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descendantofthesparrow · 4 years ago

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Shuffle Playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - Harry Hook x Reader - Part 14 - Discoveries

Evie hung one of the last dresses on the transportation rack, when a knock sounded on her door. She pushed the dresses apart for her to step on the other side and called out; “come in!” Doug entered moments later, a smile on his face.

“Hey! How was the camping trip?” Evie turned to him with furrowed brows.

“C-Camping?” Doug's smile diminished and he looked at her slightly confused.

“yeah?” He tilted his head at Evie “Carlos and Jay said you and the others went on a last-minute camping trip to relax?...is-is that not what you did?” Evie sighed, the questions running through her mind stopping as she realized what had happened.

“oh, um, yeah they lied to you” Doug looked a bit offended “you see, Ben was kidnapped on the isle” now he looked alarmed “let me finish, we saved him and saved Auradon” Doug let out a small sigh of relief and took Evie's hands.

“is everyone okay?” Evie looked off to the side for a moment “you hesitated what happened” She grimaced and shook her head a bit.

“um, well…you know how our parents are kinda pieces of shit?” Doug looked surprised at the swear but nodded “well… Harry's dad is…kinda really bad and…that didn’t turn out well on Harry's side…that’s all I’m saying” she gave a small smile and turned, grabbing some of Dizzy’s accessories that she had brought back with her and sliding some on her arm to carry easier.

“Is he okay now?” Doug asked quietly, stepping to her side and leaning into her field of vision.

“yes” Evie assured him “Mal healed him when we left the isle and he’s with (y/n) now, he should be just fine for cotillion tomorrow~” Doug nodded and gave Evie a small smile.

“that’s good, you had me really worried for a moment there, was anyone else hurt?” Evie thought for a moment then shook her head.

“Mal has a cut on her cheek but that was the worst of our end thankfully.” She gave another smile and looked back down at the accessories “you know…while I was there…I realized something” Doug put his hand on her shoulder “I was lucky enough to be given a chance, and now I need to give someone else a chance too” her mind flashed back to five months ago when Harry had asked Ben to bring Uma over, and maybe after cotillion she could ask about Dizzy?

“My uncle bashful used the say that” Doug switched the topic, sensing Evie was not in the mood to talk about what had happened on the isle with him. Evie smiled, happy with the sudden change and turned to him, her brow raised a bit.

“did he?” Doug nodded, then pursed his lips a bit.

“but, really-really quietly” Evie laughed, spinning around to face the transportation rack and gesturing to it.

“come on, we have dresses to deliver~!” Doug happily obliged to her non-verbal request and moved to the rack, pushing it as Evie pulled it out of the room.

Two hours later, after every dress had been delivered, Evie returned to her room and grabbed her last two outfits she had to deliver.

A red rose gown and a red and black suit.

She handed the outfits to Doug and dug into her bag again, finding the red ruby earrings with small crossbones skulls hanging from the top. “perfect” she muttered, carefully holding them in her hand and leading Doug to (y/n)s room.

She knocked on the door, humming as a couple of moments passed by and no response came. She knocked again and sighed when again no response came, she gently opened the door and cooed as she looked inside the room.

On (y/n)s bed was her and Harry, curled up together under her many blankets as soft yellow fairy lights hung above them, the title screen of a movie playing on her tv.

Evie snuck into the room, gesturing Doug to be quiet as she set (y/n)s new earrings on her desk and motioned for Doug to hang hers and Harry's outfits on her closet door.

Evie spotted (y/n)s notepad on her desk and wrote out a small thank you note, pinning it to her corkboard that hung just next to her desk.

She ushered Doug out and turned, smiling at the sleeping couple, and slowly closed the door behind her, shushing it as it shut with a loud click.

“There we go” Evie sighed, turning to Doug and wrapping her arm around his “I’m starving, how about you?”

“Food sounds good” he chuckled, guiding Evie to the cafeteria.

Carlos watched from afar as Mal swung her feet just of the gazebo floor, her toes just grazing the cool lake water. He froze as she turned to look at him, her emerald green eyes softening and she invited him closer, turning back to the water as he did so and sat down beside her.

Mal laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, while she and Carlos hadn’t been friends before Auradon, she was glad that she had him by her side now.

“so…you broke up with Ben?” Carlos started, giving Mal a soft smile as she looked up at him. She slowly looked back down at the water as she thought of what to say.

“I…yeah” she sighed, letting her weight fully lean onto Carlos, who lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder. “I’m just…not ready for the relationship he wants…I know I hide my feelings and shit but…I really don’t know how he expected me to just, be good with all of this Auradon lady stuff within six months…I feel like a failure” Carlos let out a low hum, squeezing Mal's shoulder.

“well, you aren’t, you did your best, and your best was good enough, you just found out that that life…isn’t going to work out for you, it goes against your mental wiring, yes maybe you could adjust to it but would you be happy with it?” Mal pursed her lips, Carlos shook her a bit “well?”

“no” Mal muttered, picking at the loose thread on her pants “no I wouldn’t be happy like that…Ben…he said he wanted me…the real me, the isle me-wait…no he wouldn’t want her, she's rude as fuck” Mal smiled at the snort that erupted from Carlos, before it slipped off as she remembered something. Mal stopped Carlos as he was about to speak again “Hey…I did this for Evie but…I wanted to do the same for you” He looked at her confused “I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were on the isle” he looked off to the side for a moment before he realized what she meant.

“oh! Yeah, it's no biggie” he attempted to brush it off but Mal adamantly shook her head.

“No! it's not “no biggie!” I treated you, Evie, and sometimes Jay, horribly! Even after we became friends! You were and are deserving of kindness, and I’m sorry that I was so fucked up that I was the rottenest little brat to you” Carlos stared at her with wide eyes. “what?”

His shocked look melted into a comforting grin “Thank you Mal” he wrapped his arms around her, pulling into a tight hug that only lasted a moment “sorry, just remembered; you’re not really affectionate” he laughed, grinning wider as Mal giggled along.

“it’s-its fine when it comes from you three” Mal hummed, turning to look back at the lake.

“sooo back to the Ben break up talk?” Carlos tried, smirking as Mal blew a raspberry “come on, you need to talk it out with someone, or else you’re gonna explode keeping it all bottled up.”

“…I’m happy I broke up with him” Mal spilled, not looking at Carlos as his brows shot up “I thought about our future and I realized if I kept doing what I was doing, and we kept going with how we were…neither of us would have been happy…I need to learn to love myself before I can love him properly, because…if (y/n)s forced quote an’ unquote therapy sessions” Carlos laughed at that “taught me anything. It’s that…I rely on someone else's love to measure my self-worth”

Carlos hummed, squeezing Mal's shoulder again “that’s not a good thing”

“no!” Mal huffed, running her hands through her hair and pulling at the roots “it isn’t! I've been trying to earn my mother's love for 16 years, then I just hop to doing so much bullshit to make sure Ben will love me! I dyed my hair blonde, I dressed in those itchy dresses, I dropped my entire personality for all that! And-and it wasn’t good, I felt like I was slipping away Carlos” Mal sobbed, tears trailing down her cheeks as she finally broke “I don’t even remember what I’m supposed to act like without all that because I spent so long doing it I just-I forgot what being ME felt like” Carlos fully wrapped his arms around Mal and pulled her tight to his side. “I-I know it sounds like I’m being pathetic and having a fucking pity party but I’m just so fucking scared Carlos” Mal whimpered, throwing her arms around Carlos’ torso and pushing her cheek against his shoulder “on the isle my life was commanded by my mother and my identity was pleasing her, and here my life has been being Ben’s girlfriend and pleasing the people of Auradon so they think I’m not some villain whose just after Ben because he’s king…I-I do really like Ben Carlos”

Mal sniffed, pulling back one of her arms and wipe her nose “I do, it's just that…being with him hasn’t helped me move on from my mother bullshit and im-gah!” Mal let out a yell, pulling back from Carlos and burying her face in her hands “I’m having a fucking identity crisis because of my fucking mother! Why can’t she just leave me alone! Why can't all this dumb shit be left behind five months ago! Why do I still have to deal with it?!” Carlos let Mal rant, rubbing her back as she broke down.

“because life is unfair that way” Carlos sighed “Mal I know exactly what you're dealing with right now” Mal peeked out from her fingers, her eyes shining “I still have nightmares from living in my mother’s closet, getting trapped in the bear traps on the ground, or when she would burn me with her cigarette…even ones were she sends dogs at me to kill me…I still hear her voice in my head, telling me I’m worthless, that I’ll never be better than dog chow, my only use was being her servant” Carlos swallowed down the lump in his throat “but I know she's wrong, I’m not anything she says. I’m a tech genius, I've made several computers on the isle just from scraps, I've enhanced my 3D printer to be the best in Auradon, faster than any other and the quality is still top-notch, I've made a tiny little device that was able to make a hole in the barrier, I've gotten offers to work for Tony fucking Stark!” Mal gasped, reaching forward to grab Carlos' shoulders in excitement.

“holy shit what!? When? How? Why?!” Carlos smiled, prying off her grip.

“I knew you all were distracted by something else, especially you, so I didn’t want to make you stressed by my stuff either, it was two months ago. I didn’t take the offer because I want to finish school, but the offer still stands when I graduate in two years” Mal grinned, but it turned to a pout as Carlos gave her a look “Now back to the original topic, I’m not letting you deviate from it, you need to let it all out”

Mal stared at him for a moment before shrugging “I…feel like I already did…Auradon is stressful, my mother is the base of all my mental shit, and I’m not ready to be in a relationship with the dude I love because until I can love myself and learn not to rely on others value of me as my own value I can't be with him in a way that won't hurt him” Carlos slowly grinned “what?” “you said you love Ben~” he teased, laughing as Mal turned red and smacked him.

“I did not!!” she screeched, yelping as Carlos half tackled her and pulled her into an arm lock “Let me go you heathen!”

“you love Ben~ you love Ben~” Carlos sang, laughing as she tried to smack at his face “Come on, pixie! Let's get you back to the dorms, I think you need a nap”

“Don’t call me pixie!”

“How bout gremlin?”

“Carlos!!”

Chad carefully pulled the 3D printed copy of the king's crown from the printer and pressed a kiss to the emblem on the front. “Finally,~” He walked over to the mirror that was installed in Jay's standing dresser and carefully perched the crown on his head, smiling as his full cotillion outfit came to light.

He looked like a king~

He tilted the crown down a bit and laughed, posing in the mirror “oh what's that? Why no Audrey, I haven’t chosen my queen yet~” He purred to the fake Audrey in his mind. He turned and started to walk away before spinning back around to pose again “why no Audrey-”

Suddenly his phone rang, and he turned, raising his brow as he walked over to his phone “who could be calling me?”

Caller ID - Audrey <3

Chad let out a high-pitched scream of excitement, dropping his phone to the floor as he gripped his head “ahhAH! Audrey!!!”

“chad!” Carlos groaned, glaring as the other dived to the floor for his phone, and shushed him “Chad! This is my room chad!”

Chad shushed him again, making Carlos roll his eyes. Chad hit the answer button on his phone “Audrey?”

“Hey Chad um, I’m kind of stuck in Sherwood forest, my tire went flat. Could, could you come help me?”

“yeah of course!” Chad covered the mic and turned back to Carlos “she got a flat tire in Sherwood forest and she wants me to come fix it~” Carlos squinted a bit and looked at Chad with an odd look.

“that’s six hours away”

Chad looked at him as if what he said wasn’t a long road trip. “Really? Only six?” he turned back to his phone and put it back to his ear “I’m gonna be there faster than I thought”

“Thanks Chad, I was going to come to cotilli-“ he pulled the phone away and pressed a kiss to the screen, hanging up on Audrey and starting to walk out the door when Carlos stopped him.

“Ah-My printer my crown” Carlos took the crown off Chad's head, who chuckled and gestured back from the printer to the crown before shrugging it off.

“I’m coming Audrey!” he ran down the halls towards his car, leaving a bewildered Carlos in his dorm.

“wow,” Carlos snorted, shaking his head and walking into the room, tossing the crown on Jay's bed. Carlos flopped down on his bed, Dude hopping up next to him moments later “these last two days have been crazy huh?”

“You can say that again” Dude snorted, halfway crawling on Carlos' chest and laying his head down “Nap time?”

“Nap time” Carlos chuckled, pulling his pillow over his face to block out the afternoon sun and sighed.

-end of part 14-

yep, part 14, we’re almost to Cotillion guys! also yep, Doug does not accuse Evie of cheating on him even though he had no reason to do so in the movie and he shows concern over Evie and her friends safety when she tells him about the isle~ what?? no~ this isn't a dig at Doug's awful D2 writing!! how could you accuse me of such a thing~! (Doug had alot of potential but like Mal it got ruined in the second movie and he was pushed as a full on background character in the third) also MORE CARLOS CONTENT~ yes he is smart boi and deserves that recognition and yes, the avengers exist in this universe. hopefully that Mal talk didnt sound like a pity party.

anyway PERMTAGLLIST

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @rintheemolion

@thecaptainsgingersnap @descendantsobsessed

@verboetoperee @imtryingthisout

taglist

@thesailbells @beccad10x

#disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook x reader #Descendents #descendants #harry hook descendants #harry hook imagine #anti mal #just in case #anti doug #just in case 2 #rewrite #part of your world #shuffle playlist

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years ago

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The Mandalorian Chapter 15 reactions; *nobby nobbs voice* ‘s all gone a bit percychological, sir

- so from both chapter 6 and now this: rick famuyiwa is incredible at portraying prolonged discomfort and tension (and also at getting din’s endless love for that baby across through the stress of being separated from him. this is the very first episode with no baby in it at all, isn’t it? wow that’s a heartbreaking milestone to reach im crying)

I liked this episode SO MUCH but I had to pause it pretty often and take a breather because it all made me so viscerally uncomfortable on din’s behalf -- not just the armour and having to take the helmet off and be seen for the (almost, ilu IG-11) first time in decades, people keep touching him in this episode when he clearly doesn’t want them to but can’t stop it and it makes me want to claw my own skin off in sympathy, it’s so awful. that’s really neat film making to manage to keep that tension steady almost all the way through!!!

honestly this episode felt a little bit like psychological horror, with the cheering storm troopers and din in the wrong armour and clearly not digging it and there’s the palpable absence of baby and that ever present dread of being Perceived when you’re not ready for it; everything’s turned upside down from how it should be. and it’s playing with that discomfort both in the main character and in us, the audience, in having the familiar be made unfamiliar and also introducing these questions that shake up everything (that feeling you get of ‘but... if it’s not the helmet, and not the armour, but there’s his face, but we’ve only seen that face once before so it’s still basically new to us, is this... is this still him. is this still Dad’ (oooh I wonder if we’re... sort of getting some of the ??? the baby would be feeling about it too?) we’ve all imprinted on that t-shaped visor like little baby birds, and this was a very clever episode to break us out of that and start to really get used to the thought of him having several faces that are real simultaneously, in a way, and not just a voice. it’s all very smart and interesting and I’m sure I’ll have a lot of incoherent thoughts about this in the weeks to come lol)

- the actual reason din can’t take off the helmet is that if people were able to see his wide confused puppy eyes they would no longer find it in themselves to send him on long arduous side missions and would help him immediately just so he’d feel better, and that would rob us of like 80% of the content for this show

mayfeld in this episode: clearly a casualty of this. he literally sees one glimpse of the vulnerability there and then within five seconds goes on to materialize a few redeeming character traits after being a complete jackass for an episode and a half. (I mean. he was 100% still an imperial so I’m a bit ‘hm.’ about how easily especially cara let him off the hook, but with the way it was set up I guess it would have been quite shitty of them to just throw him back in prison so I mean I GUESS. I would be endlessly grateful someone got my awkward bff out of there alive and well too I suppose)

- I actually think din’s sense/integrity of self has gotten so much stronger and more resilient (though probably still quite fragile pls handle with care precious cargo within); if this had happened in the first season I think it might honestly just have killed him (and if it weren’t for IG-11 it probably would have lol)

- can you beLIEVE din is so bad at lying that they literally should plan for contingencies over it fjkasdlhfskajdhfsdj

- very grateful for the scene with the spear throw that’s basically there to reassure us ‘uh-huh, he absolutely knows how to use it, don’t worry about that part at least’

I want to make a whole post about that fight scene, though, it’s just so GOOD! there’s so much storytelling and characterization in it! even out of the armour din has some real hand to hand MOVES!! he clearly came out of that aching all over, he can barely get back in his seat!!!

- so what I’m mainly taking away from this is that din absolutely cuts his own hair and you know what? he does a good job considering the conditions he has to work under, I love him

I still find it so goddamn darling that he meticulously maintains that little mustache/stubble combo under there even when there’s every reason to believe no one will ever see it

I suppose we can also gather that he did not ask cobb about whatever insane feat of magic he’s come up with to avoid helmet hair, but I don’t care looking a bit frazzled and tousled is exactly right for him (he’s so put together when he’s in the armour and a MESS when he’s out of it and I l o v e it)

- boba fett is honestly so fucking hot in this I don’t know what to do with myself haha. he’s so CALM and CALCULATED and COLLECTED in his newly painted armour and he’s GOT THIS and he made that ‘I’ve got one of those faces. one of jango’s many, many, many faces’ joke and he’s so thicc now, he looks like he could easily lift me over his head with one hand and he’s just quietly steady and undramatically supportive and sdalfhsdjhfsa

- ...din does know who the clone troopers were, right. I mean of course he does. he has to. but does he though. I’m sure he does and just wasn’t thinking.

- no matter how stressful it was I’m still really grateful that in the end taking the helmet off was something din got to do himself -- it’s under some duress, but it’s still his choice and for the sake of the baby, and almost in two more manageable steps between putting on the storm trooper gear for a different helmet before taking it off altogether. it’s not something done to him by gideon, for example, that would be. so much yuckier and worse. he still has that control and agency intact, even if it’s been tested really hard, and now gideon doing that doesn’t hold the exact same nightmarish power anymore because there’s already a little space opened in din’s mind for different things it can mean, if you see what I mean. I’m not sure I see what I mean actually I just have a lot of feelings haha. so I guess thank you mayfeld for being decent about it and helping him towards that realization that he can still be himself outside these really really inflexible structures he’s set up around himself for like. stability and keeping himself upright for a really long time, and that even someone halfway decent won’t disrespect the boundaries he still has about it at any given moment. man there’s a lot in this episode isn’t there

- the sigh din gave when he saw even more pirates coming and knew he had to get back up... never has a single moment in cinema better captured how I feel about being alive. most relatable man in the world din djarin

- it was really cruel of them to make me listen to din’s dead bleak voice say ‘the child is gone’ again, it wrecks my heart every goddamn time

- again... I wish carano wasn’t Like That in real life because the cara & fennec scenes should have been everything I could ever dream. ah well fennec was still wonderful and if I just allow myself to think in-universe for a few seconds it was really touching that din would entrust cara with his entire armour, that’s some prime BrOTP energy right there

I love that we got two female characters who were just allies and working together, no competition or nothin’. listen the bar is low but it’s nice to see something actually leap gracefully over it as well lol

- this was one of those with some pretty big open plot holes (why, exactly, would a scan of a completely unknown face be helpful to get into this classified system lol), but a) I don’t care, the emotional storyline was so sound it doesn’t really matter and b) eh handwave handwave let’s say mayfeld programmed that little stick with the good shit and overrode the code saying there needed to be an identity match within the system, it’s all fine

- I know I joke a lot about this but din really is one of the most relatable characters I’ve ever had. just watching him struggle with eye contact and going pretty much nonverbal under enough stress is like. wow a bit close to home there could we, perhaps, nOT?? (honestly though these are trauma/anxiety things I really don’t see portrayed a lot, especially in protagonists, it’s so odd but healing to see it in a character I love and who’s EXTREMELY competent in many other settings)

- din repeating gideon’s speech back to him word for word (except for the crucial detail that he calls grogu ‘him’ instead of ‘it’ 😭😭😭) and saying nothing else is truly Everything. I’ve said some stuff about din’s deliberate and thoughtful relationship to language in the past and this is such an amazing example of it; he’s remembered that pitch perfect all this time, he’s kept it around in his head and mulled it over and then redeployed it to change the meaning of it completely from dehumanization to love. can you. can you even imagine. and it’s yet another example of his hilarious wonderful petty streak and I can never get enough of it fasjhdfkjalhs

- din always noticing the children first and foremost Y_______Y (the kids running by is the only thing you see him sort of acknowledge when he’s walking into the covert in season 1 too)

- please... please I just need him to be able to hold that baby against his chest all safe and sound and okay again I can’t it’s........ hh

NO SEASON END CLIFF HANGER ON THIS I AM B E G G I N G YOU

- I would be having some thoughts about how much space there actually is on slave 1 and what that might mean (do not kill boba again please don’t kill him again), but honestly there’s only ‘GET BABY’ hours in here now, I can’t speculate about anything

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta #this is an episode in the 'wow that was awesome but I need to go lie down in a quiet room for a while afterwards' tradition lol

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castiel-barnes · 4 years ago

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Saving you.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader.

