaned. “You think that perhaps they’ll be more trouble if they put up a fight?!”

“No biggie!” Hattie said with a shrug. “Sardion’s got a gun, Agave’s got a shotgun, you have your flails that… aren’t guns, and I’m packing a submachine gun that turns into a buzzsaw.”

“Gee, I feel safer already.” Cait said.

“I know, right?!” Hattie said, missing the sarcasm in Cait’s tone. “You’ve got nothing to worry about!”

“Enough,” Yuen interjected. “Back to business… this was the only way the trail led. If anyone’s here, then this is the only place that they could be—”

“Pussycat, pussycat… where have you been?” a voice echoed from within the veil of fog.

Yuen jolted, whipping around. Hattie jumped up with a yelp.

Cait did not utter a sound, but instead immediately froze in place.

“Who’s there?!” Sardion shouted as he raised Joyeuse, its barrel pointed into the thickest part of the fog bank ahead of them.

“I spy, with my little eye, a scaredy-cat who wants to cry…” another voice crooned.

“Cait?” Hattie asked, noticing her partner’s petrified look. “Cait, what’s going on with you?” She asked urgently, shaking them slightly by the arm.

“I—I— I know that voice…” Cait whispered to Hattie, suddenly turning to face her. “We need to get out of here.”

“What do you mean, ‘you know that voice’…?” Hattie said. “Sardion? Detective? I—”

“I’ll burn and cripple you…” the first voice echoed.

Sardion squinted, keeping his weapon levelled as he tried to see where the voices were coming from.

“I’ll slash and hack you…” sang the second voice.

Yuen took in a shaky breath, holding her shotgun steady, a bead of sweat rolling down her brow.

“I’ll rip and tear you to bloody ribbons and scatter you to the four winds…” the voices chanted in unison.

Hattie clutched Cait’s arm in a one-handed death grasp, her eyes darting wildly as she gripped her weapon - fixed in its submachine gun form - in her other hand.

A sudden gust of wind struck them head-on, and the fog parted along with it.

Just ahead of them stood two women — one in a black-and-violet suit, the other wearing what appeared to be a cloak of feathers, their metallic surfaces shimmering in the light of the shattered moon.

The suited woman gave them a smile devoid of warmth, her scarred lips parting to reveal a set of ceramic teeth. “There you are, Cait… now, be good and come over here. It’s time for you to go home.”

Cait didn’t respond.

“Who the hell are you two?” Sardion demanded, now aiming Joyeuse at the woman in the suit. “What do you want from us?”

“Oh, not that much, really,” the suited woman said. “We just want our little one back, so if you don’t put up a fight, we’ll try and make your deaths quick.” She chuckled darkly. “As for who we are… well, I’m sure you can deliver the introductions, won’t you though, Cait?”

“…How did you find me?” Cait hissed.

“Oh, come on. Is that how you greet your big sisters?” the woman with the metal-feather cloak said. “We haven’t seen each other for… it must be three years now?”

“You’re not my sisters. You never were, Nest,” Cait snarled. “Same goes for you, Moira.”

“Wait— sisters?” a wide-eyed Hattie asked.

“You couldn’t even pretend you missed us a little bit?” Moira asked, ignoring Hattie’s question. “We’d just about given up on our efforts to find you. If you hadn’t ran off like you did, we wouldn’t even need to have this conversation.”

“Cait, who are these people?” Hattie asked again, trying to get her partner’s attention to no avail.

Nest nodded to Sardion. “If you’d stayed, you could have helped us kill his teammates… aw, what were their names again? Yuzuki and Berto?”

“Yaara… and Berilo.” Sardion uttered, momentarily stunned by the woman’s revelation.

“You— you’re the ones that killed them?” Yuen asked tentatively.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing personal,” Nest said with a shrug. “They were just a couple of loose ends, like you are now.”

The feeling of shock and shred of fear in Sardion’s heart burned away, consumed by a rapidly kindling rage. “You… fucking… animals…”

“Oh, there we go.” Moira said. “Now that we’re all acquainted, why don’t we just get this over with? We’re on the clock.”

Sardion wordlessly released the safety on his weapon with a snap, and the Lightning Dust crystal embedded in the slide’s side glowed to life.

“No, wait, don’t shoot—!” Cait shouted, but they were too late.

Sardion fired, a single shot directly at Moira’s forehead. The muzzle of Joyeuse burst with a sound like a thunderclap, a bolt of lightning encasing a single tungsten bullet as it erupted from the barrel.

The bullet was a foot away from Moira’s head when it came to a complete stop. From the point of impact, a shattering effect appeared in the air itself, as if a giant pane of glass had halted the projectile.

“Nice try,” she smirked, as the shatter marks faded and the bullet dropped to the ground.

“What the hell was that?” Sardion breathed.

“I tried to tell you!” Cait said. “Her Semblance lets her create invisible barriers— nothing can get through them, even Dust!”

“Aw, don’t ruin the surprise.” Nest said, unfolding her wings from around her. “Let the big strong champion figure it out for himself. Hope he hasn’t been resting on his laurels… I want to have some fun before we leave.”

“Doesn’t seem like you have a barrier.” Yuen said, raising her shotgun at Nest.

“Nope.” Nest said. “I got these, though.”

She flicked the tip of her left wing, and a feather-shaped blade shot out in a flash of steel, slashing deep across Yuen’s leg in the blink of an eye.

“AAGH!” Yuen cried, sprawling, her shotgun clattering out of her grip.

“Detective—!” Hattie shouted, losing her focus.

“Damn, missed.” Nest said with a laugh. ““Didn’t see that one coming, did you? You’re next, bluey.” With a shrill grind of metal against metal, she dove for Hattie, seizing her by the collar and taking flight off of the roof.

She made it all of three feet away from the roof before she suddenly was yanked to one side, her leg caught by something. Looking down, she saw the head of a flail wrapped around her ankle, Cait holding on to the other end for dear life.

“You interfering little— get off of me!” Nest yelled.

“You’re not getting away with her!” Cait yelled back.

“You great big stupid buzzard…!” With her opponent’s attention on Cait, Hattie seized the opportunity to bash Nest square in the head with the butt of her gun. “Lemme go!”

Dazed by the strike, Nest fumbled and crashed on a lower rooftop, losing her grip on Hattie, who landed in a roll. Cait landed on their side, coughing as they kicked up dirt and dust.

“Fine.” Nest spat, pulling herself up. “Hard way it is, then.”

“C’mon.” Hattie said, helping Cait to their feet. “You ready for this?”

“We don’t have a choice.” Cait replied shakily. “Just stay alive.”

