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mor-beck-more-problems · 3 years ago

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Keeping Vigil || Morgan & Eddie

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @specterchasing & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: When Morgan can’t carry her hope, Eddie is there to help.

CONTAINS: body horror, discussions of death, mortality, decay

After reaching another dead end in her search for answers, Morgan broke down and took an extra long shower to get rid of her smell and wash the rough parts on her body that had been hurt or picked at by bugs. The water pattered on her just right, steadier and softer than rain. When she let it fall into her ear and make the room feel like underwater, she could hold onto the water and nothing else and the aches and cramps faded, and everything was fine. She savored the change in water temperature as it faded from hot to cool as much as the change in the sky from light to dark.

A little later, as she picked at cold fried rice and brains, the waistband on her sweats started to feel a little tight, and when Morgan looked down her coloring had gone another shade of wrong and when she touched her stomach (first in the middle, then all around) she got the sinking feeling she used to once a month: bloating. Maybe it was water damage, maybe it was just that time in the un-life cycle. It didn’t fucking matter, did it?

“Great. First I’m dead, then I’m falling apart and ripped up like a rag doll, and now I’m a dead ripped up balloon doll waiting to pop.” She thought about how she’d announce this latest development to Deirdre when she got home and decided she didn’t want to. So she made some tea, remembered all the chamomile in the world wouldn’t actually calm her and threw it against her studio.

The mug bounced off the wall. Tea splattered the yard.

Morgan picked it up and holed herself up inside the four little walls where she was supposed to be alone. Maybe if she disappeared in a book or a playlist she could forget about what was happening to her body. Funny how she’d dreamed of feeling the world again every day for the last fourteen months; now she’d try just about anything to go numb and float off again.

As Eddie approached the front door of Morgan’s home, an unexpected sound from the backyard caught his attention. He took a few steps back and looked over the fence in time to see the studio door close. If that’s where Morgan was, it would be pointless to try getting into the main house. Admittedly, tracking her down would be a nonissue if she knew he planned to drop by, but Eddie had a sneaking suspicion she didn’t want visitors in her current condition. Be that as it may, he needed to see her. For all he knew, this might be his last chance.

Eddie reached over the fence’s gate and unlocked it from the other side, immediately re-locking it once inside. Even in his haste, he didn’t want to be the reason something unwanted took an open door as an invitation. Eddie quickly bypassed the garden that usually imbued him with a sense of calmness. Today, all it did was put more space between him and Morgan.

At the studio door, Eddie knocked only to enter without waiting for a response. The second he saw her, his heart fell into his stomach. Morgan, for the first time since meeting her, looked dead.

“I heard about what happened,” Eddie announced. He figured wasting time on small talk would be insulting at this point. “I wish you would’ve told me yourself, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.” As he spoke, he walked further into the studio. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of people in your corner right now. Is there room for me to throw my hat in the ring?”

Morgan only managed a few minutes of stillness before she heard a knock. She flinched, dreading what she would have to explain to Deirdre, but before she could work up the nerve to answer, Eddie came in. She was so startled she forgot to cover her face. Her blue-purple pallor was growing new colors, black in some places, yellow in others. Somehow, her skin was peeling and shriveled and swollen at once. Her eyes, now clouded like frost on a window, looked smaller than they should and her lids sagged around the empty space. For a woman who would never age, she sure looked like she had outlived her time.

In the brief instant Eddie held the door open, three flies flew in and circled lazily toward her. They knew a good thing when they saw it. She should probably have been more grateful that maggots and fungi hadn’t found her yet, but the only thought she had room for was, Eddie shouldn’t be here.

“W--what? I--” It didn’t really matter how he found out, did it? “I don’t want to be one of those people that puts their bullshit on kids and makes them carry it,” she sighed. “And I don’t...know what I’m going to do about any of this. If I can do anything about this. I went through the books I had, I tried looking through some others and--” Nothing. She slumped back in her corner on the day bed and covered her face with a pillow. Then, feeling ridiculous, tossed it away and settled for pulling her legs up and hiding that way. “You should probably grab some air freshener from the kitchenette,” she mumbled.

Eddie had never seen Morgan look so small before. In the past, her petite frame always seemed like an act of misdirection. When she spoke, the weight of her words commanded attention. Her laugh charmed a sigh of relief from the world around her. Out of everyone Eddie knew, he couldn’t think of a single person he respected more than Morgan Beck. Seeing her this way didn’t change that, it only proved the severity of the situation. It was time for him to start repaying her for everything she’d done.

“Well, this kid would rather help carry your bullshit than let it bury you,” Eddie replied as he took her advice and walked over to the kitchenette. He wanted to tell her he didn’t mind the smell but lying wouldn’t make the situation any better. Eddie pulled the trigger and a clean-linen scented mist mingled with the smell of decay. It would have to do.

“So,” he continued, moving closer to her before taking a seat beside her on the day bed. “Catch me up to speed, I only know the bare minimum.” Eddie didn’t think being told the details would lead them to a solution but that wasn’t why he came here. Other, more capable people would help Morgan in that area. What he wanted to accomplish was simply to make sure she knew she wasn’t alone. Maybe it wasn’t as glamorous of a purpose as finding a cure but believed it to be important all the same. “You woke up and, out of nowhere, you were alive again?”

Morgan grimaced at the hiss of the air freshener. She had suggested it, but smelling it and knowing how little good it would do was another matter. “You might wanna go a little heavier on that,” she deadpanned. “I’m almost a week into this, and whatever is fucking with me the slow, painful way, has a year’s worth of decay to catch up on.” She let her head rest against the wall and closed her eyes. All her physical senses back, and she still had to endure this latest cosmic ‘fuck you’ in complete sobriety. No rest. No relief.

She curled up a little tighter as he sat by her, as if her death-sickness was contagious. “Uh, if you haven’t noticed, I apparently don’t need to be buried. I can decompose all by myself.” She worked his question thoughtfully, trying to find the right words for it. How stupidly excited she was for so little, and how suddenly it was a little too much.

“I wasn’t alive,” she said at last, face still buried in her knees. “No heartbeat. No warmth. I could just...feel again. The bedsheets were cold. And soft. Weirdly soft. And my girlfriend was soft and cold but different, and the carpet was...coarse and thick and plushy...it was like I’d never been on this planet before. Everything was new. The words I had weren’t enough to describe it. I spent a whole two days convincing myself that whatever was happening it wouldn’t be so bad. Some weird town thing we’d have to reverse. But then I got hurt and it took me forever to heal. And then I didn’t heal at all. And I ate, I had so many brains, but my body was shriveling up, turning color, smelling, all that gross stuff that’s not supposed to happen to me if I do everything I’m supposed to. And do you know how it feels, literally feels, to have your body dry up? Or to--” One of the flies landed on her cheek and began exploring the new terrain. Morgan raised her hand and let it, waiting til it reached her hairline where she wasn’t so sensitive. She slapped it dead and left the goo where it was. “Be food for the bugs? Because that’s something I know now. Can’t wait for everything else to go, or for whatever’s keeping me wide awake for the whole horror science show to...decide what comes next.” She didn’t want to die. She wouldn’t be this frustrated if she did. But being nothing but wobbling bones and leather and dust frightened her just as much as oblivion. She didn’t know which she was really supposed to hope for.

Eddie listened as Morgan described the past few days. At first, her condition sounded like a gift. He remembered when she told him how badly she missed being able to experience the world as a living participant. No heartbeat or warmth meant certain sensations were still off limits but, other than that, he imagined those first two days felt pretty damn good. A false sense of security, obviously. He hated this.

Morgan swatted the fly and Eddie’s lips pursed in response. “Hold on,” he announced, standing up to make his second trip to the kitchenette. Facing the counter, he tore a few paper towels from the roll and wetted them in the sink. After wringing out the extra moisture, he carried them back to the daybed and took his seat again. Eddie tentatively reached out and, as gently as he could, washed away the insect’s remains. When his hand lowered, he kept the damp wad of paper in his hand in case another decided to land on her.

“Morgan, do you remember what you said to me about hope, that it’s a choice?” Eddie asked. Of all people, he knew how unqualified he was to preach the importance of hope but he wanted to try. “You also said that to stop believing in the future is to stop believing in existing.” Even if he lacked the experience to explain the importance of looking for good, he knew Morgan didn’t. He could use her own words to help him navigate the situation.

“This isn’t the first time life’s given you its worst,” he said. “Obviously, you can roll over and accept hopelessness. Or, you can do what you do best and tell death to go fuck itself.”

“Yeah, this is an anomaly—so are you. Nothing is written, right? Don’t give up. Not yet.”

There were a lot of words Morgan had spoken in the past that haunted her now. Magic is going to save my life. All I need is to break the curse. Hope is a fucking choice. What was there to hope for when the only thing on the horizon was another shade of suffering? How could she continue believing in existence, when existence seemed to be shutting her down at both ends? Was she supposed to bone-jangle her way downstairs to breakfast every morning? Or be carried on a stretcher in so many pieces, to and fro? Or would the magic take away her mind too, and this was simply a farewell tour she didn’t have a say in? Morgan didn’t see much hope in that. What had all her suffering been for? A year of half a life, and then this?

Morgan scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and said nothing for a while. Then, just peeking over her knees with dead, swollen eyes, she said, “Death comes for everyone, Eddie. That’s what gives life balance. We end. We go...somewhere. Home. Even if it’s not until this planet implodes or gets struck by the right meteor. Everything is change. To stay stuck one way, that’s the biggest waste of what we have.” She shrugged. “But...stars in the fucking sky above…” Her voice drowned with held-in tears. “I couldn’t find anything about this, Eddie. I haven’t figured it out. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to imagine to hope for. And I’m so tired...I am so tired of climbing back up, of fighting the universe for one scrap of good. And right now...I almost wish I could give up. But I don’t even know what to give up on. All of it looks like giving up something right now.”

Eddie knew death came for everyone. Until recently, he clung to that fact with everything he had. Even now, his grip was only a little looser than before. Death, to him, sounded like a release. Morgan was tired, it made sense for her to want rest. A few months ago, Eddie might not have argued that it wasn’t the answer, but now he knew what loss felt like. If Morgan died, a piece of him would too. Ironically enough, the more he cared about someone, the more selfish he became.

“Lots of things that happen in this town don’t have books written about them. That doesn’t make them impossible to handle,” Eddie insisted before adopting a softer tone. “I know you’re tired. If anyone deserves rest, it’s you, and you’ll get it.” Eddie reached out with his free-hand and took hold of Morgan’s. “Like you said, death’s inevitable but it doesn’t have you yet. As long as you’re here, there’s a chance for things to get better. And—and, no, I don’t know what your pain feels like, but I know my own. Most days, getting out of bed is a fucking triumph, but I still do it; for you. For Alfie, for Bex, and Kyle, and everyone else who’s been kind to me. I don’t know what I’m hoping for exactly. Maybe I’m just hoping for hope.” Eddie paused before speaking again. “Think about that scrap of good, are you ready to let it go?” He meant the question genuinely and without pretense. “If you do, there’s no getting it back. No more garden, no more Deirdre, no more laughter, no more anything. Is there really nothing left worth fighting for?”

Morgan hid her face again as it crumpled with grief. But she let Eddie take her hand, and though her fingers were stiff, she squeezed his back. Mina had told her once that life was a curse of its own; Morgan had brushed it off as a flash of witty irony. But it came to her again now: was this living? Was crawling out of one hole only to fall into another what life looked like from the inside? She couldn’t think of a person she knew who wasn’t crawling out of something right now. The difference was only in terms of degree. When she was alive, human-alive, she had coached herself into accepting happiness as a stolen gift, a thing she would be caught red handed with and have to surrender. It would all be okay, because when the curse was over, she could have as much as she wanted and more. She could chase down every bright thing and know that however it turned out, it was fair as anything on earth could be, and she had given her best. It made her dry organs shrivel just a little more to suppose this was the way of all things, not just a thirty-nine-year blip of existence.

And yet there was no better choice before her. It was just like Eddie said. If she tried to will this bullshit to the end, she would be releasing everything she’d fought so hard to hold. And if she surrendered to the thought of an eternity of true living death, it would be much the same. The world struck no natural balance in the course of a life, and in White Crest it arched toward cruelty, and yet there had to be another horizon. These scraps of good had to be enough because they were all she had. And maybe In another week, a month, in a decade, things would be different. Magic always had a key to unlock itself. What was done might someday be undone. (Might, and with so little evidence to make it feel like anything at all.) She tried to imagine it, coming out of a stupor like sleeping beauty, kissing her own skin for holding its shape and keeping her here just enough to try and make a better balance in the world, kissing Deirdre, and the cats, and having every fresh memory from those early days to guide her toward contentment. She couldn’t hold the image very long. It burnt in flashes. Somehow, it hurt worse than either path of doom she saw. Morgan nodded and let hope in and sobbed, breaking with the weight of it.

She tried to muffle her cries with her other hand, but it was no good. She shook and soaked her sweatpants with her tears and turned Eddie’s fingers red with her grip. At last she noticed the change in the feel of his hand and let go. “Sorry. I’m...s-sorry. Um.” She wiped her face on her sleeve and tried to look at the boy. “You know you’re...a really kind, brave kid, right? And that’s why we all want you to be more careful? Because we need more of that around. We need you. And I wish you could be there for yourself like you are for me right now.” She heaved another dry sob and scrubbed her face again fighting for composure. It was always harder to show up for yourself, especially when you were alone.

“I’m not--uh, this isn’t because--” She gestured vaguely at the mess of herself. “I mean, you’re right. You’re right and I know you’re right and it’s just--” Kind of wish you weren’t. It would be so much easier if you weren’t. She shook her head, abandoning words in favor of meeting his gaze. What she didn’t know how to say was this: it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, holding out for hope and hoping for its own sake. But Eddie knew dark almost as well as she did; maybe he would know this just by looking at her, too.

When Morgan broke down, Eddie knew he’d struck a chord. He could only hope that meant something good and that he hadn’t made things worse. Her grip on his hand tightened exponentially but the pain barely registered. All he could focus on were her anguished sobs—he wondered how long she’d been trying to swallow them. Despair like that didn’t come to term in an instant. It laid in wait, brewing and accumulating more grievances both big and small until it could no longer be contained. If he had managed to help her rethink the release of death, maybe a release like this one would suffice for now.

“No, no, it’s—” Eddie’s dismissal of Morgan’s apology cut off when she spoke again. His expression slowly relaxed, brows raising in gentle surprise. A few people had called him brave now but he never seemed to get used to it. After spending so much of his life in hiding, he didn’t think he deserved that kind of praise. At the same time, he wanted to believe he was wrong. Eddie smiled sadly at Morgan. “One day, maybe. It’s a work in progress.” He didn’t know what to say about being needed but he tucked the compliment away somewhere he could find it when he lost sight of what mattered.

What she said—or, more accurately, didn’t say next resonated exactly as she expected it to. “It feels impossible, doesn’t it?” Eddie asked before his smile returned. “Kind of like when you’ve been in the dark for so long your eyes adjust to it and suddenly a light comes on and blinds you.” He gingerly rubbed the back of her with his thumb. “We’ll adjust to the light the same as we did the dark, just gotta give ourselves some time.”

Morgan nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Slowly, she unfolded her legs. There wasn’t much of her left to hide, and the second fly was already crawling along her skull. She thought about what Eddie said when it came to the light and the dark, and wondered how long it would take for her vision to get screwed up from so much back and forth that everything hurt. It would have to be a long time from now, wouldn’t it? She would have to make it that way.

After what seemed like a long time she said, “You know, for someone who lumped in hope with the evils of the world, you’re getting pretty good at being hope’s cheerleader.” Then after another silence, “You don’t have to stay with me though, okay? I’m not gonna go off the deep end, or do anything I shouldn’t. Deirdre will probably be home soon anyway.” Time had a way of moving funny when you were miserable, something Eddie was probably familiar with too, but the last thing she wanted him to carry was more worry about her. She nearly reached over to pat his arm, reassure him in a performance of her good ol’ self, but she remembered how she looked and let it fall empty instead. “Thank you though,” she said quietly.

Since Eddie last gave Morgan his opinion on hope, a lot had changed—was still changing. He didn’t find comfort in misery as much as he used to. Now, he understood happiness took a little elbow grease and that brains need to be re-wired every now and then. Some days were harder than others, he didn’t always believe his positive affirmations, but he was trying. For himself and everyone he loved, he was trying.

“When you’re wrong, you’re wrong,” he said with a shrug. “I thought I might as well give your outlook a shot. It’s going pretty okay so far.”

When Morgan next spoke, Eddie considered her carefully. He didn’t want to linger if she needed time to decompress but he also didn’t want to risk leaving too soon. Finally, he said, “Okay, if you’re sure.” Eddie stood up and took a deep breath before turning to face her. “If you need anything, anything at all, call me. I don’t care what time it is. I know it sucks to feel like you’re weighing people down but I love you, Morgan. I like helping you.” He leaned down to wrap his arms loosely around her. “Don’t ever feel like a burden.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” Morgan whispered. “Go on now. Be good and I’ll see you soon.”

Eddie straightened up and walked over to the kitchenette to toss the wadded up paper towels in the trash. Afterwards, he headed for the door. “See you soon,” he said, glancing back at Morgan before taking his leave.

#keeping vigil #wr eddie #wr chatzy #wr eddie chatzy

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salexectrian-heir · 4 years ago

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the 2/2 time travel fic

happy 2/2! here is the first chapter of this fic idea i posted about a little while ago

First chapter below | ao3 link in notes

Akira had been dreading the conversation with Maruki.

Not because he was having second thoughts--no, Akira was steadfast in his resolve that this reality was a mistake. His resolution hadn’t come without a price, of course. His friends were being robbed of their dreams, their happiness no matter how false it was in nature...and Akira would have to bear the burden of knowing he was the one who ultimately was going to destroy it all. And even though the thieves and his rival were on board with its destruction, Akira knew that the decision had taken a piece of them with it. It had required a sacrifice from them all. And that ate Akira alive, knowing that they all had a taste of what could have--

No, Akira couldn't think like that. It would only make everything he had to do that much harder.

Somehow, out of all the betrayals he had experienced this year, Maruki’s was by far the most painful.

Maruki had held space for Akira when Akira had needed it most. Akira rarely entrusted others with his needs, having been burned too many times before this point to forge that kind of fragile, vulnerable, two-way connection with someone else. But Maruki had felt safe enough to confide in, and in turn made Akira feel seen, feel validated. Had respected Akira’s opinions and sought them out instead of admonishing him for sharing his perspective. Against his better judgement, Akira had opened his heart.

No adult in Akira’s life had ever done that for him before. So of course learning that Maruki had taken those secrets spoken in confidence, manipulated them, and thought he knew what would be best not only for him but the world…something snapped in Akira.

And now, sitting across from the former “counselor” turned Self-Appointed Savior, Akira battled his warring emotions into submission. Into the familiar blank mask he wore outside the Metaverse to hide his true disposition. The mask he thought he would never have had to wield against the one adult he thought he would have never needed to hide from.

From the only adult he thought he could finally trust.

The calling card tucked in the inner pocket of his jacket was burning a hole through its thin fabric. Each controlled breath Akira took as he listened to Maruki explain himself pressed the blistering deadweight a little closer to the skin of his chest. The frail, last line of defense he had that separated the world from that bleeding and bruised muscle.

And right now, if he didn’t get rid of the card within the next few seconds he was sure the scent of his burning flesh would suffocate them all.

Maruki broke the lull that had settled between them first. His voice was gentle when he asked, “Are you sure you don't have any doubts, Kurusu-kun?”

Akira narrowed his eyes at the formality. They were past that. Way past that. “What do you mean, Maruki-sensei?” Akira responded sardonically.

The hand Maruki had wrapped around the mug of coffee Akira had made for him started a complicated beat against its porcelain surface as he studied Akira.

“ Akira,” he amended and started again, his eyes softening into something almost sorrowful. “More accurately, I should really be be asking 'do you two gentlemen have any doubts',” Maurki paused and glanced over his shoulder towards the cafe entrance.

“You're there, aren't you Ake”--the door to Leblanc nearly shattered on its hinges with the force of which it was thrown open--“chi-kun!?” Maruki stuttered out, his face swiftly morphing from melancholic to bewildered in the span of a second as he openly gawked at the entryway.

Akira blinked once. Did a double take. Then blinked once more.

Because it wasn’t Akechi who had just stormed into Leblanc.

Or, it was but...

“You,” a man who looked like the splitting image of a twenty-something, utterly irate Goro Akechi spat, his face contorting into a feral grimace as he pointed directly at Maruki.

Akira had seen the younger version of Akechi make that exact expression only one time before in the bowels of Shido’s palace. It was not something anyone wanted to be on the receiving end of.

There was a beat of absolute silence.

And then chaos erupted.

This older version of Akechi with murderous intent seething in his eyes launched himself at Maruki, barreling full force into their booth like a bull after the counselor’s throat. Maruki made a very undignified squeak at the sudden assault and tried to put as much space between him and the rampaging Older Akechi by scrambling further into the seat. Kicking wildly at him to try and stop the halestorm of blows reigning down from the furious Akechi-lookalike. It did little to deter the older detective prince. If anything it made him even angrier.

Meanwhile Morgana, who had relocated from sitting next to Akira to perching behind him on top of the booth, was yowling at ear piercing decibels. His fur also was comically puffed up, making him appear two times his normal size as he whipped his head back and forth between the attempted murder happening before them and Akira.

Who was sitting there with his coffee mug halfway to his mouth, watching everything unfold in a sort of detached awe.

A moment later the door was ripped open a second time and everything got a whole lot weirder.

Because it still wasn’t Akechi.

Instead, a very frazzled looking twenty-something version of himself tumbled through the door. He was out of breath, as if he had sprinted all the way here from...where ever the fuck he had come from. This older version of himself took one panicked survey of the room and promptly leapt into the chaos, snagging the Older Akechi around the waist in an attempt to slow his assault.

This older version of Akechi was taller, and had a bit more mass than his older self, but his older doppelganger didn’t let that stop him. He braced one boot against the seat of the booth and dug his other heel in the floor, leveraging the angle and gravity, to yank the Older Akechi off of the therapist’s lower half.

At this point, Akira noted, Maruki had effectively shoved himself so far back that he was half on the table with his back pressed against the window, fingers clumsily looking for the latch that would open it. In his haste to avoid the older Akechi’s swiping gloved fists, he knocked over the potted plant on the window sill. Soil cascaded across the table along with the poor upended plant and broken fragments of its pot.

Sojiro was going to kill him.

I should really be more concerned about all of this, Akira idly thought, flicking away a tiny ceramic shard. But he found it was hard to feel anything right now, as what he was watching seemed so surreal. I wonder if this is what disassociating feels like.

For the third time that evening the door to Leblanc was forced open with an unforgiving smack that sounded off over the cries and screams from the fight. The wall was surely dented at this point from the abuse. Akira vaguely wondered if the door hinges were going to survive the night.

This time it was the Akechi he had been expecting. Eighteen year old Goro Akechi stood in the doorway, gaping in utter shock at the pandemonium unfolding before them. Akira could practically see the formulaic equations running through and swirling around Akechi’s head, as he processed what was happening.