Summary: Poe saves you after being severely tortured by the first order.

Warnings: Angst. Blood. Medical inaccuracies probably. Leia being a surrogate mother. Wedge being surrogate father. Fluff.

Wordcount: 1.7k

A/N: I know I wrote a poe for just the other day but I needed to try do angst with flyboy.

Tag: @phoenixhalliwell

Poe had always been that level headed, ace pilot that everyone knew him to be. But this was a side no one else had ever seen. Not even General Organa. He was running off of no sleep and caffeine and that was it. Bags had formed under his eyes, his usually somewhat neat curls were all over the place.

You had been captured and tortured by the First Order. After your X-Wing had crashed troopers had dragged you away, and took you on board of Kylo Rens Star destroyer. It had gotten to the point during being tortured that you started to dissociate from the reality that was happening around you.

"What are they doing?" Hux asked a lieutenant that was in your cell with him,

"It seems they are distancing themselves from reality sir, to cope with the pain." The lieutenant responded as they look down at you, and your weakened state as you stared into the distance.

Back on the resistance base, Leia physically forced Poe to go to bed. Making sure that either Rey or Finn were there to make sure he actually slept. He had to be honest, he did feel better physically after getting some well needed rest. After getting some sleep, he woke up and freshend himself up. That was until Finn came running in the room.

"POE! LEIA NEEDS US!!" Finn stated heaving the words out. Poe, BB-8 and Finn running or in BB-8s case rolling at full force down corridors leading towards the control room. There Leia stood over a table of information. Sensing the 2 boys and the droid enter the room, she turned and looked Poe dead in they eye.

"Poe... we found them." She simply stated. A little bit of pressure had lifted off of Poe's shoulders for a moment, knowing that he would be able to get to you. Everything around base started getting busy, Poe, Finn, Rey and BB-8 got the falcon ready and we're on their way to the ship.

You were still in your cell on the floor. The extent of your injuries worse than anyone on base has had for a long while. You were certain that your leg was broken from the crash, only to be made worse by Hux and his men. They hadn't given you anything to eat or drink, so your hydration levels were extremely low. Cuts and bruises had formed all over your body. You were finding it difficult to move anything, and the extent of some of your injuries would probably require some PT and a slow recovery.

Inside the Millenium Falcon, Poe sat there nervously his leg bouncing up and down. Rey walked over to him and kneeled in front of him.

"We're gonna find them Poe." Rey stated quietly,

"I know. It's just.... what state they'll be in." He replied even quieter. She left him to simmer with his thoughts until it was time to board the destroyer. The destroyer came into view after dropping out of hyperspace, and Rey could sense your presence but it was very weak. After spending a few minutes, the three of them along with BB-8 were aboard the ship and Rey used the force on some troopers to find you.

Coming to a stop outside your cell, BB-8 got the door open for the others. Poe was first in, and the sight shattered his heart into a million little pieces.

"Y/N? Honey, it's Poe. We're taking you home." Poe stated quietly. He could see your shallow breathes, but there was no recognition of the fact that he was there and not to mention you were almost cold to the touch. Picking you up as gently as he could, he heard you groan and your eyebrows pinch a little.

"Poe?" Your voice cracked as you felt your body being lifted,

"Yeah baby, I'm here I'm saving you baby. We're going home." Poe responded. The five of you moved through the ship, Finn and BB-8 in front, Poe with you in and out of consciousness in the middle and Rey at the back. It wasn't long until you were all in the hanger, blaster fire all over the place. But you all managed to get away on the Falcon.

Poe laid you gently on the bed, and sat next you holding your hand. Rey and Finn left the two of you alone, knowing that Poe would just want to be with you and not talk. As he sat next to you, he felt your hand squeeze his ever so slightly but no words came out. You were too tired.

"I know baby, we're two minutes away from base." He said quietly to you, his free hand stroking your hair back gently. Surely enough two minutes later, the falcon dropped out of hyperspace right above the current planet the base was on.

Medics rushed onto the falcon, helping transfer you onto a floating medical bed. Poe ran behind them on the way to medical, but soon stopped him when they went to get ready to be treated. Poe started sobbing, as he slid down the wall not realising that Leia had just arrived. She got Poe to stand up and then drew him in for a hug and let him cry. Leia knew that you two were in love, and it made her heart break to know that Poe almost lost you in the way he lost his mother, but also then having to hear you have been tortured by the First Order.

Eventually, Poe and Leia were allowed to see you. You looked better, the miracle of bacta doing its job. And when Poe touched your hand it was far warmer than it had been previously. It took you a long while to wake up, the bacta working as best it could. The medics checked on you frequently, and Poe stayed next to you for almost the entire time.

You opened your eyes, the bright light of medical causing then to shut again. Slowly your eyes adjusted to the light and you were able to see what was going on around you. Looking to the left of you, you saw Poe dozing at an odd angle in the chair next to you.

"Poe..." you croaked barely anything coming out, "Poe." You managed to say a bit louder. He sat up with a start, almost falling off of the chair. His eyes were wide but tired, as he looked at you tears welled in his but a smile was across his face.

"Hi honey, how are you feeling?" Poe asked quietly stroking your hair back,

"Like absolute shit. You look tired." You replied bringing one hand up to his face.

"It's cause I am baby, you gave me a scare." Poe stated leaning into your hand and locking eyes,

"Your gonna need physical therapy for that leg you know." He continued kissing the palm of your hand.

"I'm sorry I scared you flyboy. And I know, I gathered that when I was.... when I was. Yeah I gathered." You stuttered out, everything suddenly coming back to you at once. You looked at Poe, tears now falling down your face.

"K-kriff I'm.... im so sorry Poe. I almost left you and... and I was so scared, all I could think about was you." You continued breathing starting to get more panicky.

"No, no baby. Hey listen Y/N it's fine, there is nothing to be sorry about. Baby just breathe, please just breathe for me." Poe stated instantly taking your hand in his and calming you down. Eventually you started breathing properly again and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment.

"I'm sorry Poe." You whispered,

"It's okay baby, I understand. You've had a bad few weeks. But I'm not going anywhere and neither are you, because you're safe." Poe responded kissing you gently.

***********************************

It had just been over a month now that Poe had rescued you. Medical had cleared you to go to your own quarters, but you had to go back either every day or every other day for physical therapy. Some days were better than others.

If Poe was away though, you'd spin his mother's ring around your finger. Which he had given to you as a sign of unity, not long after you were discharged.

Today though, you had a rest from therapy and you decided you'd go sit outside and watch Black Squadron practice flight maneuvers. Sensing a presence next to you, you turned and saw that it was Wedge. Wedge Antilles was like a father to you, he was one of the first faces you saw when you joined the Resistance, and he was the one that taught you everything that you knew.

Standing up, you smiled and hugged him. He sat down next to you and looked at the X-Wings flying past.

"Hey Wedge." You said smiling at the older gentleman,

"Hey kid, how's the leg?" He asked smiling back at you.

"It has its moments. It gets bad some days and then others it's like I didn't injure it. But therapy is helping, I just wanna get back out there." You replied looking up as Poe soared past,

"Yeah I know the feeling. I didn't tell you about the time I basically had the same accident as you did I?" He stated tracking your eyes to your fiancé.

"No sir." You shook your head, now focusing on Wedge,

"Not long after the fall of the Empire and the destruction of the second Death star, I went out of my way to find if there was any remnants of the Empire left behind. One day, my ship got shot by a Tie and I crashed into one of the few remaining star destroyers. Injured myself of course, spent a little while moving around the ship before being caught and tortured for answers. This was above the planet Akiva, and they took me to the imperial Palace which was a magnificent building. After that I don't really remember much, but that's where I met Snap and his mum. I done therapy for a injury similar to yours." He explained, his eyes looking into the distance as he remembered.

"I didn't know that you met Snap that long ago." You replied,

"Yeah, he had a droid modified from the clone wars called MR BONES. But the thing is, therapy will get better Y/N." He stated smiling a sense of understanding there.

"Thank you Wedge." You smiled back giving him a hug again. The two of you sat there for a while, until you both agreed that getting food from the mess sounded good. You used your cane to help you around, sometimes placing most of your weight on it.

The good thing was that you had someone who understood how you felt, someone who loved you dearly and someone that could bring you or your fiancé comfort anytime.

#star wars #writing #poe dameron #oscar isaac

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storysofmyown · 4 years ago

Text

Obey me! Scarred, Chapt. 6

Plot: It’s time for the next step in Diavolo’s plan to unify the realms. But, in order to work, the demons would be subjected to confront their worst fears, and in some cases, who they are.

Trigger warning: Manipulation, Panic attack...I’m not sure if it qualifies as such, implied suicidal thoughts.

Word count: 2980

“Yes Lucifer, Beel said he would be joining me later.” Levi was waiting in a crowded room for a game he wanted to buy. It was a ridiculously crowded, Levi would have been waiting since last night, but Lucifer had forbidden him, and the only reason he had been able to even go and get a copy was because Beel offered to accompany him after his practice ended. Still, Lucifer was not all that happy with that idea and would not stop calling or texting him.

“I still think this is a bad idea. Maybe I should go with you.” The man’s voice sounded worried trough the phone, Levi rolled his eyes.

“Lucifer! I already told you I’m fine. I’m kind of an expert hiding from the public. There is no need for you to cut your meeting with Lord Diavolo short.” The older demon sighed from the other side of the line. “Besides, I’ve been waiting for this game for like, a year. I’m not going to let it sell out without me getting a copy.”

“Fine, fine! But if Beelzebulb is not there in two hours, I want you to get home. I do not care if you were able to get a copy of the game, understood?” Levi nodded, forgetting he was speaking through a phone and that Lucifer could not see him.

“Yes, gotta go now. They are selling merch!! And I already lost my opportunity to get the ultra-rare items, I won’t let that same fate fall upon me with the rare items.” Before his brother had an opportunity to answer Leviathan hanged up, walking around the few tables they had placed around. He held into his number tightly, making sure not to lose it, if he lost it, then he wouldn’t have proof that he had been waiting for the game and someone else would take his place.

There were hundreds of demons in the room, thankfully it was a rather large room, there was enough space for him to walk around freely and not feel that overwhelmed by the amount of people around him. He was looking at some rare figurines, trying to see if he found one which he didn’t own yet. As the minutes flew by, Levi got another call. He was tempted to ignore it but noticed it said Beels name and not Lucifers. Before answering he glanced at the hour, it was half an hour past from the time Beel had said he would show up.

“Beel?”

“Levi, I’m on my way. The coach made us stay a bit longer.” Beels voice sounded agitated, like the demon was running. And judging by the ruffling he heard in the background, that was exactly what his brother was doing.

“LOL, it’s fine. There still a lot of numbers to be called before us. So, no need to get here fast.” Beel was going to say something but another call interrupted him. This time it was Lucifer. “Gotta go, Lucifer is calling… again. I promise I will get you something to eat once you get here.” Beel didn’t respond, and that was fine since Levi needed to take the other call.

“Do you have the game?”, Levi groaned. “I’ll take that as a no. Is Beel with you?”

“No, the coach made the team stay longer. But he on his way is.” Levi heard Lucifer sigh at the other side of the line. Even he knew Lucifer was massaging his temples and Levi couldn’t even see him right now.

“Once he gets there, you tell him to call me, okay?” Leviathan rolled his eyes for the hundred time today. He was getting exasperated at this and just wanted his damn video game so he could stay in his room and not come out until, like, two months, by that time he would have completed the game in its entirety.

“Yes, I’ll tell him about it.” After a few more exchanges and Lucifer making Levi promise again to be back in an hour or so if he didn’t get the game, Levi was finally able to look around in peace for a couple of minutes.

After buying another piece of merch, Levi turned around, and noticed something odd. The people in the room had been making the same five moments they had been making for a while now. Going forward and then backwards, the room had fallen into silence, which was then replaced with people saying the same things over and over again, the voices incredibly laud and merging until all Leviathan could make out of the incredible loud noise was his own name. The movements of their hands and facial expressions gave the sensation of them being robots or something. He realized that no number had been called in for a while now.

“Are they…stuck on a loop?” Levis anxiety began raising, burning in his chest and he felt himself starting to shake lightly.

“Took you long enough to realize it.” Leviathan snapped out of his anxiety for a second, head moving at the direction of the voice, which belonged to his father.

“Dad?” Levi realized how he had called God, and immediately felt regret at such a level it made him wince.

“I would appreciate it if you would refrain from referring to me as such.” Leviathan starred at his father trough his bangs. “I dread the idea of being related to any of you. Especially,” God made a point to stop in his tracks and stare directly at Leviathan, glancing up and down at him. What Levi could describe as a disgusted look appeared on Gods face as their eyes meet once again, “someone like you.”

That sent goosebumps throughout Levis body, shaking him to his core. The bag in his hands becoming unbearable to hold on, but he refused to let it fall. They were grounding him somehow. He was scared but that comment made him mad as well. Taking a step forward and making sure his stance was firm, Levi glared to the man, trying to find the courage to respond to his father.

“H-Hey! Wha-what is that supposed to mean?!” Levi gritted his teeth at the man, whose eyes were focused on the tables and demons that surrounded him. He was avoiding Levis gaze, almost mocking him. It was a way of saying that Levi was not even worth to look at.

“It means,” God glared at Levi, his eyes full of a hatred that Levi had only seen once before. In the eyes of the same man that stood right in front of him. The people still stuck in an infinite loop around them, chanting Leviathans name like some sort of spell, “that I would rather not be associated with the likes of you.”

“The likes of me? You mean demons?” Levi asked, still trying to face and maintain his ground around his father, it was hard though. Secretly, Leviathan only hoped that Beel would burst in the room and support him. Though, given the state of the demons in the room, he wondered if perhaps Beel was also stuck on a loop somewhere on his way there. “if you despise demons so much, why even bother with this trip? Why even consider the idea of having our realms united?”

“My, for someone that spend so much time in literary works and mindless tv shows, one would expect you to read between the lines.” God took a deep sigh, one of his hands placed in the bridge of his nose. “I don’t mean demons Leviathan. In fact, I have found myself quite enjoying the distinct…ehr culture that Lord Diavolo has going around. No, when I say, ‘the likes of you’, I mean cowards.”

Levi sucked in a breath, he felt heavy and was losing sense of the world around him. Before he could properly hear the last words, people starting chanting his name even lauder, now, Leviathan wasn’t sure if it was God causing it or if it was his own mind blocking and numbing away the world. His vision was blurry, and his heart was pounding. He felt the bag in his hand heavier than before and for a moment he completely forgot where he was, just wishing he could be back in his room under some blankets. Leviathan looked up, trying to locate God but for some reason the man was no longer in front of him.

“Oh, pardon me. Quite a shock to you being confronted by reality?” Gods voice came from nowhere, yet everywhere. It was an echo in his mind, yet he could feel the vibrations of it on the floor.

“You can’t talk to me like that! I…im- uhg”, Leviathan groaned shifting his position, looking everywhere trying to find where God was, “I’m one of the highest-ranking demons here. Yo-you shouldn’t talk to me like that. I am the third most powerful demon from my family, and we are all high-ranking demons.” Levi gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. He was sweating and this wave of overwhelming emotion was killing him.

“I shouldn’t? Oh please, you talk like you have any authority boy. We both know that this status you uphold was misplaced upon you. Please, the third most powerful in your family?” God scoffed, before laughing hysterically, exaggerating and making every second fill with even more tension. “Anyone that can see at all knowns that title is wrongly placed, just look at you.” Levi felt cold wind pass around him, making every hair in his body stand up. “It’s curious. Satan, your nephew, is far younger than you, yet…he is only one position behind you. How does that make you feel?” God cackled as the wind around Levi become colder, the demon wanted to run from the place, but he was frozen, hugging himself to try and provide some sort of grounding feeling, bags forgotten on the floor. Hoping he could open his eyes, and everything would have disappeared.

“Th-that’s not t-true! I am the general of…of the navy.” Levi spoke, but his voice was less fierce. The fear was evident on the demon’s voice. His mind was a mess. For years he has struggled with the way he is, to the point of trying to change several times, but in the end he wound up disappointed. Disappointed in how everyone saw him as the weakling of the family, disappointed in himself for not being good and disappointed and enraged that he was the way he was, and that no matter how much he tried, he would always go back to his old ways.

“What low standards must this place have for their soldiers and whatnot.” God was still nowhere to be seen, Levi was shaking, he could not tell if it was from the cold or for the fear he felt in that moment. “It is outstanding the fact that you feel so devoid of valor or care in your family that you need to seek comfort in such things.” For a split-second God appeared beside a table, taking one of the many items in his hand and turning it to dust. Before Levi lost track of him again. “The again, if I was your family, I would also ignore you.” God laughed again. This time, Levi could feel the grin in the man’s face.

“I know you are trying to get me all worked up. But that won’t work. You can’t…hurt me with stuff I already know.” Levi was aware of how bad that sounded but it was true. All those thoughts and sentiments, those insecurity’s and degrading thoughts were already on his mind, thinking about them constantly. But he lied, those thoughts hurt, even if he did constantly think about them.

For a moment there was silence in the room. The slow movements of the demons around had stopped completely, the sense of dread Levi was feeling overtook any logical thought his mind could have. He was frenetically trying to find where God was, being prevented by the people around, who did not let him move around the room freely anymore. Levi didn’t know if it was just his eyes, but the room was getting darker. Then, the demons started moving rapidly, this time it wasn’t the same movements as before, these ones were frantic and there was no rhythm to what they were doing. The loop they had been stuck on burst and the had lost control completely.

The loud noise of demons talking, and walking was becoming too much for Levi, he closed his eyes and put his hand on his ears. Demon form flickering, trying to jump out but he was also trying to stay in control of what was happening. His breathing was accelerated and even the sound of his own heartbeat was annoying him. He could feel the weight of his horns and his tail when they appeared, and the constant shift in the weight on his head was starting to give him a headache, his tail, when it appeared, moved like crazy making him lose his footing and trip various times.

“Then what about the fact that none of your brothers trust you?” Gods voice was so loud it snapped Levi out of all his thoughts, he turned around to see the face of his father barely a few inches away, making him jump and fall on the floor. “I mean, Lucifer wouldn’t stop calling to “check up on you”, and none of them were really happy with the idea of you coming here alone, the only reason why you were even allowed to come here was because they appointed you a babysitter. And it seems like the babysitter forgot about your existence as well.”

God laughed dryly, bending to Levis level. Levi had fallen and was looking up at his father, his vision blurry and shaking so much his hands could barely even maintain the weight he put on them. His tears were now more visible than ever, and his breathing had never been more accelerated, didn’t matter how much air he inhaled, it still felt like he was suffocating. Like an invisible hand was choking his. For a moment, Levi glanced at the side and felt himself lose the little balance he had regained, but God put a finger on his forehead. Forcing Leviathan to look at his father, even though he felt like he could pass out at any moment. Leviathan didn’t knew when, but the room was entirely black except for a light that had him and God illuminated, he was feeling weak and at some point he even almost threw up.

“You are so weak; your family doesn’t even trust you to get out of the house alone. What does that say about you, Leviathan the Third born, admiral of hell’s navy?” Leviathans eyelids felt heavy and his throat was sore, he tried to push his father away, but he was in a state of shock. He felt exposed, demon form fully displayed. “Well I should get going. But you, Leviathan, you buy that game and try to replace your value and the love you don’t deserve and are not getting with entertainment.” God finally stopped holding Levis head up with his finger, and the moment that he did, Leviathan felt himself fall down an endless hole of all the insecurities he had ever felt.