***

Sardion fired several more times at Moira as she advanced on him, but each and every bullet merely stopped short of hitting her, caught by the barrier in front of her.

“Look at you, thinking you’re so heroic.” Moira spat. “Where were you on the night my sister and I were tearing apart your dear old friends, big man? Where are you going to be when my sister tears that little girl limb from limb? Why didn’t you save any of them? You were a Vytal Champion, a paragon of a Huntsman, Sardion Sarikaya… so why are your teammates dead?”

“SHUT UP!” Sardion roared, blood pounding louder in his ears as his anger grew hotter.

“What was your Semblance… superhuman futility?” Moira’s smile widened, her tongue flicking in serpentine anticipation. “Don’t you think it’s past time to join them? A little reunion would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“SHUT UP!” Sardion fired once more at her, the bullet freezing without landing. Again, cracks appeared in the air where the bullet had struck.

“That’s starting to get really annoying.” he growled.

“Oh, how rude of me.” Moira said. “Let’s finish this up, then.”

Sardion didn’t respond, only pulling the trigger again, futilely hoping that the next shot would make its mark.

Click.

He managed a glance at his weapon— not only was he out of ammunition, but the Lightning Dust crystal had been depleted. “Damn!” he cursed.

“Oh, I know that sound… got you!” Moira exclaimed, leaping into a lunge. Her prosthetic tongue shot out of her mouth as she closed the distance to Sardion, and before he had time to properly react, it had snared around his upper arm. Polymer barbs dug into his jacket, and she landed with her shins into his torso, knocking him to the ground.

“Guh-huhff-get the hell off of me!” He made to cut her away with the short blade on Joyeuse’s underbarrel, but she lashed out and seized him by the wrists, pinning his arms down with great effort.

“Uh-uh-uh, thon’t thrath about like that.” Moira lisped, her mouth still open. “Thith ith the good th’part.” With a hiss, she activated the artificial glands in her mouth, and acid erupted from the barbs on her tongue.

The fluid burnt through both Sardion’s jacket and his Aura in a split second before sinking into his skin, making its way through his flesh and bone alike.

Sardion wasn’t sure how he responded in that moment, but he wouldn’t have blamed himself if he had recalled screaming. The pain was like a thousand red-hot needles being driven into his shoulder, worse than any other he had ever felt in his life.

“Th’ere.” Moira leered over him, her sadistic smile growing wider as she strained to hold his arms back. “Ju’th th’give up a—”

BLAM.

A heavyweight slug nailed Moira square in the back. Her Aura flared for a moment, barely stopping them from breaking her skin. With a hiss of pain, Moira tore her attention from Sardion to see who had shot her. Her grip on Sardion went slack, her tongue unraveling itself from his shoulder as it retracted back into her mouth.

“Sardion!”

Leaning down in the pool basin behind the assassin, Yuen lowered her shotgun, her other hand pressed to her leg wound. “Finish it!” she shouted over her shoulder, wincing with exertion. Blood trickled out from between her fingers.

Moira turned back just in time to see Sardion levelling his weapon directly at her head.

“Go ahead.” she sneered. “I’ve still got enough Aura to take another bullet. Call it a parting gift for effort.”

“You wanted to know *hkk* what my Semblance was?” Sardion gasped through the pain. “Whatever I’m touching… can permeate anything.”

He pulled the trigger of Joyeuse. No bullet came from the muzzle, though— instead, the barrel of the gun snapped apart and folded into a guard, and the underbarrel blade extended into one of a full longsword.

The blade itself went directly through Moira’s barrier, through her forehead and out the back of her skull.

“Unkk--!”

Letting go of his weapon’s hilt, Sardion shoved her corpse off of himself and quickly shifted away. Acid began to leak from the corner of her mouth onto the ground, frothing and hissing as it melted through the concrete.

With no small amount of effort, he craned his neck to face Moira one more time, looking into her clouded and glazed eyes, half her visage now slick with blood as it leaked from around the still-embedded sword blade.

“That was…” he growled, “for my teammates.”

***

BLAM.

“Wha—?” Nest looked over her shoulder, caught off guard by the sound of the shotgun fire. “Don’t tell me the detective’s still kicking…”

“You should know never to take your eyes off your opponent!” Hattie yelled at her assailant, firing a burst of three bullets at her.

“And you should know better than to think you’ve got a chance, lolita.” Nest taunted, raising a metal to block the girl’s spray of bullets.

“Hattie, don’t drag this out!” Cait called, as they swung Entwined Catenary at Nest, who ducked the blow. “Come on, Nest, I’m the one that you want!”

“Don’t give up, Cait!” Hattie shouted. “We can beat her if we work together!”

“No, we can’t!” Cait shouted back. “The only reason we’ve lasted this long is because she’s just toying with us!”

“Listen to your friend there, girl.” Nest chuckled darkly, blocking another spray of bullets. “Honestly, of all the things, I would have never figured you for a Huntsman. You always gave in too easy, after all… you never stood by your own blood.”

“You’re not my blood.” Cait retorted. “And I made my choice. I’m not going back.”

Nest scoffed. “You brought this on yourself, you know. You just couldn’t do as you were told, just had to go your own way. If you’d stuck by your sisters, we could’ve really made something out of you.”

“What, turn me into a murderer like you?” Cait spat back, trying to land another strike with Entwined Catenary. “You’re insane.”

“Aw, I’m a murderer!” Nest laughed, knocking the head of Cait’s flail away with one wing. “I'm so happy you’ve been paying attention! I suppose now you’ll start crying when I rip apart your partner here, huh? Look how soft these “friends” of yours made you.”

“No.” Cait snarled. “There’s no way you’re hurting her.”

“Well, there’s the problem. I am gonna kill someone tonight, and it can’t be you.” Nest said. “News flash, Cait. You can go ahead and run away from your birthright as many times as you like, but it’s always gonna catch up to you. And when it does, it’ll destroy everything that’s standing in the way.”

Cait’s eyes narrowed, their Aura flickering around their hand. “Yeah, well… if I can’t outrun it, then I’ll kill it.”

Their Aura shimmered for a moment, an emerald pattern across their entire form as their eyes began to glow with an unearthly light.

“Cute. But too slow.” Nest bared her teeth, spreading her wings to their full span. “See if you can’t outrun this, either.”

Cait’s flare of Aura fizzled out the second they saw Nest’s stance.

“HATTIE, GET DOWN!” they shouted.

Just as Hattie threw herself to the ground, Nest launched into the air in a spinning fusillade of feather blades, the tips of her wings erupting as she ascended.

Part of the spray struck Cait head-on, knocking them over the edge of the roof. They hit the ground hard, feeling the wind being knocked out of them. Gasping for air and dizzy with pain, they looked up to see Hattie hop down from the roof and onto a moulded overhang, lowering herself to the ground and running over to them.