The younger Akechi simply mouthed, “What the fuck.” And continued not to move.

Akira’s attention was drawn back to the weird three sided battle happening literally two feet in front of him when he heard a pained gasp.

“Goro--plea--,” the older version of Akira wheezed, collapsing onto the floor after a sharp elbow connected with his sternum, “p-please--stop.”

The older version of Goro Akechi did not, in fact, stop. He in fact, got worse.

“Get back here you PIECE OF SHIT,” he bellowed, successfully grabbing hold of Maruki’s leg just as the counselor had managed to get his head and shoulders out the window.

Another undignified squeak escaped Maruki as his body was forcefully pulled back into the booth with a very painful looking jerk.

“A-Akechi-ku--” Maruki started to plead, but his voice cut off in a gurgle when the older Akechi managed to get both of his gloved hands around his throat.

It was at that moment his older self resurfaced in the fight. Hooking his arms under the older Akechi’s armpits, he twisted Akechi’s arms back, breaking his hold around the counselor’s throat and heaved the detective off Maruki.

“No!” the pinned Akechi cried, scrambling for purchase on Maruki’s sweater as he was tipped backwards.

The sound of stitches ripping followed the men as they tumbled backwards out of the booth and into a couple of the barstools behind them, which crashed to the ground in their wake. Maruki braced himself with one hand on the table and his other on the back of the booth to prevent himself from tipping into the writhing body pile on the floor. His sweater was stretched out and torn, hanging loosely off his neck.

Akira’s phone, which had also been on the table, lit up and started to incessantly vibrate. A stream of messages from Futaba were flooding in when Akira checked it. He elected to ignore those for now. Before flipping the screen down, Akira took note of the time.

23:58 PM.

Two more minutes until this shitshow of a day was over and the dawn of February Third would rise. Akira released a weary sigh and set his phone aside in favor of his now lukewarm coffee. God damn he wished he had something a little stronger than the Jamaican Blue Mountain brew he was sipping on to put up with all this bullshit.

Happy fucking Birthday to me, he thought as he raised his mug in mock cheers at the camera Futaba had installed in the corner of Leblanc’s seating area. Where he was one hundred percent certain she was watching in pure horror, given the messages he was still receiving making his phone vibrate and shimmy at his elbow.

Honestly after all this, Akira suspected nothing in this world could ever surprise him anymore.

“Aren’t you going to help?” Morgana’s voice cut through the static he hadn’t realized had been present in his ears.

From the floor, his older self was doing a much better job at dodging the older Akechi’s flying elbows with graceful dexterity, but Maruki somehow had strayed too close. He was now kneeling on the floor with his sweater once again in the older Akechi’s vice grip.

“He kind of deserves it,” Akira said flatly, setting down his mug.

Though Akira quickly changed his mind when Maruki started making gurgling noises again, which could only signify one thing.

The younger Akechi recovered from his stupefaction when he saw Akira move, and stepped in to assist. It required both Akira’s older self and the younger Akechi to hold back the raging older Akechi long enough for Akira to pull Maruki safely away. The older Akechi was then shoved against a wall, getting yelled at quite vehemently by his older self.

“Sorry about your sweater,” Akira said, after he turned away from the arguing dopplegangers.

Maurki plucked at the frayed neckline and chuckled a bit breathlessly. “It’s seen better days.”

Upon closer inspection, Maurki’s glasses were broken and sitting askew on his face. His lip also had been split at some point and was leaking a tiny trail of blood down his chin. Akira grabbed a bunch of napkins off the counter and held them out to Maruki, who accepted and thanked him with a slight bow of his head, pressing them to his mouth.

“Would someone kindly explain just what the fuck is going on,” the younger Akechi demanded in near hysterics (his Akechi, Akira’s mind unhelpfully supplied before Akira buried that thought deep down).

The older versions of themselves fell silent.

There was a deep sigh that sounded almost identical to the one Akira had made a few minutes ago.

“Let’s try this again,” Akira heard his voice say from across the room, “how about we all take a seat. Calmly.” There was a pregnant pause as his older self shot a pointed look at the Akechi who had been the source of the problems, and released him from the wall. “Like civil adults.”

“Fine,” the older Akechi said, adjusting the scarf around his neck and smoothing out the lapels of his rumpled grey peacoat before sliding into the booth, with his older self right behind.

Akira tugged on Maruki’s sleeve, gesturing to follow him into the seat across from their visitors. Akira went in first, sitting directly across from the older Akechi which left Maruki to sit opposite the other Akira.

It was probably safer for everyone this way.

The younger Akechi (his Akechi) elected to remain standing, leaning against the far counter with his arms crossed over his tan coat in an attempt to look imposing, but really he just looked uncomfortable in Akira’s opinion.

Once everyone had settled in, the older Akira turned to Maruki. A sad smile broke across his face as he said, softly, “Hello Takuto.”

Why hearing his voice say Maruki’s first name was the thing that finally made Akira realize just how absurd this whole situation was, that shocked Akira back into his body from the weird detached space he had been floating around in the past few minutes, Akira couldn’t tell you.

Panic clawed its way out of his chest and into his throat, making his breathing erratic and ragged. The calling card in his pocket now felt like molten metal encasing his chest. His mind was reeling, racing, splitting apart as it finally registered that the man sitting adjacent from him across the table looked Just. Like. Himself.

What the fuck? What the FUCK?? WHAT THE FUCK!?

Maruki looked between him and his older self. “Akira…can you please explain yourself?”

“Uhm, I have no idea what’s happening,” Akira managed to get out weakly, before realizing Maruki wasn’t speaking to him, but the older man sharing his face.

“I think it would make it easier if everyone referred to us by our surnames, and our younger selves by their given names, for clarity’s sake,” his older self said, glancing at Akira and then Goro standing by the counter. “Will that be a problem?”

“Yes,” Goro said testily.

“Get over it,” Akechi snapped at his younger self.

Goro’s eyes flared. “Why should I--”

“Because it's a trivial distinction and it doesn’t really matter,” Akechi spoke over him, flicking his eyes over to Maruki briefly, “not when we have more pressing issues to deal with. Stop being difficult.”

That’s kind of rich coming from you, Akira thought but did not say.

Goro huffed but didn’t push it any further, opting to glare balefully at himself. The tension rolling off of Goro was enough to make Akira squirm, even from the otherside of the room. Luckily Akechi remained unphased by the daggers being thrown in his direction.

“To keep it simple and state the obvious, we are you. We travelled from the future of the reality this idiot,” Akechi gestured at Maruki, “ wants to impose upon the world. We’re here to make sure it never actualizes, as something evidently went very wrong when we attempted to do the same ten years ago.”

Morgana’s exclamation of “Ten years?!” overlapped with Akira’s yelp (Morgana had reflexively dug his claws into Akira) and Goro’s “What do you mean, ‘something went wrong’?”

“Yes ten years Mona, and I mean it exactly how it sounds,” Akechi said in a clipped tone, clearly not willing to explain himself further.

Akira sucked in a breath through his teeth as Morgana retracted the claws he embedded from his shoulder and mumbled an apology in his ear.

“Our memories of what happened on February Third are...not intact,” Kurusu offered, earning a scowl from Akechi. “The last thing I remember is entering the palace...then… waking up in the new reality. Same for him,” Kurusu nodded in the direction of his boothmate, whose scowl deepened.

Maruki cleared his throat. “How did you time tra--”

“We aren’t telling you shit, what we’ve said is all you needed to know,” Akechi snarled, “so shut up, read the damn calling card, and then get out.”

“If you lived in my reality for that long, surely you found it enjoyable Akechi-kun, you--”

“Don’t assume you know anything about me,” he growled, “and don’t make me repeat myself.”

“You are both aware of what will happen if this reality--your reality, is destroyed...,” Maruki said slowly, gaze switching between the older boys emphatically.

“It was never ours,” Akechi was quick to shoot back.

Kurusu nodded. “We are fully aware and...deemed travelling here to end it worth the consequence.”

“Kurusu…” Maruki said, a mortified expression dawning on his face. “I suspected Akechi-kun might have felt this way given the conditions of his existence...but you too?”

“Wait, I don’t follow,” Akira spoke up, unease settling heavily into his gut like lead stone as he watched the varying expressions on the faces before him. They all know something I don’t. “Conditions of his existence…?”

“He hasn’t told me yet,” Kurusu said, suddenly avoiding Akira’s eyes, instead turning to face Akechi. “That...complicates things.”

Both Akechi and Kurusu exchanged a look, then glanced at Goro.

“I take it you haven’t shared anything with Akira either,” Akechi asked Goro--who eyes darted over to Akira before shaking his ‘no’ . “I guess that answers our question if we landed in the right timeline,” Akechi muttered, then sat up straight, leveling a look directly at Akira.

Akira’s heart rate spiked under the weight of the familiar yet so foreign maroon tinted gaze, and he was struck once again by how breathtakingly beautiful Akechi Goro was. Taking the time to look at this older version of his rival, Akira noticed the years had been kind to him. His cheekbones had become more prominent, defining his face with sharper angles that his shorter hair style complimented. Even if it was still a little mussed from the earlier fight.

Akira swallowed thickly. Whatever Akechi was about to say, he had a feeling it wasn’t going to be good.

“What your esteemed counselor was most likely about to tell you before I”--he exhaled sharply--“lost my temper, was that in the true reality, we most likely died,” Akechi explained coolly, gesturing between himself and Goro on his right. “The only reason we’re here presumably is because it was your wish. And Maruki granted it.”

Something in Akira’s chest cracked painfully.

He desperately wanted Goro to meet his eyes, to look at him, to tell him it wasn’t true. That he escaped the night they fought in Shido’s palace . But he was still staring at his older self with an intensity that barred no distractions.

It couldn’t be true.

Akira had felt the warmth of Akechi’s body when they brushed shoulders on the subway, had watched as the clouds of his breath faded away into nothing in the cold January air when they loitered outside the Jazz Jin. Witnessed the blood rush to flush his face when Akira teased him over ridiculously sugary, overpriced drinks and soft music. Sensed the raw power in his presence when they would pull off a seamlessly synchronized attack in the metaverse together…

It couldn’t be… he couldn’t be...

Akira’s vision tunneled as he focused on his rival.

Goro brought his hand to his chin, falling into his typical thinking pose which Akira had always found endearing, but now was sending sharp pains through his chest. “I couldn’t find any conclusive evidence to support it, but given the gaps in my memory after my final fight with Akira, and Wakaba Isshiki and President Okumura’s suspicious reappearances…,” he trailed off with a shrug. “Occam’s razor.”

“The simplest explanation is often the correct one,” both Goro and Akechi said in tandem.

“Two of you.” Kurusu pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up into his fringe as he did, and muttered under his breath, “I have to deal with two of you for the next twenty-four hours.”

Akechi pinched Kurusu (who flinched) without breaking eye contact with Akira and continued on, “And then Maruki was going to bait you, Akira, into accepting his false paradise by dangling our life before you. Holding us hostage, essentially.”

“I wouldn’t have explained like that!” Maruki said defensively. “I was devastated when I learned what happened to you--err the two of you? That night in December. I don’t mean to make it seem like I am holding you both hostage--”

“But you are, and you did. ”

“Will, this Maruki hasn’t done it yet,” Kurusu quietly corrected Akechi.

Akechi plowed on, ignoring Kurusu’s comment, voice raising with each word he spoke, “You stripped us of our agency, forced us to play pretend in a world where you erased and repurposed parts of ourselves to fit your mold of perfection!”

Maruki winced.

Akechi trembled, barely able to contain anger, “I’ve spent enough of my life being manipulated by the will of men who think they own me, own the world. I refuse to live a moment longer in a reality concocted by someone else. I refuse.” His gloved fist slammed down on the table, causing the half-full mugs of forgotten coffee to rattle and send little splatters of dark liquid onto its surface.

Kurusu was quick to place his left hand over Akechi’s fist, who recoiled under the touch.

Akira stiffened at the sight of a thin band of silver on Kurusu’s finger, glinting under the soft lights overhead.

He’s married... I’m married?

Akechi started to pull away but then stopped, exhaling sharply. Kurusu ran his thumb over Akechi’s knuckles and his gloved fingers finally relaxed under Kurusu’s palm, splaying onto the table. He let Kurusu pull their hands off and out of sight.

“And.. you agree with this Kurusu?” Maruki asked after a few seconds of silence.

Kurusu took a steadying breath, and answered. “I do. And I understand that it means that I will also cease to exist.” A small smirk played on his lips. “At least this version of me.”

Maruki slumped back in defeat, staring unblinkingly at the droplets of coffee on the table. He swallowed, his jaw working for a moment before he nodded to himself. “Well then, I must accept that those are your decisions.” He looked up. “However, you don’t speak fo--”

“I also refuse to accept this farce of a life,” Goro interrupted, as if he had been waiting for Maruki to call on him. He turned his glare fully onto the former counselor and lifted his chin defiantly, “I’ve made my decision, and nothing you or anyone else says will change my mind.”

“Akira?” Maruki’s voice sounded so small and so far away, despite being right next to him. Akira turned in his seat, meeting Maruki’s pleading eyes. “Do you feel the same?”

Akira’s heart twisted in on itself.

Did he feel the same?

Before he couldn’t feel anything but now… it was as if his body was making up for the lost time. He was feeling too many things all at once.

If he rejected the reality Maruki was offering...it would mean…condemning them all to death.

From the corner of his eye, Akira took in the strange trio’s expressions. They all were mirrors of each other, all displaying their own versions of unwavering resolve and grim determination that Akira had walked into this conversation with--before everything had fallen apart.

A gentle nudge against the back of his head coupled with soothing purrs grounded Akira enough to stop his mind from spiraling any further. It also reminded him that it wasn’t just these lives who had a say in the fate of reality.

“I do,” he echoed his older self, and reached into his jacket pocket. Fire licked at his fingers as he peeled off the calling card that had melded into his skin and tossed it onto the table in front of Maruki.

Finally free of its oppressive, burning weight Akira took his first full breath since he came down the stairs from his room. Its phantom pain lingered, the skin too hot and tender where the card had laid over his heart. Akira flexed his fingers over the spot, hoping the friction would ease the discomfort. It didn’t. So he shoved his hand into his pants pocket and focused on regulating his breathing.

“I thought out of all people, you would understand,” Maruki said in the same small voice. Gently, he picked up the card and turned it over. “I’ve heard your calling. I’ll be waiting in the palace, as promised.”

When he stood up no one moved to stop him.

He met each of their eyes one last time and said, “If you don’t show, I’ll take that to mean you’ve accepted my reality.”

“We’ll be there,” Kurusu said with a conviction Akira had never heard himself use before. “See you tomorrow.”

“Ah, today, actually,” Maruki said, checking his watch. A heartbreaking smile formed on his face. “It’s probably not my place to say it, but Happ--.”

“Don’t you dare. Get. Out,” Akechi hissed venomously.

When the door clicked shut and the chimes ceased their ringing from Maruki’s exit, a collective sigh of relief seemed to ripple through the group. Akira let himself fall back against the booth, and was low key amused when he watched his older self do almost the exact same thing. Akechi gingerly leaned back as well, tension bleeding out from his tense shoulders as he eased himself down aside Kurusu. Kurusu reached out a hand and hesitated before tucking a short lock of hair behind Akechi's ear.

Akechi turned to him and whispered, “I can’t believe...that it worked."

“Believe it,” Kurusu matched his volume, and suddenly Akira felt like he was intruding on a private moment as their gazes lingered a little too long on each other.

“Are you, we...” Akira began uncertainly, “...friends then? In the future?”

Akira watched himself blush in real time.

“Ah. About that,” Kurusu said, fiddling with a piece of fringe as his cheeks continued to darken.

Akechi lifted his left hand and started tugging off his glove, one finger at a time. “In a manner of speaking.”

Akira’s heart kicked into high gear. Oh my god.

On Akechi’s ring finger was a thin silver band. Identical to the one on Kurusu’s hand--that he was now holding up beside Akechi’s.

Goro was the first to react. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Oh get over yourself,” Akechi chided, “you can quit pretending like you never--ouch !”

A sudden violent exchange under the table had Akira heavily suspecting his older self had stomped on Akechi’s foot.

Akechi glared at Kurusu. Kurusu glared right back.

“Would it kill you to be nice to yourself?”

Akechi crossed his arms. “Yes.”

“Uh,” Akira croaked, drawing everyone’s attention, “can we talk about how this happened?”

“You both probably have lots of questions,” Kurusu said, “So let’s start at the beginning. Goro, you might want to sit down for this.”

#akeshu #shuake #goro akechi #persona 5 royal #akira kurusu #goro akechi x akira kurusu #time travel

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bubblyangelics · 3 years ago

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Shovin Week 2021 Day 7: Thinking about each other (pick by me)

Kevin’s POV:

It was your average day and also average to us too because what day can be any normal or not however it was normal to us. It was the day before a school day. I was dressed up like emoish to school cause why not and this is not the first time I was dressed like that. It is just my lookish because I wanna impress Shope wearing this at least i’ll wait for her reaction.

…

So yesterday, I planned on impressing Shope with the emo clothing I have set out. “Good morning Kevin” my mom said while she was making some breakfast for me. “Good morning mom,” I told her. “Kevin, why all black what happened” she said. “Oh nothing, just my style” I answered. “All black?” my mom said. “I wanted to” I said “What you don’t accept”. “I'll let you dress that you're comfortable with,” she said. “Thanks” I said. Anyways I ate my breakfast and then brushed my teeth. I headed out the door for school and entered the building and I already saw Shope with the boys. Tyler stopped me there in front of me.

“Kevin, why are you dressed like that?” Tyler said. “Just to impress” I nervously laughed and smiled and I looked down and I saw my arms and legs shaking meaning I was actually nervous and having a panic attack which I couldn’t stand up straight meaning I was about to fall down. “Impress who?” Tyler said and I was really nervous and about to fall into the ground. “You do not need to say,” he said again.”U-uh uh I-I-I rather na-not sa-sa-say” I said while shaking and feeling like a whole emotional roller coaster. “Are you ok, Kevin, because I can tell you're nervous” Tyler said confused as he saw me shaking. “Yes I am ok” I told him. “Are you sure?” Tyler answered. “Yes” I answered him back. “Ok” he said.

Shope’s POV:

I came and I can’t believe my eyes right now. I saw Kevin in black and his whole body was shaking, meaning that there was something wrong with him. I mean I did remember that hoodie before and black pants? He wore dark blue and the same gray shoes. Cross earrings? “The new Kevin?” I thought in my head or is he changing and turning emo because I can tell by the skull face sticker he had. He was shaking. I tried to save him from falling but It was too late. Everyone stared at him and everyone thought he had a heart attack but actually he really suffered from a panic attack. Moments later, he got up and thanked god he is still alive.

“Are you ok, Kevin?” I was really worried about him. He was breathing so fast “Yes I am ok just nervous and fell down” he said. “Thank god” I answered. I gave him a big hug and I gave him a hand to help him get up from the floor. Kevin had a drink of water to keep himself hydrated and healthy.

“Shope, may I impress you” Kevin said. “Sure,” I said. “You trust me if I wear all black, right?” he said. “Yes,” I said. “Guess what, I am someone so special that impresses you all a lot right” said Kevin. “Yes I really am grateful for that” I said. “Good” he said I wore this to impress you. “I am impressed already,” I said. “Really. Ha! Thanks” Kevin said. “You're welcome to anything for someone I love” I said to him because I know he is so special. “Shope, you're special too” Kevin said with a big smile.

He impresses me all the time so this is probably a lot of times he impressed me on the side note. Why is he so dreamy? I acted really lovely in my mind thinking of him nonstop. What was my life without him? Oh! I thought about it too!

Kevin’s POV:

My head is literally in the clouds! Shope is what I can think about. I was dreaming about her all along. I was laying my head down in class and I impressed her!

My life without her? What would it be? Nothing! Just me and Shope together impressing each other. I will marry her someday when we are older. We can have kids one day and give them a great future like how our parents gave us a future that is great. When I was a newborn baby, my mom loved me and hoped for a closer friend I could have and it worked!

The stitches on my hoodie is what is somehow special to Shope. I rip it for her and what! She loves it so much!

I just do not know how to stop loving her and it is never happening. I will love her forever. And she loves me back. Our love forever!

@dailyshovin

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years ago

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TUA SHOPS / MALL AU

(This is a weird ass mall just work with me here okay)

(Oh, and did I mention they’re all staying in the mall because they’re the last humans left after the zombie apocalypse?)

(BEWARE: mentions of abuse and harassment/assault, murder, death, annihilation, zombies, implied cannibalism but that kind of comes with the territory with zombies let's be honest, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy, this will be fine for you.)

(Mechanics Shop) Luther came here after an accident left him deformed and lonely. He expects he’ll be there the rest of his life, having no other prospects to fall back on, and he actually thinks that might be alright, maybe. He likes fixing cars well enough and the donuts at Agnes’ are to die for, even if he has to pay for them with some bickering with Diego. He has a good routine - a good life. Until the zombies come to town and stay, and Allison the Fallen Angel Actress comes with them.

(Bakery) Diego took over the bakery when Agnes died. He’s been here since the first zombies came in, and sleeps around with Klaus almost every day, though they both deny feeling any sort of love for each other. (What fucking liars.) Diego wants to get the fuck out, to end it all if that’s what it takes, but his family keeps him here. And then Klaus storms off after one of their fights, and gets bitten, and Diego holds him in his arms as he fades, finally confessing that he loves him. Klaus looks at him with his wide green eyes one last time, whimpering Diego’s name, and Diego makes a split-second decision and kisses him on the mouth. And Klaus bites his lip.

(High-End Fashion) Allison was an actress who fell from grace about a week before the apocalypse. She came to stay with her brother Klaus and Ray, her childhood friend whom she’s almost laughably in love with, helped her get a job here. It’s just as well, since the zombies moved in three days later and they’ve been trapped here ever since.

(Vintage Shop) Klaus is happy to have Allison back in his life. He’s been stuck here in the mall in this weird vintage record/clothing/shoe/whatever store since he turned seventeen, hooked on drugs and going mad. He’s a brilliant inventor, but he can’t cure zombies. And he can’t cure a broken heart, which is what he’s got ever since Dave. And Diego - oh, Diego - Klaus loves him more than he thought it was possible to love another human being, and Diego - Diego - Diego is gonna leave him to save the goddamn world. Fuck, Klaus needs a drink.

(Comic Book Store) Five hates people, but he hates them even more when they’re dead. He’s crazy okay, he knows that - his best friend Dolores died in the first wave and he’s been pretending this mannequin he stole is her ever since. He buries himself in his comic books to distract himself from the doomsday sure to come soon enough, and finds solace in his family’s company - mostly Ben and Diego and Klaus. When Diego and Klaus are turned, Five is the one who has to burn their bodies… and that’s what makes him do it, really. End the world.

(Library) Ben has been researching zombies since long before they were real. One of them tried to bite him, but he dodged them, though only by leaping too close to a grenade. As he was dying from the gashes in his chest filled with shrapnel, Klaus found him and dragged him to safety inside the mall. They’d never met before that day, but now they’re partners, especially as it was one of Klaus’ wacky inventions that did and continues to save Ben’s life, implanted in his chest and keeping his lungs from being impaled by the shrapnel. Ben will always carry, both figuratively and literally, a piece of Klaus in his heart.