The only thing that kept him from keeping spiraling down was the pain he felt caused by God stepping in the demons tail. Leviathan closed his eyes and covered his face his hands, trying to breath less hastily, the entire room was on silence, until he heard the echoing booming voice of the door, which then merged into every other sound at the convention. The steps, the voices, the movements, the noise of people paying and the rustling of bags, the noise of plastic and the smell, everything was overwhelming to him. But there was a noise that muted all others. His phone was ringing.

“Leviathan, you have half an hour more. If you do not-” He had finally managed to pick the phone up, knowing damn well who it was Levi tuned out the voice, before hanging up and finally standing up. Walking lazily and stumbling around until he existed the store he was on. The burst of light made everything worse. He was looking up, still not having entirely processed what had happen, he felt the vibrations of the phone ringing from his pocket and the way the cold wind hit his body, that reminded him of what had happened a few minutes ago. Leviathan hugged himself and focused on his breathing. Who knows how much time he spent like that, all he can tell is that after calming down a little, he heard a voice call him, and upon opening his eyes, he noticed it was Beel, centimeters away from his face, making Leviathan screech and jump, almost falling but his brother prevented the fall.

“Are you okay?” Asked Beel, in a worried tone, looking at his brothers to make sure he wasn’t wounded or anything. Levi nodded, putting his hands on his pockets. A few seconds passed and Beel noticed the lack of bags from someone whos entire plan was to buy something. “What happen to the game?” Beel asked, thinking that might at least break the silence that settled in.

“It…was sold out.” Was all Levi said, and started walking towards their home. Beel didn’t want to comment anything, but seeing his brothers in demon form like that, was troubling his mind. Had he been late again? Had his absence caused Levi to go through something? Beel didn’t knew, just like he didn’t know that the moment Levi entered his own room that night, he broke down like never before, feeling so small and scared, he even, for a moment thought, he shouldn’t exist.

So, this was late... on my defense, i do have an excuse- i mean an explanation. I was editing this yesterday, and stopped for a sec to see i got a notification and bam, it was the lessons. Naturally, i stopped everything i was doing and wolfed em down. So yeah, that is the reason why i didn't post this on Monday, I apologize. Next chapter will be up Friday night, that is a promise.

Anyway, i hoped y’all enjoyed this chapter. I was trying to play with Gods powers a little and also playing with his personality, in this one he is much more direct than in others. Reason being that i he feels like Levi is way easier to manipulate, just some harsh truths and you got a broken demon in your hands. But yeah, thank y’all for reading this, and i promise next chapter will be up on time.

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

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hypnoticwinter · 4 years ago

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole part 22

“You come…here again?”

“I know we said we wouldn’t,” the Sergeant says slowly, putting great care into his enunciation, “but it’s important.”

“Im…por…tant?”

“Yes. We have –“

“This…many more,” the copepod says, waggling three massive fingers at him. The Sergeant is silent for a moment.

“I don’t understand,” he says finally.

“You kill…this many…more,” the copepod grunts. I can hear it breathing, vast wheezing noises like the space in between notes on a bagpipe. “This many more…since you said…you would leave.”

The Sergeant sighs. “They attacked us outside of the barrows. The ones they attacked had no choice but to defend themselves.”

“This…the…end, four-arms?”

I frown, glance over at Elena. “Four-arms?” I mutter. She leans in closer to me.

“Their word for us. They haven’t got any legs so they don’t really grasp the distinction between a leg and an arm.”

I nod, staring down at the screen on my camera. The copepod looks far too glossy but with the gloves on the suit I don’t really have the dexterity to fiddle with it and I don’t want to take them off presently, so it’ll just have to be glossy. I look over at the two copepods that had come in earlier, still lurking behind the Big Guy like statues, clinging to the wall in positions that look as though they could push off and dart at us with absolutely minimal effort.

The rest of the team seems very relaxed, though; nobody, not even Crookshank, has their rifles up to cover the copepods. “Do y’all come down here often?” I ask.

Elena shakes her head. “I’ve only been down here once before, and that was about a year ago.” Her eyes flick over to Peter. “Investigating a missing person.”

I think of several possible responses to that but bite them all back. None of them would be helpful, and at any rate my impulse to defend Peter has withered a little over the last few days. Probably just the hormones talking. Maybe if I didn’t get such a big damn case of the warm fuzzies whenever I so much as look at Elena –

“The end of what?” the Sergeant asks. The copepod gestures, a vague, open-handed, sweeping motion. It’s a terrifically human gesture and for a moment I stare, wondering, then its segmented mouthparts judder to life again and that horrible, inhuman voice issues forth from them again and some poor pattern-recognizing part of my brain gets whiplash from the disjointedness of it.

“How we…end. Many…spawnings since we…meet, four-arms, and now…there is not…enough…to eat. If we…leave…to hunt, you…kill us.”

The Sergeant starts to say something, but the copepod slams a fist into the ground. Next to me I feel Elena flinch, and on the far wall of the chamber one of the other copepods cocks its head.

“We are hungry,” it tells the Sergeant, and something about the way it says those three simple words strikes me like a lightning bolt, passing all the way through my stomach and out my tailbone. My hands are shaking lightly and part of me wants to panic, wants to be out of here right now, but I close my eyes and swallow hard and force myself to be calm.

The Sergeant, to his credit, doesn’t even blink. “We’re here to talk about that.”

The copepod is silent. It reaches up with its hand and rubs at its face lightly, in a motion that reminds me of a fly cleaning its compound eyes. “Don’t…believe you,” it wheezes eventually.

“We are. We’re planning to start bringing food down for – for your people. But we need something in return.”

I glance over at the crystal again. It’s a good thing we brought Joker; I don’t know how we would have gotten it out of here if he weren’t here to carry it.

The copepod rolls its head back and makes a strange, scratchy, rhythmic noise, that I recognize after a moment as laughter.

“You make…us starve, then…come with…solution…to problem…you made? And…you want…trade…for it?”

I hear the Sergeant sigh, watch him look up at the ceiling. I’m impressed at how well he’s doing so far, especially considering (unless I have egregiously misread him) that he’s a soldier, not a diplomat. But now the copepod has handed him a real zinger.

“We never meant to hurt you,” he says. The copepod shifts lightly, the spongy floor creaking under its ponderous bulk. “There has been a long and bloody history between us and I wish it weren’t that way. I wish that things had been different, so many years ago when the first one of us had met the first one of you. I wish we had known to leave you alone and not interfere with your way of life. But the past can’t be changed, all we can do is try to right what wrongs we can.”

“What…you want?”

The Sergeant points to the crystal. “That,” he says. The copepod looks over at it and then reaches out and drags it, one handed, using what seems to be practically no effort, out from behind the pile.

“Not…for trade.”

“Not even for regular supplies of food?”

“Not…for anything.”

“Nothing at all?”

The copepod stops and looks at us. Its eyes seem to fix on something.

“Give me…that,” it says, pointing, and we all turn and stare at Crookshank, who the Sergeant had given his rifle to and who is now carrying both of them, somewhat awkwardly, beneath his armpits. He looks perturbed for a moment before he realizes and unlimbers one of them and sets the stock of it into the floor. I can see the muscles in the great knotty bulge of the Sergeant’s jaw working before he turns back around.

“Absolutely not,” he says.

“Too…bad.”

The Sergeant very clearly doesn’t know what to say, and then after a moment throws in the towel. “Alright,” he says. “Give me a minute, I have to ask.”

Then he turns around and takes a couple of respectful steps away before reaching down to his radio and calling Makado.

“They want what?” she groans, after he’s told her the news. The rest of us, listening in over the squad link, cast glances at each other but remain silent.

“One of the slug rifles,” he repeats. “I told him that we’d bring them regular shipments of food instead but he didn’t go for it.”

I hear Makado curse under her breath.

“You told them we’d bring them food? Goddam it,” she mutters. “You didn’t have any authority to –“

“Veret,” the Sergeant snaps, his voice barely edging on civil. “We don’t have time for this –“

“You expect me,” she hisses, her voice mingling with the static, “to give you the go-ahead to give them a fucking slug rifle? Why don’t we also turn off the sonic traps and leave the seal unlocked on the way out?”

“What do you want me to do, then?”

The copepod is watching this one-sided conversation with interest. The Sergeant’s voice is low and sharp but I’m sure the copepod can still hear some of what he’s saying. Its vocabulary seems fairly good but as for how much it understands…

“You said there’s only three of them in there right now, right?” Makado asks. I see the Sergeant shake his head.

“Absolutely not,” he says. “No way.”

“Sergeant,” Makado starts. I can hear a note of steel buried somewhere deep in her voice. “We need that crystal.”

“I’m going to give him the damn gun,” he tells her. Somewhere miles above us Makado slams her hand on her desk.

“Do not –“

“I am not,” the Sergeant says, very quietly, “letting any more of my people die down here today. There are three copepods in here, and fifty within two hundred yards, and a hundred within a mile, and they all are going to come running the instant we fire one of these guns.”

Makado is silent for a moment. “Fine,” she says. Her voice is hard enough to cut glass. “One rifle, no mags.”

“Fine.”

The channel cuts out with a resounding click. Elena and I trade glances; I can tell from her face that she’s never heard Makado that angry before.

The Sergeant reaches out for Crookshank’s rifle wordlessly and Crookshank hurries forward and hands it to him. The copepods on the walls draw in a little closer. I can see them practically twitching with anticipation, waiting for one of us to make the wrong move. The Sergeant turns, the slug rifle held in one hand, the barrel toward the ceiling. The copepod reaches out for it and the Sergeant places it gently in the thing’s hand.

Next to me I feel Elena shift her grip on her own rifle. The copepod looks down at the rifle in its hand for a long while.

“You should have taken the food,” the Sergeant tells it. The copepod in turn makes a snorting, chuffing noise. Then it closes its fist over the gun and with a sound like a groan of relief it bends and breaks. The bolt pops out and whizzes off somewhere in the darkness and the slugs pour from the ruined breach of the rifle like marbles, five of them clunking dully to the fleshy floor and rolling someplace out of sight. It tosses the bent frame of the rifle aside, and it clatters into the pile of junk and detritus and causes a small avalanche. The Sergeant steps back, eyes wary.

Then the copepod reaches over and shoves the crystal towards him. Its sharp spikes stick in the floor a little and leave bloody gouges in their wake. Whatever is inside it casting that green glow shifts lightly, with a kind of exaggerated slowness to it like it were floating in oil, and I glance down at the camera, make sure it’s in focus.

“Take…it,” the Big Guy tells us, and I can see by the look on the Sergeant’s face that he has a lot of questions he wants to ask, but instead of asking them he turns and gestures to Euler and after a little bit of prodding Euler manages to walk Joker forwards and find a decent place to grasp the crystal firmly, and then it picks it up.

One of the robot’s joints groans under the strain and Euler quickly prods at the joystick and it freezes, but after a few moments for he shrugs and continues twiddling, and Joker hefts the crystal like it were nothing and marches, a little unsteadily, back to us.

The copepod, meanwhile, has turned, rolling its enormous bulk delicately past us, and, with the assistance of one of the other copepods, which puts its arms on the Big Guy’s sides and is helping push, slithers out of the room. The audience, apparently, is over.

We all look around at each other but nobody feels any need to speak. There’s nothing to say. Crookshank is looking wistfully at the rifle on the ground, the barrel twisted like a piece of straw, but as we all begin to file out of the organelle and back into the snaking outer vent that got us there, Elena squeezes my hand firmly and I believe for a moment, just a moment, that everything might work out alright.

* * *

Elena twists around sharply and stares back into the darkness, her rifle low and ready. I peer backwards anxiously, then glance at her.

“What is it?”

She shakes her head, holds a hand up to me. “Shh,” she tells me.

Behind us the rest of the group marches onwards. There’s a distinct sense of relief in the air. Many of them, I realized belatedly, had expected that we were going to our deaths, that we were going to have to try to take the crystal by force. Ellis thought so for sure; his smile is unbearably bright and the Sergeant has had to tell him to shut up multiple times on the journey out, but his enthusiasm is so overflowing that he can’t shut up, he just keeps babbling on about whatever is in his head, what he’s going to do when he gets back to the surface, how nice it’ll be to have fresh air, so on and so on.

Elena is standing there quite still, her head cocked to one side. I listen but I can’t hear anything, and I start to tug at her sleeve, thinking that –

Wait.

I thought for a moment that I might have heard something, something very far away, but it was the sort of quiet, subtle noise that is hard to notice even in dead silence, and our current environment is very far from that. Everything down here seems to make noise; it’s a little like being in a forest in the middle of a windstorm. Instead of trees creaking and groaning and leaves scattering and wind rushing, you have the tramp tramp tramp of metal-plated feet, and the corresponding squelches of cleat sticking into the floor and the equally horrible meaty slurping sound with each step as they come unstuck. Then on top of that there’s groans and moans and straining noises. If you put your ear to someone’s stomach after they’ve just eaten you might get a sense of what it’s like, except fifty times louder and without anything in the way. The hallways shift around you, little wriggles of convulsive muscle movement going through them, and the noise is concurrent with the size and force of the muscles doing the moving. But there is a difference between the shrieking of a taut muscle and the shrieking of something in pain, far off in the distance, perhaps…

Elena leans in very sharply and reaches out with a balled fist and smacks the quick-release on the side of my helmet. The visor jets up and instantly the fetid smell of the Pit assaults me. My eyes start to water. “What the fuck,” I start to blurt, but Elena puts a gloved hand over my mouth. Her eyes are very clear and very bright; she’s already popped her own helmet so she can talk to me clearly.

“Listen to me, Roan,” she says, her eyes glancing over to the side and back the way we came before flicking over to me again. “If something happens down here, you stick to me like glue. Got it?”

I start to say something but she gives me a dangerous look and I swallow hard. “Got it,” I say.

“Okay, good,” she says. She flashes me a quick grin but I can tell she’s just giving me lip service, just from the way her eyes jump like roulette balls, scanning the surroundings even as she reaches over and flips my visor back into place. I had started to ask – well, I don’t know what I was going to ask. Probably something useless, some infantile plea for assurance that we were going to be okay. Clearly we aren’t if Elena is spooked like this. I look ahead of her at the rest of the team; they’re wary but not as wary as she is.

“Elena, what’s wrong?” I ask her, taking a hold of her arm, and she looks over at me and starts to answer, and then everything goes to hell.

Behind us I hear the sound I thought I had heard before, except much louder and clearer – a chittering shriek of either pain or rage, or perhaps some of both. Something about the tone makes me think it’s a copepod. The scream is cut off halfway through, and then we hear other screams, loud gurgling ululations, echoing through the vents. Everyone is yelling, everyone’s rifles are coming up very quickly, heads are whipping around and scattering the broad angry cones of headlamp light across the wet, glistening walls. The shrieks and cries are reaching a crescendo and it seems impossible that we can’t see any copepods at the present moment.

The side of the vent bulges inward suddenly and I see a long tapered mass move by, like a throat swallowing, and I realize that it must have been a copepod, sliding past as quickly as its resin-coated carapace will allow.

Elena has her hand under my arm and is tugging me along as quickly as we can go. I am deathly afraid I’m going to trip and fall and splatter face-first into the wet, bloody floor; I’m not digging in the cleats all the way, there isn’t time to with the way she’s rushing me. I want to reach down and pull out my sidearm but I don’t trust myself to keep ahold of it if I were to.

I can see a flickering glance of Euler’s face, bringing up the rear behind us, feverishly punching buttons on the controller and working the joystick. He looks frightened and I feel suddenly and incongruously bad for Euler, because he clearly has hated this place from the second he came down here, and it’s only his job that’s making him do it, and now he, and probably all of us, are going to die because of it.

I remember Makado very seriously considering us just opening up on the Big Guy, on the king of the copepods or whatever the hell the hierarchy is down here, just because he wanted a gun instead of just giving us the crystal. The wan green light is still pressing tightly against my back from where Joker has the damn thing clenched tight in his metal hands, and I feel my lip curling and realize that maybe Elena is right, maybe Makado is out of line, maybe she’s let her – her obsession with making sure that the Pit doesn’t hurt anything and anyone else lead her to some bad decisions. Or maybe –

There’s a shriek behind us, sounding terribly close now. Elena and I look back, as does Euler, but we still can’t see anything.

I have never felt so helpless in my life. If a copepod comes out of nowhere and snatches me right now, that would be it, I’d be done for. I don’t want to even pretend that Elena would turn everyone around and get them to come charging back into certain doom to save my skinny ass. I can imagine the conversation now: “Oh yeah, El, sure we know you were getting your pussy eaten by that frail little skeleton girl from admin but no way in hell we’re risking our neck for her, capisce?”

All it would take, I figure, is for one of them to dart up from behind, where our visibility is the worst, grab my leg, and then reverse and zoom out of sight. They can move so quickly down here it doesn’t seem real. It’s like the way seals move, fluttering around on the ice on their bellies, tucked down and torpedo-shaped, their arms slicked back against their sides unless they’re reaching forward to dig in with their blunt, ichor-caked fingertips, adding momentum, whipping around hairpin turns.

A crazy thought strikes me as I stumble again and Elena wrenches me back to my feet – being a copepod must be like living in a funhouse where everything is a slide. I almost start to laugh but I shove it back down, deep down.

It happens very quickly. There is a loud chittering screech from ahead of us and we both whip around. There in front, clinging to the ceiling of the vent, is a slender copepod, slithering towards us hand over hand. When someone’s headlamp – I think it’s Fumi – strikes it in the face it shrieks and falls on him and one of the guns roars and even though my earplugs are in it is louder than loud, the flash from the muzzle is like the sun, and I think I shriek in terror and surprise and then I really do fall, but Elena, angel that she is, is there to pull me back to my feet.

While I’ve been face-down on the floor someone has shot the copepod a little off-center, and a hole as big around as my fist is half-heartedly gushing a chunky, glutinous white ichor. The copepod’s arms and fins are fluttering and we all give it a wide berth, hustling towards the exit.

It is such a long way off, though, and that copepod was only the first of many. Once we shot the first one there was no going back, and the air quickly turned smoky and foul with the cordite stench of gunfire. It’s impossible to hear anything besides rage-filled animal screeches and the great pounding thud every time someone fires off one of the guns. The pounding and the sharp crackling report melds together in my head and it sounds as though there is an idiot child pounding on a giant drum, having a temper tantrum, right next to me.

Elena tugs me onward. A copepod breaks into the center of our formation and brings its titan fist down in an arc, and though it is pinioned by rifle fire and dies twitching its fist still hurtles downwards and impacts square on Ellis’ head. He falls like a tree and there is cursing over the radio link and someone very close is screaming Ellis’ name and it takes me a moment to realize that it’s me, that I’m the one heaving out his name like it were vomit and staring back at his body, splayed spread-eagle on the ground, his visor shattered, part of his spine jutting through the thick fabric at the back of the neck of the suit. The copepod had hit him so hard that some part of him broke, and his head was forced downward, crushing his neck.

After that I consciously observe very little. It’s like my mind retreats into some dark corner of the inside of my skull and sits there in a huddle weeping while whatever animal, lizard part of me takes the reins is utterly unfazed by everything. I remember little flashes here and there, lit by gunfire; I remember copepods like enamel-white cruise missiles, darting in from barely-seen slits in the walls, their hands reaching for me, Elena slashing at them desperately with her knife; I remember Fumi’s bearded face, drawn and ashen, down on one knee slamming another magazine into his rifle and the sound it made when he pulled the bolt back was like glass shattering; I remember vast white fingers wrapping around Crookshank’s thick waist and jerking him off of his feet and whisking him away into the darkness while everyone twisted and shot haphazardly, trying not to hit him. His face I remember particularly, for it was wide and frightened and for a moment I thought I could see the little boy he’d once been, peering out at me from inside the man’s body and wordlessly begging me to save him, but of course I couldn’t. I had joined in, snatching the pistol from my waist and squeezing off every shot in the magazine back into the darkness behind us. I don’t think I hit anything, other than the walls of the vent, leaving bleeding puncture-marks and a haze of smoke. Then Elena yanked me off of my feet again in her hurry to get us out of there and I had dropped the gun. I cried out for it but there was no helping it, we were long gone.