“No…” she gasped. “Cait, you have to get up, please…” Before she could help them to their feet, Nest landed a few meters away.

“Shit, don’t tell me I killed them.” Nest said, feigning concern. “You still kicking, kitty-cat?”

Cait loudly wheezed in a breath, drawing air back into their lungs.

“Phew.” Nest sighed, before turning to Hattie. “I guess it’s just you and me now.”

“Hattie…” Cait groaned. “Run…”

Every inch of her body quaking in terror, Hattie stood her ground, standing over Cait as she raised her weapon at Nest.

Nest grinned. “Good girl.” Before she could attack, though, a loud crash from the side caught all their attentions, something having fallen off the apartment’s roof above them.

“That yours, Moira?” she called out to the roof as she turned. “Don’t startle me like—” The color drained from her face as she laid eyes upon Moira’s body lying in the rubble, and she lost all interest in Cait and Hattie.

“NO!!” she screamed, her eyes wide with shock. “How… how…”

“Didn’t see that one coming… did you?” Cait coughed, repeating Nest’s words as they pulled themself onto one elbow.

“You… have no idea what you’ve… YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!” Nest screamed once more, clutching Moira’s body close as she once again took flight— this time, however, away from the two students and the apartment.

“That’s right, you PUSSY! RUN!” Cait shouted after Nest as she fled, their voice nearly cracking with strain as her silhouette disappeared into the night sky. “AND YOU CAN TELL DAD I’M NEVER GOING BACK, EVER!” They tried to rise to their feet but fell to their knees, the rush of adrenaline fading to be replaced by exhaustion.

“Cait…” Hattie said, kneeling down beside them. “Y- you’re— you’re bleeding!”

Cait winced as she laid a hand on their shoulder. Several of the wing-blades had penetrated their Aura and resulted in shallow cuts, while the fall they had taken felt like it had broken a couple of their ribs.

“Yeah, I’m kinda feeling it now.” they said half-jokingly. “I’ll live, though.”

Hattie didn’t respond.

“Hattie…?” Looking up, Cait noticed that tears were beginning to stream through the grime on her face. “Hey, hey… why’re you crying?”

“I should’ve been able to protect you, Cait.” Hattie choked, her voice weakened. “I told you not to worry, but… I couldn’t do anything against her.”

Cait shook their head. “No. Don’t blame yourself, Hattie, you could have been— she was going to kill you. You should have run… why didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t going to leave you behind.” Hattie sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her glove. “You’re my partner. And you’re still hurt.”

“I’m gonna be fine, it’s nothing too bad,” Cait reassured her, placing a hand on her back. “I just hope the guys upstairs are better off. I don’t want to have to be the one who’s gotta fly the sailship out of this dump.”

***

“Well… I guess *h-huuuhh* that’s a lead after all…” Sardion murmured to himself, his voice thready and weak.

Gingerly clutching her leg, Yuen poked her head over the rim of the empty pool, where the two had taken emergency cover from Nest. “Hey, Sardion, stay awake. Stay with me, I can still get you help.” she said, her tone hurried with concern. “There’s a med kit on the ship, we just need to make it that far. I’ll get the kids, just stay here—”

“Ahh… *huuuhh*… it’s nothing. Hurts pretty bad… but worst comes to worst… *nnnuuuhh*… I’ll just have to learn to make do with ol’ righty… heh.” Sardion replied, managing a pained grin.

“This isn’t the time to joke.” Yuen said urgently, removing her jacket before tearing it into a makeshift tourniquet. “That arm’s barely attached, and you’re bleeding like a stuck Boarbatusk. You need serious medical attention, and fast.”

“Well, you did say… *huuuhh*… I should stay optimistic.” Sardion said. “And here I am… being optimistic.”

#team llac #team llac fic #cait miya #team sybr #sardion sarikaya #harriet lazuli #agave yuen #moira redoul #nest nerium #fanfic #fan fiction #rwby fan fiction #rwby oc #rwbyoc #rwby

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layce2015 · 4 years ago

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The Last of Us Part 2 (Joel Miller x Reader)

What If I Followed The Game's Story (Joel's Death) pt. 1

(A/N: So I thought about doing some alternate chapters and in this one is gonna be if I had followed the story of the game, which means this Chapter will be (y/n)'s reaction to the death of Joel. Now, of course, this is NOT part of my story. This is just a what if scenario. I know this one won't be fun as people are still upset about Joel's death, I am too, but I just want to give you guys how I would've done this if I had followed the story of the game. So, here's what would've happened if I followed the game's story.)

As the trio gallop through the storm, more infected started coming at them from all other directions. Abby pulls out her gun and fires while Tommy and Joel steer their horses towards the upcoming gate and make their way through, as a group of people held it open. Abby's people closed the gate and a few started firing at the infected.

"Save your bullets!" One person shouted and a couple of guys throws some molotov at the gate, burning the group of infected to death. "Let's get inside!" A young sandy blonde man, Owen, said and the group starts to head back inside the mansion as Abby, Joel and Tommy dismount their horses.

They follow her friends and make it inside of the garage. Minutes later, the door closes and one of Abby's people turns to Joel and Tommy. "How you guys doin'?" She asked. "We're good. Thanks." Tommy said to her. "Yeah." Joel said as he glances around at everyone, trying to see if they give off any warning signals.

Both him and Tommy noticed that they had patches on their jackets. It was a head of a black wolf with the words Washington Liberation Front, or WLF as it said on the arms of the jacket.

Meanwhile, Owen goes over to Abby and whispers. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" She nods and the two go into the other room as another woman, Nora, comes up to Joel and Tommy. "You wanna get those saddles off?" She asked them. "No, no. It's alright. We'll just ride out the storm and get out of your hair." Joel assures her.

"Y'all got any brushes or a towel or anything?" Tommy asked her and she nods as she goes to get some stuff

"You are nothing but lucky." Owen mutters to Abby once they were in the other room. "You have no idea." She said to him as everyone started walking into the room. "How did y'all get electricity in here?" Tommy asked the group, curiously. "There are solar panels on the roof." Another man, Manny, replied.

"Where the fuck have you been? Who are these people?" Owen asked Abby, angrily, just as Tommy and Joel walk into the room. "How long have y'all been here?" Tommy asked the others. "Since yesterday." Manny replied. "Yesterday." Joel said, a bit of suspicion in his voice. "Yep." Manny said.

"What are y'all doing out this way?" Joel asked. "Oh, just passing through. You two live nearby?" A dark haired man asked. "We do. A few hours down the hill. Y'all should come back with us. Restock before you head out." Tommy said to them. "Appreciate it. I'm Mel." A woman, with short dark hair, introduced as she shakes Tommy's hand.