(Musical Shop) Vanya mostly stays in her music shop, playing violin by herself. Klaus likes to tweak all the other instruments so they play by themselves like ghosts. Vanya doesn’t let herself get bitten - but Leonard tried. And she made him pay. She spends her days with Sissy, trying to cheer up the beautiful woman she fell in love with when she first moved here… but Sissy is a shell of herself, sad and lost and lonely, and there’s nothing Vanya can do to change that, no matter how hard she tries. And she tries. So. Goddamn. Hard.

(Tech Store) Ray is just trying to get the wifi working again. He reads as many books as he can, mostly on civil rights movements and survivalist theory, but there’s not much time. If they want to send out a signal for help, someone has to brave the outside and reattach the antenna. And Ray knows, has always known, that that’s gonna be him.

(Martial Arts Studio) Lila used to be a martial arts teacher before all this shit went down. She watched her studio and students get ripped to shreds by zombies, and she could save nobody. She made it to the mall by pure luck, and is decorated in scars from scratches and attempted bites. She still practices her craft every day, training to break them out to somewhere safer. But the longer she spends here, the more she knows they’ll never make it - they’re all going to die for each other, in the end. And die for each other they do.

(Record Shop) Eudora used to be a cop. She’s always been on the side that’s moral, righteous, and good. So what’s she supposed to do now that she has to steal and kill to survive? (Make Diego do it for her, that’s how.) She’s bunkered down in the record store, blasting music throughout the mall randomly every day. She’s found out classical lulls the zombies to sleep and metal sends them running. But they always return, more feral than before. She falls so deeply in love with Lila she’s terrified to act on it, but in the end it doesn’t matter - Lila is bitten, and Eudora’s the one who has to burn her down.

(Cooking Store) Sissy is anxious and paranoid, having lost her son Harlan in the first wave of zombies. He ate her husband - not that she cared. He was a dick. But - but - her son. She drifts along like a ghost now, without him. Vanya loves her, and holds her, and takes care of her, but there’s just nothing that can be done. When the zombies finally get in, Sissy just bares her neck and gives in.

(Baby Boutique) Grace is a brilliant inventor and healer who taught Klaus everything he knows. She’s responsible for the shields and fences that keep the zombies out of the mall, and is working towards a cure for the zombie infection. Hopefully one she can dump out on the masses. She dies fighting off the zombies long enough for Ray to fix the antennae, feeling humanity slip out of her as she stares at the sun and moon, eclipsing in the distance. She figures a blind zombie is better than another seeing one.

(Evil CEO) Reginald invented the zombie serum, and he’s not sorry. It’s just a spot of fun that… got out of control, he guesses. He just had some people he needed to get rid of, and this way everyone would be focusing more on the oh-my-god-real-life-zombies part than the hold-up-were-they-murdered part. But then Ben figures it out. Reginald’s stupid, annoying, nerdy son figures it out. And what was Reginald to do? Just let him live? His Klaus-touched heart sits in Reginald’s bloody hand, and Reginald grins and shoves it in his mouth whole.

(Wedding Boutique) The Handler is that crazy bitch who wears wedding dresses every day. She always looks a bit sick, but she also always wears crazy make-up, so they just brush it off. Until one day Five catches her changing and sees the prominent bite marks all over her, proving she’s been bitten nearly six times over. She turns around and looks at him, sneers, and opens her gaping maw when he grabs a nearby candelabra and sets her hair on fire.

(Sports Store) Hazel and Cha-Cha are partners who have been here since the beginning of the apocalypse. Hazel used to be a girls’ soccer coach and Cha-Cha ran the boys’ football team at the same high school, but that’s all over now. Hazel’s been fucked up since Agnes died (only of natural causes. Ha!) and Cha-Cha’s seen her zombie walking around since then. She makes it her mission to shoot it down before Hazel sees it, and manages - but the two of them still go out in a blaze of glory together, sacrificing themselves to take out a horde of the undead just days before the mall falls.

(Woodworking Shop) Leonard got bitten in the third wave, just before entering the mall. He made it a week before they found out. He tried to bite Vanya and she pitched him over the side of the terrace. They use the logs from his wood shop to kill zombies who get too close, setting them on fire and hurling them into the masses.

(Thrift Shop) Dave was travelling with Klaus, the two of them rather involved, and got bitten just before he and Klaus made it to safety. Klaus had to kill him and has been depressed about it ever since, setting Dave’s body to rest in the thrift shop where Klaus does all his experiments. Five and Grace use the body as a test subject, but Klaus doesn’t need to know that. When he figures out how to make a zombie-killing nuke, he lays the button down with Dave, hoping they’ll never have to use it since it will most certainly destroy the world along with all the zombies. The last human left alive runs from the zombies towards the button. He presses it. The zombies close in, Five shuts his eyes, and the planet explodes into nothing.

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only-here-for-jatp · 4 years ago

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The Secret Chord pt 3

I am very thrilled with my poetic serious title and my chaotic mess of chapter titles that don’t do the title justice.

Anyway this entire chapter is Nick-centric and contains some negative self-talk so if you have difficulty with that (like I do) proceed with caution and stay safe and okay pretty please.

Also, we stan Carrie in this house thanks.

Read it on Ao3 here

And also below! ~2100 words

Nick was pretty sure this was a terrible idea.

It’d seemed like a great idea last night when he was watching Julie and the Phantoms at the Orpheum. The music was loud, and the crowd was electric. The bass kept up a steady rhythm pounding in sync with his heartbeat and it joined the audience into one body perfectly in sync. He’d felt so alive as if all of his nerve endings were firing at once. His joy came out as an endless ache while he watched Julie perform her heart out, her own enthusiasm evident in every note and movement.

She shone so bright on that stage, more so than anyone he’d ever seen. He’d long since known of her grit and determination, the perks of being in school together since elementary school. Over the years he watched as the little girl with the big voice and no fear stood up to bullies, teachers, and during what came to be known as Fallout 2016 her (ex)friend Carrie.

Julie held her head up so high as she walked through the hallways and he was in awe of her even then. There were still some things he was still working out about himself and she was so unapologetically herself. He’d often wished for her bravery to be that strong.

At the same time, he watched Carrie struggle to keep her head above water. Her dad loved her, but he was absentminded and often off on the road or some tour or party or something, leaving Carrie alone in that big empty house. Before there’d been the joy and laughter of Julie and Flynn echoing in the hallways, but now she sat alone in her thoughts.

It was almost imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know Carrie, after all she’d always been a little rough around the edges, but Nick watched her harsh mask develop. He watched her use deflection and bravado to hide her fraying internal state. Nobody seemed to notice her growing intensity and focus on Dirty Candi, but it seemed like someone needed to do something.

Admittedly his feelings crept up on him. At first, he’d started small interactions as a friendly gesture. Little things like a smile or a wave so he could try to communicate somebody saw her. While she seemed a little confused at first, she soon started flashing him a smirk and a friendly sarcastic comment. Rather quickly their friendship grew, it turned into long conversations at lunch or studying together in the library. What started out as concern turned to pride and warmth as he watched this girl who hurt so much use her unwavering force of will (and a little pink glitter) to get up and meet each day with a take no prisoners attitude.

Once he saw her perform for the first time, he was a goner. That little smirk just did something to his insides. He asked her out and he was happy. They were happy.

Until Julie’s mom died. Whatever fallout might have happened between her and Julie, Carrie loved Rose. She’d been the closest thing Carrie ever had to a mother, and the loss hit her hard. Nick knew Julie would’ve granted her a temporary truce and welcomed Carrie with open arms to grieve. He was even pretty sure Carrie knew deep inside herself somewhere too, but the walls she’d built were too high and too wide to bring them down.

Nick did his best to be there for Carrie, but he knew he wasn’t what she needed. She needed Julie and the Molinas, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not yet. Instead her unresolved feelings ate at her morphing into jealousy and anger and acid. He watched this beautiful typhoon of a girl let the acid and anger consume her. Defenses and walls started going up against him too, until she treated him as little more than an accessory or a chess piece in her one-sided match against Julie Molina.

Beautiful burning Julie Molina who after a year of retreating into a cocoon, hiding from the world and her pain burst onto the stage like a firework. She maintained her grace and inner fortitude whatever the world, or Carrie, threw her way. Above all else though, she was kind. After months of being treated like a doormat, he craved the kindness and gentle protective ferocity that was Julie Molina.

He knew he followed her around like a lost puppy, but even if he couldn’t be with her just being around her made him feel like he could do anything. Be anything, even himself. Her music lived and breathed inside him, the words filling him up and offering him a lifeline when he didn’t even know how close he was to drowning.

He ached to return the favor of her steady reassurance and unconditional acceptance and support. She was incredible and she deserved to know. If he could emulate her even just a little bit, he wanted to try, wanted to practice being like Julie Molina.

Of course, this was how he found himself pacing the sidewalk for twenty minutes, gathering the courage to bring her these flowers. It shouldn’t be this hard. Flowers were a regular post-performance kind of gift. I mean, he did have a crush on her, but she seemed to be into her guitarist? Would she think he was creepy or weird or persistent? He didn’t want to scare her off. Maybe this was a bad idea. He probably didn’t have a shot with someone as incredible as her anyway. He’d like to think he stood a chance since her guitarist was a hologram, but the way they looked at each other….

What did it matter? These flowers were not crush flowers. He would’ve gotten her Dahlias for that. These were simply good job flowers. They’d performed at the Orpheum! That was a big deal. This is fine. This is normal.

A small burst of confidence propelled him forward while he gave himself a mental pep talk in his head. Later he would kick himself for not being more aware of his surroundings, but to be fair no one really expects a tall, mysterious demon man to sneak up behind them.

Yet here he was staring at this man in some steam punk adjacent costume, a smug plastic grin on his face and a mildly threatening atmosphere. He’d rang the doorbell, but he hoped Julie didn’t walk out here while this creep was still around.

“How sweet. The brokenhearted teenager fighting for his girl.”

Nick was taken aback. For one thing, brokenhearted was not the right word. He was hopeful. For another- “Do I know you?”

“No, but you will.”

Nick didn’t even have a chance to react before Caleb’s hands were around his neck. It felt like fire was racing through his veins, consuming him. He couldn’t move, his arms spread wide, but his insides struggled against the invasion. Thrashing and shrieking he screamed inside his mind.

It started in his fingertips and toes, his body feeling like it was too crowded. Like something was growing and pushing him out. He fought so hard trying to stretch and stand up to the purple smoke that was blinding and dividing him. Yet he was losing the battle with every moment. Feeling himself getting shoved and squeezed until he couldn’t feel his arms or his legs or the breaths he took or the beating of his own heart. Until he couldn’t feel the weight of his own tongue.

The world went quiet first. Then it went dark.

Nick came to in a room of boundless dark. He thought about being afraid, but it wasn’t a place where things lurked. He could tell it was just empty. A brief glance showed that he could see himself, slightly translucent maybe, but still there. The space seemed to go on forever and the longer he looked the more anxious he became. His eyes darted from space to space, but it was a never-ending sea of nothingness.

A voice echoed around him, making the world rumble and shake. “Now now, Nicholas. My name is Caleb and it’s nice to meet you.”

“Who are you!? What do you want!? Where am I!?” Nick shouted at the disembodied voice, hearing the fear and trembling in his tone and wishing desperately for the confidence and bravado typically attributed to jocks. What he wasn’t prepared for was the jolt that through him.

The pain stabbed in his gut and it felt like it was ripping him open, piece by piece. He fell to his knees with a scream, doing his best not to sob as the feeling lingered. Caleb laughed before continuing. “tsk tsk tsk. I am speaking, you just need to listen. I am… borrowing your body for the time being. This little lifer girl and her trio of ghostly boy band made a fool of me. And NOBODY defies my will and gets away with it.”

“What does that have to do with- aghhhh” Nick couldn’t hide the sobs as another jolt shot through him.

“Yeah, I’m going to need you to be a fast learner Nicky-poo. I’m in charge and there’s literally nothing you can do about it. Just sit there and be quiet and maybe I’ll return your body back in one piece. Besides you may not know what I’m talking about, but you’re close with that lifer brat Julie. Her ghosties would never let me get close, you on the other hand, well they can’t stop you.”

Nick felt icy terror roll through him. Julie? This madman demon was after Julie? “No” he wheezed. He kept repeating the word as if it would give him power as he progressively got louder until he was standing and screaming it into the void, damn the consequences. “NO. I won’t let you hurt her.”

Another jolt ripped through him as an invisible force knocked him back. The laughter seemed to echo around the space reverberating into an endless mocking loop. “You? You won’t let me? What exactly are you going to do Nicholas? After all, you couldn’t even defend yourself against me. What makes you think you’re capable of doing anything at this point to stop my plans?”

Nick sagged against the ground. There wasn’t anything he could do. His insides felt hollowed out as hopelessness descended upon him. Useless. He was absolutely useless.

“There you go! Now you’re getting it. Anyway, this is the inside of your head and it can be manipulated into whatever I want. Behave and I’ll make sure it’s somewhat comfortable, continue to fight and defy me and I’ll make sure you relive your worst nightmares. Got it?”

Nick nodded, curling up on himself in defeat. If only he’d stayed home today.

“Good, now I just need to borrow your memories real quick and we can get this show on the road. After all, I have a fight too.”

It felt like someone was slicing his brain into pages and flipping through it like you would a book or a deck of cards. He’d grabbed his head at the pain and briefly resisted before giving into the feeling. It was almost like he could feel the fingers turning through the pages. Flipping through his life as if it were nothing. As if he were nothing. He hoped Caleb got a cosmic papercut.

And then for a brief shining moment there was nothing. No Caleb, no jolts, no rummaging through his psyche, no noise. No world. Unfortunately, what looked like a big screen popped up in front of him. Was that the Molina’s house? Were these his eyes? He almost couldn’t watch as Julie opened the door. Then there he was again. Alone in the dark vastness of nothing. He let out an empty laugh. Of course, he was. That was him, always alone. Always hiding. Unable to make any true impact on the lives of the people around him. He’d failed to help Carrie battle her darkness and Julie certainly never needed him.

He wondered briefly if anyone would even notice if he was gone. If anyone would even realize this thing that occupied his body was using him like a puppet. He doubted it. No one ever managed to make it past his walls. No one ever viewed him as more than as that blonde lacrosse player, or Carrie’s boyfriend.

He was as unseen and unheard in here as he was for every other moment of his life.

The disembodied voice never said anything, but Nick was sure he could feel Caleb roll his eyes and mutter “teenagers”. Suddenly a couch poofed into existence and Nick settled into it, finding it oddly comforting. He curled himself around a pillow that he’d dragged into his lap, ready to watch his life spin out of his control.

#jatp #Julie and the Phantoms #Jatp fanfic #The Secret Chord #Nickaleb

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kimberly-spirits13 · 5 years ago

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For Wandering Dreamers (Bonus Story & Not Technically Part of the Series Just Same Universe It’ll Make Sense)

Synopsis: You had a chance to watch Spoilers for Justice League Dark Apokolips War and it ended it angst and fluff

Notes: This is taken from the same concept as my For Wandering Dreamers series and is just what would happen if you watched the movie in that set universe since you still have access to your old phone. This is also a bit angsty at the beginning and fluff at the end.

Warnings: Spoilers for Justice League Dark Apokolips War, language

Word Count: 1770

You were sitting on your bed in Wayne Manor, phone in hand, now connected to your computer. It was the release day of the new movie back home where you were from and you were pumped for the movie. The only issue for you was seeing Damian and Raven together on screen what with you dating him and all. It was a bit weird but you weren’t going to let that stop you from watching the movie.

Damian was going out for patrol and had just left. You didn’t really know how violent this movie would be but there were rumors that it would be pretty hardcore. It was just a movie though, and you were sure to teleport into a universe that wasn’t as... doomed as Flashpoint.

Damian walked out of the room after one last kiss before you started up the movie and sat back to embark on whatever was supposed to happen. You watched as the movie started getting kind of intense.

“A bit early dontcha think DC?” You muttered arms crossed.

The film continued and eventually you stumbled across some of the bloodiest and most violent scenes that you’d ever witnessed. Would it have kind of messed you up watching it without knowing that this stuff was real? Yes. But now, knowing that this thing really happened, it hurts in a new kind of way.

You watched as your favorite heroes died one by one. It was the most antagonizing thing that you’d ever seen in so long. Babs, eaten alive, Hawkman having his wings ripped off, it was like watching everyone that had raised you as a kid be killed off one by one. It broke you seeing what happened to the heroes as the casualties started sky rocketing. What really made you sick was the Titans dying.

Star was split in half, her blood everywhere and spine showing through, Conner’s neck was snapped and then you saw it, Dick being stabbed to death. The sound made you feel queasy you felt sick to your stomach and then your heart dropped when the parademon saw Damian. You felt tears well in your eyes on anticipation only breathing when he was just knocked into the water seeing as there was a chance of his survival.

It was hard going on, but know you were glued to the screen watching in anticipation of what was to happen. Eventually after sticking your nose up to what you knew as the DamiRae parts of the movie in jealousy, you got to one of the last battles. It was Damian vs Bruce and you knew it was not going to be pretty. If there was anything that you would never show him besides this entire movie, it was going to be this part and you knew it. You grimaced at the words that Bruce said. They echoed in your mind, his voice sticking there for a few seconds. “Your mother mentally broke me.” He continued, “You’re a burden.”

“Damn B, I know you’re brainwashed and crap but what happened to Batdad?” You said getting a bit mad at the dialogue.

After a little while, you watched in absolute horror as Damian jumped in front of Bruce. You were at a loss of words watching him shrivel into what looked like an ancient version of himself. Words clumped into the back of your throat as you started to cry hearing Raven screaming and then the climax of the movie hitting. It was terrible seeing him like that. You didn’t stop crying when he was revived either, you didn’t stop until the end of the movie where finally you went to the bathroom for a second.

Damian wasn’t due to be home for a bit. It was an amazing movie, but seriously? You thought you’d be sick seeing the outcomes of Dick and everyone else. Yes, Flash would hopefully fix everything running into the Speed Force, but it costed everything. You went to the shelf in your bedroom, grabbing your character guide to flip through it. Tears only really came for those with the worst deaths. You didn’t know what happened to some of the characters but you were sure it either wasn’t good, or they weren’t in the movie at all. It was weird seeing everyone in this light and really didn’t affect you too terribly until you thought of Diana. She was the mother you never had and your childhood hero. Watching her become this cyborg version of herself, losing everything was something you didn’t take well.

You flipped the page to her four pages and cried looking down at the now broken hero, seeing her in a whole new way of defeat and near death. You didn’t realize how much time had passed when you got a knock on the door and a voice that was certainly Damian’s.

“Beloved?” He asked before you said he could come in, “Are you alrig-“

Damian stopped dead in his tracks looking at your tear stained face with much concern and then saw the book open in your hands and the black screen of your laptop, it turning off automatically.

“What happened?” He asked scooping you into his arms and sitting on your bed.

“E-everyone d-died.” You choked up, “A-and Diana, she, I just, she was completely broken." “Y-you...” You trailed off not wanting to continue, the look on your face being very evident too Damian that that was the case.

“Y/N, it doesn’t happen here, you know that. It was you who told me that this kind of thing would have already happened since it just got made into a movie.” Damian said, “Everyone is fine.” “I’m fine, I’m here with you, and you’re fine.”

You looked up at him and shut the book before deleting the file of the movie, “Do not go watching that Damian.”

“I won’t beloved, you have my word.” Damian promised tucking you two in and shutting off the lamp, “Remember, I’ll always be right here with you. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said not falling asleep as quickly as typical.

It was a few hours later when a dream came on about the movie. You were there in some kind of clear box watching from afar. Damian was bleeding looking up at Bruce before it forwarded more and you saw the league in ruins once more. Damian was strapped into a machine and you were trying to get to him. There was no use in this however. He looked at you and pleaded for help before suddenly, without a moment’s notice, he shriveled into the grey corpse you had seen him in previously.

“Y/N! Beloved wake up!” Damian was shaking you awake gently before you shot up, sweat covering your face and tears starting to stream down your face as you latched onto Damian, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

“You’re okay Y/N, it was just a dream.” Damian said tenderly.

“Please don’t stop talking.” You whimpered feeling him start to trace patterns ono your back as he started talking again, his hot breath dancing on your shoulder.

“My love, when we first met I couldn’t believe that you were from a different universe.” Damian chuckled some, “To think you were so accustomed to Gotham and fought that man with such pride, I could have thought you had lived here your entire life. After I- you took me back to the cave, I thought you would have demanded to become a vigilante along with the rest of us.” “I’m glad that you didn’t, it makes me feel better knowing that you’re safe but can also handle yourself at any given time. I’m so sorry that you had to see what you did in this kind of context.”

His touch became still on your back before he took a long, drawn out sigh as if he was thinking about what he was going to say, “I love you like I love the stars, they are a small light of mystery and beauty in this world.” He smiled some kissing your shoulder.

“I love you like the ocean, your thoughts and it infinitely deep and everchanging.” He kissed your other shoulder.

“I love you like I love stories, complex and an escape from reality.” He kissed your jaw.

“You are my sun, the light of my life.” He kissed your other cheek”

“You’re my rest and comfort” He kissed the tip of your nose, “My first love, not just a meaningless relationship.” He kissed your forehead, “My eyes, seeing the beauty in the world.” He then kissed your eye and smiled as you grinned some, “You are my beauty, something that I adore every day.” He lightly kissed your other eye.

“But most importantly,” Damian paused as you opened your eyes some, “You are my last love, my beloved, and my entire world.” This time he pulled you in for a real kiss, something that felt like it lasted for days or even centuries.

“I love you Damian.” You smiled as he fell back onto the pillow, taking you down with him and holding you closely still to his chest as you literally laid on top of him.

“I love you Y/N.” He smiled running his fingers through your hair and fell asleep quickly after you did.

You awoke from your sleep, light pouring into the bedroom.

“Good morning beloved.” You heard Damian mutter, a smile in his voice now with an accent.

“Good morning Dami.” You replied yawning some.

“Did you sleep well after everything?” He questioned running his fingers through your hair.

“I did, thank you.” You laughed, “That is the last time I watch that movie.”

“I’m glad you’re doing better, it sounded like a terrible thing to see what with now knowing it’s relevancy.” He explained, an arm still wrapped tightly around your waste as he sat up.

You laid in his lap before sitting up, facing him. You were straddling him, your feet pressing against his hips but only because you had socks on. He kissed you lightly smiling into it. You laid your head on his chest and sighed.

“Last night felt like a fever dream.” He chuckled at your comment.

“I assure you beloved, it was not a dream.” Damian said, “The good parts especially weren’t.”

“I’m glad for that.” You smiled, “Anyways, we should probably get breakfast now.”

“But what if we stayed in bed?” He asked.

“What if we quickly ate something and had a relaxing weekend?” You asked.

“That sounds wonderful.” Damian said as you guys got up to head downstairs and start your weekend.