Our numbers dwindle one by one, first Ellis then Crookshank. I don’t see Klaus get taken; he just disappears in the frantic haze of gunsmoke and flashlight blur, and everyone is calling out for him. I remember the Sergeant barking, his voice like sandpaper, that Klaus is gone, his vitals aren’t registering, just go, and us all going.

I remember seeing Joker, seeing snippets of Joker, rather, caught strobelike in the lights, battering aside a copepod, flashing a gunmetal-grey arm out to block one from reaching for Euler, the crystal set aside on the ground for a moment to give the machine a greater range of motion. I see its fingers fix around the wrist of the copepod and then twist and with a piercing cry of rage the thing draws its hand back, clutching at the bloody, spurting stump where its hand had been, the shock of it giving Joker the moment of hesitation it needed in order to bound towards the copepod and slam its metal fist through the tough but brittle exoskeleton and submerge up to its elbow in the copepod’s guts. It pulls out a handful of slime and then closes its mechanical fist and pounds the copepod in the head and silences its screeching. Then –

“Roan, we have to go!” Elena screams from next to me, but I don’t hear her, I’ve stopped, or almost stopped, turned half around, walking precariously backwards.

There is something looming in the darkness behind Joker, something decidedly not a copepod. Joker’s head whips around, some sort of sensor or scanner detecting the movement, and the floodlights built into the machine’s face illuminate the writhing, terrible bulk of the Leechman, standing there in a slump on two wormy, leech-filled feet, shiny and slick and horrible. I let out a wordless cry and Elena looks back at me and sees it too and stops, I can hear her words die in her throat.

The Leechman is enormous, its height and bulk so immense that it seems to fill the entire breadth of the vent with a solid wall of squirming leeches. Joker cocks its arm back as Euler goggles up at the monstrosity lurking, head cocked at an inquisitive angle, staring down at the metal toy in front of it.

Then before Joker can throw the punch the Leechman reaches down and envelops the machine in one massive appendage. I can see metal cracking, rivulets of rust and slime trickling down Joker’s armored legs. It manages to grab one of the leeches and crush it in its fist but then the Leechman tightens its grasp and one of Joker’s arms pops off, sparking all the way down until it thuds on the corridor floor. Elena is tugging at me but I can’t move, I can’t think, I can only watch, mute, praying the camera is getting all of this, as it scoops up Euler as well in the other arm. He tries to run but doesn’t get anywhere, the arm stretching out after him and nabbing him, tendrils of leeches knotted or grown together slipping over him. I can see them biting into him, forcing themselves into him, and when he opens his mouth to scream they pour inside and he chokes and sputters and then they close over him and he is gone.

The Leechman tosses Joker to the side and he clatters to the ground like a mannequin, the roll-bars on his ribcage bent and shattered, his head dented and compressed. He rolls once then lies still.

Then, with barely a glance in our direction – if it even has eyes, if it even has anything to sense with as I understand the word – the Leechman reaches down and picks up the crystal, and stomps off down the vent. It is such a banal, normal motion that I almost burst out laughing, but I get the feeling that if I let myself laugh I will keep laughing and laughing until everything falls out of me and I’m left empty and echoing.

Ahead of us someone shoots again and a copepod screeches. I turn to see it, darting in, fins streamlined and tucked against its body, spewing ichor from one double-fisted hole in its carapace, a grazing wound, apparently, as it tugs Peter off his feet and down beneath it. I scream his name and start to rush forward but Elena blocks me, then steadies her rifle, but before she can fire the copepod pushes off and bears him struggling into the darkness.

“Goddam it!” I shriek and start after him, but Elena tugs me back and pushes me forward so hard that I go sprawling onto my knees. I cast her a furious glance and scramble to my feet but before I can say something cutting and hurtful that I’ll probably regret, even if Peter’s just been fucking snapped up by a copepod, the Sergeant calls from ahead of us to hurry the fuck up, it’s time to leave, ladies, and I look ahead and see something that makes my jaw drop and my heart do flips in my chest – there ahead of us is the vast metal retaining wall that blocks off the barrows from the rest of the Pit, and there in the center of it is the great reinforced door, standing open and letting a flood of light pour in.

I look at Elena and take her offered hand and she has tears in her eyes but she isn’t faltering, not even for a moment, and in that instant whatever anger I could have felt at her is gone, utterly gone.

Behind us a copepod shrieks and then Fumi – oh, thank god, at least Fumi made it – fires at it, and the slug passes so close to me that I can feel the wind even through the suit, and then we, Elena and I, her arm around me urging me forward and keeping me upright, make it to the door in what feels like an instant, and once we’re through the Sergeant slams it closed and spins the wheel to lock it.

And then, having nothing else sensible to do, I fall to the ground and start to cry.

* * *

I’ve got my helmet off and my sleeves rolled up. My gloves are lying on my stomach. Elena is running her hand softly through my hair and my eyes are a little puffy and sore but I’ve stopped crying. My nose, also, is becoming a little less stuffed, but that means I can smell the Pit again, so it’s a mixed blessing.

Elena’s been crying too but somehow I think she’s pulled it off more gracefully than I have. Instead of bawling and letting it all out in one go she’s managed to keep it down to a mute trickle. Every now and then she wipes at her eyes again and I squeeze her hand tighter for a moment and she squeezes mine back.

Ten minutes ago she’d leant in and held me very tight, even at the awkward angle she could manage, there on the ground, and I could feel in her a shuddering relief, an ease of tension. The copepods had stopped banging on the door ten minutes before that, and we had heard soft slithering sounds as they had retreated, and then we were alone in the silence.

I don’t feel like I’m alive. I don’t feel like I really made it out of there, I feel like a ghost, like I’m looking down from a great height at this slim, dark-haired girl in an ugly orange suit laying on the fleshy floor, looking beat-up and tired and done with this shit but not in a determined way, more like a resigned, given-up, “okay just keep rolling over me, fucking whatever” kind of way.

The Sergeant is quietly arguing with Makado about ten feet away. I’ve turned off my radio so I can’t hear her, just him, one-sided and quietly serious, his face like an Easter Island statue. Moa? Moai? Maui? I should look up the word. I should know something like that.

“Klaus, Crookshank. Ellis is dead for sure, we saw it. Euler. Fumi is okay, Roan’s okay, Elena is okay.”

A pause, then he closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I can hear a tinny scream from all the way over here, of terrible rage that turns to grief partway through, and I know from the sound of it that she’s asked about Peter. I look at Elena and she looks at me.

“Are you okay?” she mouths at me, which is a question so incredibly dumb given the situation that my immediate instinct is to roll my eyes at her. Then it strikes me how incredibly understated just rolling my eyes would be and I nearly start crying again, and she sees it on my face and immediately her whole face shifts. She leans in and the sheer amount of care there does a strange thing to me and I bite my lip hard and reach out for her and put my hand to her cheek, and she kisses my palm despite how sweaty and gross it must be and I allow myself the indulgence of one brief moment to feel utterly, stupendously, selfishly relieved that her and I both are okay.

I again want to tell her something I know I shouldn’t but I stop myself. “No,” the Sergeant is saying, meanwhile. “No, we didn’t get the crystal.”

I hear another, quieter outburst from the other end, and the Sergeant holds the radio a little further away from his ear. “Joker’s fucked,” he says patiently. “As is Euler.”

“The Leechman got the crystal,” I call. My voice is scratchy. I cough, clear my throat and then repeat myself. “I saw it,” I add.

“Me too,” Elena nods, glancing at me. “Roan’s right, it was the Leechman.”

The Sergeant glances at us for a moment, probably wondering if our judgment can be trusted at the present moment, then nods and repeats what we’ve just told him to Makado. I hear a tiny sound of something shattering as if thrown and then the radio clicks off with a screech. The Sergeant sticks it back into his belt holster with a sigh and looks over at us. Fumi hasn’t said a word since we made it through the barrier; he’s slumped against the wall with his head in his hands. He looks up and when I can see his face it’s as though he’s a different person – that aura of impenetrable cool he’d maintained so elegantly up until now is utterly shattered.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” the Sergeant tells us, and after a moment Elena nods and gets to her feet and helps me up and then we get the fuck out of there.

We make our way through Oyster’s Shame and up the Cord. It is, insanely, four in the afternoon, which seems so banal and impossible to me that I nearly start laughing when Elena tells me the time. It feels like it’s about 13 in the evening or so.

We take frequent breaks, rest our legs and our hearts. There is less of a sense of urgency now, and the Sergeant doesn’t care as much what we do as long as we all stay together. Even so we don’t talk much. There’s nothing to say, or maybe there’s too much.

When we get to the top of the Cord the Sergeant looks back at us, pausing before he opens the door. It looks like he’s going to say something, but he stops, shakes his head minutely, and throws it open. The light from the harsh fluorescents pours down on him and for a moment all I can see is a silhouette.

Then a gunshot rings out from the vent behind him and the Sergeant takes one step forward, totters and falls. He lands hard on the metal grating of the floor and doesn’t move. A red pinprick brightens in the middle of his back, just on the other side of where his heart would have been.

I hear rattling from the staircase below as Fumi somehow manages to spur himself into action and sprint down it, taking the stairs two at a time. Before Elena or I can force ourselves to move, a figure steps into view. It holds a very big revolver and it’s aimed straight at me. Elena and I glance at each other and then raise our hands shakily into the air, and the figure cocks its head lightly, and as my eyes adjust to the light I can see it grin. Then I can see more of its face and I feel my mouth drop open as I start to say its name.

“Surprise,” Erica Walken says.

Continue with Part 23

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#mystery flesh pit #writing #writeblr #original writing #horror #novel #Michael Crichton #caving #disaster #thriller

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daybreakdarling · 5 years ago

Text

Rattlesnakes and Peacekeepers (McCree x Reader)

Word Count: 6.2k+ Trigger warnings: Snakes, minor violence Crossposted on: Ao3

- - - - -

Not a lot happened within Route 66. While it still was a tourist attraction, every ring loses its shine after a while. There were the curious tourists that come for the vast canyon views, locals that lazed under the humid air, and rowdy biker groups that liked to cause minor inconveniences, but unless unless you had a knack for the oddly-shaped cacti or dirt-tasting coffee, nothing particularly interesting would be seen in it.

If something did happen, it’s usually just out of it.

Just by the borders of the main area, almost close to the next road, was a shooting range. One hectare of field boxed by metal fencing with a farm on the east and a house just by the left of it. It had been managed by a nice family of five. It had what you needed: If you wanted to shoot, you line up cans and bottles. If you wanted a break, the family had drinks ready on the porch. If you needed a place to stay, rooms were offered at reasonable prices.

The only rule: always shoot something, never someone.

It used to be the joy of those two lived between the counties; anyone who came by at least once would always agree that it was a gem in the land—a getaway for the good, bad, and anyone in between. The family didn’t ask for a lot either, just good company, and the people were happy to oblige to such good hospitality.

However, after a raid by a gang from the neighboring state, the place was unsalvageable. The family moved out, and the joy with them. No one bothered to take care of it either; it wouldn’t be the same. From there, it was left to collect dust.

That was twenty years ago.

McCree was staying in New Mexico for a few days. It was that time of the year where a number of agents were heading back to their hometowns, and since he hadn’t been called for any missions for a while, he decided to do the same. Soldier was a little skeptical to have him visit due to a possible run in with his old gang, but Ana was quick to allow McCree with the reassurance that it would be good for him.

So there he was, on the last day of his short break, standing under the canopy of the abandoned farmhouse.

He visited the range a lot with his parents when he was younger. McCree spent long afternoons practicing with his father while his mother talked with the family. Even after he joined Deadlock, a number of the gang members, himself included, visited the range just to enjoy a place where everyone was viewed the same. He had a lot of good memories associated with it, so when the news of the attack went across New Mexico, it was an understatement to say that he was devastated.

He leaned on the porch fence, careful not to put too much weight and cause more damage. If the buildings creaked just by the desert wind, what more by him?

Looking around, the field’s grasses were tall and unkept, and the barrels, boxes, and fences used for the shooting range across the land were old and withered. The place definitely saw better days, but it was just as he remembered it.

A number of bottles were on the fences, so McCree raised Peacekeeper for a casual shot.

Kling!

…

That wasn’t his bullet.

McCree looked to the direction of the shot to see an officer. You were dressed in casual attire: a tan blouse, greyish-green tactical pants, and brown hiking boots. On your head was a cowboy hat like McCree’s, but the brown had already withered into a lighter shade and your hat band was a white weaved braid. You were far from him, but the only thing that gave McCree the idea of your position was the shining star lapel on the left of your shirt, and a mean-looking revolver.

The cowboy took a shot to the can next to yours.

McCree was quick to raise his hands up when you point your gun at him.

“I don’t mean t’cause any harm!” McCree called out. Even in the long distance, anyone in Route 66 could easily shoot a man between the eyes (example: himself).

McCree hoped that you’ll put down the gun or return to shooting, but you started to advance towards him. The cowboy knew not to mess with the law (he’d done so many times in the past, and that definitely got him somewhere), so he stood on guard; McCree even placed his hat to his chest, hoping that showing respect will keep him from being turned in. He did have a bounty over his head, after all.

“State your name and business,” you demanded.

“The name’s Jesse McCree.”

There’s shock, then a slight shift in your grip. The man’s been on gun point many times like these before, but for some reason your presence just intimidated him more than it should. McCree was quick to speak up.

“Just ‘ere t’enjoy the Miller’s shootin’ range like anyone else, deputy.”

After what felt like an eternity, McCree sighed as you returned your gun to your holster.

You leaned on the porch fence beside him, arms crossed as you looked into the distance. The air wasn’t completely comfortable, but it wasn’t tense. McCree took out a cigar, and he gestured it to you as if to ask if you wanted one. You shook your head, and he proceeded to light it.

“What’s an officer of the law doin’ ‘round the dusty outskirts of Route 66?” he asked, blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Shootin’,” you answered simply.

You gave him a look over.

“What’s an ex-Deadlock gang member turned covert-operative Overwatch agent doin’ round ‘ere?”

McCree choked on the cigar for a second.

“... shootin’.”

Silence passed.

“Well, there’s some more bottles n’ caps by th’ back of th’ house,” you chirped, brushing past him.

“I’ll fetch ‘em for ya. I’d like t’see that infamous aim of yours.”

It takes McCree a moment to register that you just called him out of his affiliations, one of which he was sure would not reach as these parts of the world, and simply dropped the topic as if it was a broken gun. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve taken for as just a normal officer doing their job, but it was clear that you knew a lot more than you let on.

He whipped around to see you heading to the back of the farm house, and he rushed to get to you.

“Now wait a gosh darn second, how’d you—“

”It’s either we shoot glasses as equals, or I’m interrogating you as an officer of the law,” you cut him off, facing him just as he was about to reach for you.

With eyes narrowed and threatening, McCree could say that he was looking at a snake that was ready to bite. If looks could kill, he’d be dead just by the fierceness in your eyes. As he took in your features, there were a faint scars on your face, light eyebags, and faint wrinkles, no doubt all from your time bringing peace and order as your duty called for it. A thought of how many criminals you have wrangled in your years came to him. You looked only a couple of years older than him, had you encountered Deadlock in the day as well? Did you hear of him from those days? McCree cleared his throat, hand subconsciously reaching for his gun.

You looked at his hand, and at your glance he took hold of the handle.

“Nothing goes past Rattlesnake,” you threatened, hand patting the holster of your gun.

“And if I was on my shift you’d be behind bars by now.”

McCree expected you to pull out some handcuffs—your statement sounded exactly like those catchphrases in shows before a character does something—but when you turned away and knelt down to collect bottles he’s just left to blink.

“But I’m not,” you shrugged.

“Besides, it’d be disrespectful t’go against the one rule on this old range. You know that rule?”

“Shoot something, never someone.”

Getting up with the targets, you shove a number in his arms without warning, making McCree scramble in an attempt to not drop any of the glass-based targets. You explained to him that you’ll find some more by the other side of the house, and then told him to line up the ones you had given him.

“If I’m not back by th’ time you’re done, just go ahead. I might be findin’ somethin’ a lil’ more interestin’ than bottles.”

As you turned away to do your task, McCree thanked the heavens that the rules of the shooting range haven’t changed after all those years.

>>>

Your aim was impressive. As the two of you stood across each other and shot down targets, McCree can’t help but nod approvingly at your shots. When he asked you to shoot six targets off a fence, each one is knocked off clean with a speed that competed with his own. Even when he tries to one up you with tricks like spinning his revolver out before shooting, you do him one better by making twice the amount of spins before taking out targets that were farther than him. McCree knew he was a show off, but you were really rubbing it in.

Not that he minded anyway.

“Haven’t gotten your name, deputy,” McCree called over a shot.

“Can’t keep callin’ ya that now, can I?”

He heard a snort from beside him.

“You can and you will if you want to keep th’ hat from a bullet,” you replied mischievously, flashing him a grin.

McCree placed a hand on his hat protectively, making you holler.

“(Y/N) (L/N). Heard the last name before?” you asked.

“Sorta rings a bell,” he replied.

“Am I supposed t’know?”

You feigned hurt, and McCree rolled his eyes as he reloaded his gun.

“If you’ve ever heard of th’ ‘Desert Venom’ predicament, my father was th’ one who wrangled that rattlesnake. Our family’s known for handlin’ those devils, even got a couple myself,” you boasted, pointing a thumb at yourself for emphasis.

McCree smiled at your confidence.

“I know of those days; just didn’t know it was your Pa that got it,” McCree said, remembering news of a six foot long rattlesnake that went around New Mexico for a couple of months. He was in his teen years when it was taking place, and he was glad that the reptile had been caught before it could reach Santa Fe.

“Is that why your gun’s called Rattlesnake?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Sorta? A good gunsmith buddy of mine made her for me. I didn’t even ask ‘im t’design her like this, but he did, and I loved it.”

“Mind if I take a closer look?”

McCree had actually been eyeing your gun for a while. He didn’t notice it when you had the weapon straight at him, but the gold and silver embossing around the revolver got his attention in the span of your friendly competition. Stolen glances weren’t enough to really see what was on it (especially with you shooting at rapid speed, it was just the gun rolling back and forth and never staying still), but it was already eating at him.

He was half-expecting you to say no to him, since there were unspoken rules about handling fellow gunslingers’ guns, but McCree was shocked when you gestured the gun towards him.

“I’ll let you see her if you show me yours.”

He obliged, handing you Peacekeeper.

“Careful, she bites,” you joked as you watched him gawk over the amount of work on the gun.

The more he analyzed it the more details he found. The rattlesnake started from the frame from the revolver and coiled throughout. Engravings were left out from the cylinder but continued around the barrel, and despite it’s minimalized look it was clear that it was made to look as if the snake was striking with its open mouth aligned with the muzzle. McCree wished he had met your friend to applaud the work because heck, even the scales were insanely realistic to the touch.

“She’s a beauty,” he whistled.

“I have to say the same for yours,” you spoke. McCree watched as you held his gun, the same look of wonder and curiosity on your face.

“Name?”

“Peacekeeper.”

“That’s a lil’ ironic considering your work.”

McCree shrugged.

“You have a gun named after one of th’ most venomous snakes in New Mexico, and you’re an officer of th’ law. I’d say that’s ironic.”

You both shared a laugh.

“Let’s get out of th’ heat,” you offered, lightly tugging him by the serape to lead him back to the house.

Once you both were out of the desert sun and seated on the porch, the two of you shared some stories. McCree happily talked about his life when he still lived in New Mexico, occasionally dabbled into some Deadlock days, and quietly mumbled about Blackwatch events. You asked him some normal questions (“Favorite part of town?”, “Been to the High Side Saloon?”), but of course he expected some rather personal ones (“How did you join Deadlock?”). McCree answered those more-or-less truthfully, but when he only gave you silence you knew better than to test your luck.

“I apologize for prying too much,” you said sheepishly.

“Comes with years of interrogatin’ folks.”

You were a good fellow—McCree admitted to you that he enjoyed your company more than he expected—but he couldn’t get too comfortable with someone he just met. A feeling in his gut told him that maybe, just maybe, he could open up to you more with time.

You, on the other hand, talked freely about your life. Before becoming an officer, you were a bit of a rebel in your youth, wreaking havoc in your mother’s diner and stealing bikes parked around saloons. You were a kid with a dream to live up to your family name, capturing and wrangling dangerous snakes from across the lands. It was endearing to see the passion in your eyes, but then you explained that you had to become a deputy to earn money for your family. Your bright demeanor turned into one of disappointment.