"Tommy. This is my brother." Tommy said as he points at Joel. "Joel." He introduced and in that moment everyone in the group stare at him, almost like they recognized him. This starts to set off alarm bells in Joel's head.

"Y'all act like you've heard of us or something." He said as he looks at everyone. "That's cause they have." Abby said and before Joel could turn around and do something, Abby pulls out her shotgun and shoots Joel's kneecap. He falls over as Tommy yells. "NO!"

He goes and punches the guy near him but another guy grabs one of his arm and the guy he just punched grabs his other arm and the two men hold him down. Nora comes up and pistol whips Tommy a few times in the face until he was unconscious.

"Nora? Clear?" One guy asked as Tommy's body flops down, unconcious while Joel was on his side, holding his leg in pain. "He's out." Nora tells them as Joel let's out a groan of pain. "Put him against the wall." Abby demands her people, gesturing at Joel. "Tommy." Joel calls out, painfully, as a couple of members of the group grab Joel by his arms.

"Get off me! Get off me!" Joel yells at them as they pick him up and push him against the wall and hold him. Abby kneels down to him, glaring at him with such hate.

"Joel Miller..." she said and he looks up at her, shocked that she knew his name.

"Who are you?" He asked her, angrily.

"Guess." She spat at him. He looks at her then at her friends, trying to think of who could they be, but nothing. He takes a deep breath then glares at Abby, defiant. "Why don't you say whatever speech you got rehearsed and get this over with." He growls at her.

Abby, upset that he doesn't know who she is, huffs out a breath then stands up. "Tourniquet his leg." She orders and Mel grabs a belt then goes over to Joel and wraps the belt tight around his leg, preventing him from bleeding out. "Ah, damn it...." Joel growls as Mel tourniquets his leg and Abby goes to grab a golf club.

Mel finished then she moved away as Joel looks up at Abby, who goes to stand in front of him. "You stupid old man..." she growls as she holds up the golf club and Joel keeps taking deep breathes, waiting for the worst this woman will bring him. "You don't get to rush this." Abby said and she raises the club and swings it at Joel's head.

"JOEL! TOMMY!" Ellie calls out into the blizzard as Shimmer gallops through the wind and snow. Moments later, Ellie comes up to the cabin and she sighs with relief. "There it is." She said and she dismounts Shimmer and makes her way down into the cabin.

"Joel? Tommy?" She calls out once she makes it inside. Then she heard cries and screams of pain. "Oh no." Ellie whispers, fearfully, and she makes her way down to the basement.

She opens the door and sees the horrifying scene before her. Joel was laying on the ground, his head beaten in and his hair matted with blood, and Abby standing before him with a golf club raised.

Ellie's eyes widen in shock then she opens the door wider and aims her gun but one guy, Jordan, sees her and jumps into action. He grabs her arm and tries to knock her down but she fights back. She pulls out her switchblade and slices at the Jordan's face when Nora and another guy jumps on Ellie and shoves her down. "Pin her down!" Nora said, firmly.

"Get off me!" Ellie yells. "Get her hands." Nora said and the guy grabs Ellie's hands and ties them up behind her back. "Get the fuck off of me!" Ellie growls. "Bitch." Jordan yells and he goes to kick her a few times.

"Look, you got her. Okay?" Another member said to Jordan as he pushes him back. Ellie coughs and looks at Joel to see the horrible state he was in then she glares up at Abby. "You're gonna fuckin' die!" She screams as Owen comes into the room.

"What's going on?" He asked. "Let him go!" Ellie demands but Owen looks over at Abby. "Who is that?" He asked. "Let him go!" Ellie yelled again. "She snuck in..." Nora said and Owen looks at Ellie then at Nora. "Why aren't you posted up outside?" He asked her. "We didn't think anyone was gonna show up." Nora said. "The hell did you expect!" Owen shouts at her.

He looks at Ellie then at Tommy before he turns to Abby. "We gotta get outta here before the whole town's on top of us." Owen said to the others. "You know what I want. And I still have to find his wife!" Abby said to him, through clenched teeth, and Ellie's eyes widen a bit at this.

Shit, she's talking about (y/n)! No! Ellie thought, panicked.

Owen leans closer to her and says, in a commanding voice. "I know but you need to end this before someone else comes. Now." He walks away and Abby looks back down at Joel. "Joel, get up." Ellie pleads. "Joel fucking get up!" She yells as Joel opens his eyes and looks right at Ellie.

Even with his head caved in, a million thoughts were going through his mind as he stares at her. Many things he wanted to say to her, and even more to say so she could pass on the message to (y/n), to have her tell his wife that he loves her and his sons and he was sorry for not coming home. But nothing would come out, he really couldn't make his mouth move. All he could do was stare at Ellie.

Ellie heaves then looks back at Abby. "Please stop! Please don't do this!" She begs as Abby stands over Joel. "Joel, please get up!" Ellie pleads one more time before Abby raises the club and brings down the final blow to Joel's head, killing him.

"NOOO!!" Ellie screams and she begins to cry. She glares up at Abby and her friends telling them that she would kill them all while there was a ringing in her ears as Manny walks up to Joel and spits on his body.

She couldn't believe what just happened.

Joel was gone...killed right in front of her. Fuck, how was (y/n) gonna take this? How were Aiden and Ethan gonna take this? Many things rushed through her head before Jordan walks over to Ellie and kicks her in the face, knocking her out.

*(y/n)'s POV*

"JOEL? TOMMY?" I yelled as I galloped through the snow, still looking for the two men. Then I make it to this cabin where I see a few horses near the cliff. I recognized them as being Dina's, Jesse's and Ellie's horses, so I made my way down to the cabin and inside of it. I pull out my pistol, just in case, and made my way down the stairs.

Then I could hear voices nearby. "Jesse! They're down here!" I hear Dina's voice shout and I make my way to the kitchen area and see Dina and Jesse talking. "Are you shitting me?" Jesse asked her and Dina, her face full of sorrow, shook her head.

"Fuck, how are we gonna tell (y/n)?" Jesse asked her and my heart stopped. "Tell me what?" I asked and both of them jumped and turned to me. "(Y/n)! I..uh..." Jesse stammers and then I start to get really worried. "Kids....what happened?" I asked, my voice shaking.

Jesse has this look of fear as if he doesn't know what to say and Dina looked beyond terrified. "(Y/n)...I'm...I'm so sorry." She said and I look between them, fearfully. Dina then gestured toward the basement door with her eyes and I make my way, slowly, down the stairs.