#Damian Wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #Damian Wayne x y/n #dc comics #dc x reader #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #robin x y/n #robin #robin x reader #justice league #for wandering dreamers series

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 5 years ago

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Bad Vegetarian | Feeding Habits #1

Hey People of Earth!

As you can see from the title, not only do we have a new series of writing updates, we have a new series of writing updates for a whole new novel that was! not! supposed! to! happen!

For any of my friends who miss Moth Work (aka myself), guess who started writing a sequel literally no one asked. :)

I’ve had ideas for spinoff stories for Moth Work (as if MW wasn’t enough of a spinoff) and was peer pressured into starting this novel by @sarahkelsiwrites and I’m really happy about it! I have yet to come up with a title, but the moment I do, shall inform you, but for now, we’re calling this MW2!

This book (if it even ends up being a book) starts with chapter one, Bad Vegetarian. Unlike MW, MW2 starts in Lonan’s POV (not sure I’ll switch but I’m sure it’ll be inevitable), and I’m here for it!

I’ve been wanting to explore Lonan and Eliza’s relationship in more detail since having them come together in MW by complete fluke, and oh! is the tea piping!

This chapter really illustrates how truly dysfunctional this relationship is on both sides. Here’s a break down by scene:

Scene A:

Lonan is paint shopping with Eliza who has just gone vegetarian (which is the def the most normal thing she’s spontaneously done lately). Eliza feels like celebrating by painting their entire kitchen red.

Lonan particularly is drawn to blues, but since this ain’t what Eliza wants, they go with a brilliant red.

Scene B:

Lonan lines the kitchen with painter’s tape as Eliza bothers their neighbours for paint rollers, while trying to convince himself this relationship is still somewhat okay.

While doing this, he gets his weekly call from Unknown Woman who he’s been in contact with for the last few weeks. What for? We don’t know! They talk in code, and he realizes Unknown Woman’s situation is getting worse, and impromptu, tries to do something about it.

Scene C:

Lonan and Eliza bump into each other as he’s exiting the apartment and she’s entering, and have a short, strained conversation about why he’s leaving (she’s not aware of top secret phone calls that make this book feel lowkey like the old dystopians!)

Scene D:

Lonan attempts to drive to Unknown Woman but only knows she lives in Arizona (not great for directions lol). While in the car, he realizes it’s essentially impossible to get there without knowing where he’s going, and eventually gives up and heads home.

Scene E:

TW: blood

Lonan re-enters the apartment only to find Eliza “bleeding” in the kitchen. She’s actually just being wild and this “blood” is wall paint.

Scene F:

If we haven’t already seen the dysfunction, oh does it get worse! As Lonan and Eliza try to have a *moment* Eliza has a conversation by herself and gets a lil gaslighty.

Halfway through this, Lonan gets a phone call from Unknown Woman who we finally find out is his ex-girlfriend Glenne. Sounds like tea but he’s genuinely only helping her out of her toxic situation (which will be clarified later) though Eliza’s skeptical.

This chapter was a lot of fun to write! I wrote a majority of it today, and am really happy to have a *chill* project. While I love my other books (the three I am apparently now working on at once), it’s nice to have a place to dump my ideas with characters I know very well in situations I’m comfortable in whenever I feel like writing but don’t have tons of time/ideas/energy.

Excerpts:

Here are the opening three paragraphs! The first sentence sets up the POV a little weirdly, but I think it works with a later sentence that sort of mimics this “reminder” kind of style:

There are no rules, just remember, Eliza is vegetarian. She’s into earth tones, neutral tones, leafy greens, root vegetables. It’s all new. The day she announced her diet change, she also announced a desire to repaint the kitchen, to fit the new aura, to fit the new ethics, but she wants to paint the kitchen blood red, and Lonan is still a meat-eater. He reminds himself: there are no rules, just remember, Eliza is vegetarian.

In the hardware store he thumbs paint chips. They’re set up in an array, almost like checkers, dissolving in a gradient from reds to purples. Eliza wants red, “Not necessarily earthy, but the root of organism, of life,” so Lonan looks at the blues. They’re all a variant of a seaside theme—Sea Breeze, a cloud-like blue, Beach Umbrella, a wispy aqua, Seafoam Serenade, muted like the soft side of a turquoise. Repainting the kitchen matters little to him, and so do the blues, but the red section, devilish, makes him shuffle his blue deck faster.

Radio from the store’s intercom tins through the speakers, dampened by the hustle of carts, the thud of bodies against the concrete flooring. He holds many cards up to the light, Secret Getaway and Parisian Summer almost the exact shade, but still he flicks through, until half the pile is indistinguishable, and the other half are blues he likes and not reds, like Eliza’s asked.

The next excerpt sort of highlights the last six months of Lonan’s life as he’s been on this whirlwind of keeping up with all the things Eliza has tried. I have added kudzu pudding and other kudzu food just for my pals @sarahkelsiwrites and @shaelinwrites (rlly want kudzu pudding):

Her sudden vegetarianism is not confusing to him. Eliza tries new things all the time, something he’s learned after living with her for half a year. One time, she brought home four different kinds of dried beans to make into tea, and together they drank it atop the balcony, the Vegas strip across them somehow tasting better. One time, they ate a variety of kudzu foods for a week because Eliza said invasive species had to be killed somehow, and so they spooned kudzu pudding into their mouths, kudzu root powder into their water, kudzu salads with salted almonds. One time, she put them on a warmth ban, and they ate only frozen peas, potatoes, raspberries, turned the thermostat down until every surface crackled. She liked the feeling of subtle frost on the countertops, how it jolted her when she touched it accidentally in the morning. He found her many mornings awake before him, transfixed to the table with both palms soldered to its surface, like she’d forgotten she wasn’t a part of it. One time, she paid to have the furniture in the house rearranged, not good enough for her spirit, and then reverted it two days later. “The couch doesn’t like being so close to the refrigerator,” and he could’ve asked “did you ask it?” but said, “Understandable. It shouldn’t be forced to catch a draft.” So her vegetarianism is normal. Already, she’s switched their meat supply to beetroots, chickpeas, tofu she rips apart bare-handed. For the last three mornings, they’ve both taken a shot of spinach and gingerroot, a liquid that burns to make you feel alive, as if you weren’t already.

The next excerpts kind of surprised me with their amount of humour! Not something I expect from Lonan, but I’m glad he has some sass back lol (CW: some upsetting animal imagery):

There is nothing wrong in this relationship. Everything is Eliza’s new favourite adjective—stunning. Everything is scrubbed with kitchen bleach, glittering like a plasticky pool float in the shallow end, stunning. Everything is planned, put in a calendar, a notebook, a flitter of receipts, but always planned, stunning. Everything is better, even better than better, a better that can only be described as stunning.

Lonan uses this word frequently now, rolling out a strip of blue painter’s tape and trying to find different ways it stuns. Sticks when he sticks, peels when he peels, keeps its edge when it needs to keep its edge, so it’s stunning. The bubble television is turned onto a channel about sheep, and as he lines the baseboards, outlets, catches glances of a sheer buzzing against skin, sometimes a hunting knife slicing until there’s blood.

Eliza is asking a neighbour for paint rollers because they bought four cans of wall paint, two paint trays, a box of garbage bags, three rolls of painter’s tape, and a small paintbrush each for both of them but forgot the rollers. Stunning.

The following excerpt highlights that Lonan has a cellphone! Is Fostered just a bizarre alternate reality of a time period that doesn’t exist? Perhaps! (CW: some upsetting animal imagery):

Today, they’ll prime the cabinets, the walls, and tomorrow, scroll a coat of red onto both. The kitchen will look more like the inside of an anatomical heart, the sinks and drawers like ventricles, but this is Eliza’s vision—her tastes come alive.

The sheep are being herded by a collie. As Lonan rips another strip of tape with his teeth, he stares at the screen mounted in the corner, at the almost-naked sheep dashing across a field. How many will be slaughtered, he doesn’t know. The narrator must’ve said that, but there is no plan, really, for death. Even for sheep.

He kneels toward the kitchen vent, the tape roll linked around his wrist, and smooths a line of tape down. Eliza doesn’t want to paint the vent—it wouldn’t complete her vision—and so it will remain the original wall colour, a square of cream so worn, it’s almost grey.

Here we have some hints at Eliza’s weirdness:

He straightens and looks at her. She’s bundled in her fur coat even though she has always insisted she’s good at even Vegas’ warm winter. Since going vegetarian, she’s insisted it’s fake, even though he’s read the lining tag—100% mink. He doesn’t know why she’s needed her coat when she’s only walked up a few flights of stairs but doesn’t care to ask.

She approaches him with her thumb out, and when that thumb presses into his eye socket, he flinches.

“What happened here?” she smooths the dip of his under eyes, her fingertips cold. He smells her perfume, different today, always different, a smell like cloves and lavender. “Are you sleeping?” She presses onto her toes, examines the other side, and her frown deepens. “This doesn’t look like eight hours.”

“I’m sleeping,” he says, though they both know this is a lie. It’s taken her two weeks to notice.

“I can run to the pharmacy,” she says. “If you need a refill.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“I didn’t notice this morning—I would’ve given you another energy shot.”

Here’s a line I like because of a) skin and b) sun:

Lonan goes nowhere. This is not his plan. Asphalt whips under the skin of each tire, the setting sun wringing him blind.

Fully sharing this for the verb zags (and also because I accidentally roast cities tho I love them I am one of these blink-less people):

He doesn’t know where he’s going. Arizona is the only thing he knows about her, doesn’t know if she lives in an apartment, a duplex, a house—fully detached, semi-detached. As he pulls into a residential neighbourhood somewhere along the vague line he’s drawn on the map from Las Vegas to Arizona, he watches for all these options. In the distance, a jogger zags across the street with her golden retriever, children play basketball on a driveway, still in their school uniforms, another woman clips the wilted stems off a magnolia bush.

It’s when he gets closer to the apartments that the sameness is noticeable. High-rises with pearlescent windows that go pinkish in the sunset—all of them identical. Each building evenly spaced, more like a board game than a place to live. Even the space around each building is the same—the same rose hedges, the same iron fence, the same people bustling in and out, all wearing some variation of the same pantsuit, all holding some other hand—child, partner, lover. The same haircuts, smiles, eyes like marbles, as if there’s a store somewhere that sells copies, a catalogue for eyes that don’t blink. He’s been looking into the sun for too long, there must be a difference, but the longer he looks, the more indistinguishable they become.

To get out of explaining where he wants to go when he and Eliza bump into each other, Lonan says he’s visiting his sister (Reeve), and because she’s iconic and must make an appearance, here’s a line ft. our queen:

He could make the lie true. Reeve is somewhere in the country, he imagines, dancing in a faceless city, living in a motel room, tipping everyone well.

(^^ all true)

Here we have Lonan identifying with the animals more than anything else for the second time in one chapter (TW for more blood imagery):

Lonan hooks the car keys onto the lanyard by the front door and slings his coat across the couch. The television is set to the same channel as before, though the program has switched from sheep slaughter to birdwatching. On screen, a heron perches by a riverbed, opalescent in the sunshine.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, the heron now frisking up the white bark of a tree. He glances at the fluorescent red dripping between her fingers, pattering against the tile.

“I was opening the paint cans.”

“With a kitchen knife?”

He gestures to the blade on the counter, blood-free, newly sharpened.

“It’s all I had on hand.” She pulls her wrist closer to her, runs her index finger along the injured area.

“It’s clean.”

“I washed it, Lonan.”

This next one has some blood imagery so TW for that!

The heron has moved closer to the riverbed. It watches the water knowingly, its subtle simmer of movement, and after a moment of watching, strikes its beak down so it spears a trout. He misses the part where it eats. Eliza’s clicked off the TV from behind him.

She slams the remote onto the counter so hard, its back clatters off and onto the tile. “I cut my arm with a kitchen knife while opening paint cans. It happens.”

“I don’t see a cut.”

“Why would I make that up?”

“I don’t see a cut.”

She walks toward him. He expects her to shove her wrist in his face, but she doesn’t. She just holds it, some of the blood fluorescing pink, splashes onto her toes.

“You got to see your sister?” she asks.

“She cancelled.”

Eliza clucks her tongue, examining her wrist, and then she extends her arm, revealing the full patch of pale skin gone red.

Lonan takes it, and with his fingernail carves a line through the red to reveal the healthy patch of skin, painted, uncut.

And finally, here’s the last line of this excerpt that essentially explains where the title comes from ft. predator VS prey symbolism:

He’s reminded once more of the heron, how it plunged into the riverbed with ease, and the trout dangling in its beak, its commitment to life most fervent the moment before being consumed.

So that’s going to be it for this update! I don’t know how frequently I’ll be writing this, but it’s been a lot of fun so far. I’m excited to explore more relationships I haven’t turned over in a while as a little side project while I do other things! Hope y’all enjoyed!

--Rachel

#writing #amwriting #writeblr #writerblr #writingupdates #mothwork #fostered #feedinghabits

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

Text

Gifted

Title: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 54/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die. Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

You spent the next two days straight researching with Fury and Tony, trying to find any sign of where Balder could be hiding Loki. Your power was draining through the soulbond at an alarming rate and you were getting desperate to find Loki before it was too late. You ate everything in sight, trying to keep your strength up and fuel yourself so you could fuel the soulbond. You apologized to Loki one day after you brewed coffee with one of Tony’s energy drinks instead of water and dumped in crushed up caffeine pills in and sugar. You felt your heart skip about three beats when you downed that ungodly mixture and power flared in the soulbond. Fury sent a memo out that no one else on the team was to ever attempt to make monster-coffee. You drank three more pots of the stuff before the ordeal was over.

You spent free moments on top of the tower, casting out your magic and senses for Loki, or signs of Balder’s shields.

You had no luck.

You expected to hear from Balder. He wanted you to come to him. Why hadn’t he contacted you? You couldn’t go save Loki, if you didn’t know where he was.

The morning of the fifth day, you were desperate for answers and made a desperate move. “Tony, don’t stop me,” you told him firmly. You were in the commonroom right after breakfast. “I’ll explain what I’m doing after. I promise that I know what I’m doing,” you told him. He growled, but nodded. It was never good when you told him you’d explain something after you did it. You pulled a dagger, apologized silently to Frigga, and sliced open your right palm.

“Kat!” Tony exclaimed, protesting your blood being spilled.

You ignored him and placed your bleeding palm against the soulbond marks on your left arm. You felt the power flare and followed the pulse to Loki’s mind at the other end. /Loki!/ you called when your mind finally found his. You got a vague idea of where he was.

/Kat?/ he asked. His voice sounded so weak and pained.

/I’m here. We’re trying to find you. I swear we’re coming. Just hang on/ you told him urgently. He couldn’t give up. If he gave up you would both die. /Can you tell me anything about where you are?/

/I have seen nothing besides the room I am chained in/ he replied, so tired, so weak. You could hear how bruised and broken he was. What the hell had Balder done to him? Didn’t he care at all about his brother? You poured strength and healing magic down the soulbond.

/No matter. We’ll find you/

/No. Do not come here. He will kill you, or worse/

/He can’t kill me without killing you/ you reminded him. /We’re coming for you, my love. I will not abandon you. We are in this together. Forever/

/No, darling. He will kill you to keep you from helping me. He doesn’t care about keeping either of us alive. No, do not interrupt, my darling/ he said urgently before you could do just that. You had to interrupt, to get him down off the ledge. /I am just sorry that I could not marry you. I am glad that I got to talk to you one last time/

/No! Don’t give up. Don’t you fucking dare give up. I will find you and I will get you out of there. We’re coming for you, I swear to you, Loki. I swear on the soulbond, on everything I am that I am coming for you. Please, just hold on a little longer/

/I love you too/ was all he answered.

You felt the destructive force of power, the backlash as you were thrown back into your own body. you howled in pain as you felt your soul literally ripped in two. Tony was holding you while you screamed and cried, while your heart, your soul, your very being was ripped in half. You wailed in pain as half of you was lost, torn away.

“Kat? Kat?! What the hell just happened?” Tony demanded when you finally got your breathing under control, when you could finally stop screaming long enough for him to get through to you. You looked down at the soulbond marks on your arm. They were gray under the smear of your blood. Tony wrapped a bandage around your sluggishly bleeding palm and cleaned the blood from your other arm.

Loki had done it.

He had broken the soulbond.

“He broke the soulbond. Balder is killing him. He broke the soulbond to save my life,” you told Tony with no emotion in your voice. You didn’t have any emotions left to give.

“Kat…” Tony said softly, pulling you into his arms, trying to comfort you.

You shoved him away, hard, focusing on what you had to do. You had to save Loki. You had to save him now. You were out of time. “I know where he is,” you told Tony as you stood. Pepper had joined you. Good. You needed all of the help you could get. “There’s a lot to do and not enough time. You have a choice, Uncle Tony. Either you help me now, or you get the fuck out of my way. I will save him whether you help me or not,” you told him firmly, plans forming in an instant. You were out of time, so you had to go with whatever half-assed plan you could come up with.

You felt for your magic, finding that you still had the magic Loki had given you when the soulbond was forged. You would figure out why you still had that power later, after you had saved Loki. For now, you were just grateful. You would need every ounce of it now. You used magic to don your armor, combat boots, extra weapons and all.

“What do you need?” Tony asked immediately. He wasn’t going to stand in your way.

You gave him a small smile. “I need blood, and for you never to tell Frigga what I am about to do. Or about what I did when I cut my palm,” you added. Frigga was never to know that you and Loki knew some blood magic, or worse that you used it. “If you don’t want to, fine, I’ll do it myself, consequences be damned.” You didn’t care if you drained every single drop of power you had. You were saving Loki’s life.

Tony still hesitated. “I’ll do it,” Pepper volunteered, offering you her hand. You could have kissed her for her kindness.

“Thank you,” you told her, relieved beyond measure. You pulled a dagger and sliced her palm quickly. You waited for a moment, gathering her blood on your dagger, then flung the blood off toward the far wall while saying the final words of the portal spell, forcing it open with only a touch of your power. Pepper’s blood was powering it. “Pepper stay here. Uncle Tony, with me,” you ordered, not being exactly polite to your uncle. You could apologize to him later. You summoned your tiara from Asgard, placed it carefully, grabbed Tony’s hand and led him to the portal.

There wasn’t enough time.

The portal opened in front of the throne room in Asgard. You dropped Tony’s hand the moment you were through the portal and proceeded to make your way into the throne room, leaving the portal open. You prayed to all of the gods that the people you needed were in the throne room where you needed them. You didn’t have time to hunt them down. Frigga had seen at least some of this, you knew. She had warned you the time was coming for you to need the soulbond ceremony words.

The time was now.

You strode confidently into the throne room and straight up to the thrones. The other petitioners jumped to get out of your way, scattering to the far walls. No one here had seen you in your armor. They were used to seeing you in the dresses of their world, as Loki’s darling soulbond and nothing more. They were seeing the violent side of you today. They were a warrior people. They understood. Tony followed behind you in guard position, letting you take the lead.

You knelt in front of the thrones, thanking all the gods that, Frigga, Thor, Sif, and Astrid, leader of the female warriors, were somehow all there where you needed them. “My Queen, I beg your assistance,” you told Frigga formally.

“Rise, Daughter. What is it you need?” she asked all formal politeness. You held up your arm with the gray soulbond marks. All of their eyes widened with the looks of horror on their faces. They knew that it meant, though you doubted any of them had ever seen it before.

“Loki is in danger. I need assistance to save him. Immediately,” you told Frigga simply. There was no need for more words when the proof was etched in your skin.

“Children, Astrid. Go. Bring my son home safely,” Frigga ordered. You curtsied to her, regardless of the fact that you were wearing pants. It was still the appropriate gesture.

“Thank you, my queen,” you replied formally. You knew she would do anything to save her son. Offering a few Asgardians, even some of their best warriors was just the tip of the iceberg of the help she could send. This small band would get you started, would be able to mobilize faster to get Loki out of immediate danger.

“Save my son,” she pleaded, tears in her eyes. She knew. They all knew that Loki would only break the soulbond if he were dying.

“I will, lady mother,”

Thor, Sif, and Astrid rushed to follow you from the room with Tony at your heels. “Sister, what happened?” Thor asked as you walked back to the portal. You explained what was going on as briefly as you could.

“Kat, don’t forget what Frigga said,” Sif warned.

“I know. It’s time,”

“Time for what?” Tony demanded, hating being left in the dark.

“Time to go save my soulbond,” you told him as you all walked through the portal. The portal snapped shut behind you, the second you were through.

“You don’t know where he is,” Tony protested.

“Yes, I do,” you replied. “I got his location when he broke the soulbond, but we don’t have much time. You have 30 seconds to request gear before we head out,” you told them all as you grabbed the last pot of monster-coffee from the table in the commonroom.

“Kat-” Tony started, but didn’t get further than that as you downed the entire pot directly from the carafe. You were not messing around with saving Loki. Thor, Sif, and Astrid requested weapons and gear which you summoned for them as you downed coffee from the pot.

Never drink an entire pot of monster-coffee at once.

It should never be drunk in general and should definitely never be chugged. You did both. You literally shuddered when it took effect about 30 seconds later. You were going to sleep for a month when the stuff wore off. You didn’t care as long as you saved Loki first.

“Ready?” you asked them. They all nodded when they were geared up

“What’s the plan?” Tony asked.

“I’m going to portal us in. I need you four to guard while I get Loki in decent enough shape to travel, and then we’re getting the fuck out of there. If he’s in bad enough shape that he broke the soulbond, it is going to take all of my magic and all of my healing abilities to get him stable enough to travel. I won’t be able to help you fight Balder or his cronies.”

“Lead on, Sister,” Thor said when they’d all absorbed your words.

“Shouldn’t we bring some more people?” Tony asked, hesitantly. Your group was deceptively small.

“There’s no one else here, Uncle Tony. Call backup to the location when we get there,”

You looked over at Pepper. “Can you handle opening another portal?” you asked her. Thor opened his mouth to offer, but you needed him at full strength, so you glared at him to keep him silent. Pepper nodded. You felt her power levels and saw that she had just enough for this.

“Good. You stay here after the portal is opened. You can’t handle opening two portals in one day. Especially since you don’t actually have magic,” you had the feeling that Tony was grateful you were keeping Pepper out of this fight.

“I can fight!” Pepper protested.

“Not this fight. Open the portal. That is enough. Let me save my magic for healing Loki.” She nodded and offered you his hand again. You glanced at Thor, Sif, and Astrid. “Never tell the Queen that I did this,” you ordered them. You reopened the wound on Pepper’s hand and used the same process as before, using forbidden blood magic to open the portal as you focused on Loki and the signal you had gotten from him when the soulbond broke. You had to shove your own power in to help break the portal through the shields. Sif and Astrid grabbed your hand and helped, though neither of them had much if any magic of their own.

Together you punched through.

Pepper passed out on the couch she had been sitting on just as the portal opened.

Thor and Tony flanked you as you ran through the portal. Sif followed a step behind with Astrid. The portal snapped shut the second you were all through. You would have to punch another way out of here.

That was a problem for after you saved your Loki.