“A trade-off, really,” you said sadly.

“Parents didn’t force me to do it either, but we needed more income. Snake wranglin’ can only give so much, and it really pays when something big is out there, which is rare.”

“What made you become an officer then?”

“Similarities. Instead of takin’ out poisonous snakes, I’m takin’ out poisonous people,” you answered, voice taking a more serious tone.

“See it this way: almost all snakes attack humans out of self defense. We take them out ‘cause we don’t want them t’hurt others, but killin’ doesn’t have t’be the first decision. They’re just out there survivin’. The snakes my family catch are relocated to research centers for antidotes.

“People on the other hand? It depends. If you’re protectin’ yourself, alright, I’m just gonna take a different plan for ya. If you’re savin’ someone, I’ll even help if there’s a more wicked party involved. But if you’re hurtin’ someone for th’ sole purpose of being a dick? I’m not about that. I make sure not to kill the guys, but if push comes to shove then a few bullets will need to hit some areas. They all end up in the county jail under my call.”

“So people are like snakes to you?” McCree asked.

“At the start of the job it looked that way, yeah, but after years under this hat, you learn how to decipher a person with a look or two.”

You hung your head down as your eyes were casted to the sands, a distant look on your face. You were probably thinking of those years, having to bring people behind bars for the crimes and felonies they committed. The contemplation made you look a lot older than you were, and McCree wondered if he looked the same on days where he would be in deep thought such as yourself.

“Is that why you haven’t arrested me yet?”

“You’re an outlaw worth sixty million, McCree, but I know a man with a good heart when I see one,” you said as looked at him straight in the eyes.

“Snakes will shed their skin for the season, and people can leave behind their pasts for the future. I know you’re not the man you once were.”

The two of you became silent.

“The way you reference your advice to snakes is almost unhealthy,” McCree chuckled after a moment.

You were about to retort to his statement until you see the genuine grin on his face.

“But I’ll have you know that all your words mean a lot to me.”

McCree watched as you blinked, clearly not expecting his response. You probably weren’t expecting him to be as understanding to your weird philosophy on life, and judging at how pleased you were, McCree would be more than welcome to listen to you talk a lot more. Your eyes then closed as a meek smile came upon your face, and a soft snort came from you as you mumbled something about him being a dork.

Just as you were about to speak, something started beeping. McCree shot up in his seat in alarm, but he noticed a flashing light from a metal wristband you wore on your left.

You had that the whole time?

“It’s a voice call, they won’t see you,” you assured him, pressing the small light on the metal. Before he could ask who you meant by “they”, a small blue hologram came up with a phone icon and words too small from him to read.

[ CALLING FROM: “THE HITCHING POST” SALOON, AMARILLO, NEW MEXICO ]

“Sheriff (Y/N) (L/N) speaking.”

Wait a minute, you were the sheriff? Not just a deputy?

“Sheriff!” a hurried voice called.

Gunshots were heard, and people were screaming from the other line. At this point you had gotten up, your face scrunched up in worry. McCree could only watch as your fists trembled.

“Officer, what’s goin—”

“It’s the Valley Marauders! T-They’re here again and we thought we could handle—”

CRASH!

“If any of ya shits call the cops on us, you’ve got a bullet waitin’ for ya!” a shrill voice rang before a rapid succession of shots came, all of which slightly muffled from all the sounds coming through.

“They just don’t learn their fuckin’ lesson,” you growled.

McCree held his tongue as he watched you worked quickly, sending a number of different messages and signals with the watch. He noticed as you pulled up one red screen with a striking snake symbol, and immediately swiping it up. From afar he heard a loud engine roar.

“I’ve sent more officers. Be there in five,” you answered through gritted teeth, clearly trying to stay calm for the sake of the victim.

“Please hurry—”

The line went dead.

McCree attempted to speak to you before he saw dust pick from his peripheral vision. He turned to look and there in the distance a driverless motorcycle came speeding down towards the two of you. The vehicle was a shimmering black and silver, it had glowing blue wheels indicating that it ran on a hard light technology, and it ran in a speed that would break all the laws in the world. The main thing however, was how it looked like a striking snake, based on the way the front area had been personalized.

The motorcycle came to an abrupt stop beside you, bringing with it all the dust from its travel. McCree coughed from all the sand, and just as the cloud dispersed, you were sat on the seat with both hands on the handlebars, revving the engine. On the side of the motorcycle were the words “Death Adder”, and if that wasn’t a better name for the bike, he didn’t know what would be. He didn’t think you could look more badass than you were before, but that thought was cast aside as you pulled him and sat him down behind you.

“Hold on to that hat of yours.”

>>>

When you said that you would be there in five minutes, five minutes was really all it took. McCree had passed Amarillo a number of times to know that from the shooting range, it was an approximate fifteen minute ride at the speed limit 70 mph. However, you kicked the gear to 140 mph (or was it higher? He couldn’t remember over ringing in his ears caused by the winds), effectively cutting time and making McCree wonder how people could handle speeds like these. You slowed down once you were within range of the town and parked just outside of it as to not give away your positions.

The area was quiet and deserted. Even the wind was still, making the air feel suffocating with the midday heat of the desert. You and McCree walked through the street, the clicks of his spurs echoing in the silence. When you make a turn, the road opened up to the main road, an open area that stretched to a cliffside closed off by wood fences.

“Just like the movies,” McCree noted.

“You think we’re gonna have a Mexican standoff?”

Just as you were about to joke back, a stout man walked out from an alleyway and stood twenty feet away at the middle of the road opposite of the both of you.

“I was thinkin’ you were never gonna show up, sheriff!” the man grinned, raising dual revolvers up in the air.

“Not I would mind! It’s ‘bout time you ran with your tail between your legs.”

“What do you want, Danford?” you growled.

“That’s Two-Shootin’ Sherrock to you, (L/N),” he hissed.

“Dual-wielding devil! Gang leader of the Valley Marauders! And you best be rememberin’ it when my bullet hits ya!”

“Hey now, since when did anyone give you the permission to make that call?” Mccree said, taking a step forward.

“If anythin’, you’re the one who’s gonna be takin’ a bullet from the sheriff's gun.”

The man’s eyes widened before narrowing, his grin becoming even wider.

“Well,” he dawled, “if it ain’t Jesse McCree.”

“I’m surprised you’re with the sheriff! Aren’cha just as bad as us?”

McCree glanced at you, then back at Danford.

“I’m not bad, not good… but I sure as hell ain’t ugly.”

You tried to keep your smile down, you really did, but the chuckle escaped you. The stout man puffed up in anger, making him appear bigger than he was. Danford brought his fingers to his mouth and made a long shrill whistle. McCree watched as your eyes widened before taking out Rattlesnake, and he took it as a sign to take out Peacekeeper.

“I’m guessin’ that’s bad.”

“No shit, cowboy.”

Footsteps came from multiple directions. McCree’s first guess was that ten men would come out, but after the thirteenth one he was weighing his options as how to go about the situation. Twenty men trapped the both you in a circle. They all stood fifteen feet away from you, and all were armed with a weapon. More than half had their guns at you, but that did little to lessen McCree’s nerves. Peacekeeper only had seven bullets, and even with a quick reload to take out fourteen, their bullets would be shot before he knew it.

“What’re ya gonna do, sheriff?” Danford called from the other side.

You hissed, and McCree had to do a double-take to make sure you actually did that.

“What did you do to the people?”

The gang leader laughed before snapping his fingers.

From his left, two gang members walked out carrying a limp body. McCree watched as you stiffened at the sight: an officer whose face was beaten in, blue, and bleeding. He was alive, but if kept in his current state it didn’t take a genius to know that he wouldn’t last long. You were shaking in rage, and McCree had to take hold of your wrist to keep you grounded.

“This lil’ guy,” Danford gestured, propping the officer’s chin up with the end of his gun. At the sight of discomfort, McCree tightened his grip as you pulled.

“He called you, yeah? Well, we didn’t like that, so we taught ‘im a lesson. And honestly? You gotta get better men! They’re all cozy over by the back of the saloon.”

“Put the gun down!” you yelled.

You lunged forward, but one of the gang members quickly stepped forward and harshly pushed a gun into your temple. You stood still with the barrel pointed straight at you, but no effort was made to move back. McCree gritted his teeth as he pulled you beside him, wrapping an arm by your waist to keep you from at bay... for now.

“How sweet,” the gang member who had pointed the gun at you smiled mockingly.

“Is the outlaw your boyfriend now? How would that look on your reputation, sheriff?”

McCree couldn’t see your expression.

Danford pushed the gun further into the chin of your officer, and at the sight of more pain you struggled under McCree’s grip. He held unto you tighter, not wanting you to get a bullet or twenty into either of you.

“I swear to the all the gods, Jesse,” you murmured just enough from him to hear, “release me.”

“No can do, sheriff,” he replied.

“Bad things come out of people without a plan.”

A face came to McCree’s mind, but the memory was suppressed.

His words were enough to calm you down as your posture slackened. McCree released his hold as you stood straight, looking down at Rattlesnake. Danford barked an order from afar, and all the guns around you were loaded. McCree felt a light jab at his side, and he moved to stay back-to-back with you. You held the brim of your hat before taking it off it completely, a clear sign that you meant business. Before McCree could ask, you pushed your hat into his free hand.

“I didn’t want to use this,” you sighed, grip tightening on your revolver. McCree could feel heat building up from the side where you held your gun.

“At my call, I need you to get down.”

The tone in your voice was similar to when you had threatened him earlier that day, but the malice in your voice was not directed to him. McCree knew that you couldn’t see his nod, but the sentiment was taken as he heard the familiar click of a gun.

“Now!”

BANG!

Silence followed

Your ejector rod clicked the cylinder out, making multiple shell casings hit the ground. McCree peered up to notice a dust cloud clear around him, and he realized that you had done a full 360 turn based on the skids on the dirt. He clutched your hat closer to his chest, and the gunslinger looked beside him to count almost twenty-four empty casings on a pile, not believing that you had shot and loaded quadruple the amount of bullets in your gun.

What in tarnation—

“Argh!”

McCree looked up to see each gang member drop one by one, each clutching to one of their sides. He looked up at you just as you blew the smoke from your gun, and when you looked down at him to give him a small smirk.

“What? Did’ya think that only guys like you had all the flashy shit?”

Once all the bodies hit the ground, McCree handed you your hat as you pulled him up. The leader was shaking. The two gang members who had brought in your officer had fled the scene, leaving Danford to hold up the unconscious man by the scruff of his uniform. He was shaking so much McCree was convinced he’d turn himself in, but when the gun is pointed to the head of the unconscious man, McCree just knew the guy was stubborn.

��Now, y’know I don’t like repeatin’ myself,” you spoke you walked forward. McCree’s gun was pointed straight at the man.

You and McCree backed Danford up to the fence, the wood creaking by the pressure of the man who tried to find an escape route. The cliff was steep slope that curved into a desert meadow with high grasses and rocks. Most gang members would take the opportunity to get down the hill with the assured safety of the grass, but it was obvious that Danford didn’t have the physicality to do so.

“STAY BACK!” Danford yelled, pushing the tip of the gun into a wound, making the officer wince.

McCree sucked in a breath.

“Come on now, Sherrock, no need to get all riled up.”

You and the gang leader looked at him incredulously.

“What?” you seethed.

McCree pointed his gun to you, and you held your hands up. You had no more bullets to shoot.

“Put the man over to the side, and I won’t let the sheriff get t’ ya.”

“McCree, what—”

“Gun down, (L/N).”

Your eyes widened before your expression shifted, and you put your gun back to your holster. He tipped his head down to nod at Danford, and you barely caught the wink he gave you under the brim of his hat.

Sneaky.

Danford wasn’t convinced by McCree’s sudden willingness to help him, so you took the initiative to back away, hands up to prove that you weren’t able to pull anything on him. The man gave McCree a grin, thinking that he had won with the help of a fellow outlaw, then threw the officer to the side. You ran over to him to inspect the wounds; the damage had been done, and he would have to be out of commission for a while.

“Now partner,” Danford said, patting McCree by the shoulder while grinning mockingly at you.

“What do you think we should do ‘bout the deputy? I say we should beat ‘em! It’s two against one!”

The leader was too busy reveling in his “win” that he hasn’t noticed the shift under McCree’s serape. Just as he turned his attention back to him, a flashbang was thrown at him square in the face. You whistled as you watched Danford fall to the ground; it would be an understatement to say that it hurt, judging by the burns to the face. Unfortunately, McCree was barely a few feet away, so he also got the force of the flash.

You ran up to help him, but you weren’t fast enough as he staggered back, lost his footing, and fell on his behind.

“You’re smart,” you said to him with a smile, kneeling beside him to check for any injuries. Besides a slightly singed beard, you handed him a small patch that used biotic technology.

“But reckless. Really reckless.”

“Been livin’ life that way,” he groaned.

“I go with a plan, but I never promise they’d work out perfectly.”

A small beep came from your watch. A hologram was pulled up between you and McCree, and you cursed under your breath. The reinforcements that you had called before your fight had gotten in a scuffle with another gang, and they were just about to reach the scene. While you were glad to get help to rally up the Valley Marauders, McCree would get taken in the moment he would be spotted.

You looked at the fence, and then an idea came.

“Roll off the hill.”

McCree froze just as he was placing the patch you had given him.

“Roll off the hill?” he repeated, looking over the slope.

“Go.”

“Are you shitting me—”

“It’s sloped. Do you trust me?”

McCree slapped his knee with a sarcastic bark, “Don’t you pull that bull—”

“I will kick you off and hope a combat roll is automatic, cowboy,” you commanded.

“Now, do you trust me?”

McCree glanced at you, then at the thirty foot slope awaiting him after the wooden fence.

“… Looks like I got no call in this, sher—”

You swiftly kicked a part of the old fence down, and the wood that rolled off the hill did little to help the situation. McCree is given no time to comprehend what was happened as you grabbed him by his arm, pulled him to the edge, and pushed him.

“Sorry!”

The first two seconds brought more pain to his behind as he hit a few rocks, but McCree willed his body to get into a combat roll as his armor and serape helped against more debris. He skidded down the remaining slope and into the grassy meadow just as he regained balance. Years of being on the run definitely helped, but even then your idea had been uncalled for.

McCree watched as the dust cleared from his trip down the slope. From the top, he could hear the roaring of motorcycle and car engines, boots stomping over the dirt, and your voice barking out orders to deal with what the gang had done. He narrowly missed a few cops that looked over the cliff by rolling into a crevasse of a neighboring hill.

He watched as you stood by the cliff, pointing to the general direction of where he was. For a second, McCree thought you had ratted him out, but after a moment your officers went back to the direction of the town. Just as a few minutes pass, he heard car doors close and the motorcycles speeding away. You still stood by the cliff, and McCree poked his head out just enough for you to see him. With a wave, you skidded down the slope just as he did, albeit a lot more gracefully.

“What’d you tell them?” he asked, walking to you as you dusted yourself off.

“Had them round up the gang,” you explained.

“Apparently someone got word of us meetin’. Told them you got a hit on me and fled.”

“Damn, that’d look good on my resume, wouldn’t it? ‘Escaped the snake sheriff of Amarillo who can can shoot twenty men with a rattlesnake revolver and ride a badass Adder motorcycle’. How the hell did you do that?”

McCree paused as you snorted.

“And you didn’t tell me you were the sheriff! Highest ranking officer of the county! Good lord, where are all your badges?”

At this point you were doubled over, laughing at how McCree was fussing over not addressing you properly—it was cute. He crossed his arms over his chest with a pout, but a small smile came upon his face to see that even after what had happened, you were doing well. You wouldn’t show it, but he was sure that seeing your people in danger had shaken you up.

“About badges, I don’t wear ‘em ‘til I have to. The amount’s too heavy,” you shrugged. To this, McCree sighed.

“And about my shootin’?”

You hummed.

“Let’s just say Rattlesnake doesn’t use normal bullets.”

McCree was about to comment on that line, but he figured that was a whole conversation for another time.

“Now that the fun’s over,” you said, kicking the dirt below you.

“What’re ya gonna do now?”

The realization hit him like a bullet; he was heading back to Gibraltar tomorrow morning. McCree would be picked up by Lena at a town just north of Amarillo, and as much as he wanted to lengthen his stay, he already had a mission waiting for him when he got back. A few days definitely wasn’t enough, but what could he do?

“My trip ends tomorrow, so I gotta pack up,” McCree said, looking down to fiddle with the end of his serape.

“How ‘bout you?”

You pressed your watch, and soon there’s the loud engine of your bike from the distance.

The both of you stood in comfortable silence, neither of you wanting speaking up as you were in each other’s company. When McCree glanced at you, you were looking at him. A faint smile was on your face, but your eyes showed how you felt the same about each other’s departure.

“You’ve done an awful lot for lil ol’ me,” McCree spoke up, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said, I know a good heart,” you said.

McCree lent out a hand for you to shake, but just as you took it, you pulled him in for a hug. He’s taken aback for a moment, but he eased into the embrace, lingering a little longer than intended.

Now, he really wished he could stay.

“Besides,” you added, pulling away for him to see a grin on your face.

“I also know a good-lookin’ guy when I see one.”

The bike arrived. McCree stood by as you mounted it, subtly mentioning about how he would love to ride it sometime, to which you give him a shrug and a “maybe” to his request. The two of you shared one more laugh together, clearly trying to stall for a bit more time.

"Y'know,” he piped up just as you revved the engine.

“If we knew each other back in th' day, possibly back at th' shootin’ range, I have a good feelin’ that we’d be great partners.”

You tipped your hat at him, and McCree returned the gesture.

“Who says we can’t be?

McCree grinned.

“See ya soon.”

“I’m sure ya will.”

#overwatch x reader #overwatch imagines #overwatch oneshot #overwatch #mccree x reader #mccree #jesse mccree #daybreak.doc

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livvywrites · 5 years ago

Text

life’s not fair

so i had a bad dream last night/this morning, and i needed to get it out somehow. so i wrote a fic about it. im not putting this in the tags, im not sticking my taglist on it, and im putting all of it under the cut.

this is okay to reblog, comment on, etc. but it’s only been half-assed edited & not beta’d at all, so please forgive any mistakes.

warnings for: unhappy ending & references to emotional abuse (?)

It was the happiest day of her life.

The dead, rising from their graves—hale and healthy and new again. Alexis didn’t understand the process behind it… she just knew she was going to see her mother again.

The wait was akin to torture. Her heart pounded at her breastbone; her skin was clammy; her mouth dry. She was too hot and too cold all at once. Excitement ran up and down her spine like miniature lightning bolts.

The car pulled up.

Alexis stood, heart on her tongue, watching the passenger side door.

It swung open. The sun glinted off of it, blinding her.

It slammed shut… and there she was.

Three years had passed, but her mother looked the same as she had the last day Alexis had seen her. She moved before she realized she was doing it. Her mother’s arms opened and she sank into them. Home, for the first time in three years.

She could have stayed there forever… until she heard the crunch of gravel.

She pulled away, turning to see which of her uncle’s had gotten here first… only to see a very familiar black, two-door Toyota.

She scowled. "What’s he doing here?"

"I invited him," her mother said, rubbing her back lightly.

Alexis turned, shock on her face. "Seriously?! How could you—" She stopped. "You don’t know." She hadn’t been there. It had happened after. A little over a year after, actually.

"Don’t know what?"

She glared at him, where he was striding over. "What he did to me."

She woke up cold.

That wasn’t unusual. Not for early January, and certainly not for someone who kept the thermostat at 60F or below.

She stretched, bending her toes outward, feeling the gentle pull of her muscles and joints. She eased out of the stretch, rolled over, and grabbed her phone.

3PM. Not bad, given that she had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning. She unplugged it from her charger and unlocked the phone, intent on resuming the story she’d left off from last night.

Until she caught a glimpse of her signal.

Ugh. Wi-Fi is out again. She rolled her eyes. It went out all of the time—that was what happened when you lived 100 feet further from the pole than they typically recommended.

She rolled out of bed, abandoning her blanket in a heap and made her way to the office.