My heart was pounding in my chest and I felt like I had a huge lump in my throat as I try to prepare myself for the worst case scenario. I walk into the room and see Ellie and Tommy kneeling over something.

The last step creaked under my feet and Tommy turns to me, tears running down his face. I look over and, on the ground, see a body laying down, wearing familiar clothing. "(Y/n), don't...." Tommy start to tell me as I got closer and Ellie turns to me, her nose and mouth were bleeding which was mixed with her tears.

As she turned, I saw a head with graying black hair and blood caked into the hair. "Tommy...who is that?" I asked, my voice shaking, as I walk up closer but Tommy grabs me and tries to hold me back.

"Tommy, who is that?! Who is that?! Tommy! TELL ME THAT'S NOT WHO I THINK IT IS!!" I shouted, frantically, as I fight against his hold and Ellie gives me a look of fear. "I'm sorry." She said, tearfully, and she steps aside and at that moment, I felt my world crash down once I saw it.

Joel's head was bashed in, his blood splattered everywhere. A piece of his ear was missing and his face was so beaten in, he was almost unrecognizable.

The air left my lungs and I go limp as I fall to my knees, continuing to stare at Joel's body. "Joel?" I whispered and I crawl towards him. "(Y/n)..." Tommy said but I ignore him as I go up to Joel then slowly turn him over his back.

"Joel? Joel, please wake up." I said. Even though I know he's no longer there, a part of me didn't want to believe that he was gone. "Please, please wake up." I plead as tears start to form in my eyes and I shake his shoulder. "Come on, you fuckin' bastard! Wake up! Joel, please! Don't do this to me!" I cried, angrily, but he doesn't move or speak and reality hit me, like trainwreck, as I began to cry.

I bury my head in his chest, not caring if I got blood on me, and began to cry. "You said you wouldn't leave me." I said in between tears, softly. "You promised me!" I cried and I felt someone's hands on my shoulder.

"(Y/n)..." I hear Tommy's voice say as he tried to pull me away but I shove him off. "No...leave me..." I cried, softly. I don't know how or when but I was pulled away from Joel's body. I don't even remember who did, probably Ellie and Dina since I vaguely remember Jesse and Tommy had to pick up Joel's body and put it in this tarp Jesse and Dina found.

I just felt like I was in a daze through the whole ride back home. I felt like a part of me was gone and I'm just a shell of my former self. I could see people talking to me but I couldn't hear their voices cause all I could think about was one thing.

Joel Miller...

My husband...

My partner...

My best friend...

The father of my children...

The love of my life...

He's gone. I was never going to see him again.

How the fuck am I gonna tell our sons that their Daddy is gone forever?!

(A/N: So I'm gonna do a bit of a skip. This next part will take place about a week later, they've already buried Joel and (y/n) has been locked up in her room. Aiden and Ethan have been staying with Tommy and Maria. Tommy and Ellie's talk about what their plan is about the same as it was in the original game just that (y/n) wasn't there since she couldn't say anything. (Y/n) did tell the boys about Joel but all she said was Daddy's not coming back.

I'm sorry if I'm rushing this but I just kinda want to get through this. So this part, Ellie has come over and (y/n) let's her in the house and the two talk.)

I go and open the front door and see Ellie and Dina there, both of them looking sad. "Hey..." I greeted, softly. "Hey...can we come in?" Ellie asked me and I nod then opened the door wider for them.

They walked inside and both of them look around and I could tell Ellie had something on her mind. "Ellie, can we talk?" I asked her and she nods before I turn to Dina. "I'm gonna steal her away for a few moments, that okay?" I said, trying to sound light-hearted. "Yeah, sure. I'm sure you guys have alot to talk about." Dina said and I nod then gesture for the stairs.

"I have something that I want to give you." I said and I walk into mine and Joel's room....I guess I have to call it my room now, and pick up a box that had some of Joel's things. I make my way back out to the walkway and see Ellie looking at some of the pictures we had.

I got stand next to her and see her looking at that old photo of me, Joel and Sarah. I frown at it and gave a silent prayer that wherever they were I hope Joel and Sarah found each other.

"You know...I've always wondered...how did you and Joel meet?" Ellie asked me as she looks up at me. "I mean, I know you guys mentioned you met through your old job but like..." she stops as I stare at the picture. "I'm sorry, I don't want to upset you some more..." Ellie said and I shake my head as I smirk a bit.

"No, it's okay, Ellie. Um...actually...it's a pretty funny story..." I said, smiling a bit, and I began to tell her how Joel and I met.

(A/N: If you wanna know what that flashback is and you haven't read it yet. Here is this link that will take you to the story: How Joel and (y/n) met)

"After that, he and Sarah would come back to the coffee shop almost every day. I would talk to them and get to know them better." I said to Ellie as she listens, intently. "A few months after all the talking and flirting...Joel asked me out." I stopped and let out a heavy sigh as Ellie gives me a sad look.

She places a hand on my shoulder and I place my hand over hers. "I'm going after her, (y/n)." Ellie said and I look over at her. "I want to come..." I said but Ellie shakes her head. "I don't want Ethan and Aiden to lose more than they've already have." She said and I bite my lips, tears building up in my eyes, thinking it over and realized that she's right.

"You're right. They need me now more than ever." I said and I let out another sigh and placed my hands over my face.

"Ellie? (Y/n)? Can you guys come down here!" I hear Dina call out. "Everything okay?" Ellie asked her. "Yeah it's just....can both of you come on down." She calls out. Ellie and I exchange a look before we walk out of the room and head down stairs.

Once we make our way downstairs, we see Dina sitting in the dining area with Maria who had a piece of paper in her hands. From the look on her face, she was not happy. She clears her throat and starts to read from the paper.

"Maria, I'm headed to Seattle. I can't let it go. I have to make these people pay. Ellie is gonna try to come after me but stop her, maybe stop (y/n) too. Take their guns. Lock up the horses. Maybe lock them up. Buy me some time so I can finish this. Love you always, Tommy." She reads then looks over at us.

"He's going to get himself killed." Maria growls. "He should've taken me with him." Ellie growled. "You should've given us a group to go after those fuckers!" Ellie yells at her. "I wish I could." Maria said, firmly.

"So what now, Maria? You gonna lock Ellie up? Or me? Cause I'll tell you now that I'm staying here...for my sons." I asked her. "I prefer that Ellie should stay--" Maria started to say but Ellie talks over her. "That's not going to fuckin' happen!" She yells. "I prefer you stay but I know you better." Maria said then she turns to Dina.