#Loki #Lover #submission #gifted #chapter 54 #nekoamamori

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ladyfogg · 4 years ago

Text

May I? - 18/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Screenshot by @ sapphicdata

Faith was alone for far too long.

It was difficult to gauge what day it was. With no sun or clock to help her, she could only tell the passage of time when Soshi delivered her meals. Based on that alone, she estimated it had been three days since the dinner party.

And she hadn't seen Data at all. Or even Fajo. Whatever they were doing, Fajo didn't feel it was necessary to include her. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad, however.

Only Soshi visited her. They seemed to be making an extra effort to engage her every time they brought food. At first, they just dropped it off, but slowly they extended their time with her until they stayed through the whole meal. She wondered if they were trying to make sure she actually ate.

She did but only because Data had specifically asked her to. And because there was literally nothing else to do.

“Soshi have question,” they said as Faith pushed her food around with her fork.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Data told Mala that Toka lives. Fajo says Toka dead. Which true?”

“Toka is alive,” Faith assured him. “The Enterprise is a vessel of exploration, not war. They are most likely trying to communicate with him.”

“Toka no learn common speak,” Soshi said.

“It doesn’t matter. They will find a peaceful way to talk to your friend.”

Soshi nodded but did not continue the conversation. Faith forced herself to eat some before her stomach protested and she pushed the tray away.

"Don't you have a game or something I can play?” she asked as they picked up the tray to remove it.

“Faith bored?”

“Stars, yes.”

“Soshi sorry. Mr. Fajo no let Soshi have games.”

“Then what do you guys do when you're not working?”

“Soshi always work.”

The first chance I get, I'm kicking Fajo's ass, she thought to herself.

Before she could say anything verbal, however, the doors opened and Fajo himself strolled in. "Why are you still here?" he asked Soshi in a sharp voice. "Be somewhere else!"

Soshi hurried away with the tray. Once they were gone, Fajo gave Faith a wide smile.

"It's your lucky day," he said. "You and Data have been so good, I'm giving you a little reward."

Faith was instantly suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"I have decided to give you better accommodations," he said. "Something more...permanent than this."

Faith did not like the sound of that. The thought of being brought to another location did not sit right.

She already had the knife tucked into the waistband of her pants so she could easily grab it if need be.

The thought helped ease her fear slightly.

"These are fine," she said.

Fajo chuckled. "Believe me. You'll like the new ones better. Come on. Up up up." He snapped his fingers and motioned for her to follow him.

With no choice in the matter, she did as he commanded. The halls were as quiet as they had been the first time he led her through them. It made her curious about the crew. Where were they? He must have someone other than him and the Oz'ods helping him.

Faith kept her eyes peeled, taking in every detail she could. He didn't seem to mind her knowing where they were going which was slightly unsettling. Or overconfidence on his part. He obviously didn't think they'd be able to escape anytime soon.

Fajo brought her to another set of doors that opened for him. Inside was the most luxurious room she had ever seen. A large bed was situated in the center of the room, opposite an equally large window that overlooked the expansion of space. Every wall had a beautiful painting or piece of art on it and the small sitting area in the corner had some of the most comfortable looking couches Faith had ever seen.

Data stood by one of the paintings, admiring it. He turned when they entered and Faith's heart skipped a beat when she saw him.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Hi." He gave her one of his soft smiles that she adored.

Fajo looked between them, a smug smirk on his face. "Well, I'll leave you two alone now. Enjoy."

He left and Faith turned to Data with a frown. “Suddenly he wants us to room together? I don’t trust it.”

“Your suspicions are understandable,” Data said. “I also do not trust Fajo. Although I have done as he asked in order to make this arrangement possible, I believe it is part of a larger scheme of his.”

“What kind of scheme?”

“I do not know.” Data extended his arms out in front of him. “Regardless, I am very glad to see you.”

Faith’s smile returned as she accepted the embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. “I’m glad too.”

They hugged for some time, Faith keeping her eyes closed as she took a deep breath. She could feel

Data’s nose in her hair and sighed when he hugged her tighter.

“I do not wish to alarm you but I believe we are being monitored.”

Faith jerked away from the hug, staring at him with a startled expression. “What? Why do you say that?”

He nodded towards the painting he had been examining. “That is not a real painting,” he said. “I also noticed several of the other paintings appear to be false or holographic. I believe Fajo put us together so we may be watched.”

Faith suddenly felt incredibly violated and wrapped her arms around herself. “What a scumbag!” she snapped. “I hate it here. I want to go home.”

“As do I,” Data reached out to pat her cheek in comfort. “We are fortunate, however. He has put us together which is a mistake on his part. Our intelligence and determination make us a formidable team.”

“Wait, if he can see us, can’t he hear us as well?”

“Unlikely. While I was alone, I was able to discreetly examine the surveillance equipment in my room to study its design. I found no audio capabilities and I have to theorize it does not have such a function. This vessel is not meant to act as a prison.”

“Well, that’s something at least.” Faith headed over the couch where she sat with a sigh. “I hope you have a plan because I haven’t been able to come up with anything solid.”

“I do,” Data said, taking the seat next to her. “Fajo has had me perform three thefts in the last three days. Each time I was able to quietly access the scanners of those bases and vessels to discover our location. We are not as far from our crash site as I initially thought. If we can gain control of the ship, we should be able to fly it to the system where the Enterprise will be looking for us.”

“That’s a big if. I suspect the bridge is heavily guarded.”

“I do as well. That is why I feel your friendship with Soshi will be beneficial. They can tell us all we need to know about the crew.”

“Soshi is scared of Fajo. It’s going to be hard to get them to turn on him.”

“I have already planted the seed of doubt in Mala regarding Fajo's intentions. He told the Oz'ods their comrade on the Enterprise was killed. I assured Mala that was not the case. They did not believe me but Soshi might believe you.”

“They asked me about it a little while ago. I assured them the Enterprise wouldn’t hurt their friend. I think I got through to them.”

“Then we must wait for the perfect time to act.”

Faith was drained from her time in captivity. Her body felt as though it were made of stone and as their conversation went on, she found her eyes drooping.

“Faith, you seem fatigued,” Data noted.

“I am,” Faith said through a yawn. “I haven’t slept well since our first night on the shuttle. Being a woman alone in captivity makes it difficult to ever truly rest.”

“I will not be activating my dream program. You may sleep and I will watch over you.”

Faith was relieved at the thought and placed a kiss on Data’s cheek. “Thank you,” she said as she stood. “That bed does look comfortable.”

Data gestured towards it. “Please, feel free to sleep.”

Faith didn’t need to be told twice. With another yawn, she hauled herself to her feet and climbed into the large bed. It was even softer than the one in her other room. She slid under the covers, careful to hide her knife under her pillow before making herself comfortable.

After a moment, she realized Data was studying her from across the room. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“Faith,” Data responded. “May I hold you as you fall to sleep? I quite enjoyed it the last time.”

Her face grew hot and she practically swooned. “Definitely.”

With a smile, Data joined her, sliding onto the other side of the bed. Once he laid down, he opened his arms for her. Faith snuggled into his side, laying her head on his chest. In the back of her mind, she recalled his warning about being watched but she could not resist being close to him.

“Would you like me to wake you up at a certain time?” Data asked.

“No,” Faith mumbled. “Not unless Fajo shows up.”

“I understand.”

For the first time in days, Faith was able to relax. She let her eyes drift close, entranced by the familiar solid warmth of Data. His arms around her felt like the most secure blanket in the universe.

It took her a bit to settle but once she did, she drifted off to sleep easily.

Dark. Lonely. So very lonely. Gentle hands stroking her hair suddenly are ripped away and when she tries to reach for them, she finds nothing but empty space.

Alone. All alone. Always alone. Forever alone.

He’ll leave like the others. Leave her when he grows tired of trying to provide comfort. Tired of her always slipping back back back down into the dark.

It’s better to be alone. Can’t disappoint anyone that way. It’s easier when no one cares…

“Faith, wake up.”

Groggily, Faith opened her eyes. “W-What? W'as wrong?”

“I am sorry to wake you but you were crying in your sleep.” Data's concerned face swam above hers.

“Was I?”

The lights had been dimmed, casting the room into shadow and giving everything a dream-like quality. Which was incredibly disorienting.

She reached up to touch her face, finding her cheeks damp.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Data asked, smoothing her hair back.

“I don’t remember.”

Already the dream had faded, leaving Faith confused. She had the sudden urge to cling to Data and so she followed through, wrapping herself around him tightly.

Data remained hovering over, allowing her to hold on. “I have had bad dreams too.”

“You have?”

“They are common. Should you remember the details you are more than welcome to share them with me. It will help decipher the meaning.”

“Thanks, babe.”

She drew back from the hug, resting against her pillow. Data eyed her curiously.

“You have referred to me as ‘babe' once before,” he pointed out. “I believe that is a term of endearment for romantic couples. Do you wish for me to give you one as well?”

Faith chuckled, reaching up to run her fingertips along his jaw. “If you wish,” she said. “It’s not necessary. I actually didn’t do it on purpose myself. It just slipped out. Do you like it? If not I won’t use it anymore.”

“I have never been given a term of endearment before. Please, continue to use it. Once I find one suitable for you, I will do the same.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She tilted her head up and puckered her lips expectantly. Data got the hint, leaning down to give her a kiss. Part of her was acutely aware Fajo might be watching so she did not deepen it as she would have liked.

As if on cue, the door opened and the lights were suddenly turned back up to full brightness. It was so startling, Faith yelled in surprise, burying her face in Data’s neck.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?” Fajo asked looking entirely too pleased with finding them in such a compromising position.

“We were not doing anything sexual,” Data assured him, sliding off of Faith to sit up. “Did you need something?”

“Yes as a matter of fact,” Fajo said, stepping further into the room. “The delegates are returning for another meeting tonight and have requested your presence. Both of you.”

Faith sat up as well, stomach-churning at the thought of seeing Enil again. She hoped he would not be there but she rarely had such luck.

“We shall do our best to provide enjoyable conversation,” Data said.

“Of course you will.” Fajo snapped his fingers and the door opened. Mala entered carrying a garment bag. Faith could only assume it was another vastly inappropriate dress. “Be ready in ten minutes. Oh and if you could up the PDA that would be great. They really got a kick out of that last time.”

It took Data a moment to process what Fajo meant. “Ah. Public displays of affection. I am sorry but Faith is not comfortable with such things.”

Fajo's smile faded as he turned his gaze on Faith. “Well get comfortable. You are mine now and you must play your parts. Entertain them as I see fit or no more sharing a bed.”

Faith was beyond angry. She could feel her rage brimming on the surface but before she could say anything, Data’s hand came to rest on her back and the words died in her throat. Mala placed the garment bag on the bed next to them then took their leave.

“I’ll…do my best,” Faith said through clenched teeth.

Fajo clapped. “Great! Alright, get dressed.”

He left and as soon as the doors closed, Faith flipped him off. “What an asshole!”

Data stood and lifted the garment bag for her. “I understand your frustration. I will be with you the whole time.”

Faith sighed and stood as well, unzipping the bag. “I know, I…dear god this dress!”

It was somehow skimpier than the last. Faith was disgusted.

“Data, I don’t think I can do this,” she said, stepping away. “That’s too much. I might as well be topless!”

Data examined the dress. “It does leave very little to the imagination.”

He looked around the room before spotting something. “Here, put the dress on. I have an idea.” He handed her the bag.

Reluctantly, Faith did as he requested. Thin straps covered her nipples but that was about it. She struggled to find a place to keep her knife. She had no choice but to tuck it into the waistband of her underwear and hope the tightness of the dress didn’t show the outline.

When Data returned to her side, he had a blanket with him. With his quick hands, he tore it in half. After some fancy looping and tying, Data managed to fasten it around the top of the dress like a makeshift top. It actually looked really good.

“Better?” he asked.

Faith kissed him. “Better.”

Fajo appeared a few minutes later. When he saw the addition to Faith’s dress, he scoffed. “What’s this?” he asked, waving his hand at her.

“I feel more comfortable this way,” she said.

Fajo rolled his eyes but did not seem angry. “You’re lucky you caught me in a good mood. Fine, do what you wish. As long as you wear the dress and smile like you’re supposed to. Come on. The delegates should be here any minute.”

Faith sighed with relief at his dismissal.

“Is there anything we need to be aware of for this dinner?” Data asked.

“Just be your charming selves again,” Fajo said. “Answer questions, making conversation, maybe a kiss or two.”

“We understand,” Data said.

He offered Faith his arm which she accepted. The three of them left the room, heading towards the dining room. Still, Faith saw no crew. It made her incredibly uneasy.

They reached the dining room and Faith’s stomach dropped as she saw Enil. Only Enil.

“Enil! You’re early, my friend!” Fajo exclaimed, taking his seat at the head of the table. “We’ll start the meal when the others join us.” He motioned for Faith and Data to sit.

Mala, who had been waiting for them, dismissed themselves to the kitchen.

“The others won’t be coming,” Enil said, voice sharper than it was the last time they spoke. “It’s just me.”

A sense of dread washed over Faith especially when his eyes slid over to stare at her. He took in her appearance and sneered. “I liked the other dress better.”

Data’s hand came to rest on her knee under the table.

Fajo's cheerful attitude remained but it seemed forced this time. “Forget about the human,” he said, waving impatiently. “Why aren’t the others joining us?”

“They’ve decided to allow me to handle the negotiations from now on,” Enil said.

That was when Fajo's smile faded. “We finished negotiations,” he said in a dangerously low voice. “Everything was agreed upon last time.”

“Things have changed.”

“Excuse me, Fajo,” Data said. “Do you wish for Faith and I to leave? This seems to be a sensitive matter.”

Faith was impressed with his boldness. She remembered Fajo dismissing them before the last business meeting so she hoped he would go for the suggestion.

“Yes, Mr. Data,” Fajo said, eyes never leaving Enil. “I believe that would be best. Mala will escort you back to your room once they return.”

“They should stay,” Enil said. “What I have to offer concerns them.”

Faith felt her chest tighten and she reached down to take Data’s hand.

“Oh, is that so?” Fajo asked. “Enlighten us.”

“The Vangar are willing to provide you with the protection you desire,” Enil said, leaning back in his seat. “What we discussed prior has not changed. However, I have an additional request.”

“Which is?”

Enil looked at Faith. “The female.”

Faith’s grip on Data was so tight she was losing feeling in her fingers.

“Faith is not an object to be used this way,” Data said.

“I don’t think that’s your call, android,” Enil said, barely giving Data a passing glance.

“It’s not,” Fajo said. “It’s mine. However, I am more concerned about the sudden request. What will you do if I refuse?”

“Leave. And take our protection with us.”

“That hardly seems fair.”

“A female is a small price to pay for the Vangar's help, which you desperately need. I’m sure Starfleet will be eager to know what happened to their two officers.”

Fajo's expression darkened and he sat up, leaning towards Enil. “I do not take kindly to blackmail,” he scowled.

“Call it what you like. Regardless, hand the female over to me and we will consider the negotiations complete.”

Fajo glanced at Faith who felt like she was about to pass out.

“Fajo, if you give him Faith—” Data began.

Fajo cut him off with a raise of his hand. He looked back at Enil. “I am sorry you feel this way,” he said. “My answer is no.”

That was the moment Faith knew Enil had made a grave error. He may have been able to convince Fajo to turn Faith over to him if he hadn’t mentioned Starfleet. She was under no illusions her captor had grown fond of her.

“I am disappointed, Fajo,” Enil said. “You have very few friends left. It would be a shame to alienate the ones you do have.”

“I am not a man who is easily intimidated,” Fajo snapped. “I believe you should leave. You know the way to the transporter.”

“Fine,” Enil said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I hope your ship can outrun the Enterprise again. Rumor has it they are in this sector.”

Fajo moved so fast Faith didn’t even see the phaser until Enil was slumped forward in his chair.

She sat stunned, watching as Fajo lowered his weapon. “Mala, get out here!” he yelled towards the kitchen. “Clean this mess up!”

He then turned his scowl on Faith as he stood. “You are outgrowing your usefulness,” he said. “Do you have any idea what you cost me?”

He stalked towards her, forcing Data and Faith out of their seats. As he pointed his weapon, Data stepped in front of Faith, shielding her with his body.

“Fajo, if you hurt Faith I will be forced to retaliate using any means necessary,” Data threatened.

“Mr. Data, I have been more than fair and patient with your little pet. But my patience has its limits. If you want companionship so much, I will find you someone else. Step aside.”

Data stood his ground. “As Faith would say, suck a dick.”

Fajo blinked in surprise, lowering his phaser just a fraction. “Did you just say—”

Suddenly, a loud explosion came from the kitchen, blasting the doors open and drawing Fajo's attention. Dark smoke billowed into the room, clouding their vision and sending Faith and Fajo into coughing fits.

Faith felt a small hand in hers and then Soshi's voice came from nowhere.

“Run!” they said.

Grabbing Data's hand with her free one, Faith allowed the Oz'od to pull them from the room as Fajo was distracted.

#commander data #lt commander data #Data Soong #data tng #star trek next generation

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redstarwriting · 5 years ago

Text

Dimension Hopper

Avengers x Reader

Request: “Hi!! I was wondering if I could request an imagine about a reader from our universe going to the marvel universe?? And she's super smart and strong but like, a little younger than Peter (15). I'm still not over Endgame so can she be confused when everything is normal and the Tony thing didn't happen, and the avengers are confused about why she is so happy about tony, idk just FLUFF PLEASE😊💖“

Word Count: 1,858

Genre: Fluff, Platonic

Warnings: Endgame spoilers, swearing, run on sentences

A/N: Not gonna lie, I got carried away on this one. I might make a part two to it to show just how close the reader gets with the rest of the Avengers in this specific story, and to show that she’s a strong ass girl as well. I already have ideas for it, and I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope y’all enjoy it as well! I’m working on all the other requests I have right now, so if you sent one in I’ll get to it as soon as I can!

───────────────────────────────────

Saying you felt like your heart was ripped out of your chest was an understatement. You’d just seen Endgame, and while you loved it and honestly had an out of body experience during it, Tony died. No more Iron Man in the MCU. Needless to say, you cried your eyes out. Even though he was a fictional character, he was your role model. You, like him, were very interested in engineering and science and things like that. In fact, you understood a lot of what Tony could do, and you’re only fourteen years old. You keep the fact that you can understand all the complicated engineering things that Tony talks about a secret, of course, considering the technology to actually pull off what he can do doesn’t actually exist in this world. You were working on that though. When you weren’t doing your schoolwork or reading comics or watching Marvel movies, you were out in your garage, working to become this world’s Tony Stark.

Needless to say, as soon as your parents park, you hurry to start working on your projects. You’ve already seen Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, and the entire concept of it interested you. Different dimensions, the multiverse, it all was something that seemed to be calling out to you. So, needless to say, you were trying to find a way to travel to other dimensions, only safely. You don’t want to find out what that glitchy thing that happens in Spider-Verse actually feels like. You’re just grateful that your dad happens to own a weapons company, much like another super genius in the universe that you would like to travel to. That’s what allows you to develop and invent all the time. It’s quite convenient, actually. Nevertheless, you’re lost in your work, distracting yourself from your sadness about Tony Stark, and you don’t even realize how much time has passed. It’s a Saturday, and you saw the movie at a one o’clock showing, so you got out of it at around four o’clock, meaning you started working at around five since you went and ate dinner with your parents. Now, it is four in the morning. And you are tired. It’s not the first time you pass out at your crafting table, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Now, you’ve gotten pretty far on the designing and creating of the fancy touch technology that Tony uses in the movies, and you’ve been using it more and more. Laptops and touch screen phones are a thing of the past for you, but you haven’t shared anything you’ve discovered with the world yet. Why, you ask? You’re fourteen. Chances are no one would believe you and they’d probably just say your dad was the one who actually did it, and you’re not about to let the things you designed get credited to someone else, even if he helped create you. With the technology you’ve created though, you can do things that are way beyond thought of on this Earth. And that leads back to the task you have at hand. Dimension hopping. Although you’ve fallen asleep, diagnostics for the machine that will be used to help dimension hop are being run through over and over again. You finished the basics of it, now you just need to find the exact way it will actually work. Lucky for you, a successful way is found. You’re just sleeping when it is. Crazily enough, the program downloaded itself into your watch, and you must have moved around and hit something in your sleep, because you hopped a dimension. The only downside? You were asleep when it happened. So, imagine your shock when you wake up, and everything around you is abandoned. Your machinery and equipment are nowhere to be found. You glance down at your wrist, pulling up information on what the hell is going on from your watch that you designed. “April 28, 2019… but what happened to my lab…?” you mutter, confusion and utter devastation flooding your mind. You think for a second and realize something. What if you’re in a different dimension? You frantically begin typing, trying to figure out what’s happening. Before you can even begin to look at the search results, though, the ceiling behind you gets blasted through. You turn, seeing none other than Iron Man, Tony Stark himself, looking at you. “A kid? You’re the one who caused a surge of energy?” you hear him say, and you just stare at him. “Y-You’re-“

“Rogers, it’s just a kid. She’s not about to harm anyone. She’s not even armed with anything and she literally just woke up… no, believe me Barton, I know what falling asleep while inventing looks like. She’s got it written all over her face. And hair. Yeah, of course you can come in, I already told you she’s harmless.”

Tony steps out of his Iron Suit, looking directly at you, and you literally just stare at him with your mouth wide open. “What’s your name kid?”

“You’re real?! And alive!” you blurt out and Tony just stares at you. “Wha-” You cut Tony off by crushing him in a hug. “Woah! Okay, okay, hey,” he decides to let it happen, but he is pretty confused. Before the embrace is over, Steve Rogers, accompanied by Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton all walk through the door. Through the gigantic hole Tony had previously made in the ceiling flies Thor. You immediately pull back from Tony, and nearly start crying. “Nat’s alive too! Oh my god this is amazing!” You start freaking out, and now they’re all looking at you with a weird expression. “Okay, what’s going on?” Steve asks, approaching you. “You’re not old!”

“No, he’s old, he just looks young,” Tony says, and Steve gives him a look. You laugh, shaking your head. “No I know he’s like 101 years old, but he still looks like 25! He isn’t an old man on the outside!”

“What the hell is going on here, Stark?” Clint asks. “Yes, I am also wondering who this child is and why she is stating that we are all alive when it is obvious that we are all alive,” Thor says. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Tony tells him. “Okay, yeah I can imagine how this is weird but oh my god you guys don’t understand. I watched you guys die and now you’re here and I’m here and you’re all okay and you’re all together again and I’m just so happy you guys are amazing, Tony you’re my literal idol I want to be just like you and I’m so excited I finally get to meet you and I know I’m repeating myself and if this was typed out it would be a huge run on sentence and-”

“Wait, slow down, you watched us die?” Tony interrupts you, concern written all over his face. “Yes! And to be completely honest I have no idea how all of you are alive and I’m totally confused about it... does Thanos exist? Are you guys searching for the infinity stones? ‘Cause if not, you should totally do that before Thanos-”

“How do you know about the stones? And Thanos- who are you?” Tony asks, in obvious disbelief. “Oh, yeah! I forgot that part, my name is (Y/N), I’m fourteen years old, and I already told you I love you, but I love you. Like a lot. Like you inspired me to become an engineer... but seriously, how are you guys alive?”