As soon as she entered the living room, she could tell that something was off. The lights from beneath the Master Bedroom door and the office door were too bright. Both rooms had room darkening curtains—there shouldn’t have been so much light coming in. Ed definitely wouldn’t have opened the curtains.

Of course, one of the cats could have ripped them down. They liked climbing up them. She wouldn’t be surprised if the weight had finally been too much.

With a yawn, she opened the office door… only to stop dead in her tracks.

The curtains were gone. Not piled into a heap on the floor, just… gone. So was Ed’s second TV. And his big-ass recliner. And the hermit crab cage.

And the router.

She turned, opened the bedroom door.

Gone were the dressers, the shelves. Gone was the king size bed (which wasn’t even his!). Gone was his big-ass TV, his gaming system, his games, his massive collection of DVD’s. Gone was everything but a pile of old shoes and a couple of boxes.

Alexis’s eyes stung. Her face was hot. It felt like boiling water was sliding down her face.

She fumbled for her phone. Called him. Once. Twice. Three times. Each went to voicemail.

One of the cats start winding down her legs. She opened up her message app. Texted him. Waited. Waited. Waited.

No response.

Maybe he went back to live with his mother. Alexis found her number. Dialed. It rang. Rang. Went to voicemail.

Blip.

A text message. Not from Ed, from his mom.

Ella: In a conference. What did you need?

Me: Did Ed move back in with you? I woke up and all of his stuff was gone.

Ella: He didn’t say anything to me about that.

Panic, panic, panic.

Me: Please text me back. I’m getting really worried. If you’re not coming back, just tell me.

Google. Pizza place he worked at. Grab the number, call.

Finally, someone answers. Ask to talk to him. He won’t come.

Hang up.

Blip.

Ed: Sorry. I just can’t live there anymore.

It was what she expected. It still hurts. She’s sitting now. Cat won’t stop trying to rub on her face, knead on her leg. She hugs him for a moment, burying her face in his fur. He wiggles away, goes to look out the window again.

She picks her phone up. Dials another number.

"Grandma. Ed’s gone."

He’s made it over now, frowning as she told her tale. His arm is around her mother—it was more than he’d ever given her before she died. For all that he acted like they were together, he rarely ever touched her.

Alexis had told her mom to leave him before. If he wasn’t ready to be all in, but wanted to live in their house; sleep in their bed; mooch off their food, then he didn’t deserve any of that. He was a freeloader.

She’d been thankful for him after, though. Sure, he never gave her the mail and caused her to lose her disability; stole $600 off of her debit card and never paid it back; bitched about the house not being clean but never lifted a finger to help; brought home a cat after she told him no and then refused to help take care of it. But his presence had meant she didn’t have to leave the house, and she was grateful for that. Grateful enough that she put up with him, anyway.

And then he’d left, and hadn’t even given her a chance to prepare, to figure out what to do with the house, with her stuff, hadn’t given them time to prepare a space for her at her grandma’s. Just packed his shit up and bought a house without telling anyone.

It was infuriating.

Her mother listened, and Alexis knew, knew that she would understand—knew that she would see what an asshole he’d been, would be so disappointed in him.

"I’m sorry, Alexis," her mother said. She had always apologized for things that weren’t her fault. "He should have handled that better. But you can’t blame him for being overwhelmed. He’s never had to take care of a whole house before, or be responsible for someone else."

Alexis’s jaw dropped.

"And he knew you had your grandparents, that they would take you in."

No, no, no.

Alexis’s chest felt tight. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. That wasn’t what her mom was supposed to say. She was supposed to understand, not defend him.

Why did everyone always defend him?

She was crying again, elbows on the breakfast table, face buried in her hands. Her grandma pulled her into a hug, the side of her face pressed against her stomach.

"He just didn’t know how to take on all of that," her grandma said. "He’s not used to having to take care of anyone other than himself. Or paying all the bills himself."

"So?! He still could have told me."

"You’re here now," her granddad reminded. He’d been wanting her to move in since her mother died.

Bad things happened for good reasons, sometimes, Alexis reminded herself. It didn’t stop her from being angry. So what if she was there now? She should have been given a chance to prepare!

But he never did that. Never. On the one year anniversary, he’d driven them up to her grandma’s and just left her there, without telling her until five minutes before they left.

Because he didn’t want to deal with her being upset.

Because he was the only one who was hurting. The only one who might want to be in the house. He was a stupid, selfish—

"He took the coward’s way out," Alexis spat. "He’s supposed to be an adult but he acts like a child. And all of you let him get away with it!"

"Ed texted me today," Alexis said sourly.

Ed: Hope you’re doing okay. Found someone to take Gigi. By the way, I met someone.

What the hell was she supposed to say to that? Why the hell was he telling her that? Was she supposed to be happy that he’d moved on from her mother?

No—she knew why he was telling her that.

He wanted her to tell him that it was good, it was okay. He wanted her to alleviate his own guilt over leaving because he knew he did her wrong. And Alexis wasn’t going to give that to him.

"Oh, that was nice of him to tell you," her grandma said. "It’s good that he’s moving on."

Alexis had to focus on keeping her mouth shut, instead of letting it hang open like she wanted.

"I’ve been inviting him to the family get togethers," her grandma said. "I don’t want him to feel like we don’t want him around."

But we don’t. I don’t. "Are you serious? After what he did?" After what he put me through?

"He just wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility," her grandma said.

"You know if he had come I would have locked myself in my room the whole time, right?" Alexis snapped.

"I knew he wasn’t going to come."

But he could have. And what would you have done if he showed up, and I hid myself away? Would you have accused me of being childish, or would you have sent him away?

Would you have picked me… or him?

Alexis didn’t want to know the answer.

"Okay, what about what he did to Abigail?" Alexis crossed her arms. If what he did to her didn’t matter, maybe what he did to the middle child would.

"He made her feel unwelcome in her own home, so much that she stopped coming over," Alexis said. And then told me I wasn’t doing enough. Said I could make an effort to visit her, instead of her always having to visit me. Never mind that our dad is an asshole. Never mind the way he treated me was worse than the way Ed treated any of us.

"Abby’s always blowing things out of porportion," her mother said. Which was true. She took things worse than they were meant. It was a side effect of living with their father and his wife.

"He also fired her," Alexis snapped. "She went with her boyfriend to an important doctors appointment. She asked for the day off but was scheduled anyway. And when she called and said she was gonna be half an hour, an hour late—he told her not to bother coming in. Never mind that she hadn’t missed any days."

Her mom turned accusing eyes on Ed, but he said, "She got an attitude with me! Like every time she was on shift."

Her mom shook her head.

Alexis wouldn’t doubt it. Her sister had a temper and she didn’t always watch the way things came out of her mouth. But he was the same way. He snapped at her for doing things all the time, or pushed too far in teasing her and got upset when she snapped at him.

Alexis’s fists clenched. "You know what, fine. Fine. You wanna be with him, fine. But I’m not having any part of it. I’m staying here." She gestured to her grandparents house. "And if you wanna visit, leave him behind."

Her mother was supposed to understand. But she didn’t. None of them did. They smiled and said she had her grandparents, that she was fine, that she would be better off with them anyway. None of them understood, or maybe they just didn’t care, how that made her feel. Like she didn’t have the right to be upset. That her feelings didn’t matter. She was just supposed to pick up and move on with her life and that wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that he got to treat her the way he had, that he got to shut her and her siblings out for a year, two years, and waltz back in now. It wasn’t fair that she was expected to be happy for him. It wasn’t fair that he got to pick up and leave without a word goodbye and she was supposed to let that go. It wasn’t fair that when she called him an asshole and refused to talk to him that she was accused of being childish, or petty.

It wasn’t fair.

She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to constantly doubt if she was allowed to be upset, to be angry, because no one would let her be. Because no one wanted to deal with it.

Because no one wanted to deal with her.

And that… wasn’t fair.

#my writing #lifes not fair #personal #about me #if its not clear #im alexis #& this is heavily based on a true story #except for the raising of the dead bit ofc

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overimaginings-moved · 6 years ago

Text

Rattlesnakes and Peacekeepers (McCree x Reader)

Word Count: 6.2k+ Reader is gender-neutral. Trigger warnings: Snakes, Minor violence Crossposted on: Ao3

- - - - -

If something did happen, it’s usually just out of it.

The only rule: always shoot something, never someone.

That was twenty years ago.

So there he was, on the last day of his short break, standing under the canopy of the abandoned farmhouse.

He leaned on the porch fence, careful not to put too much weight and cause more damage. If the buildings creaked just by the desert wind, what more by him?

A number of bottles were on the fences, so McCree raised Peacekeeper for a casual shot.

Kling!

…

That wasn’t his bullet.

The cowboy took a shot to the can next to yours.

McCree was quick to raise his hands up when you point your gun at him.

“I don’t mean t’cause any harm!” McCree called out. Even in the long distance, anyone in Route 66 could easily shoot a man between the eyes (example: himself).

“State your name and business,” you demanded.

“The name’s Jesse McCree.”

“Just ‘ere t’enjoy the Miller’s shootin’ range like anyone else, deputy.”

After what felt like an eternity, McCree sighed as you returned your gun to your holster.

“What’s an officer of the law doin’ ‘round the dusty outskirts of Route 66?” he asked, blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Shootin’,” you answered simply.

You gave him a look over.

“What’s an ex-Deadlock gang member turned covert-operative Overwatch agent doin’ round ‘ere?”

McCree choked on the cigar for a second.

“... shootin’.”

Silence passed.

“Well, there’s some more bottles n’ caps by th’ back of th’ house,” you chirped, brushing past him.

“I’ll fetch ‘em for ya. I’d like t’see that infamous aim of yours.”

He whipped around to see you heading to the back of the farm house, and he rushed to get to you.

“Now wait a gosh darn second, how’d you—“

”It’s either we shoot glasses as equals, or I’m interrogating you as an officer of the law,” you cut him off, facing him just as he was about to reach for you.

You looked at his hand, and at your glance he took hold of the handle.

“Nothing goes past Rattlesnake,” you threatened, hand patting the holster of your gun.

“And if I was on my shift you’d be behind bars by now.”

“But I’m not,” you shrugged.

“Besides, it’d be disrespectful t’go against the one rule on this old range. You know that rule?”

“Shoot something, never someone.”

“If I’m not back by th’ time you’re done, just go ahead. I might be findin’ somethin’ a lil’ more interestin’ than bottles.”

As you turned away to do your task, McCree thanked the heavens that the rules of the shooting range haven’t changed after all those years.

>>>

Not that he minded anyway.

“Haven’t gotten your name, deputy,” McCree called over a shot.

“Can’t keep callin’ ya that now, can I?”

He heard a snort from beside him.

“You can and you will if you want to keep th’ hat from a bullet,” you replied mischievously, flashing him a grin.

McCree placed a hand on his hat protectively, making you holler.

“(Y/N) (L/N). Heard the last name before?” you asked.

“Sorta rings a bell,” he replied.

“Am I supposed t’know?”

You feigned hurt, and McCree rolled his eyes as he reloaded his gun.

McCree smiled at your confidence.

“Is that why your gun’s called Rattlesnake?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Sorta? A good gunsmith buddy of mine made her for me. I didn’t even ask ‘im t’design her like this, but he did, and I loved it.”

“Mind if I take a closer look?”

He was half-expecting you to say no to him, since there were unspoken rules about handling fellow gunslingers’ guns, but McCree was shocked when you gestured the gun towards him.

“I’ll let you see her if you show me yours.”

He obliged, handing you Peacekeeper.

“Careful, she bites,” you joked as you watched him gawk over the amount of work on the gun.

“She’s a beauty,” he whistled.

“I have to say the same for yours,” you spoke. McCree watched as you held his gun, the same look of wonder and curiosity on your face.

“Name?”

“Peacekeeper.”

“That’s a lil’ ironic considering your work.”

McCree shrugged.

“You have a gun named after one of th’ most venomous snakes in New Mexico, and you’re an officer of th’ law. I’d say that’s ironic.”

You both shared a laugh.

“Let’s get out of th’ heat,” you offered, lightly tugging him by the serape to lead him back to the house.

“I apologize for prying too much,” you said sheepishly.

“Comes with years of interrogatin’ folks.”

“A trade-off, really,” you said sadly.

“Parents didn’t force me to do it either, but we needed more income. Snake wranglin’ can only give so much, and it really pays when something big is out there, which is rare.”

“What made you become an officer then?”

“Similarities. Instead of takin’ out poisonous snakes, I’m takin’ out poisonous people,” you answered, voice taking a more serious tone.

“So people are like snakes to you?” McCree asked.

“At the start of the job it looked that way, yeah, but after years under this hat, you learn how to decipher a person with a look or two.”

“Is that why you haven’t arrested me yet?”

“You’re an outlaw worth sixty million, McCree, but I know a man with a good heart when I see one,” you said as looked at him straight in the eyes.

“Snakes will shed their skin for the season, and people can leave behind their pasts for the future. I know you’re not the man you once were.”

The two of you became silent.

“The way you reference your advice to snakes is almost unhealthy,” McCree chuckled after a moment.

You were about to retort to his statement until you see the genuine grin on his face.

“But I’ll have you know that all your words mean a lot to me.”

Just as you were about to speak, something started beeping. McCree shot up in his seat in alarm, but he noticed a flashing light from a metal wristband you wore on your left.

You had that the whole time?

[ CALLING FROM: “THE HITCHING POST” SALOON, AMARILLO, NEW MEXICO ]

“Sheriff (Y/N) (L/N) speaking.”

Wait a minute, you were the sheriff? Not just a deputy?

“Sheriff!” a hurried voice called.

Gunshots were heard, and people were screaming from the other line. At this point you had gotten up, your face scrunched up in worry. McCree could only watch as your fists trembled.

“Officer, what’s goin—”

“It’s the Valley Marauders! T-They’re here again and we thought we could handle—”

CRASH!

“They just don’t learn their fuckin’ lesson,” you growled.

“I’ve sent more officers. Be there in five,” you answered through gritted teeth, clearly trying to stay calm for the sake of the victim.

“Please hurry—”

The line went dead.

“Hold on to that hat of yours.”

>>>

“Just like the movies,” McCree noted.

“You think we’re gonna have a Mexican standoff?”

Just as you were about to joke back, a stout man walked out from an alleyway and stood twenty feet away at the middle of the road opposite of the both of you.

“I was thinkin’ you were never gonna show up, sheriff!” the man grinned, raising dual revolvers up in the air.

“Not I would mind! It’s ‘bout time you ran with your tail between your legs.”

“What do you want, Danford?” you growled.

“That’s Two-Shootin’ Sherrock to you, (L/N),” he hissed.

“Dual-wielding devil! Gang leader of the Valley Marauders! And you best be rememberin’ it when my bullet hits ya!”

“Hey now, since when did anyone give you the permission to make that call?” Mccree said, taking a step forward.

“If anythin’, you’re the one who’s gonna be takin’ a bullet from the sheriff's gun.”

The man’s eyes widened before narrowing, his grin becoming even wider.

“Well,” he dawled, “if it ain’t Jesse McCree.”

“I’m surprised you’re with the sheriff! Aren’cha just as bad as us?”

McCree glanced at you, then back at Danford.

“I’m not bad, not good… but I sure as hell ain’t ugly.”

“I’m guessin’ that’s bad.”

“No shit, cowboy.”

“What’re ya gonna do, sheriff?” Danford called from the other side.

You hissed, and McCree had to do a double-take to make sure you actually did that.

“What did you do to the people?”

The gang leader laughed before snapping his fingers.

“This lil’ guy,” Danford gestured, propping the officer’s chin up with the end of his gun. At the sight of discomfort, McCree tightened his grip as you pulled.

“He called you, yeah? Well, we didn’t like that, so we taught ‘im a lesson. And honestly? You gotta get better men! They’re all cozy over by the back of the saloon.”

“Put the gun down!” you yelled.

“How sweet,” the gang member who had pointed the gun at you smiled mockingly.

“Is the outlaw your boyfriend now? How would that look on your reputation, sheriff?”

McCree couldn’t see your expression.

“I swear to the all the gods, Jesse,” you murmured just enough from him to hear, “release me.”

“No can do, sheriff,” he replied.

“Bad things come out of people without a plan.”

A face came to McCree’s mind, but the memory was suppressed.

“I didn’t want to use this,” you sighed, grip tightening on your revolver. McCree could feel heat building up from the side where you held your gun.

“At my call, I need you to get down.”

“Now!”

BANG!

Silence followed

What in tarnation—

“Argh!”

“What? Did’ya think that only guys like you had all the flashy shit?”

Once all the bodies hit the ground, McCree handed you your hat as you pulled him up. The leader was quaking. The two gang members who had brought in your officer had fled the scene, leaving Danford to hold up the unconscious man by the scruff of his uniform. He was shaking so much McCree was convinced he’d turn himself in, but when the gun is pointed to the head of the unconscious man, McCree just knew the guy was stubborn.

“Now, y’know I don’t like repeatin’ myself,” you spoke you walked forward. McCree’s gun was pointed straight at the man.

“STAY BACK!” Danford yelled, pushing the tip of the gun into a wound, making the officer wince.

McCree sucked in a breath.

“Come on now, Sherrock, no need to get all riled up.”

You and the gang leader looked at him incredulously.

“What?” you seethed.

McCree pointed his gun to you, and you held your hands up. You had no more bullets to shoot.

“Put the man over to the side, and I won’t let the sheriff get t’ ya.”

“McCree, what—”

“Gun down, (L/N).”

Sneaky.

“Now partner,” Danford said, patting McCree by the shoulder while grinning mockingly at you.

“What do you think we should do ‘bout the deputy? I say we should beat ‘em! It’s two against one!”

You ran up to help him, but you weren’t fast enough as he staggered back, lost his footing, and fell on his behind.

“You’re smart,” you said to him with a smile, kneeling beside him to check for any injuries. Besides a slightly singed beard, you handed him a small patch that used biotic technology.

“But reckless. Really reckless.”

“Been livin’ life that way,” he groaned.

“I go with a plan, but I never promise they’d work out perfectly.”

You looked at the fence, and then an idea came.

“Roll off the hill.”

McCree froze just as he was placing the patch you had given him.

“Roll off the hill?” he repeated, looking over the slope.

“Go.”

“Are you shitting me—”

“It’s sloped. Do you trust me?”

McCree slapped his knee with a sarcastic bark, “Don’t you pull that bull—”

“I will kick you off and hope a combat roll is automatic, cowboy,” you commanded.

“Now, do you trust me?”

McCree glanced at you, then at the thirty foot slope awaiting him after the wooden fence.

“… Looks like I got no call in this, sher—”

“Sorry!”

“What’d you tell them?” he asked, walking to you as you dusted yourself off.

“Had them round up the gang,” you explained.

“Apparently someone got word of us meetin’. Told them you got a hit on me and fled.”

McCree paused as you snorted.

“And you didn’t tell me you were the sheriff! Highest ranking officer of the county! Good lord, where are all your badges?”

“About badges, I don’t wear ‘em ‘til I have to. The amount’s too heavy,” you shrugged. To this, McCree sighed.

“And about my shootin’?”

You hummed.

“Let’s just say Rattlesnake doesn’t use normal bullets.”

McCree was about to comment on that line, but he figured that was a whole conversation for another time.

“Now that the fun’s over,” you said, kicking the dirt below you.

“What’re ya gonna do now?”

“My trip ends tomorrow, so I gotta pack up,” McCree said, looking down to fiddle with the end of his serape.

“How ‘bout you?”

You pressed your watch, and soon there’s the loud engine of the your bike from the distance.

“You’ve done an awful lot for lil ol’ me,” McCree spoke up, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said, I know a good heart,” you said.

McCree lent out a hand for you to shake, but just as you took it, you pulled him in for a hug. He’s taken aback for a moment, but he eased into the embrace, lingering a little longer than intended.

Now, he really wished he could stay.

“Besides,” you added, pulling away for him to see a grin on your face.

“I also know a good-lookin’ guy when I see one.”

“Y’know,” he piped up just as you revved the engine.

“If we knew each other back in th’ day, possibly back at th’ shootin’ range, I have a good feelin’ that we’d be great partners.”

You tipped your hat at him, and McCree returned the gesture.

“Who says we can’t be?

McCree grinned.

“See ya soon.”

“I’m sure ya will.”