"Are you going with her?" She asked and Dina looks up at her. "Yeah." She said, her arms folded across her chest. Then Maria turns to me and Ellie. "So are you just gonna sneak outta here?" She asked us and she begins to pace. "Yeah." Ellie said and her and Maria stare at each other before she sighs and looks down. "I told the stables to let you out with your horse. Grab some ammo too." She said and Ellie nods. "Thank you, Maria." Ellie said, appreciatevly.

"Just do me a favor and bring my dumbass husband home in one piece, please." She said to Ellie and I could see the pleas in her eyes. "Of course." Ellie said. "All right. Get going, you're losing light." She said and she walks out of my home.

Ellie and I exchnage a look and I nod at her before I look over at Dina. "You watch over her, okay?" I said to her and Dina nods. "Of course." Dina said and I give a small smile at this then I get an idea.

"Um, Ellie...before you go. There's something else I wanna give ya." I said and I head back up the stairs and grab another boxes that had Joel's stuff in it. I open it and pull out his revolver. I sniffled a bit and let out a heavy sigh at this as I stroked my thumb across the surface of the gun.

Then I head back down the stairs and to Ellie. "Here...I want you to have this." I said as I hand her the revolver and she looks up at me in surprise. "Y-You sure?" She asked me and I nod. "Just promise me....you'll make those bastards pay for what they did." I said, my voice shaking. "I will. I promise." Ellie said. "Good." I said and Ellie and I share a hug before her and Dina head out.

(A/N: So that'll be the end of this for now. The idea I had in mind was so long that I decided to divide it into 2 parts so the next Chapter will be like the conclusion of all this. And please keep in mind this is NOT cannon to my fic, except for the little flashback with (y/n) and Joel that is cannon. Let's say that this is an alternate universe of my fan fic. Hoped you enjoyed.)

@fangirl-inthe-us

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us joel x reader #the last of us part 2 #the last of us imagine #the last of us joel #joel x reader #joel imagine #joel #joel miller x reader #naughtydog #naughty dog

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mostlydysfunction · 4 years ago

Text

From The Stars, Part 2

Chapter Summary: Kira and the Xenomoprh have a second, strange encounter and Kira gets a visit from the Feds.

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Here’s part 2, nothing really exciting, but we do get to see a little more about Kira’s past. Nothing too deep though.

MASTERLIST

________________________________________________________________

“Stop.”

Kira doesn’t expect it to work. The creature is halfway across her dining room, mid-step, when it pauses. Kira’s hands are shaking, the dying light outside making her more nervous. There was no fire to offer any light tonight and soon it would be pitch black and she was inside with this strange, alien creature. It could be weeks before anyone found her body.

But nonetheless, the creature stays frozen where it is at her command, watching her with unseen eyes. She stares at it for a good while, the light fading faster and faster. She slowly reaches out, fumbling against the wall for the light switch. The creature flinches as the light turns on overhead, just the subtlest of movements.

“What the hell are you? And what the hell do you want?” Kira almost winces at the shakiness of her voice. But given the current situation, she’s not all that ashamed of her fear. It was clearly justifiable.

The creature tilts its head slowly, hissing lowly. It crouches down on its haunches, putting it nearly at her height. It had been towering over her standing, easily two feet taller than she was. Despite its hulking size, it was bony and emaciated looking. She was no biology expert, but she wondered if it always looked like that, or if it was actually starving and looking for a meal.

But if that were the case, it probably would have eaten her by now. It would have done so last night. Unless it was playing with her.

The creature slowly puts its hand down on the floor, leaning its weight forward onto it slowly and deliberately. Its head doesn’t move, invisible eyes still on her as it shifts its body, its other hand following the same movement. Kira takes a half a step back, the creature pausing and hissing again at her. She’s still gripping the gun, knuckles white around it. She should just shoot it, attempt to kill it before it gets a chance to kill her. Her heart is hammering in her chest, hands shaking so much she’s not sure she could hit it even this close to her.

The creature begins to move again, slowly crawling towards her. The distance between them gets smaller and smaller, the creature starting to drip drool all over her floor. Kira’s stomach flutters in fear, her finger attempting to find the trigger.

It all happens very quickly: the explosion from the shotgun, Kira’s adrenaline forcing her to turn and run, the air leaving her lungs as she’s slammed down on the hardwood of her living room floor. Her vision goes white for a moment, heavy weight on her back making it harder to breathe. The shotgun has slid a few feet away, nearly against the wall. A hand with too-long fingers touches her head, more sticky drool hitting the back of her neck. Kira feels tears burn her eyes, knowing her death must be imminent.

The creature hisses angrily at her before it quiets, the hand sliding down her head and face until it’s on her shoulder. The weight on her back disappears, and she’s pulled rather unceremoniously off of her stomach and onto her side. Her back hits something hard and ribbed, bony limbs encasing her in. Its spiked tail curls in front of her, the knifelike end disappearing over her head. Was it...holding her? Was this how it would eat her? Absorb her into its body?

Kira can’t help it, the strangeness of the whole situation plus the terror of not knowing what’s going to happen hitting her all at once. She begins to cry, hot tears spilling across her skin and pooling on the floor under her. Her lungs burn as she cries, sobs rocking her body. The creature doesn’t move except to rest its head on top of hers, making low hissing noises at her.

********

Kira is alone when she wakes up. The sun is up, light coming in through the window. She’s sticky and feels sick to her stomach. Her face is tight from the tears she had cried last night and despite the sleep she’d gotten, which she can’t even recall falling asleep in the first place, she feels exhausted. Her back is sore and her chest, no doubt from being slammed on the floor by the alien. The throbbing in her head gets worse as she sits up, groaning slightly in protest of the movement.

There’s no sign of the alien as she stumbles through the house, finding the ibuprofen and some water. The only sign that last night had been real was the shattered back door and the hole in the wall from where she’d missed the shot. She grabs a broom and a dustpan, cleaning up the glass before going out to the barn to find the tarp to tape over the missing glass until she could get it replaced.

She’s in the process of filling the bullet hole when there’s a knock on her door. She nearly jumps out of her skin, half expecting to see the alien outside her front window. But that would be ridiculous. She opens the door, surprised to see two men in suits standing on her front porch.

“Kira Matthews?” One of them asks. Kira nods in response. “I’m Agent Jameson, this is Agent Hitchcock. We’re investigating the explosion that happened the night before last. We were wondering if we could ask you some questions.”

Kira hesitates before nodding. “Sure. Come in.”

She moves out of the doorway, letting the two agents into her house. She guides them to sit on the couch in the living room, taking the old rocking chair across from them. She hopes they don’t notice the tarp over the back door. No doubt it would raise some questions.

“Ms. Matthews, you live here by yourself?” Agent Jameson asks her.