“Well, we did fight Thanos in Wakanda, but he never got the chance to snap his fingers. Thor cut his head clean off with Stormbreaker and Doctor Strange used the time stone to bring Vision back and Cap and I decided to set aside our differences and start working together again. After a risk that big, it would be better for all of us to work together than be separated but that’s enough about that, you’re fourteen and you’re already an engineer?”

“Oh my god, that’s crazy! Everything I though I knew was a lie what the heck, this is insane! And you’re back together?! This is so great. I’m so happy I designed this watch so I could jump from my dimension to this dimension-”

“Your dimension to this dimension?”

“Yes, my dimension to your dimension.”

“You’re from a different dimension?”

“Yeah! Isn’t that cool! And so far, no glitches and my organs feel fine so I’d like to say this was a success, the only problem is I don’t entirely know how I got here,” you think out-loud, pulling up the hologram like technology that exists in this world already from your watch, beginning to type some things out. “So you invented that watch?” Tony asks, walking over to you to see what you were typing. “Uh-huh… it only took around two and a half months to design the watch itself and integrate the dimensional navigation software, but the technology used in it took me about six months to develop.” You can feel Tony’s eyes on you, but you just keep typing away. “How long did you say you were going to stay here?” you hear Bruce ask, and you shrug. “I didn’t say, but to be honest it looks like I’m stuck here because fun fact, this was somehow activated while I was asleep. I have no idea how to get back to my dimension, so…” you look at Tony, “Do you have a place I could stay until I figure it out?”

“Uh, yeah I do. I kind of want to talk to you about some things. I’ve noticed you don’t have an A.I. I could help you out with that, you’d be amazed at how much simpler it makes things,” Tony says, and your eyes widen. “Really?! I can have my own JARVIS?!”

“Hell yeah you can. Now with this watch, do you think that-“

“I hate to interrupt your science party, but are we just ignoring how she knows so much about us?” Natasha asks. “Oh! The dimension I’m from is hero-less. You guys exist in movies, I’ve seen every major battle you guys have had. Including one that won’t even happen because your timeline is different from the timeline that was created in my dimension,” you explain, not diverting your attention from your watch. “I have them all if you’d want to watch them. The actors look just like you guys, it’s pretty dope,” you inform and they all stare at you in disbelief. “You know, (Y/N), I think we’re gonna be good friends,” Tony tells you, and you smile. If you thought it was crazy that you discovered dimensional traveling, it’s even crazier that you just met not only your idol, but your future best friend. With the things he taught you, you went back to your dimension and released all of your tech, advancing the boring old Earth you knew. You constantly travelled between your dimension and the Avengers’ dimension, and because of Tony you always had a place to stay. You also may have brought Peter Parker to prom. Crazy how that works.

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beepbeeprichiellc · 5 years ago

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Please, please, please, PLEASE tell us what happens in the 74 and 86 promp fill that you did. How is Eddie going to react? Is he going to forgive Richie just like that or will there be angst???????

This took me forever! Sorry…. Part 1, Part 2

Eddie awoke with a painful crick in his neck.

Not that he would ever complain about it, or the fact that his bed had lumps or that his room was always ten degrees colder than the rest of the house. There were a million things that scratched at his skin but he would never ever tell a living soul. Throwing his floral bedspread over his awkward form he reached over and shut off the blaring alarm, groaning into his pillow. At least it was Friday, the mask he wore around school could finally be peeled off and he could sulk in all the things that weighed him down. It was easy enough, fooling the people at school. They ate right out of the palm of his hand, fawning over the new and improved attitude that he had developed over the past six weeks. Even the losers seemed unaware of the torture he was in.

If people knew that he had been kicked out of his home, thrown into the night like some kind of dog that his mother had grown out of they would mourn his so called loss. What they would never know was that he-Sonia’s perfect little Eddiebear-had been the one who initiated it, the one who screamed at the top of his lungs until they were black with hate and vulnerability. He had called his own mother a bitch and a whore like he was some delinquent with a vendetta. It was like he was a puppet who had finally pried the ventriloquists hand out of his own ass and made a break for it. In the end he was put out with the clothes on his back and twenty five dollars in his wallet.

He had made it to the park where he sat until nearly dawn just soaking in what had happened. There was no home anymore, no roof over his head or meals for his stomach. There had been a thought-or rather a person that had popped into his head but his heart hung heavy at the realization that he could no longer go to him-that door had been slammed shut. More than anything he wanted to walk that familiar path, bang on that familiar window and puff his chest out with dignity. Richie would’ve been so proud of him, or at least the memory of Richie would. Eddie had never felt so alone, so lost. With nowhere to go and no one to call he waited for something-anything to do that would keep him alive long enough to see the sunrise.

That something turned out to be a red haired girl who was cutting through the grass, on her way home. Without a word she had sat beside him and pulled him close which shattered the illusion. Somehow she had known, and in that cold morning he had wept for the person who he had been and also for the person he was going forward. Eddie Kasprbak had died on that bench and he was terrified of what was left.

There was a knock at his door, “Wake up Eddie, we are going to be late.”

“Okay!” He yelled back, forcing his body out of bed. Without really thinking about it he went through the motions and made it down the staircase in ten minutes flat. While running his fingers through his messy hair he followed the smell of cooking meat and was surprised to find a full spread on the kitchen table. “What is-”

“Happy Birthday!” The Hanscom family sang, including Beverly who either just got there or had snuck in sometime last night. While Eddie stood there dumbstruck, Mrs. Hanscom came over to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a sideways hug. It was warm and inviting, unlike his mothers which had always seemed greedy and cold.

This woman-Eddie had decided-was some kind of angel. Arlene Hanscom had always wanted a big family but that had been stolen from her the day her husband had come home with a folded flag. Ben mentioned her a few times but Eddie himself had never really met her until Beverly had brought him there from the park. It took literally no convincing-not even a nudge from either Ben or Beverly and before Eddie knew it the spare room was cleared out just for him. Beverly was there nearly every night-seeking comfort after her father had fallen asleep. In that sense, Eddie was jealous. Ben was there-always there for her no matter what shape she was in and never asked for anything in return. It was hard to adjust to but Eddie made sure to do his best not to offend his hosts.

“Don’t tell us you forgot your own birthday!” Mrs. Hanscom cooed, leading Eddie to his chair. “Eighteen! My, what a fun age.”

“You really didn’t have to do all of this.” Eddie said, looking up to the woman.

“Nonsense.” She replied, brushing off his sympathetic look. “A birthday should be celebrated! You are finally an adult Eddie!.” Eddie smiled, it was a thin one that came from somewhere in his chest but it was enough to keep Mrs. Hanscom happy. Turning to the food he felt no hunger, which was more normal than not.

“So, you are finally the big one-eight. How does it feel?” Beverly asked, shoving a partially eaten sausage into her mouth.

“I don’t know, the same I guess.” He shrugged.

“Well we are all going to get together tonight to celebrate.” Beverly shot back, making sure that Ben’s mom was turned away before adding, “Mike’s scoring the beer.”

“I’d really rather not.” Eddie said to his eggs.

“Oh come on.” Ben chimed in, “It’s your birthday.”

Eddie huffed, knowing full well that here was no win in this. The Losers celebrated every birthday the same way since 16, getting secretly shit faced at Mike’s farm and soaking in each others company but that was the thing-Eddie wasn’t really enjoying all the company lately. Things had been shaky between the group, all subtly joining sides after his and Richie’s falling out. Eddie tried not to notice, but the tension was so taught he could play it like a violin. Yet another thing that weighed down on his shoulders.

After finishing breakfast they walked to school, Beverly talking on about their little get together. Eddie zoned out somewhere between what she was going to wear and what she was going to burn in the bonfire. Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin when a pair of hands grabbed his hips from behind-the noise that came from his mouth was less than manly. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a friend but rather Rick, someone who Eddie had been somewhat seeing over the past month. “Jesus don’t do that.” He scorned.

“Sorry Eddie, I was just trying to surprise you!” Rick cooed, moving to the space between him and Beverly. His arm slipped around his shoulder making Eddie’s cheeks flush. “You know if you would just let me drive you, I wouldn’t have to sneak around.”

“Sorry but I can’t let these two walk alone, they would never make it to class.” Eddie’s excuse made Beverly snort. It was a lie, and they all knew it. Only one person had ever driven him to school, it had been a tradition since the trashmouth had turned sixteen and Eddie couldn’t bear to let anyone else take the mantle.

“It’s okay.” Rick assured, smiling over to the couple as they parted at the double doors of the school. “I get it, your friends mean alot to you.”

God why did he have to be so perfect, it just wasn’t fair-Eddie didn’t deserve it. In reality, this thing was just something Eddie was using to busy himself with which was a shame because holy fuck-Rick was so sweet. In another world-another universe Eddie could see himself really falling for him but his heart was still swollen and bitter from the last time Eddie had tried to give a piece of it away.

“Hey Eddie! Happy birthday!” Mike called from just down the hall, ensuring that every person after wished him as well. This made Eddie cringe at the attention.

“Holy shit, it’s your birthday?” Rick asked, sounding disappointed. “Oh man, I’m so horrible! I didn’t know!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie muttered, letting Ricks arm fall so that he could get to his locker. “I forgot myself.”

Rick laughed, the sound something he wished he could substitute for someone else’s. “You forgot your own birthday? Really?” Eddie shrugged, “Okay, how about I make it up to you tonight? I’ll take you out to a movie, your pick.”

“Can’t.” Eddie sighed, “The gang is getting together to celebrate. It’s kind of a tradition.” It was like venom dripping from his tongue, the annoyance clear as day.

“Ah I see.” Rick sounded disappointed, making Eddie’s heart clench. “You know Eddie I wanted to talk to you about something. I think I want to-” The bell rang out, silencing whatever Rick was going to say. Eddie shot him a look of sympathy, making Rick’s mouth snap shut. “Let’s talk later.” Rick said, bend down to place a peck onto Eddie’s cheek. This should make Eddie’s stomach flip but all it did was leave him with a sense of emptiness.

Eddie watched him leave and begged himself to feel something-anything but couldn’t. Giving up he swam through the sea of students to get to this most dreaded period. Without looking around he sat in his seat, right up front. This was the only class he shared with Richie and in the nine weeks following his little slip up they had talked a total of one time and that was just when Eddie was forced to ask him for his notes. It was weird and cold and Eddie vowed to fail before doing it again.

“Hey Eds.”

Eddie choked on the air in his lungs at the sound, the voice sending shivers down his spine. There sitting at the desk beside was Richie Tozier himself, wearing his favorite ripped jeans and the hoodie Bill had gifted him last Christmas. Eddie blinked, unsure that he wasn’t imagining the whole thing. “U-Uh yea?”

“I know we haven’t really talked since well-” His voice trailed off, his hand making a vague geustrue in the air. Clearing his throat he continued. “I just wanted to say happy birthday and to give you this.” Reaching into his bag Richie pulled out a small box gift wrapped in bright colors. He handed it to Eddie-who only starred. “Uh-I got it for you-” Still, Eddie watched, unmoving. “Okay well here ya go.” In slow motion he put the box in front of Eddie, as if afraid that he would scare him away.

Richie disappeared back into the back of the class and the teacher began to lecture. Eddie could only watch the box, the rainbow Happy Birthday mocking him in every way. Despite his better judgment he pulled apart the wrapping and peeled open the box.

It was a music box.

Not just any music box but the one Eddie had fawned over six months ago in that thrift store the group had dragged them to three towns over. As he opened it the ballerina began to dance, the melody floating up towards the sky as if trying to escape the darkness of the world. It was just as beautiful as it had been all that time ago, the porcelain cold and frightening in his hands.

Oh god, he was going to be sick.

Grabbing his backpack he bolted from the room, the sound of his own name following him out into the all. There was no stop, not when he met the double doors or when the crisp wind touched his tear streaked face. Eddie had no idea where he was going but he knew that he had to get there before he completely broke down.

So he kept running.

What a fucking birthday.

#reddie #it #it au #it 2017 #it 2019 #richie tozier #eddie kasprbak #prompt #requested

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fragmentedink-archived · 5 years ago

Text

Hell to Pay: Chapter Nineteen

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: trigger warnings for mentions of past abuse

Nik was getting ready to throw Lev off a cliff for the sheer amount of fussing he was doing regarding Eden. He was straightening her clothes, rambling off advice, while they waited for Raziel to pull up. Nik put his hand over Lev’s mouth. “Shut. up,” he said, exasperated. “Half of what you said was completely forgotten. We’ll be fine. And if not, you’ll be back tomorrow.”

Nik grabbed a hold of Lev’s tongue when he tried licking Nik’s hand. Eden was giggling and wiggling when Nik warned, “If you plan on licking me, you better be licking me elsewhere.”

Lev flushed, but said, “Text me, if you need anything? Anything at all?”

Nik rolled his eyes. “We. Will. Be. Fine.”

“Are you sure?” Lev asked. Eden smacked Lev’s arm when he tugged on her cream colored sweater. “Maybe I should stay?”

“I will literally have Amara drag you by your legs if you don’t go,” Nik said, kissing Eden on the head. She wiggled happily, gnawing on her little fist while trying to shove her sweater in her mouth. “Eden will still be alive when you come back,” he promised.

“Okay, but are you sure-”

Lev’s millionth ask was cut off by the knock at the door. Nik sighed at the ceiling. “Thank the stars. Saved by the door.” Nik went to open it and grinned when he saw Raziel standing there. “So we meet again.”

She didn’t have a chance to respond before Lev just jumped her, throwing his arms around her. She just hugged him back. “Hello, Little bird,” she said, then looked up to Nik. “Hello.” Her eyes then moved to the babbling baby still wiggling in Nik’s arms. “This must be Eden.”

“She has my eyes, don’t you think?” Nik asked. He kissed Eden’s cheek, getting smacked in the face for his troubles. “She’s a darling,” he said, nipping at Eden’s fingers. “Clearly she takes after me.”

Raziel smiled. “She’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t she?” Lev instantly said, making heart eyes at Eden. “Would you like to hold her?”

“She absolutely may not,” Cameron said, damn near scaring the hell out of Nik by how quietly he came up behind them. Nik turned to see Cameron leveling a cold look at Raziel. Eden squealed loudly in Nik’s ear and started reaching for Cameron.

Nik handed her over before she deafened him. Cameron took her without taking his eyes off the ancient angel, clearly poised for offense, despite Raziel just ruffling Lev’s hair and telling him it was fine.

Eden replaced the sweater in her mouth for Cameron’s shirt while clawing at Cameron’s face with her tiny nails. It would be hilarious if Cameron didn’t look moments away from tearing into Raziel. Nik gave a low whistle. “Well, this is awkward,” he said, to no one in particular.

Cameron seemed immune to the confused and hurt look from Lev. Raziel chucked him under the chin lightly. “I’ll be waiting in the car. Go ahead and tell your goodbyes.” Cameron was watching her turn around and go back out to her car, before he finally looked at Eden.

“Stop chewing on my clothes,” he said, pulling the collar of his shirt out of her mouth. She just screeched at him for taking away her latest chew toy. “Stop it,” he scolded. She giggled at him before Lev wandered over to kiss Eden’s head.

“She’s probably teething,” Lev said, for the hundredth time. “You should find a teething ring for her to chew on.” When he looked at the small black claw marks on Cameron’s cheek, he added, “She also needs her nails clipped.”

“Noted,” Cameron said, halfway dismissively. “You may go now. Before your grandmother’s feathers fall out. Eden will be fine.”

Hurt was etched on Lev’s face. “Goodbye,” he said, quietly, as he went to press his cheek against Cameron’s free shoulder before coming to throw his arms around Nik. “Goodbye,” He said, looking at Nik.

Nik grabbed his chin and pulled him into a quick kiss. “See ya tomorrow,” Nik said, pressing a light bite to Lev’s neck. “I do hope you find that toy halo.”

“I’ll be back by eleven,” Lev promised, reluctantly pulling back. “I don’t wanna miss lunch.”

“Mmm, good,” Nik said. “Cam would hate missing out on feeding you.”

He could almost see Cameron’s eye roll behind him, but Lev kissed him one more time before disappearing out the door. Nik sighed loudly and shut the front door before turning on Cameron. “I think you hurt his feelings.”

Cameron’s blank look was cut short by Eden trying to tear at Cameron’s hair. “What are you talking about.”

“You mean you didn’t catch that little ‘goodbye’ he did when he left? You hurt his feelings, Cammm.”

“I did not. I told him to go before his grandmother started molting,” Cameron said, yanking Eden’s tiny fists out of his hair. “If I intended to hurt his feelings I’d be more direct about it,” he said, before glaring down at Eden. “Keep your hands out of my hair.”

Eden’s only answer was a shrill screech right in his face. Cameron just sighed and turned back towards the kitchen with a wiggly Eden going back to clench Cam’s white hair. “I don’t think she listened, Cam.”

“Shut up, Nikolas,” Cameron said, sharp enough Nik half winced, but it didn’t stop the grin from forming on his face. Cameron just pulled Eden away from his hair. “Knock it off, right this minute, you horrid child.”

“Give her to me before you kill my baby,” Nik said.

“Hmph.” Cameron stopped in his tracks and halfway shoved Eden at him. Eden wiggled and was giggling, completely oblivious to the look of murder in Cameron’s eyes. Nik tried so hard to wipe the grin off his face. “She can rip your hair out,” he said, turning around and going back to the kitchen.

Nik looked down at Eden smiling at him with her fist halfway in her mouth. “My stars, child, you are going to get yourself killed.” She just babbled at him, clearly not afraid of getting smothered in her sleep by her father, as she reached for Nik’s hair. “Oh no you don’t,” Nik said, holding her out just enough to keep those teeny pale fingers away. “My hair is definitely not for pulling. At least not by you.”

-----

Most of the ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Raziel seemed in a good mood, and Lev was enjoying it. By the time they got to Raziel’s house, nearly all the tension Lev had been holding had eased somewhat.

Walking inside no longer felt like coming home. That was the first thing Lev noticed, and he felt a little uncomfortable with that. Raziel’s house had always been home, and now he felt more like a guest than anything.

“You can stay in your old room,” Raziel was saying. “Are you hungry? I can make you a late breakfast.”

Lev shook his head. “Cameron made sure I ate before I came,” he said, apologetically. Cameron had made sure he ate enough to feed three people, and then some. It was like Cameron had had something to prove.

“They take good care of you, then?” Raziel asked. “You look better.”

This time Lev couldn’t help his little smile. “Yeah, they do.” He followed her into the living room and settled on the couch. “I like living with them.” Usually.

“You’ve gained weight,” Raziel said approvingly. “They clearly make you happy. You’re practically glowing, and you flush every time I bring them up.”

Lev’s face heated up. “Yeah, well, I think I love them.”

“You think you love them?” Raziel arched a brow, hiding a smile.

Lev flushed deeper. “Alright, I do,” he admitted. “But... it’s complicated.”

“As are most things in life,” Raziel said, pulling him into a hug. She pressed a kiss to his temple and rubbed his shoulder. “And, I mean no offense, but with those two, I’m not sure if it will ever be uncomplicated.”

Lev hummed. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted. “And it’s hard. Half the time I feel like I’m always going to be saying the wrong thing.”

“You need to pay attention better,” Raziel said. “You’ve always struggled to notice things going on around you.”

“Well,” Lev said, tucking his cheek on her shoulder. “When you put it like that.”

Raziel chuckled softly, tapping his nose. “Perhaps try looking beyond that, little bird. There’s a lot going on outside your head too.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lev promised. He closed his eyes, for a short moment, and then looked up again. “Hey, Gramma? Did I have a halo toy when I was a baby?”

“What?” Confusion flickered across Raziel’s face.

Lev sighed. “Cameron and Nik are convinced I had one. I promised I’d look into it.”

Raziel just laughed.

----

“Okay, but you said I can get new bracelets today,” Nik was saying. Cameron chose to ignore the borderline whining tone from Nik while he fed the actual infant in the room. Nik was sulking at the counter while Eden babbled at him, smearing applesauce across her face. “Pay attention to meeee.”

Cameron threw one of the spoons at him. “Knock it off, I’m trying to feed the baby.”

“Well what about this baby,” Nik snapped.

“I’ll put you in time out,” Cameorn said, flatly. “Do you really want that.”

Nik instantly shut up and Cameorn turned back to Eden, satisfied. He put the spoon of applesauce in her mouth, catching the bit that was going to dribble on her chin before she had the chance to spit it out. “If you ruin that sweater, we are going to have words,” he warned her.

“She’s a baby,” Nik said. “I highly doubt she gives a shit.”

“Okay, then,” Cameorn said, sitting back. “If she ruins her sweater, we will have words,” he directed at Nik. “That better?”

“Not really,” Nik mumbled.

Eden screeched at them, shaking her little fists at them with enough ferocity Cameron was almost impressed. He tried feeding her more applesauce but she pulled back away from the spoon, refusing any more.

“Great, she’s finished,” Cameron said, mostly to himself, as he looked at his watch. “We should go ahead and go to the store, then, so you can stop whining.”

“Yessss.” Nik came over and pressed a kiss to Eden’s glossy white hair. Eden babbled happily, chewing on the sleeve of her sweater when Nik looked fondly at her. “Stars, I can’t believe you made a nice baby.”

“Nice how? Have you even been in the same room as her when she was tired?” Cameron asked, glaring at him, while unhooking the tray from the highchair. Eden wiggled when Cameron picked her up and carried her to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

“You make it sound like she’s some kind of teeny monster,” Nik said, poking her nose. She almost tried chomping down on Nik’s golden brown finger. “Just seems nice to me. Babies like chewing on things, right?”

Cameron sighed. “You always were a bad judge of character.”

Nik elected to ignore Cameron and focused his attention on the wigging baby on the counter. “What do you think, tiny demon baby? Are you a nice baby? I think you are.” Eden screeched happily, reaching up for Nik. “I think she likes me,” Nik told Cameron. “See, look. She can’t get enough of me.”

“I’m sure you think that involving any female that looks at you for more than two seconds,” Cameron said, grabbing a soft wet wash rag and lightly scrubbing the applesauce still smeared across her face.

“Yeah,” Nik said. “Because it’s true. Have you ever found a woman that didn’t like me? No. you haven’t.”

“I think Biela would hang you up by your intestines if given the chance,” Cameron mused.

“Okay, the man hating lesbian does not count,” Nik huffed. “I meant anyone with a soul.”

Cameron flicked a look at him. “Are you saying I have a soul?”

“AWE. I knew you liked me,” Nik said, with a cheeky smile, pressing a kiss to Eden’s belly. “Look at that, Baby, Cameron does like me. Amazing.”

Cameron rolled his eyes. “You’re dumber than that baby.” Nik sighed and looked down at Eden, brushing his fingers over her sweater. “Why don’t you go find her some clean clothes to wear. Preferably something not so gaudy.”

Nik instantly perked up and disappeared out of the room. Cameron looked down at the baby trying to shove her fist in her mouth. “I’m finding you something less…. That. No kid of mine is wearing such ugly clothes,” he muttered.