- - - - -

[ RULES | TAGS | MASTERLIST ]

#jesse mccree x reader #jesse mccree #overwatch oneshots #overwatch x reader #overwatch #sfw #overimgns.docx #god this took a lot longer than i expected #and it ended up being twice as long as i planned #but hey look at that 6k???#that's the longest i've written for a oneshot so far

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killingmebtob · 6 years ago

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Someday Soon ; 1. The Parting // Im Hyunsik

Author: @killingmebtob // Gen

Title: Someday ; 1. The Parting

Characters: Hyunsik and Reader

Summary: Are they fated?

Author’s Note: A request from our Twitter dm! Twisted quite a lot but hope it’s still fine~

---

Your name: submit What is this?

---

Closing my luggage, I let out a sigh. Three days later, I’ll be on the way home, back to reality. Letting my body to sink into the bed as I sat, I glanced around the room to remember the remaining things to pack when it was time. And my mind couldn’t help but wandered to him. Him who I only know his name, him who got me all shy and losing the courage to walk up to him, him who I knew was looking out for me as well.

Maybe I could write a letter? My mind asked. Yeah, maybe. Should I?

Getting up, I went towards my study table and took out a piece of writing paper. I stared into the empty wall in front of me as I gathered the words I felt was appropriately right to convey my thoughts and feelings.

My last lesson in this foreign school, that given me the best three months of my life. And he was in the same lesson. He came in late, and the last seat was the one next to mine. My heart skipped a beat at the fact that he would end up sitting with me, and he really did.

“Hey,” he greeted me softly. I gave him a full smile before trying my best to concentrate, but for goodness sake, how can I?

Our tables were connected, his cologne filled up the air particles that surrounded us, causing me to drown in his scent. As the scenes of my time spent with him flashed past my mind, I couldn’t help but to smile at those pretty memories.

“So you’re the exchange student?” He asked carefully. I nodded my head, trying hard not to roll my eyes at his dumb question.

“I’m Hyunsik, the class president.” He extended his hand, and I eyed it before sliding mine into his.

“Y/N.” I smiled, and he gave me one back.

Our conversation was cut short when the first professor came in. Our seats were pretty far apart and his was at the back while I got one of the front seats. But somehow, I felt that his gaze was on me the whole time. Shaking the feeling away, I tried to concentrate on the lesson.

As I packed my bags to leave this lesson, I felt someone standing right next to my table. Glancing up, it was him again.

“I was wondering if you need help in anything?”

And I couldn’t dislike him further, his sweet consideration melted me as he took the initiative to help. But I felt bad if I were to disturb him. So I shook my head, declining his intention.

“It’s fine, I can cope myself.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” His deep voice brought me back to reality. My hand snapped towards him with a questioning expression, but nodded anyway though it didn’t sound like a question.

“Three months sure went by fast.” He added, earning an agreement chuckle from me. I pushed my hair behind my ear, “it really is.”

“Are you - are you free after this class?” He asked.

“I need to do some last minute packing, I’m afraid not.” I replied, and a ghost of disappointment flashed across his face but I chose to ignore.

“Can I just have you for five minutes? It’ll be fast.” And I found myself agreeing.

“Are you sure we can be here?” I asked carefully as Hyunsik led the way to the music rooms. Since my first day here, all the professors warned us that usage of these music rooms are not allowed without any professors around, no matter if we’re music students or not.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” He reassured me, but it didn’t help at all.

He stopped in front of a room and looked around before pulling a bunch of keys out. I gasped, realizing it was the keys for all the music rooms. “How did you -”

“I have my ways,” he threw me a wink before the door was opened. He turned the lights on and the instruments in the room could now be seen. He walked towards the guitars and picked one up, before settling on a chair. I joined him, resting on the chair next to his. He tested the guitar before officially beginning a proper song. But it didn’t seem like a song that I’ve heard before.

“I know I should’ve said so earlier

About the feelings I had for you

For I was scared and afraid

That you don’t feel the same

But I decided to give myself a chance

Doesn’t matter what happens in the end

I just want to say

I like you for who you are

Wordlessly and afraid, I let you go

But losing you is killing me inside

So I put my unsaid words in a song;

Thank you for being my unrequited first love

I hope we will meet again someday”

He strummed the last chord before glancing up at me. Our eyes met, his eyes filled with all emotions; anticipation, nervousness, worrisome. We stared into each other, letting our gazes speak for us. The unspoken words were clear and obvious. Only the sounds of our breathing filled the room, no one dared to move a muscle. Until the slamming open of the door interrupted our moment.

“Hey, what are you two doing here!” A professor’s voice boomed into the small compartment. Our eyes snapped towards the door, panicking, he dropped the guitar onto the floor before grabbing my wrist and headed out, running.

After realizing that the professor had no intention to catch us, we stopped on our track, catching our breath. His hand was still wrapped around my wrist, seemingly no intention to release it. I decided to just enjoy the feeling of his warm skin against mine.

“We’ll be alright, right?” I asked, glancing at the corridor we ran from.

“If anything happens, I’ll just say it’s me. You’re not around to carry the blame anyway.” He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his bare hand. He then realized his grip on my hand, letting out an awkward laugh as he scratched the back of his head.

“I.. I have to go,” I broke the silence that sat around us. His eyes gazed into mine, filled with emotions I couldn’t tell. My hands landed on my sling bag, debating with myself if I should pass him the letter. I would be lying if I wasn’t happy that he actually feels the same way about me, but we both know what was going to happen at the end.

“Yeah, you should go.” He whispered, his eyes tearing away from mine to stare into the distance. I took a step back, getting ready to leave with my heavy heart. But my debate ended with a conclusion; I reached into my bag, pulling his hand, his palm facing up. I pushed the letter into his hand, feeling my hand trembling as I did so. A confused expression flashed past his face as he eyed my every action. I looked back up at him with a tight smile. “We will meet each other someday soon.”

#btob imagines #kpop fluff #hyunsik imagines #btob #im hyunsik #kpop imagines #hyunsik scenarios #im hyunsik imagines #im hyunsik scenarios #someday soon mini series

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bexlynne · 7 years ago

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Drivin’ Me Crazy Part Two

(A/N): This is the end of this story, but I have some more I’ll probably be posting soon! Thank you to everyone who’s given me feedback on this story, you’re so sweet and you made my day yesterday. :) Let me know if you want to be tagged in future stories!

Jack glanced at his watch for the twentieth time. Forty-five minutes. I can get through forty-five minutes. That's just fifteen minutes, three times. I can do this.

"...and an order of mashed potatoes on the side," the customer finished.

Jack snapped back to the present. "Uh, sorry, could ya repeat that?" he said sheepishly.

The man looked annoyed. "Again?"

"Sorry 'bout that," Jack said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I'll get it this time, I promise."

Get it togetha', Kelly. Race ain't talkin' ta ya, so what? Quit worryin' about it and do your job.

"What's with you today, Kelly?" Jacobi asked as Jack brought the order back to the kitchen.

Jack kicked at the ground. "Problems with the boys," he admitted.

"Ah." The man nodded in understanding. "Well, try not ta let it affect your work, alright?"

"Yeah, I know," Jack said, scratching the back of his neck absently. "Mr. Jacobi, you'se got kids, right? Can I ask your advice on somethin'?"

"Sure," the man said. "As long as you ask it in the next..." He leaned back from the grill, checking the clock on the wall. "...thirty seconds, before table four's order is ready."

"So yesta'day I took Race's car keys--" Jack was cut off by his phone ringing. He froze when he saw the caller ID. Race. His boys knew better than to call him at work... unless it was an emergency. "Sorry boss, gotta take this," he said, his heart already beating out of his chest. He flipped open his phone. "Race? What's goin' on?"

"Jack?" a small voice said.

"Romeo?" the seventeen-year-old said, slightly confused. "Is everythin' okay? Where's Race?" The younger boy let out sob, and Jack felt his blood run cold. "Rome, what's goin' on?" he said, forcing himself to remain calm. "Are ya okay? Talk ta me, kid."

"Race crashed the car," Romeo choked out. "Jack, I'm scared! Race yelled, he said ta get outta the car quick--"

"Are ya okay?" Jack interrupted, dreading the answer.

"I... I think so," Romeo said hesitantly.

"Where's Race, is he hurt?" Jack asked next, starting to pace back and forth.

"I don't know," Romeo sniffled. "He's helpin' Crutchie."

Crutchie. No, no, no, he's got Crutchie. As soon as I know Race ain't hurt, I'se gonna strangle him. "I'm on my way," he told his brother, trying to sound reassuring. "Where are ya?"

"The roller coaster hills," Romeo answered. "Jack--" The line went dead.

Jack cursed under his breath. "I gotta go," he called to his boss, throwing his apron at a peg on the wall. He didn't wait to see where it landed. "Family emergency!"

Jack drummed his fingers against the steering wheel anxiously, glancing at the time. What's takin' so long? Just my luck I get stuck at the longest red light in 'Hattan... The light turned to green, and he sped off without a second thought. Romeo's panicked voice kept playing over in his head. What would it take ta make that kid scared like that? Did somethin' happen ta Race? No, he said Race was helpin' Crutchie... Wait, what happened ta Crutchie? Romeo said he ain't hurt, he didn't say nothin' 'bout the otha' two. The car crashed, anythin' coulda happened. They could be dead. Please, God, don't let them be dead.

Glancing at the speedometer, Jack pressed harder on the gas. Three minutes. It's been three minutes. So much can happen in three minutes. Images flashed through his head, one after the other. One or more of his brothers hurt, their bodies mangled in some horrible accident. Hospital bills he couldn't pay. The thought of losing one of them... How am I gonna tell the otha's? That one a' their brothers is dead? Jack shook his head, a sharp pain building in his chest as his breathing sped up. He couldn't get enough air. The car swerved dangerously as he choked back a sob, and then logic took over. Pulling over to the side of the road, Jack rested his forehead against the steering wheel. Breathe, Kelly. You got this. Nothin's happened yet. Get outta your head an' quit thinkin' the worst. Your boys need ya, and they'se gonna need ya ta be calm in case one of 'em's hurt. You got this.

Taking a deep breath, he started the car. He pushed it as fast as he dared, knowing at the back of his mind that he had just lectured Race for doing the same thing. Race could be hurt. Race was in an accident, and our last conversation was a fight. It can't end like this. He's gotta be okay, he's just gotta! Crutchie, he's already been through so much. I'se listened ta that kid cry ta me 'cause he can't run an' play with the otha' boys, if somethin' happens ta him on top a' that bad leg I ain't neva' gonna forgive myself. Can't he just have a shot at a normal life? And Romeo... the kid's only twelve! He can't be hurt. There's so much he's still got ahead a' him. Kid ain't even in high school yet! All of 'em, they're just too... too young.

Jack forced himself to use caution as he rounded the next corner. Every fiber in his being screamed at him to go faster, but the last thing he wanted was to wind up in the ditch. Why'd Race hafta go an' choose this road? How am I gonna search 'round every curve for five miles? Hang in there, boys. Please, just hang in there...

Some kind of luck must have been on side, because just around the next bend he saw them. The were huddled together at the edge of the road, the two younger boys crowded in close to Race. None of them looked badly injured. Jack breathed a sigh of relief, feeling his fear start to ebb away. As he unbuckled his seat belt and threw open the door, he made brief eye contact with Race. The younger boy's eyes widened, and he looked away hurriedly. Jack immediately felt a surge of annoyance, but he pushed it back. C'mon, Kelly. Your boys need ya.

He bridged the gap between them in two seconds. As soon as he was in arm's reach of his brothers, Crutchie clung to him, burying his face in Jack's shirt. "Are ya okay?" Jack asked anxiously. His arms went around the gimp boy automatically as he turned toward Romeo. "Romeo, are ya okay?" The little boy nodded shakily. Satisfied with the answer, Jack pried himself out of Crutchie's grip. "Ya okay, Crutch?"

The blonde boy nodded, his face still pale. "I'm fine, Jack," he said.

Jack let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, hugging all three of his brothers tight. For a few moments, all he felt was a deep sense of peace. His brothers were okay. They were safe. But a nagging feeling at the back of his mind reminded him that this wasn't over yet.

"Racetrack, what the hell were you thinkin'?"

Race blanched. "Jack, I--"

Jack shook his head. "What'd I say, Race? I said not ta touch that wheel if I wasn't there!" One thing, Race, I told ya one thing! Why do ya hafta do this every-- single-- time?! "This is the worst thing ya coulda done, Race, and ya went ahead and did it!"

"Jack, I'm sorry!" Race squeaked.

"Sorry don't cut it anymore, Race!" Jack said, his voice shaking with frustration. "Crutchie and Romeo coulda died today! Didja even think of that, or were ya too busy showin' off?" Always. You'se always showin' off, and I'se the one stuck cleanin' up your mess! Ya went too far this time, Race. This time I could've lost you all. Jack took another deep breath, closing his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. He wouldn't cry. Not in front of his boys. Someone had to be strong, someone had to be the leader, and that someone had to be him. That was just the way things were.

"Get in the car," he instructed. "All of ya, get in the car." Crutchie succeeded in prying Romeo off of his older brother, and the two of them headed obediently to Jack's pickup. Race stayed where he was, so Jack walked away, pretending to examine the car as he tried to get a hold of himself. With shaking hands, he slid his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number he knew by heart.

Spot answered on the first ring. "Hey there, Jackie-boy," he said, sounding out of breath. "Ya miss me or somethin'? What's with --hey! Get down! What'd I just tell ya?-- what's with the phone call?"

"Hey, Spot," Jack said, smothering a grin in spite of himself. The Brooklyn lodging house was chaos most of the time, and a phone call with Spot was always entertaining. "I need a favor."

"You'se askin' me for help?" the Brooklyn boy said, amusement evident in his voice. "What's the occasion?" There was a loud crash in the background, but Spot ignored it. "Betta' make it fast, Jackie. I'se got about five minutes 'fore someone breaks a bone or loses an eye."

"Race wrecked his car," Jack said, getting straight to the point. "Could ya tow this mess back ta the lodgin' house?"

"The car me an' him slaved over?" Spot swore under his breath. "Why can't you do it? You'se gotta truck."

Jack glanced up at his boys. "I need some time," he said. "An' some space."

"Yeah, I get it," Spot said. "I'll be there in half an hour-- kid, whaddaya want? Look, that ain't my problem. Soak 'im and take it back. Maybe more like an hour," he added to Jack.

"Sounds great," Jack said truthfully. Honestly, that was the best news he'd had all day. "I don't know what ta tell ya as far as where we are. It's the freakin' middle a' nowhere--"

"I'll swing by your place," Spot said. "Race can show me where it's at. Try not ta kill the kid, Jackie."

Jack grinned wearily. "I'll try."

"Good," Spot said, apparently satisfied with the weak promise. "Look, I'se gotta go. Tricks is about ta set fire ta somethin', I think it might be one a' his brothers."

"Uh... good luck, I guess?" Jack said. Most conversations with Spot left him confused. As he hung up and started back to his truck, he noticed Race still standing by the roadside. So it's one a' those days, he realized. Any little thing I say, he's gonna do the opposite. Just what I need. "Spot's comin' ta tow the car," he informed his brother curtly. He motioned toward the truck. "Get in. I'se gotta help Crutchie."

He gave Crutchie the boost he needed to hop into the car, storing his metal crutch down by his and Romeo's feet. Checking that the younger two were safe, he slid into the driver's seat and waited for Race. The Italian shuffled his feet, taking his own sweet time getting into the vehicle, and Jack tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in annoyance. 'Kay. Race in his his seat and buckled in, Crutchie's safe, the crutch is taken care of, Romeo's all good. Everyone's good. Everyone's safe. Let's go.

Just as he turned the key in the ignition, a police car whipped around the corner, lights flashing furiously. Please don't stop, please don't stop-- The car parked next to what was left of Race's car and Jack groaned, banging his head against the headrest. Can this get any worse?

"It ain't my fault!" Romeo said suddenly. "Race said ta call for help!"

"I didn't say ta call the bulls!" Race retorted, glaring at the younger boy.

"Ya didn't say anythin'!" Romeo protested, his voice rising in pitch. "Ya just--"

"Quiet!" Jack thundered. "Shut up, all of ya. I'll be right back. None of ya move, ya hear me?"

Race muttered a response, and Romeo folded his arms over his chest, pouting and kicking the back of the seat. He stilled at a glare from Jack and and toyed with the edge of his shirt instead, avoiding eye contact. Jack sighed, readying himself to go talk to the police officers. "Sorry," he mouthed, making eye contact with Crutchie in the rearview mirror. The crippled boy shrugged wordlessly, making Jack feel even worse. Time ta face the music, he thought bitterly, getting out of the car.

That ten-foot walk was the longest Jack had ever faced, he was sure of it. A million thoughts ran through his head on the way. If these bulls know what Race's been doin' he'll go straight ta the Refuge for good. I can't let that happen. I can spin a sob story, lie my way out, take his place, beg if I hafta. I'se just gotta keep these bastards from gettin' their hands on him. The police car was parked on the side of the road, both front windows rolled down. He had never seen the driver before, but he recognized the man in the passenger seat. Officer Bixby had showed up at the front door of the lodging house some half a dozen times, always with at least one of the boys who had been caught doing something they shouldn't. He was a good guy, always making sure he got both sides of the story, stopping to say hello to Kloppman, wishing Jack good luck with the troublemakers. Yeah, but he's still a bull, Jack thought warily. And this is a lot worse than one a' my boys stayin' out too late or skippin' school. I can't expect him ta go easy on us this time. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. I know what I'se gotta do.

"Jack Kelly," Bixby greeted. "Fancy seeing you here."

Jack hitched one shoulder up in a kind of half-shrug. "Hey, Officer Bixby."

The man in the driver's seat raised an eyebrow. "You know this kid, Bixby?"

"Oh, Jack and his brothers are old friends of mine," Bixby said lightly. "How many ya got now, twenty?"

"Sixteen," Jack said, shifting uncomfortably under the other officer's gaze.

Bixby nodded to the wreck in the ditch. "One of them do that?"

"Nah." Jack rubbed the back of his neck, managing a rueful smile. "This one's on me."

The man didn't bother to hide his surprise. "You? I wouldn't know you to be so careless, Jack."

Jack dropped his gaze to his feet, kicking absently at the ground. "I took my eyes off the road for just a second, I swear, ta talk to Romeo in the back. He was kickin' my seat-- y'know how kids are."

"Kids?" the other officer snorted. "You're a kid yourself."

Jack merely shrugged, biting back the retort he wanted to throw at the man. Who's he callin' a kid?

Bixby took off his sunglasses and tossed them on the dashboard, reaching for the door handle. "Let's talk, Jack," he said, coming around the front of the car. Jack felt heat rise up in his face, and he crossed his arms over his torso, intent on studying his shoes. "Why were you driving Race's car?"

"He just got his permit, y'know," Jack said. "We was practicin' on this road for a bit, and when we decided ta head home I switched with him. He ain't that great at parkin' yet, and I didn't want him messin' up our driveway or plowin' through the house or nothin' like that. I had Race chatterin' away on one side a' me, and Romeo kickin' my seat in back, an' I slipped up."

"Uh huh," Bixby said, raising his eyebrows. "And how did your truck get here?"

"That's kinda a long story," Jack said, stalling for time.

The man in the driver's seat snorted, and Bixby shot him a glare. "Shut up, Bolger. Try me," he added to Jack.

"Well, ya see..." Jack said. "I landed Race's car in the ditch, right? Me and Race are helpin' Crutchie out, and I hand Romeo my phone and tell him to call help. I mean for him ta call Kloppman. I had no idea he called the bulls, not 'til you'se showed up. No offense," he added hastily. "We get back ta the lodgin' house, and I get my truck ta come tow Race's car home. The younga' ones were kinda shaken up, wouldn't let go a' me, so I brought 'em with. We'se had just pulled up when you guys joined us."

Bixby turned back to the car. "What do you think?" he asked his partner.

Bolger shook his head. "Kloppman, Crutchie, lodging house..." he said. "I don't know half of what this kid's saying."

Bixby rolled his eyes. "Kloppman is the boys' foster father," he said. "The lodging house is what they call their group home. And most of the boys there have nicknames they go by. But what do you think?"

"I dunno," Bolger said, scratching his chin. "I see the possibility of a ticket here, for reckless driving. And the fact that he's in foster care changes the whole situation. We really should bring Warden Snyder into this, as much as I hate the guy."