Kira nods. “Yes. I prefer the quiet and the isolation.”

“Where were you on the night of March 24th around 3:20 in the morning?”

“I was in bed, upstairs, asleep. The explosion woke me up.”

“You didn’t report it?”

“My cell phone service was down and the power was out.”

Agent Jameson nods, writing everything down. “What did you do after the explosion woke you?”

“I went outside to look at the fire, made sure it wasn’t too close to the house.”

“And then?”

“I stayed up and watched it. Made sure I didn’t need to get out of here in a hurry.”

“Ms. Matthews, did you notice anything strange that night, anything out of the ordinary.”

Now was her chance. Now was her chance to bring up the strange creature that had been in her yard, that had broken into her house. But would they believe her? Would they shrug her off as being some kook who lives out in the woods alone?

Kira shakes her head. “No. I mean, outside of the explosion, no.”

Agent Hitchcock stands up, looking at the photos on the walls. They had been there since Kira was a little girl, pictures of her with her parents, from a different time in her life.

“My parents.” She says, answering the question hanging in the air. “My dad moved into town not long after my mom died. He couldn’t take being around so many reminders of her, so he bought a place in town and I stayed out here.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Agent Hitchcock says.

“It was a while ago.”

“You’re sure you didn’t see or hear anything strange?” Agent Jameson asks her again.

Kira shakes her head. “Nothing. I was outside on my porch all night. There was...” Kira swallows, her heart racing. She could do it. She could tell them. Get them to hunt it down, kill it before it killed her. “Two deer that ran through, but that’s not that unusual for out here.”

Why couldn’t she do it? Why couldn’t she tell them about the alien? They obviously expected her to say something strange, something about some creature that obviously wasn’t from earth that probably crash landed in the spaceship that caused the explosion and the fire that found its way to her yard and to her and now wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Right.” Agent Jameson says, closing his notepad.

“What happened back here?” Agent Hitchcock asks. He was standing in front of the tarped back door.

She could tell them. She could tell them an alien broke through her window to get to her.

“Oh, some local kids played a prank last night. Not a lot happens in this town. Sometimes they come out here and vandalize the houses in the woods.”

“Did you report it to the police?”

Kira shakes her head. “No. What can they do? I have no proof it was them.”

“No security system?”

Kira shakes her head again. “No. Like I said, it’s quiet out here. Things like that don’t happen very often. Usually it’s the empty vacation houses they hit.”

Kira’s heart is nearly pounding out of her chest. Why can’t she just say it? Why is she protecting an alien that most likely wants to consume her in the near future?

Agent Jameson stands up from the couch. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Matthews.” He pulls a card from his pocket as his partner joins him. “If you see or hear anything, please give us a call.”

Kira takes the card, nodding. The agents show themselves out, Kira watching the SUV back out of her driveway and head down the road, no doubt going to the next house down the road to ask the same questions. Kira lets out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Why hadn’t she been able to tell them? Why had the words stuck in her throat? She had just protected an alien that was very capable of killing and eating her.

A laugh bursts through her lips, loud and manic sounding. There was an alien somewhere in the near vicinity that had made contact with her twice and no doubt was playing with her before it ate her and had broken her window and she had just lied to the Feds about it all. She laughs harder, falling to her knees as tears stream from her eyes. The whole situation was completely crazy. There really was an alien out there, an alien that had for some reason taken a liking to her. An alien that had, for some reason, decided she was going to be its prey.

Part 3

#alien #xenomorph #xenomorph x human #xenomorph x oc #exophilia

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thetransguard-archive · 4 years ago

Note

I really have a hard time with ao3's interface, would you mind posting your fic on here so it's more accessible to me personally? I understand if you don't want to, have a lovely day!

of course, it’s not a problem! putting it under the cut because it’s kind of long

tw: canon temporary character death (nicky’s shooting), mild temporary amnesia, graphic description of canon typical violence

all the little lives

Later, Joe chalks it up to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the same purpose that has carried him, exhausted and aching, up and up and up, through the sleek building to carry out Andy’s strategy. So it’s only when he offers the end of the rope to Nicky to tie around his arm, and the green eyes that stare back at him are blankly confused that he realises.

“São Pau-” but he doesn’t let Booker finish his sentence, doesn’t want Nicky stammering apologies for things beyond his control. So he cuts in, “I’ll make the entrance this time.” Loops the cord around his forearm a few times, tightens it. Swaps out his gun for Nicky’s. He has less ammunition in this one, but it’s bigger and louder and here his role is not to attack effectively, just to put them off balance, even for a moment. As he pulls away, Nicky’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. The tips of his fingers are still terribly cold.

Joe looks from Nicky’s solemn face to Booker’s. The guilt in him pours from his eyes, the slant of his mouth, the set of his shoulders. Pity and pain wage war inside Joe’s mind, but right now there are bigger things to take care of. They don’t need words, not after two centuries of brotherhood.

I’m trusting you, for this. For now. Keep him safe.

He waits three seconds after the fire door slams shut behind them to smash through the window.

In the elevator down, his eyes can’t stop drifting to Booker. He’s standing closest to the doors, gun gripped tight. Joe doesn’t want to bore holes in the back of his brother’s head, but he can't help himself. He can’t stop wondering. When? When? At what point did Booker decide that whatever family they had all built together, was never going to be enough? That night a decade or so ago, when he’d smashed the night’s wine bottle in a drunken rage and screamed at Andy and Nicky and him until Joe had cried? Or even before that, the last job in Russia in the seventies, when he refused to speak at all? When they’d laughed over Andy’s baklava? At what point had Booker decided that a chance of true, final death was worth the rest of them?

He feels the beginnings of tears in the backs of his eyes and before he can scrub at them to push them back, he feels a warm hand on the small of his back. Nicky. He refocuses on that small pressure, on the taste of blood in his mouth, the weight of his boots. He breathes, and does not cry. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in tears, but right now he needs to keep a steady head.

There’ll be time later.

The gunshots are faint but Nicky still jolts, pale eyes latching onto the ceiling. When the elevator doors open, he sprints, pushing past Booker. Joe’s not far behind, and they help Nile out of the car as her joints snap back into place, muscles reforming around shattered bone. Bonds made in blood, in pain. In love. Joe meets Nicky’s eyes through the dash mirror as they drive into something new.

They stop, after a while, because Andy’s still woozy from blood loss and the shock of actually feeling the physical pain through to its entirety. She and Joe swap, and after a brief argument in which Andy increasingly slurs her words in a way that’s alarming to all in the car, Nile takes her place in shotgun. Joe looks back after maybe half an hour and finds their fearless leader drooling a little on his beloved’s shoulder. Nicky’s drifted off a little too, days of almost constant pain catching up to him. They’re only human, after all. Some small selfish part of Joe wants to swap out and let himself nap too, but Nile’s new and has just taken a swan dive out of a skyscraper and doesn’t even know where to go, really, and Booker...