Eden just reached a hand out to him, either completely agreeing with him or just because she wanted to be picked up. Cameron, more curious than anything, brushed his fingers through her hair. “Hmm.”

He instantly pulled back when Nik came into the room with her clothes. “These.”

Cameron instantly frowned. “What the fuck is that.”

Nik smiled brightly and held out a bright orange and black outfit. “What do you think?”

“I think she is a pale baby and you’re trying to piss me off by making her look like she’s the byproduct of a ghost fucking a pumpkin.”

Nik clicked his tongue and looked down at Eden. “And what do you think, my little demon baby? Do you want to look like a ghost pumpkin hybrid? I think you do.”

“I think you want your neck snapped,” Cameron said, flatly.

Nik frowned at him. “I think you’re bullying me.”

“You haven’t seen bullying.”

Nik sighed loudly and turned around and went to find more clothes. Cameron rolled his eyes and looked down at Eden laughing at him. “He thinks he’s funny,” he said, tracing a black button on her sweater. “Angels are notoriously idiots. Do yourself a favor and date a demon.” Eden shrieked a laugh at him and Cameron’s mouth tugged. “Good.”

Nik eventually came back with what had to be pink... tulle. “What the hell is that?” Cameron asked.

“This,” Nik said, “Is going to be the cutest little shit and I will not put her in anything else.” Eden squawked at them to hurry up and get her off the counter. “Well, looks like we have no choice. Better get her dressed now.”

Cameron ignored him and started undressing the wiggling infant on the counter, barely getting her out of her applesauce covered clothes and into the pale pink… tutu? that he thought clearly would be hilarious putting on his baby, judging by the crooked grin on Nik’s face. Cameron just balled up the dirty clothes and threw them at Nik’s face. “Lose that grin, idiot.”

Nik caught the bundle easily and stuck his tongue out. “You like it.” Cameron rose a brow at him, and Nik’s nose wrinkled, but that smile fell, even if Cam did catch a small one while Nik put the clothes in the dirty clothes bin.

Cameron picked her up and sat her up while he put the ghastly bow around her head. He was surprised enough to see her sitting at all, even if she was a little wobbly. Cam got down to eye level and pointed at her. “Get this dirty, and you’re sleeping in it.”

Eden screeched at him hard enough she nearly fell on her face. Cameron rose a brow, pressing a finger to her forehead to keep her upright. “If you break your head, don’t cry to me about it,” he said, dryly.

She had just given him a toothless smile when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. “Hold that thought,” Cameorn told her as he fished his phone out of his pocket, sighing internally. “Just Lev,” he muttered.

Lev: how’s the baby girl?

Cameron had almost put away the phone, when Nik’s name popped up.

Nik: I put her in a pink tutu 😏

Lev’s reply was almost instant.

Lev: Pictures? Pls???

Nik: hmmm

Cameron rolled his eyes and looked at Eden. “They’re both dumbasses.”

Lev: pleeeaaaassssseeeeeee

Nik: HMMMM

Lev: Don’t be a tease :(

“Oh my gods,” Cameron muttered. He looked at Eden. “Sit still.” He took a few pictures of the wiggling baby demon and sent them into the chat.

Cam: Here.

Lev: TELL HER SHE LOOKS BEAUTIFUL 😭

Cam: She’s six months old. I doubt she cares.

Nik: ok but /I/ care. No kid of mine is going to be fucking ugly

Lev: Nik. :/

Nik: not all of us can be so altruistic, Levant. It’s just the way things are

“I didn’t think you knew that big of words,” Cameron said, loudly enough for Nik to hear him from the other room.

“Fuck you,” Nik said. “Just because I choose to act like a dumbass doesn’t mean I am one.”

“Mmm.” Cameron looked down at the wiggly baby. “He is a dumbass. Smart people do not sit outside in the dead of winter to freeze to death. There are much more productive ways to die,” he sighed, bending down to pick her up. “Come on. We need to go buy Nik’s bracelets.”

---

Lev pressed the baby blanket to his face, as if his parents scents would still cling to them after over a century. The only thing he got was a nose full of dust. He sneezed, dropping the blanket in his lap.

“This stuff is gonna have to be washed,” he said, before sneezing again.

“I was planning on it, little bird,” Raziel said patiently. She tucked a scrap of blue cloth back in the box in front of her, and then added, “I’ll hold on to the boy clothes for a few years longer. Who knows what your next child will be.”

Lev snorted. “As nice as that is, you might as well wait for Amara or Reneé to have a boy. I don’t think Cameron will want any more after Eden. He didn’t want Eden. This is going to be the only kid I get to have.”

Raziel hummed softly. “Alright, little bird.”

Lev shot her a look, but just pulled out an old stuffed animal. “Oh, I remember this. Does Amara know you’ve got Mr. Stuffykins?”

Raziel laughed. “No. Well, sort of. Best not to give that to Eden. Amara may come looking for him one day. She never did finish her childhood.”

“Gramma,” Lev warned, before she could go into one of her well practiced lectures. “She’s not even here. Kind of rude.”

“Hmph.” Raziel watched him pull out another stuffed animal. “That one belonged to your father, you know.”

Lev ran his fingers along the calico cat stuffed animal. “Glad to see we were both cat people.”

“Yes, well.”

----

Shopping had proved to be harder than Nik had originally thought it would. Apparently carrying a screaming infant throughout a high end store was frowned upon by clerks and customers alike. They had gotten Eden some new clothes as well while they were out, and was on their way home when Nik said, “Can we go see my brother?”

Cameron flicked him a quick look. “Which brother.”

“Preferably the one who doesn’t converse like drying paint.”

Cameron sighed quietly enough Nik almost didn’t hear it. “You’re going to keep hounding me until I say yes, aren’t you.”

“I might,” Nik said.

Cameron’s only response was an eyeroll. Just about when Nik thought Cameron decided to endure Nik’s whining, the car turned into the lane that went through Liwen. Nik looked in the mirror at Eden who was babbling to herself and chewing on her coat sleeve. “Does that kid ever not chew on something?”

“Does your mouth ever shut?” Cameron retorted.

Nik groaned. “You are so mean to me. It was just a question, you jackass.”

“Stupid questions require stupid answers, Nikolas,” was all Cameron said, when the manor house came into view. “I am not responsible for any blood being shed,” he said, pulling into the drive. Nik gave him a confused look, but said nothing as the car parked. “Carry the child.”

Nik got Eden out of the car and followed Cameron to the front of the house. He had been here… probably once or twice a while back dragging Ash out of bed when he lived with Maikel, but other than that he avoided this place as often as he could. Was bad enough his dad was BFFs with the bastard, he didn’t want to see their bromance anymore than his dad wanted to see him.

Cameron knocked on the door and Nik had to deal with Eden’s tiny hands clawing at his hair before the door finally opened. A good looking man with black hair that brushed his shoulders and electric blue eyes was standing in front of him. Nik’s eyes traveled the length of his body as he grinned. “Hi. Has anyone ever told you you look exactly like the prick king himself?” Nik asked. “Just hotter.” The smile instantly vanished from the man’s face. “Too soon?”

He ignored Nik’s comment, looking from Nik, to Eden to Cameron and back to Eden. “I guess it’s not just a Lev problem anymore, is it?”

Nik was not expecting Cameron to throw a punch, and he was definitely not expecting the very attractive man to catch the fist, and he definitely was not expecting Cameron to knee him in the balls. Nik winced and stepped back before either he or Eden ended up between the measuring contest. “Stars above, clearly you two need a room.”

The man’s teeth bared and Nik barely had time to register the fist in Cameron’s face. Cameron hadn’t even blinked, let alone flinched when Nik had heard the bones fracture in Cameorn’s nose. Nate got between them before Cameron had the chance to retaliate. “Then next person who swings is dealing with me,” Nate said, coldly. “There is a damned baby right there. And my very pregnant mate is in this house. Do you really want on my bad side.”

Nik could almost feel the undercurrent of power that Nate had- and he knew precisely how hard it was to piss Nate off to the point he got downright murderous. And that usually involved someone getting hurt- or even worse, his mate getting threatened.

“Sorry,” the man muttered.

Cameron didn’t even blink at Nate. “He started it,” he said, mildly.

When the man tensed, clearly ready for another fight, Nate grabbed him by the ear. “Silas,” he scolded.

The man- Silas- lifted his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry.”

Nik forced himself to not flinch.

But Nate leveled Silas a stern look before letting go of his fucking ear. “You better be.” He looked at Cameron. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” he said, flatly. “Getting in a fight in front of a child like that. What if she got hurt? It’s not like Nik has the magic to be able to protect her from your measuring contest.”

“Hey,” Nik protested.

Nate flashed him an apologetic look, but just turned back to Cameron. “Not that I doubt someone like you care.”

Eden just kept up her happy wiggling in his arms, kicking her legs like her father getting punched in the face was a damned spectator sport.

Cameron didn’t seem phased by Nate’s blunt words, even if his brows did lower, just a fraction. “That’s why we don’t let you make the decisions, Nathaniel,” Cameron said, coolly. “Anyways, I came to see my brother.”

He then straightened his nose before pushing past Nate, completely dismissing every single one of them, before turning around and taking Eden from him. Nik frowned. “Did you have me carry her because you wanted to punch Silas.”

“Yes,” was all Cameron said, while disappearing down the hallway.

Nik blatantly stared after Cameron’s ass before turning back to Silas and Nate. “So. Anyways. I’m Nik. You must be Silas. The Silas, am I right? I must thank you for the booty shorts. They are. Nice.”

The anger on Silas’ face shifted to confusion, then more confusion, then to realization,and back to confusion, and then to being pleased. “He still has those?”

“Mmm. He does. I got Lev to give me a fashion show. Gave him head for it,” Nik said, sliding his hands in his pockets. “Definitely enjoyed that.”

Nate looked annoyed on Silas’ behalf when Silas looked at Nate. “Why didn’t you tell me your brother was just like him.”

Nate looked apologetic. “He was dropped on his head?” Nate offered.

“Well what’s Adrien’s excuse,” Nik asked.

Nate smiled. “He flew into a wall.”

Silas turned back to Nik. “How’s Lev?”

“I don’t know, how is Lev?”

Silas looked annoyed. “I don’t know, I haven’t seen him in months. I went from training him everyday to radio silence.”

“My fault, I’m afraid,” Nik said. “I keep him busy.”

Nate rubbed his forehead, tired. “Nik,” he said, exasperated. “Will you leave the poor bastard alone.”

Nik couldn’t stop the pout. “But I’m bonding.” He felt bad enough, he offered, “He’s, uh, with his grandma? Nice lady. Cameron was going to pluck her feathers out.”

Silas seemed to take it as an acceptable enough answer. “Okay. Is he at least training? With his magic at least?”

“Uh.” Nik winced. “I mean? He’s definitely getting a work out?”

Silas looked so pained. “He promised me he’d work on his magic. Even if we can’t train the way we used to.” Nik instantly picked up on that.

“Oh?” he said. “Oh, do tell. How was that.”

Silas looked both embarrassed and smug at the same time. Nate just looked pained, when Silas said, “I just needed to find the right motivation to get him to make his shadows solid.” Nik couldn’t stop the sharp jab of jealousy that hit him when Silas used his magic to make a solid black ball that he underhandedly tossed it to Nik, saying, “Lev could do this too, if he just believed in himself. After that, the options are limitless.”

Nik’s face prickled when he tossed him back the ball, shoving his hands back into his hoodie pockets. “You sound like a regular infomercial. You should be proud,” he said. Nate looked at him, like that and Nik just cut him a look warning him to not say shit.

Silas looked a little uncomfortable as he waved away the ball of magic. “But all jokes aside, if he can’t use it as a weapon, he can use it as a shield. Hiding won’t save him forever.”

“Better offense than a good defense,” Nik muttered. “At least that’s what Papi always says.”

Nate made a sound of almost disapproval mixed with just miserable acknowledgement. It was an effort to not look at Nate’s ringed hand, knowing how those scars had happened. Father of the fucking year.

Nik forced his attention back up to Silas. “So. You and Lev, huh?”

Silas looked a little pained and embarrassed. “That’s… old news. Older than you news.” But under his breath he said, “I cannot believe Lev is robbing cradles.”

Nate choked and gave Silas an incredulous look. Nik just frowned. “Yes, Silas, I am very aware of my elaborate daddy issues. You don’t need to spell it out for me. Have you seen Cameron.”

“Lev is the furthest thing from a father figure as you can get,” Silas said. “He’s small and he’s soft. He’s the one that needs taken care of.”

“I’d have thought stereotyping bottoms is beneath you,” Nik said. Nate rolled his eyes heavenward and just turned around and left them alone, clearly not wanting to hear about Nik’s sex life. Stars, he probably hadn’t had sex in months, the poor bastard.

Silas huffed out a laugh. “Lev’s not a bottom.”

“Excuse me?” Nik wasn’t sure what he had meant to say, but that definitely wasn’t it. “I think I’ve fucked him enough times.”

“He’s fucked me enough times.”

Nik blinked. “Are you saying I’ve been doing all the work. Stars, I’m going to kill him. He could have been fucking me,” he muttered, taking out his phone. He almost texted Lev before deciding against it, and just put it back in his pocket.

Silas just kept watching him in amusement. “Well, Lev’s not going to bring it up. Do you know how many times it took me to convince him I wanted him to?”

Nik eyed Silas from head to toe. Six foot three and pure muscle. The image of the scrawny five foot eight angel fucking him, did amuse Nik. “Oh I believe it,” Nik said. Unable to stop himself, he also said, “Is that why you’re still carrying a torch for him. And does that have anything to do with your unbridled hatred for Cameron? Because now he is fucking him?”

Any and all amusement was wiped from Silas’ face, but it didn’t erase Nik’s. “It’s not like I broke up with him willingly.” He paused, and said, “The hatred for Cameron is because he’s a fucking asshole.”

“Then why did you break up with him?” NIk asked. “Because Daddy said so? Also, Cam being a prick is part of his appeal. He’s fun to play with.”

“Dad didn’t make me break up with him.” Anger rolled across Silas’ face as he was looking away, clearly not mad at him, but at someone. “After what Dad put him through, I wasn’t going to let him stay.”

“So, instead of standing up to your idiot father, you kicked Lev to the curb?” Nik asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. “That worked out real well for Lev.”

“I thought it was a good idea at the time,” Silas said. “I didn’t want another significant other dying because my dad didn’t approve of them.”

“Then you should have done something about your father,” Nik said, like he had the balls to do something about his own prick father. Nik was sure he was still halfway afraid of him, but he didn’t have to worry about it since Az’ril didn’t show up in Demon Territory.

Silas leveled him a look. “You do not stand up to Maikel,” he said. “Son or not. No matter how old you are. You’re still going to end up on the floor. Ask me how I know.”

Nik met that steady look eye for eye. “Someone did,” he said. “And she’s still breathing. And he is not.”

“You do not have a monopoly on daddy issues. I was never going to be able to stand up to him; not in the way that mattered.”

“No,” Nik agreed. “I do not. But I would still stand up to Az’ril for both Cameron and Lev. And I did. Basically why I’m all but fallen. I’m sure the moment I stepped foot in my father's house I will get dewinged for having a backbone.”

“Then you should probably not step foot in your father's house,” Silas said, before immediately wincing. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Nik gave him a sharp, humorless smile. “Like I said, elaborate daddy issues.”

“I didn’t know what was going on with Lev,” Silas said. “I tried distancing myself so he wouldn’t be at the center of Maikel’s attention.”

So he ended up trading one monster for another. “And since I am a betting man, I am willing to bet you now regret that decision.”

Looking both guilty and pained, Silas said, “I should have stuck around- kept an eye on him. I didn’t know he’d go for the most territorial alpha he could find.”

Nik wasn’t sure what all Silas knew about Lev and Remiel, but that was another story for another day. “Cameron tore into him,” Nik said. “That venom… is potent.”

“Death is still too good for him,” he said. “Does Lev know?”

“He, uh, had a mental breakdown over it,” Nik said. “Cameron just used alpha bullshit to justify it. I’m sure you understand.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Nik said, waving him off. “He has a baby.”

Silas looked so confused. “And you talk to me about stereotyping.”

“Stereotyping?” Nik asked. “Lev is the reason that baby is not dead in a ditch. He was all googly eyes and mama birding that poor baby the moment he saw her. Trust me. I am not stereotyping. Now saying I was fine because I have a baby, is definitely stereotyping.”

“...Oh.”

--------

Bay stared warily at the wiggling baby in Cameron’s arms. The thing was chewing on her sleeve gleefully as she tried clawing at Cameron’s face. “You… have a baby?” he said, dumbly enough, he winced as soon as he said it. “I imagine Lev is over the moon.”

Cameron gave him an irritated look as he sat down in the rocking chair across from him. “Clearly.” The baby screeched at him while smacking Cameron in the face. He cut her a sharp look and pried her tiny fingers away from his face. “Stop it.”

Her only response was a halfway scream loud enough Bay winced. He rested his hand on his belly, praying that Lucas wasn’t that. “Sucks to be you,” he told Cameron.

Cameron flicked him a cool look. “At least I don’t have to be pregnant.”

“At least my kid isn’t a little monster,” Bay shot back.

“Yet,” was all Cameron said.

Fear jolted down Bay’s spine but he just looked unimpressed at his half brother. He had opened his mouth in retort when Nate came into the nursery with disgust on is face. Bay rose a brow. “What’s wrong with you?”

“My brother is being disgusting,” was all Nate said, going over to Cameron. “Give me the child.”

“No.”

“Yes,” Nate said. “If I have to break up your pissing contest with Silas, then I get to hold the baby. I’m clearly the only parent in this house.” Bay frowned and Nate looked at him. “Except for you.”

“Hmph.” Bay looked back at Cameron. “Is that why your nose is broken? Can you not defend yourself?”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed at him, but Nate used Cameron’s divided attention to steal his baby. She wiggled in his arms, giggling happily when Nate kissed her cheek. “Such a pretty child from such an ugly man. Amazing.”

Cameron looked dryly at Nate. “I am not ugly.”

“Your heart is,” Nate said, glibly, sitting down next to Bay. He kissed her fingers and smiled down at her. “You, on the other hand, are a cutie, Eden.” Eden kept wiggling in Nate’s lap, chewing on her shirt while he looked her over, clearly making sure she wasn’t hurt. “I can’t believe she’s still alive,” he said, mostly to himself. “I can’t imagine you or Nik have anything to do with that,” Nate directed at Cameron.

Cameron’s brows flattened. “Clearly you lack imagination.”

Nate just ignored him and kept smiling at Eden. He perked up and looked at Bay. “Wanna hold her?”

Bay gave the baby demon a long, long look. Eden reached a small hand at Bay and Bay frowned at her, and at the drool that was dribbling down her chin. He wasn’t stupid enough to think babies weren’t messy but still, he didn’t want covered in demon baby slobber. “Do I have to?”

“Afraid of a baby?” Cameron asked. “A little late considering your condition, don’t you think?”

Bay grabbed the nearest toy and threw it at Cameron’s head. “Shut up.” He looked back at Eden, trying to keep the distaste off his face. “Clean her up and put something in her mouth so she stops chewing on her shirt.”

Nate hummed happily while immediately got up and did as told. He wiped the drool from Eden’s chin and popped a yellow and green pacifier in Eden’s mouth. He kissed the top of her head. “There, now you aren’t chewing through that brand new sweater,” he said down at her.

Eden gnawed happily on the pacifier while Nate brought her over to Bay. Bay carefully took her and then realized he couldn’t sit her on his lap. Tears instantly starting welling. “I can’t sit her on my lap,” his voice broke.

“Gods, just sit her on your stomach, you crybaby,” Cameron said.

“Shut up, Cameron,” Bay snapped as soon as Nate said, “Cameron.”

Bay forced himself to blink back the tears and sat her on his too big belly. “I will never be pregnant again,” he muttered, wiping his face. He chose to ignore the too neutral look on Nate’s face and looked down at Eden instead. She wasn’t as wiggly as she had been with Nate and luckily was calm on his belly as she lightly touched his face. He wrinkled his nose at her tiny sharp nails. “She needs her nails cut.”

“Shut up,” Cameron said, irritably.

Bay looked at him with raised brows. “What?”

“I know she needs her nails cut; It’ll get done eventually.”

Bay rolled his eyes and looked back down at the tiny demon baby. “You poor kid.” Eden’s only response was pulling at her tutu. “I refuse to believe you put her in this,” Bay said, to his still frowning brother.

Cameron grunted. “I did not. I have taste.”

“Mm, where?” Nate asked, flicking Cameron a head to toe look.

Cameron’s lips curled faintly. “I am more than willing to let you find out.”

Bay swallowed his growl, and looked back down at Eden, who was trying her damndest to get the tutu off. Next to him, Nate said, “I don’t have the time to waste.”

“Will you please stop your measuring contest,” Bay said, exasperated. “We get it, you hate each other.” Nate kissed the top of his head apologetically, curling up against Bay’s side. Bay half whined, “Stop ittt. You keep crowding me.” Nate pouted, but before Nate could pull back, Bay hooked his fingers in Nate’s thigh. “Stay.” When Nate huffed an amused laugh, Bay pouted. “Stop laughing at meee.”

Eden wiggled impatiently in Bay’s lap, clearly getting annoyed he wasn’t giving her enough attention. Bay pressed his lips to the top of her head, inhaling the pure baby scent. “I don’t think she likes her clothes,” he observed, watching her continuously tearing at the tutu.

“That’s because she has taste,” Cameron said.

“Or because she’s an infant,” Nate said.

Cameron had just rolled his eyes when Silas appeared in the doorway with Nate’s brother. He eyed Eden on Bay’s stomach. “So, this is Lev’s baby. She seems… energetic.”

“It’s the crack,” Nik said, cheerfully.

Bay frowned, but Nate’s frown was deeper. “I really hope you’re joking.” Nik’s eyeroll was answer enough for Nate as he turned back to the baby on Bay’s stomach and kissed the top of Eden’s head. “You poor baby,” Nate teased. “I hope you give him hell.”

“Are you being this fussy because you haven’t been laid in six months?” Nik asked.

Bay’s face inflamed, but it was Nate’s turn to throw a toy at Nik’s head. “Are you this fussy because you haven’t been laid in three days?” Nate asked, sharply.

“Yes I am,” Nik said, barely catching the toy block before it smacked him in the face. “We’ve been busy.”

Nate’s smile was far too sweet to be actually genuine. “And you’ll keep being busy. Poor you. For what? The next eighteen years at least.” Nik’s face paled at least three shades while he looked at the baby starting to fuss in Bay’s lap, still tearing at her tutu.

“Well, clearly she thinks you’re wrong,” Nik observed.

“Or she’s tired,” Cameron said, annoyed.

Nate said, “She can nap here, if you want.”

Nik chewed on his bracelets absently while Cameorn got up from the chair to pick her up. “I don’t want. We came, we’re going. Nik?”

“We just got hereee.”

“Then stay.” Cameron said, unfazed by Nik pouting. He pulled the still fussy baby into his chest and walked out of the room. Nate shot him an amused look before getting up and following after when Nik started going with Cameron, leaving Bay alone with Silas. “Going to be getting into any more fights around infants?” Bay asked, dryly.

Shame flickered across Silas’ face. “Cameron started it,” he muttered.

“And I’m finishing it,” Bay said. “If you get into anything like that around Lucas, you can say goodbye to being anywhere near him. I am not going to risk my baby getting hurt over some alpha pissing contest.”

Silas instantly sobered up. “I understand. Won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t,” Bay said, settling into the couch. “And give me that blanket.”

------

Reneé pulled up in Cameron’s driveway. After sitting there for a long moment, she leaned forward on the steering wheel and squinted up at the mansion. “No wonder Mar likes to hang out with Nik, if he’s shacking up with a guy who lives here,” she muttered. She got out of Cin’s car, spinning the keys around her finger once. It was cold enough she could see her breath in front of her. How demons could stand this weather, she didn’t know.

With a small sigh, she marched right up the steps. Before she could even get to the door to knock, the sentry standing there moved in front of it, hand dropping to his sword. “Who are you?”

Reneé blinked, rubbing her arms. “Reneé Claire. Lev’s cousin.”

The sentry’s stony expression didn’t waver. “Is that supposed to mean anything to me?” He said.

Reneé huffed. “Lev does live here doesn’t he?” She asked, before sighing. “I know Nik, too. Makes the best empanadas I’ve ever eaten, and Amara’ll swear by that too, if she’s in a good mood.”

The sentry didn’t say a damn word for a good long moment, but in the end he stepped aside for her. Reneé eyed him suspiciously, but stepped up to knock anyway. And a second time, when several minutes went by. And again, when-

The door swung open, to reveal Nik.

“You look like shit,” Reneé said without thinking. She stood by it, though.

Nik gave her the flattest look she’d ever seen. “Wow. First of all, I never look like shit-”

“There’s a first time for everything,” she said, cutting him off. “Let me in, it’s freezing. We can bicker inside.”

“Why are you here?” Nik asked, not moving.

“Because I heard you and Lev had acquired a baby and I wanted to see. Besides, you’re never around anymore.” Reneé crossed her arms.

Nik’s smile was thin. “Miss me?”

“Well, yeah. Mar-mar can’t cook for shit, and you’re the one with a sense of humor. Besides, who else is gonna take me to the beach. I can't get her within a hundred miles of one.” She widened her eyes at him. “Let me in, Nik. I can hear the baby screaming from here, and I’m betting you want it to stop.”

“We can handle it,” Nik replied, defensively Reneé thought.

Reneé lifted an eyebrow. “I love you, Nik, you’re a far better older brother than Amara will ever be, but you know jack shit about babies and I can tell that with one look at you.” She tried to duck past him, and was stopped by Nik’s hand on her forehead. She stomped her foot. “Nik. I won’t even tell Amara you left me on the fucking porch in the cold so you could jerk your own ego.”

Nik leaned against the doorway. “Does she even know you’re here?”

Reneé flushed hotly. “Does it matter? She’d be pissed either way. Mad at me for coming, mad at you for leaving me to freeze. Best to keep her anger pointed at me. She’ll forgive me quicker.”

All Nik did was smile faintly. “Are you sure about that?”

“With how often you come to visit now? Or should I say, how little you come over? Uh, yeah.”

She was a little satisfied with the flash of guilt in his expression. “Yeah, yeah, come on in, then. Before you freeze your ass off.”

“Thank you,” Reneé said primly, scooting past. She still stopped to kiss his cheek, though, before shrugging off her heavy coat. “Seriously, though, don’t tell Mar I was here. She doesn’t want me around Cameron.”

“Yeah, no, I’m not telling her shit. She’ll get mad at me for you being around Cameron,” Nik said, taking her coat from her and throwing it at a sentry.

Reneé patted his cheek. “That’s what I thought. So do I just follow the sound of the screaming infant or are you going to show me to them? I’m assuming Lev is with the baby?”

“You assume wrong. Lev’s not here,” Nik said, heading down the hall. “He’s abandoned us in our time of need.”

“Where is he?” Reneé trotted after Nik. “And slow down, Nik, my legs aren’t that long.”

Nik didn’t even bother, which left Reneé to awkwardly hustle after him. Her annoyance vanished as she peeked into what was obviously a nursery to find a very pale man in a suit holding an equally pale baby who was clearly not having any of this. The poor thing was flushed grey in the face with how loud she was screaming, arching her back awkwardly. Reneé was impressed with how the man was staying calm in the face of such fierce tears, though he looked downright exhausted.

“Stars, please let me help you,” Reneé said without thinking.

The man slowly turned his attention to her. It was impressive how imposing he could seem while holding a screaming infant. “Who the fuck are you?”

Reneé paused, considering her answer. “I’m Reneé. Lev’s cousin,” she finally said, before adding, “Amara’s little sister.”

He stared at her a long moment before saying, “And what do you know about babies? Aren’t you like, twelve?”

Reneé bit back a retort. Maybe she did spend too much time with Amara. “I’m eighteen,” she corrected him lightly. “And I know a little. Amara was supposed to take a class on this sort of stuff, and I did her homework for her so she could pass high school and keep a roof over our heads at the same time. I still remember most of it, it was only a few years ago.” She flicked a look at Nik, pursing her lips to keep another comment at bay.

The man switched his attention to Nik. “And what about you?”

Nik winced. “I don’t remember ninety-five percent of school, Cameron. I was stoned the entire time.”

Reneé cleared her throat. “Check and see if her bottom front teeth are coming in. You should be able to feel it under the gums, if they are. It might be why she’s so fussy; teething hurts.”

Cameron checked, much to her relief, even if the baby tried to bite down viciously when he did. “I can feel one. Now what.”

Reneé hesitated, thinking. “If you don’t have teething rings yet, probably get one. Give her something cold to chew on until? Like, I don’t know, a frozen washcloth? Mar swears my parents rubbed whiskey on our gums, but she might be talking out of her ass, and it’s not like I can ask them. Uh, if she’s really in pain, they make baby pain medicine, too. Might help her sleep if her mouth doesn’t hurt constantly.”

Cameron looked over at Nik, who turned around and left. After Nik was gone, Cameron gave Reneé a slow once over. “So has Nik slept with you too?”

Reneé made a face. “No offense to Nik, but ew. He’s more like an older brother. When he bothers to show up.”

Cameron shrugged. “I don’t hold his leash. Usually.”

Reneé tried her best not to make another face. Even with Nik and Amara not in the room she couldn’t escape those sorts of comments. “I didn’t expect you too. Not your fault Lev’s suddenly more interesting.” She paused. “Not Lev’s fault either. He’s too sweet for it.”

Cameron shrugged. He offered his finger to the baby, who immediately started chewing on it. At least it got her to stop screaming, though big fat tears still slid down her cheeks.

“Try rubbing her gums, if you can?” Reneé offered. “Just a little.”

The look Cameron flicked her didn’t make her feel any more comfortable, but he did as she suggested. It seemed to help, so Reneé leaned against the doorway to wait for Nik. He seemed to take his sweet time showing up, but Reneé was proved right; the baby chewed contentedly on the wash cloth the moment they got it in her mouth.

So,” Nik said conversationally, “Where are you staying while Amara has her tri-monthly fuck fest?”

Reneé grimaced. “First off, ew. Second, just... around. Places.”

Cameron spoke up. “Lie again and you’re leaving.”

Reneé flicked him a look. “I’m couchsurfing. So. Around. Not quite sure who I’m staying with tonight, but I’ll figure it out. I’m a big girl.”

She watched the way Nik looked to Cameron, and the resigned expression on Cameron’s face.

“Nik, no,” she said before Nik could say anything. “I’m fine, and Amara would kill you if she knew you let me stay longer than I already have.”

“Nik, yes. You are not fine, and Amara would rip my balls off if I didn’t let you stay with me when you didn’t have anywhere to go. I am very attached to my balls. And so is Cameron.”

Cameron, to his credit, just rolled his eyes.

Reneé shook her head. “I’ve got the whole day to figure it out. I don't want to be too much of a bother. I just wanted to see you and Lev and the baby and then scoot along on my merry way.”

Nik’s smile was too sharp. “And who said that was an option?”

Reneé pursed her lips. “And I think that’s my cue to leave.” When she made a move for the door, Nik stepped in her way. “Really, Nik?”

“Reneé.” Cameron’s voice from behind startled her. She turned, eyeing him warily. That was all he had to say, apparently, but Reneé wasn’t stupid enough to miss the warning.

Facing Nik again, she said, more resigned than anything, “This is less hospitality and more kidnapping, you know that, right?”

“I consider it aggressive hospitality,” Nik replied glibly. “And you’re not a kid.”

Reneé rolled her eyes. “I could have just asked Gramma to let me stay with her. It’ll piss off Amara just as much.”

“Maybe next time you should think about showing up unannounced.”

“Right. See if I come visit you ever again,” Reneé shot back. She huffed, just to make sure Nik knew she was displeased, before glancing over at the baby. She seemed to have fallen asleep on Cameron’s shoulder, periodically sucking on the washcloth she had loosely held in her little fist.

@idreamonpaper @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @halstudies @alittleyellowdinosaur

#hell to pay #ch: cameron #ch: nik #writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #amwriting

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cozycryptidcorner · 5 years ago

Photo

Barriers

Hey guys! Here is another commissioned piece from a user who wishes to remain anonymous and their beautiful range of human, werewolf, vampire, and incubus oc’s. Please enjoy this short, and be sure to thank the author for commissioning the piece.

Sienna isn’t stupid. Or maybe she is, she wouldn’t know. A normal person wouldn’t be out and about, balancing on the very edge of the barrier that keeps all the monster out of the real world and in their own little hellish pit, but here she is, arms outstretched, taking it one careful step at a time. Maybe if she didn’t have as much time to meander on home, she wouldn’t take the extraordinary risk of teetering at the very literal edge of human civilization. Unfortunately, though, she has the hubris of the gods that nestle in the caves beneath her feet, and so when a gust of wind blows by, she doesn’t feel a smidge of fear as it knocks her over.

Pain, yes, she feels that. It explodes at her side, the dull smack of dirt and grit ramming against her arm faster than the rest of her body. Oh, yeah, that smarts, and she has to turn off all other senses just to focus on the air intake of her lungs. Her bones and muscles feel like they’ve been rattled around in a maraca, which is probably a good thing? She hopes? Sienna would assume that if anything broke, it would be so bad her nerves might just freeze entirely, so, hopefully, at worse, something is just sprained.

After a few moments to recollect herself, she manages to wobble to a stand, blood on her mouth, and she takes one moment to look up at the flickering barrier dome over the sky before she fully comprehends how absolutely fucked she really is. Like, seriously. As in right up the ass, because even though just about anything and everything can accidentally come knocking in through the barrier, there are, unfortunately, only four points that you can then exit on out from here. And that’s just great.

Sienna’s lungs seize up again, though no longer from pain, but from terror, because now the realization of being trapped finally, fully sets in. Oh, god, the nearest exit is four miles away, how the fuck is she going to manage to get there? Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath, she doubles over, staring at the dirt as she gets a hold of herself. Four miles isn’t even that long, really, this is going to be… not easy, but not nearly as difficult as being dropped in one of those dead zones, with gates to escape from for hundreds of miles. Four? One day. She just has to survive one day.

Immediately, she gets her bearings, turning around towards the direction she knows the gate is. Sienna can do this, most definitely, she just has to be quick about it, leaving no trace of her presence left behind. Running will exhaust her a little too quickly, and tiring herself out when she could at any moment be… chased…

Something rustles off where the forest sprouts out from the ground, in the moving ferns that Sienna is certain are only flickering because of the wind. She bites her lip down hard enough for it to bleed again, picking up her pace, focusing her eyes straight ahead. Really, even if something is stalking her, Sienna really doesn’t want to give it the thrill of the chase, so she refuses to start running, even when every instinct inside of her is lighting up with fear. Calm, be calm, she tells herself, shoulders hunched as she hugs the very end of the dropoff where the barrier meets the ground.

Judging only by the quiet pattering of feet behind her, she’s being followed. Which is great, honestly, maybe she’ll be torn apart, she could definitely use the rearranging of her internal organs this time of year. Having everything in one place is kind of boring, after all. Might as well call for a bit of a change.

Since pretending the problem doesn’t exist isn’t quite making it go away as she hoped, Sienna decides that the next best course of action would be to face it head-on. She turns around, taking a step backward as if to continue her pace, and there, just within an arm’s reach of her body, a fucking vampire. Dark, grayish skin, terrifyingly flawless to the naked eye, and bright golden eyes that make her freeze like a fucking deer. She takes another step back, just to widen the gap between them, and runs into something tall and muscular.

Turning around, Sienna’s heart falters even further to find a- another vampire? No, not a vampire, it must be one of those were-things, she realizes, his blue eyes far too vibrant to be that of a walking corpse. Her entire body tenses up, and on instinct, she turns around to flee, except oh, right, the fucking vampire is in the other direction, and now a new not-person? Sienna goes right into fight or flight, and honestly, right now, it’s looking like fight is the only out.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Sienna says, standing up a bit taller. “Can I help you?”

“I sure hope you can,” the werewolf says, baring his fangs in a broad grin, “I’m just starving, no human has been stupid enough to fall through the barrier in the better half of a decade.”

Sienna tries to brush off the fact he calls her stupid, shrugging her shoulders and throwing up a quick facade of indifference. If nothing else, she’s not going to make her death fun for them. “Just passing on by, but the wind was a little too much, so I might have taken a nosedive in a downward direction. If you’d just let me pass, I’ll be right on my way.”

“I don’t think so,” the werewolf says, “since that isn’t nearly a good enough reason to let you go.”

“Well,” Sienna is already grasping at straws, “what would be a good enough reason for you?”

“Sending your mauled body back in a bag, certainly.”

“Huh.” She makes a shifty movement to the side in what she hopes only seems like a nervous jitter. “That doesn’t seem very fair, I only came here by accident, and I was just about to leave.”

The blond one straightens, giving her a glare. “Luca,” he says, almost in a warning.

The werewolf either doesn’t hear or care, mouth curled up into a snarling grin. “Well isn’t that a sha-”

Sienna kicks him right in the groin, and to a devastating effect, but she doesn’t stick around. She runs past the werewolf at full speed. Her legs fly like they never have before, and yet, yet, she makes it only a single yard before she’s tackled down, the grass burning holes through her black jeans and burning her knees from friction. Tears threaten to sting her eyes as her body lifts off the ground, her jacket in the tight grip of the vampire.

“Hi.” She says, sniffing away the tears. “Can I help you?”

He tosses her back, at the feet of the werewolf, whose eyes look just a tad bit angrier and puffed than before.

“Sorry,” Sienna doesn’t think that apologizing will do anything, but might as well try. “I would just like to-”

He grabs her throat, and while she tries kicking again, but he already knows that trick, so he’s able to wrestle her body away from the hitting radius. The werewolf- Luca, she thinks, wants to bite her, she can see it in his eyes, and she doesn’t know what she’s going to do now because she won’t be able to fight him once he does, once he begins to slowly drain her life out of her body and oh god oh god oh god, tears, she’s crying. I don’t want to die, please don’t kill me, help, help, someone help-

“Oh, for god’s sake,” the vampire yanks her back, “look at her, Luca, she’s terrified. We’re letting this one go.”

Through her hiccups, she can’t even voice her agreement to the werewolf’s statement, but she offers up the nodding of her head. None of them bother to look at her, though, only finding each other’s agreement more important than hers. Which is probably par for the course, but here’s to hoping the werewolf can convince the other two that she’s not worth eating.

“How old are you?” The vampire asks the werewolf, “almost thirty. This kid can’t be older than you, and you think that terrorizing her is going to satisfy your sick fantasy of destroying mankind?”

Oh, Sienna hates all of this, but she doesn’t voice her concerns. The vampire and werewolf go back and forth, counterpointing each other with something among the lines of what if we ate the human, to I hear you there, but like what if we didn’t, all the while the other one… the blond one stays silent. Well, now that Sienna has a minute to look him over, his soft-looking hair actually looks like it has some pink in it, like an under dye, and also seems kind of familiar? Like she’s seen him before, but obviously, she hasn’t, because he’s probably been locked up here for longer than she’s been alive. Still. Those eerie rosewood eyes are like something out of a freakishly nightmarish fever dream.

“Alright, then,” the vampire says, placing a firm hand on Sienna’s shoulder, almost holding her in place, “it’s decided. We’re taking her back to the gate. Ace, can you make sure no one else is in the area?”

The incubus glares over at Sienna, as though she were to one to demand such a thing from him, but he complies, rolling his eyes up to concentrate on; however, he is doing it. “Nothing here.”

“Good, great. Let’s go.”

Sienna walks, moving her legs, sticking as close as possible to the vampire because, at the moment, he seems to be the least likely to kill her horribly. Especially the way the werewolf looks her over like he’s deciding just where on her body he’s going to bite first. The trail that hugs along the barrier seems to stretch out to infinity, feeling much longer than when she was walking through it alone, but she sticks her chin out and tries not to show her nervousness. Not that it would matter, probably because the vampire and werewolf can smell her actual fear, and that incubus is possibly shifting through her brain right at the moment.

“I am,” the incubus says.

“Awesome,” Sienna says, putting as much venom into the word as she could without outright being mean. Just because she likes being sarcastic doesn’t mean she also wants her head to get ripped off.

“I’m sure you don’t.”

Stop it, Sienna thinks back, trying to make her thoughts screech out like radio interference, but whether it works, the incubus doesn’t show. Her mouth thins out as she shoves her hands into her pockets, her brain a flurry of movement as she tries to figure out just how she’s going to get out of this mess should things begin to get out of hand like it did before.

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

Ick, the incubus again, still digging through her mind. “You guys haven’t given me a reason not to be concerned.”

“Devyn won’t let anything happen,” the incubus nods towards the vampire. “He’s already decided that you’re worth saving, so you’re saved.”

“Ace,” the vampire says in warning.

“She’s so worried,” the incubus says, annoyed, “it’s loud and overshadowing everything else.”

The vampire sets his hand on her shoulder, saying, “you know nothing is going to happen with us here, right?”

When the vampire says it with such conviction, Sienna believes him. She doesn’t feel like his buddies’ intentions are all that pure because really, they’re just doing what he’s telling them to. Honestly Sienna probably wouldn’t trust any of them not to kill her if they got the chance, the vampire’s support be damned, so she’s careful about her placement while she walks with the group so that she’s no within grabbing distance.

“Question!” She says because she’s always been curious about the goings-on inside the barrier, so might as well ask now while she can or forever hold her peace. “Do most humans get munched on if they accidentally fall in through the barrier?”

“Yes,” the werewolf snaps.

“Huh,” Sienna taps her lip with her finger. “That must be why no one likes you guys.”

The werewolf makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “That- that’s not even close to-”

“It depends,” the vampire says, looking like he’s about to give the werewolf a quick, playful wack. “Sometimes people wander in looking for something, oftentimes something that is attached to one of us. Monster bits are coveted among all circles, so to take a vampire’s fang or a werewolf’s ear would buy someone a whole house.”

“Oh,” Sienna says, suddenly focused on the way that she walks. “So when I fell in, you probably thought I was here for, um, that.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s why y’all were so cranky.”

“Cranky,” the vampire laughs, “sure, that’s a good word for it.”

“That’s really awful,” Sienna says, cringing at how obvious it is. “Random humans just hop through the barrier near the gates to hunt? Aren’t the guards supposed to find contraband from anyone who comes through? That’s what they tell you.”

“What’s five thousand dollars for a bribe when you’re about to make a hundred and fifty thousand?”

“The guards are all bribed?” This might not be the first time she’s heard it suggested, but its definitely the only time it’s ever been officially confirmed by someone with an insider’s view on the goings-on. “That’s- that’s terrible.”

“A farm,” the werewolf hisses, “this place is a farm for human use. They let us breed and live until they need to cut down on the population, then they harvest what they need and sell the pieces of our brothers and sisters to the highest bidder.”

“Luca, we’ve spoken about this,” the vampire says in a tired tone, “none of that is proven to be true. It’s all most likely conspiracy theory bullshit.”

“Don’t talk to me like you wouldn’t put it past them,” the werewolf snaps, “and don’t even get me started on how this has been done before to anyone they find subhuman, even their own people have been furrowed away into camps and slums to be kept quiet and exploited.”

“He does make sense,” Sienna says, nodding in the werewolf’s direction. “Honestly, I would believe it.”

“See? Even the human girl thinks it’s true.” The werewolf glares over at her, though no longer with the same disgust as before. “It’s only a matter of time before they slip, Luca, then you’ll see.”

“Enough.” The vampire rolls his eyes, trying to show how ridiculous he thinks the whole situation is. “Only pleasant things will be spoken for the rest of the walk back, alright? We don’t need to discuss a criminal underground right now.”

The werewolf lets out an angry puff of breath, then stares straight ahead, making sure that he doesn’t look back to either Sienna or the vampire in a sort of silent treatment that only a petulant immortal can fully accomplish. Sienna doesn’t try pressing for any more information, she doesn’t want to get either the vampire or werewolf riled up into an altercation. But, thankfully, up ahead, there’s a decent looking structure that parts the barrier like a zipper, a triangular building of steel and cement. That’s the barrier gate, she realizes, even though they’re still a good mile out, so she can’t make out much more details than that.

The armed guards start, holding guns with enough energy output to put down an elephant- or werewolf, easily. Every single one they pass, straight spine, glasses covering part of their stern expression, tighten their grips on their weapons, turning their heads as Sienna walks by. They’re questioning why she’s there, she can tell even without the incubus shuffling through their minds, but not a single one of them lifts a finger to help her approach the gate, much less ask if she’s okay. Not that she needs it, obviously, with her posse of immortal mean girls™ to fend off anyone else wanting to munch on her body, but if she did? Would the sweetly painted soldiers in their camo run to her aid? Or watch as she gets devoured by the monsters so they can justifiably shoot them afterward?

Sienna walks with her arms crossed, head held high. If she has to face the uncaring faces of those who don’t seem to have any concern over the state of things, she’s going to do it with some goddamn dignity. Maybe she could hold the vampire’s hand or something in protest to their shitty policies, but Sienna believes that might be a step too far. The gate lies just ahead now, military vehicles overlooking a line of people trying to make their way out.

“You have your identification papers, right?” The vampire asks, suddenly tense.

Just to double-check, she rummages around in her pocket, finding the passport among her house keys and phone. “Right here-”

“Don’t take it out yet, wait until we’re at customs. Anyone might try taking the papers for themselves, to forge, or to sell.”

“Right,” Sienna says, shoving it back down into her pocket, her fist closed around it as though someone might try to snatch it away via telekinesis. Which is a thing.

Despite the ridiculousness of the line, it moves fairly quickly, and Sienna is right in front of the customs office before she’s even ready. She turns around, throwing her arms around the vampire who saved her skin. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Thank you for listening,” he says, patting her back.

Much to her surprise, the incubus seems alright with shaking her hand, and even the werewolf gives her a non-hateful nod of goodbye. With a smile, she waves at the three of them, stepping back through the cold, sterile building.

#vampire #incubus #werewolf #human oc #exophilia #commissioned story #not a reader insert #sfw

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