Logically, Joe knows that there’s no chance that Booker would drive them into another trap, another capture. This was his only plan, and he’s shed blood to make it right, however immediately. But this new sting of pain and horror is brand new and fresh in his chest, so he keeps driving, and ignores the way Booker’s eyes keep flicking to his in the mirror. Doesn’t acknowledge him the way Nicky has been doing, but for a different reason. Nicky retreats, when he’s angry- the problem shrinks in his mind, becomes somewhat invisible. His eyes slide over the issue like a river over a rock until it’s eventually worn away. His rage is deep and slow to dissipate. But for Joe? If he lets himself go, he knows exactly the type of venom he’s capable of spitting. And it’s as Andy said. Now just isn’t the time.

So, he drives.

Somehow between one blink and the next, they are at the safehouse. It’s almost dark now, the deepening sky wreathed in purples and blues in a way that makes him itch for his paints. If he had the energy for it. He feels worn down to the bone. Joe is just uncurling his aching fingers from the wheel, but Nile is already out of the car, stepping around to shake Andy awake. So young, for all of this already, and stronger than all of them. She’ll be the best of us. Most days he feels fine, is able to keep all of that time packed away, out of sight and out of mind. There’s always something new to see, to experience, to love. Today though, he just feels the weight of all the years.

(He’s so fucking tired.)

A gentle voice to his right, that odd mix of old Ligurian and Arabic that they’d invented, all on their own so many lifetimes ago. He’s smiling even before he knows why.

“Yusuf, love, let’s go. Let’s go.”

He lets himself lean on Nicky, just a little, as they slouch towards the door that Nile’s taken Andy through. She doesn’t try turning on the lights, but he does, and Nile jolts like she’s been shocked when they actually flick on. Booker closes the door behind them with a soft click. Still trying to blend away into the background. They stand there in the atrium for a moment, still covered in dust and smoke and blood. The house is large and it swallows the sounds of their ragged breaths.

“Some of our safehouses aren’t abandoned churches and caves.” Nicky’s voice has gone even softer with fatigue. “Hot water works, too. The rooms have ensuites.” He doesn’t say anything else before he begins leading Joe up the stairs.

Joe, as tired as he is, is pleased to know that Nicky at least remembers these little things. It means he’s healing well.

The bedroom door locks behind them and they strip off their clothes in a pile in the corner. They’ll have to burn it all tomorrow. Now, Joe goes hunting for where they’d kept their spares while Nicky finds the soap and starts the hot water running. When he returns, Nicky is already submerged to his neck. They’d allowed themselves to splurge in buying this place, and when Joe seats himself behind Nicky there’s plenty of room to move. Nevertheless, his heart leans back, damp head on his shoulder. They sit for a moment. Soak in the quiet of it all. They’ll have to rinse themselves off properly later, but for now they let the steam pool and swirl and fill the slightly dusty bathroom.

“How much?”

Sometimes, when one of them suffers a catastrophic head injury, it takes a while to remember it all. The last time had been Booker, and he’d been blown to bits by a mine and died three more times before they could piece enough of him back together for it to matter. They’d taken turns, him and Nicky and Andy, for the few days after, filling in all the gaps that Booker couldn’t recall at the time. The memories all came back eventually, but at least there was a warning. Some things just shouldn’t be remembered alone.

Between the two of them, it had been Joe the last time things were forgotten. He’d been dead and in the process of healing before the tank had rolled over his head, killing him again. He'd awoken to a hysterical Nicky, blood all over his face and hands. Trying to piece his pulverised skull back together. He hadn’t remembered what exactly had brought him to this place, but he’d tried to wipe away Nicky’s tears, first. Always, Nicky first. That kiss had tasted of blood. When it was either of them, they usually just told tales to each other. They’d been together for all of it, hadn’t they?

There is not a single piece of his soul that he hadn’t already bared.

“Just little... Little pieces. Tell me.” Nicky has switched to Arabic, rounding out the sounds in his throat. Joe can feel the rumble of his chest, knows without looking that Nicky’s eyes are closed. He grabs the soap, starts working on what he can reach. Nicky’s sifting back through a millennium of memory. He can help speed things along.

Nicky leans forwards and Joe leans with him, lathering soap down the length of his spine. He considers. He begins, his voice a bare whisper, barely sound. Pure thought passed from one half to another.

“You are Nicolo di Genova. You are Nicholas, and Nico, and Nicky to those who love you. You are loved, dearly. You are the other side of my beating heart. You are the son to parents who did not care for you and deserve no care in return. You are the friend and brother to Andromache of Scythia, and Sébastien le Livre, and… Nile Freeman. She’s new. She saved us. He betrayed us.

We have lived thousands of lives, side by side. I have killed you, and you have killed me. Our deaths are the same. Our lives align. When that final night comes, it shall come for us both. We have walked through war, and peace, through hatred and with love, always. We hurt those who harm. We protect those who cannot protect themselves. You are good with children, and small animals. You have practised kindness until it has become the bedrock on which you build your soul.

You dream, and you think harder than any of us, because out of us you are the one who knows the danger of action without reason. You are the philosopher to my poet. You make sense of my art. You sing, when you can, and it is always the most beautiful sound to my ears, comparable only to your voice, and the beat of your heart.

You speak only when you need to. Your patience is boundless. You inflicted great harm once, on me, on my people and on others. But you learn, and you have grown. You are forgiven. You are always learning, eager for knowledge. Your curiosity is the best part of you, in my opinion. Along with all the rest.

You have purpose. You are good. Always, I love you.”

Nicky’s hair has grown back in exactly the same way it had been before Keane shot him, but the skin is tender under his wet fingers. They turn around in the bathtub, splashing water out the sides, and he feels Nicky’s hands on his shoulders now, easing away the grime.

“And you?” Nicky’s voice is breathless, teasing. Somewhere, somehow in between getting into the water and now, the weight has lifted from Joe’s bones, has set aside that grief and guilt and anger and fear. It’s still there, but he’ll deal with it in the morning. The sun will rise, as it always has, and there will be time later to card through everything and pack it away. Now, however, is cooling water and gentle fingers and cheap hotel soap from decades gone by. Now is the quiet after the storm. The house is shaken, but still standing. Everyone he holds in his heart is still here.

“I am Yusuf, I am Joe. I am yours. And I will never let you go.”

#the old guard #joe x nicky #kaysanova #ty for showing interest lmao #my writing #mine #anonymous #ask #reply

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