Jack felt his heart stop and the blood rush out of his face. C'mon Kelly, ya always knew that was a possibility, he reminded himself. Swallowing hard, he fought to control his expression. From the way Bixby was watching him, he didn't think he was fooling anyone.

Bixby turned his head, purposely directing the attention away from Jack. "Yeah, that guy's a bastard," he said, agreeing with his partner. "That's usually for second-time offenses though, right?"

Bolger shrugged. "For any foster kid who breaks the law, technically."

"That's cruel," Bixby complained. "If an adult got into a wreck like this they wouldn't go to jail. And anything relating to Snyder is a hell of a lot of paperwork."

"True," Bolger said, turning the information over in his head. "How 'bout this? We write the kid a ticket for reckless driving--"

"But then he'll have a record!" Bixby interrupted.

"If he didn't want a record then he shouldn't have done it!" Bolger snapped. "We write him a ticket and have him take a couple traffic courses."

Jack held his breath. He hated this --having them talk about him like he wasn't standing right there-- but he was too relieved with the direction the conversation was going to say anything. 'Sides, ain't this like any otha' day? Grown-ups pretendin' they know ya, standin' around decidin' your future like ya ain't pullin' the same workload as them.

"Alright," Bixby consented. "I'll swing by your place later, Jack, and help you fill out an accident report and sign up for the class. Off the clock, keep your shirt on," he added to his partner.

Bolger grumbled under his breath as he filled out the ticket. "You're too lenient on these kids," he muttered. "One more kid in the Refuge means one less brat in the system making our lives harder."

Jack tensed, and it took all his willpower to keep his mouth shut. "Thank ya, sir," he said, folding the ticket and slipping it in his pocket. He started back to his truck, when Bixby's voice stopped him.

"I trust you, Jack," the man said. "I know something like this won't happen again." He gestured to Jack's truck, and the three restless boys inside. "You're a good brother to these kids. Go on and take them home."

Jack nodded, his gaze flickering up to meet the other man's eyes. "Thank ya," he said again, hunching his shoulders as he walked back to the car. He tried to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach as he glanced at the ticket, mentally counting how many extra hours he'd have to work to pay it. And traffic school. How am I supposta find time for that, in between the extra hours I'se gotta work and all the homework I'se gotta catch up on? Maybe I can take it at night... He shook his head, wishing he could shake off the bad feeling as well. Come on, Kelly. It was worth it for Race. He glanced up, frowning when he saw Race lounging in the front seat, his feet propped up on the dashboard and his hat over his eyes. Oh, yeah, he thought bitterly. It was all worth it.

"Get your feet off the dash," he said brusquely, getting in and starting the car. The younger boy stared at him, his big blue eyes unreadable. Jack snatched the cap off his head and tossed it into his lap. "I ain't in the mood for this, Race. Buckle up. We don't want two accidents today." He didn't miss Race's scowl as he did so, but he chose to ignore it. The kid's in enough trouble already. If he wants ta throw a fit, I ain't gonna stop him.

"Jack," Crutchie said hesitantly, glancing back and forth between his brothers.

Jack shook his head, starting on the road towards home. "Like I said Crutchie. I ain't in the mood." Crutchie backed off at that, and they rode the rest of the way in silence. When they got to the lodging house, Jack paused to help Crutchie out of the car. "Can ya take the little guy upstairs?" he asked quietly. Crutchie nodded, shooting a glance toward Race in the front seat. "He'll be okay," Jack said, sensing his younger brother's doubt. He didn't get angry often, and he knew it was putting the gimp boy on edge. "I'se'd neva' hurt one a' you boys, ya know that, right?"

Crutchie grabbed onto Jack's arm, using his older brother to steady him as he positioned his crutch. "I know, Jack," he said. "I trust ya-- with my life and any a' theirs." He nodded to where Romeo was plastered against Race's side, his little arms around his brother's waist in a tight hug. "C'mon, Romeo," he said louder, holding out his hand.

It took some doing --and a little intervention from Jack-- to get the kid upstairs, but finally Jack was alone with his brother. "Jack, I can explain," Race said quickly once they were inside.

"You'd better explain!" Jack snapped. He had been angry before, but the run-in with the cops had sapped the strength out of him and left him touchy and irritable. He was terrified --of losing Race for good, of being taken to the Refuge himself-- and he hated that his boys had seen him like that. A leada' ain't supposta let anyone know he's scared. A leada' ain't supposta be scared! Spot was right, bein' in charge is exhaustin' as hell. "Race, what were ya thinkin'?" he asked, an edge of frustration creeping into his voice. "Why did ya think this was a good idea?"

"I don't know," Race muttered, not making eye contact.

Jack threw his hands up. "Ya don't know. Ya don't know." He fished in his pocket for Race's keys, waving them to make a point. "I'll tell ya what I do know, ya ain't gettin' these back any time soon!"

Race shook his head, still not meting Jack's gaze. "Jack, I..."

"No, Race!" Jack said, stronger than he meant to. "It's my turn ta talk now, and it's your turn to listen." His mind gave him no reprieve, reminding him instead of all the times he'd almost lost Race due to some stupid scheme. A half-baked plan to sneak into a bar or get the girl's attention or get a free lunch. Something that would undoubtedly land Race in the Refuge and lost to Jack forever. That stops now. He may not a' listened ta me before, but God help me he'll listen now. "For once in your life, Race, just listen ta what I hafta say!"

"I listen!" Race protested, and Jack shook his head. Does this kid hear himself?

"No, ya don't listen." he corrected. "If you'se'd listened ta me yesta'day we wouldn't be in this mess now!" Why, Race? Why do ya gotta push everythin' I say? I'se tryin' ta help, ya ain't ya figured that out by now? "I'm startin' ta think ya actually like causin' trouble."

"Just stop, Jack!" Race ordered. "Ya ain't my pa. Ya ain't in charge a' me! We ain't even real brothers!" Jack recoiled, fighting hard to make sure Race didn't see how much that hurt. "Ya don't get ta tell me what ta do, an' take my car, an' make me do whateva' ya want!" the Italian went on, growing more and more agitated with every word.

"Racetrack!" Jack said, his voice rising. Not real brotha's. He ain't serious. He can't be. "Who the hell took care a' ya all these years? Who convinced ya ta run away, leave your deadbeat dad behind?" His voice shook with anger and emotion, and he fought to keep it steady. "Who let ya in when you was knockin' on my winda at three in the mornin'? Who is it that does nothin' but protect ya, day an' night, from all the trouble your stupid self gets into--"

Race shoved him hard, startling Jack out of his rant. "I ain't stupid!"

His voice cracked, but Jack ignored it. He grabbed his brother's wrists, fully intending on pinning the kid to the wall until he stopped fighting. They'd done this a thousand times, both familiar enough with each other that no one ever got hurt. So when Race let out a cry of pain and wrenched himself away out of his brother's grasp, stumbling backwards and landing on the floor, Jack knew something was wrong. "Racer?" he asked, his face white and scared.

"I take it back!" Race yelped, sliding backwards out of Jack's reach. He shook his head, tears running down his pale face. "I shouldn't a' said ya ain't my brother! Let me up, I'm sorry!"

"Race, I ain't touchin' ya!" he protested. The boys upstairs have gotta think I'se murderin' him. I'se known Race ta act up ta get outta trouble, but he ain't neva' done this.

"Stop, please!" Race pleaded. "I'll be good, I promise!" His choice of words and wide, frantic eyes struck a chord, an Jack's eyes darkened as the realization hit. How many times had he heard the same thing, years ago through the thin apartment walls?

Stop, please! Daddy, what'd I do? Stop, I'll be good, I promise!

"Racer," Jack begged, hoping the nickname would snap his brother out of it. "What hurts, kid?" He dropped to his knees beside his brother, giving him a quick onceover. He noticed the younger boy's wrist, pressed tight against his heaving chest, and reached for it. "Can I see?" he asked.

Race didn't react, not until Jack's fingers brushed against his arm. "Get offa me!" he yelled, shying away from the touch. "Jack, help!"

Jack pulled away, tears in his eyes. Snap outta it, Race, he begged internally. He had heard those words too many times. Heard them years ago from the tiny kid knocking on his window or sleeping in his bed, and days ago from the room down the hall. Jack, help! Jack, he's comin' ta get me! I don't know what ta do Jack, help me please! "Racer, look up," he pleaded. he gently lifted his baby brother's chin and barely caught a glimpse of his teary blue eyes before the younger boy pulled away.

"Don't touch me!"

Jack's hands flew up in a gesture of peace. "I ain't touchin' ya," he said, trying to make his voice calm. "Look inta my eyes, kid." He stayed where he was, barely breathing, as Race's sobs slowed and the wild look faded from his eyes. "It's okay, kid." he breathed, pulling his brother into a tight hug. "I've gotcha." Race held tight to Jack's shirt, letting the fabric soak up the last of his tears. Jack seized his chance to rub his own eyes, clearing away the tears he hadn't let fall. "C'mon, kid," he said softly, lifting Race up off the floor. He brought his baby brother into the kitchen, setting him down on a chair as he searched for something to use to wrap his wrist.

"This might hurt," he warned, coming back with a first aid kit. Race nodded, biting his lip and saying nothing, as Jack ran his fingers down his forearm, probing for breaks with his steady artist's hands. Jack didn't miss his wince as he grazed over his wrist. "It ain't broken," he noted with relief. A break meant a trip to the hospital, and a hospital meant forms had to be signed, questions would be asked, and he wouldn't have the answers. "Just sprained, I think. I'll wrap it up tight ta be safe."

He stayed quiet as he tied the bandage around the gambler's wrist, allowing him a chance to talk if he wanted it. When the silence stretched from seconds into minutes, he couldn't take it anymore. "Racer, what's really goin' on?"

Race stared at the floor. "I... I don't know," he said. "Ya looked like my pa, Jack. Ya didn't look like you." His pa? I ain't nothin' like his pa... am I? What'd I say, what was it that made him see me like that? Shaking his head, Jack made a vow to find whatever it was and put an end to it fast. "I freaked out, didn't I?" Race muttered, ducking his head.

"Kinda," Jack said absently. His mid was still preoccupied with Race's father. "Racer, I'm so sorry." He held out his arms, half-fearing Race would flinch or pull away again. A surge of relief filled him when the Italian threw his arms around him and held him tight. He pressed a kiss to the top of Race's head, managing a shaky smile. "I love you boys, y'know that, right Race?"

"Yeah, I know," Race said, separating himself just enough to send Jack a grin. "I'se pretty great, ain't I?"

"Yeah, I'd say so," Jack laughed. Thank God, he's back. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and seconds later he heard loud pounding on the front door. Right on cue. "There's Spot," he said, letting go of Race completely.

Race stood up and stretched. "I'll let him in," he said. "L... love ya, Jack," he added shyly. "See ya in 'bout half an hour?"

Jack paused in wiping down the table, a smile spreading across his face. Love ya too, kid. He let out a deep breath, feeling some of the tension leave him. "Let Spot drive!" he called after Race. "We'll finish our talk when ya gets home. No yellin', just talkin'."

A beat of silence followed, and then he heard Race yell back. "I can't hear ya, Jack!"

The Manhattan leader shook his head with a grin, sliding his phone out of his pocket.

One new message from: SPOT

SPOT: knocking on ur door in 2 seconds. good job on not killing race. text me wen its safe 2 bring him home.

Rolling his eyes, Jack tapped out a reply.

Cowboy: im not gonna kill my brother

SPOT: good 4 u. ive thought of killing mine a few times

Cowboy: dont text and drive

SPOT: killjoy

Jack stood up and stretched, trying to get rid of some of the tension. It was times like this when he wished he had someone to talk to, to confide in. Yeah right. I'se'd neva' do that ta my boys, an' Kloppman's got better things ta do than listen ta some foster kid complain about his problems. You'se the oldest, and you'se the leada'. There are some things ya just don't get ta do, Kelly. Jack hooked a chair with his foot and dragged it towards him. With a sigh, he settled into it and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands behind his head and wondering what to do. Well, there is one place ya can go...

"Crutchie?" he called, getting up and taking the stairs two at a time. When he didn't get an immediate answer, he started searching bedrooms. He found the gimp boy on the third try, in the room Albert, Specs, and Elmer shared. Crutchie was sitting on one of the beds with his back against the wall while Albert helped Romeo with homework. All three boys looked up when the door opened.

"Everythin' okay?" Crutchie asked carefully.

"Yeah, everythin's good," Jack said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Crutchie, can ya hold down the fort for a little bit? I'se thinkin' of takin' a walk."

"Sure," Crutchie said, still looking a little worried.

Jack managed a half-grin. "Thanks, Crutch." On his way out the door her ruffled Romeo's hair and flicked Albert's cap off his head. "Love ya, boys."

"Love ya, Jack!" they chorused.

Jack hunched his shoulders as he headed down the stairs and out the door. He paused for a second in the driveway, fingering the keys to his truck in his pocket. The very thought made him feel a little sick. With a shrug, he started off down the road. His mind was distracted, but his feet knew the way. Besides, he was pretty sure that he could find the theatre from anywhere in Manhattan.

His mind kept playing over the moment he got the call, the moment he found out his brothers might be in danger. Scared don't cut it. I was terrified. It felt like I was on my own again, worryin' about some skinny blue-eyed kid who can't get himself outta his own mess. Yeah, that ain't a time I wanna live through again. He couldn't stop himself from remembering, though. Remembering that night years ago, a night that changed his life forever.

The new place was okay. Not good, not bad. Just okay. The couple who had taken him in were new to the foster care system. They were out of their depth. They didn't know how to talk to a kid, let alone raise one, but Jack wasn't about to protest. Not when they had given him a room and a bed. Given time, he could come to like this place. Not that he thought he'd be here long.

There was a boy next door, about his age. The kid was smaller than him, maybe a little younger, with tangled blonde curls and the biggest, bluest eyes Jack had ever seen. He had seen him once or twice, in the hallway or on the way to school. But he heard more than he saw. Through the thin apartment walls, sound carried. Sounds that shouldn't be familiar to a nine year old kid, but they were. Raised voices, breaking glass. A man's rough voice, slurring his words and spewing insults. A smaller voice crying out, the slam of a door, a child's sobs. Jack just clenched his jaw, turning over in bed and using his pillow to block out the sounds.

But one night was different. One night, the man didn't stop. He yelled his words and profanities, he drank his whiskey, but when the kid ran away he followed. Jack could hear them, right on the other side of the wall, like the wall wasn't even there. "You're worthless. Like your mother. Godforsaken woman wasn't good for anythin'. And when she died all she left was you."

The child choked out a sob. "That ain't my fault, Dad!" he yelled back, with shocking bravery in spite of his tears. "None a' this is my fault! Quit blamin' me just 'cause your life sucks!"

Jack winced, silently begging the kid to stop. Sure kid, it feels good ta tell him off. But it ain't worth it, ya know it ain't!

"Don't talk back ta me, boy," the man growled. "Are ya stupid, or what? Ya know what backtalk'll getcha."

Jack clamped his hands over his ears, not wanting to hear the blows fall. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he cautiously let his hands drop. Silence. No man yelling, no sobs. Tap tap tap. Just a quiet tapping at his window.

There were a thousand things he could have done. He could have ignored it, gone back to sleep. That was what his foster parents always did. He could have told himself it was just the wind, or told the kid to go away. But none of those even occurred to him as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, padding quietly over to the window in his pajamas and bare feet.

"Lovely night for a walk, ain't it?" he said, examining the stars. The kid blinked in surprise, balanced precariously on the fire escape. "Kinda chilly, though," Jack continued, rubbing his arms. The blonde-haired boy looked down at himself, as if suddenly realizing he was only wearing a thin T-shirt and sweatpants. "Ya should prob'ly get inside, 'fore ya get pneumonia or somethin'," Jack finished off, holding out his hand to the kid. The new boy took it without a second thought.

That was the first of many nights. They became fast friends after that, Jack and Anthony. Except he never called him that. "I hate that name," the Italian complained. "Me mudda always called me Race. I like that better."

It was refreshing-- finally having a friend who understood. They didn't talk about Race's dad. They didn't talk about Jack's parents. They just had fun. They walked to school together, even though they didn't go to the same one. They did their homework in Jack's room, helping each other out with the hard parts. They ate dinner at Jack's place, ignoring the raised eyebrows and questioning looks the grownups exchanged over their heads. Some nights Race went home, but most of the time he stayed. He always fell asleep first, curled up against Jack's side as the older boy carded his fingers through his unruly curls. Jack liked it when that happened. It meant his friend felt safe. Safe was hard to come by these days.

Safe didn't mean perfect. Jack could hear his foster parents talking late at night behind closed doors. They didn't sign up for this, he knew. They signed up for one child, and they only received money for one child. There were still days when Race showed up with bruises, a black eye he can't explain. He always laughed it off and made excuses, but Jack never believed him. "I walked into a pole" only worked so many times.

But safe couldn't last forever. They were sitting around the table eating dinner when the bomb was dropped. Jack's foster father had been laid off from his job. They would be moving into a smaller apartment within a week. And they wouldn't be taking Jack with them.

Jack's eyes hardened, and he pushed his chair back from the table. His finger curled around Race's wrist, taking him with him as he stormed out of the room. Race sat on the bed, silent and unmoving, as Jack stomped around his room and threw clothes into his backpack. He muttered to himself angrily, and Race respectfully kept his distance, until suddenly Jack sat bolt upright, his eyes sparkling.

"Why don't ya come with me?" he said, dumping his school books on the floor to make room. "You an' me, the families we was born into ain't much. But we can be our own family. We could be brothers!" Race hesitated, but Jack plowed on, excited by his own idea. "Ya can't come official-like, 'cause then there'd be paperwork an' we'se'd end up halfway across New Yawk from each otha'. But if you run away and happen ta end up at the same place I do..."

"No one could stop us!" Race finished eagerly, a spark of hope catching in his chest. "Jack, let's do it!"

The older boy grinned, throwing an arm around Race's shoulders. "You an' me, kid," he said. "Things are lookin' up."

Things were looking up, for a while. But junior high was hard. There were more classes, more homework, and less time with Race. Honestly, that was the hardest part. For three years now, Jack and Race had shared everything. The same room, the same clothes, the same school. But Jack was twelve now, and in seventh grade. He got out half an hour after Race did, which meant he walked home alone, to where Race and their foster father were waiting.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He was Jack's foster father. Race was still a ghost in the system. Anytime Jack was moved, he mysteriously disappeared, too. The Italian kid was street-smart. Given a few days, they'd find each other again.

Things were okay here. The two of them lived with a man, a man who didn't nitpick them for the things they did and didn't care that Race was an extra mouth to feed. Jack was too stressed out by his new school schedule to notice anything bad. In fact, if he didn't know his brother as well as he did, there was a chance he might have missed everything, even the signs that were practically screaming in his face.

Like the way Race buttoned his coat up to his chin and tugged his sleeves down to meet his wrists, carefully avoiding Jack's gaze. He stared at his shoes when their foster father talked, wrapping his arms around his body and examining the toes of Jack's hand-me-down sneakers that were a size too big. He was usually asleep already when Jack finally turned off the light and got into bed himself, so he never had a chance to ask him about it.

One day after dinner, Jack and Race were washing dishes. That was something their foster father insisted on. "I put food on the table and a roof over your heads," he said. "The least you two can do is help out now and then." Jack tried his best to make a game out of it, trying to coax a smile from his little brother. Race had been so withdrawn lately, the sparkle gone from his blue eyes and dark circles below.

Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he needed more sleep. Maybe that was why he didn't notice the plate Jack handed him to put away, watching as it fell through his fingers in slow motion, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces on the floor. The color rushed out of the Italian boy's face, leaving him pale and shaky as he backed against the wall. Jack frowned, trying to place where he'd seen that face before.

Their foster father stood up, his features distorted in anger, and Jack remembered. On the fire escape, outside his window. He'd seen that same terrified face then, begging for someone to notice him and help. "It- it's just a plate," he said, putting himself between his brother and the angry man before them. "Ain't a big deal. I'll... I'll find a way ta pay for it, I promise." He swallowed hard, feeling Race trembling behind him.

The man still scowled, but he just kicked at the shards on the floor. "Clean this mess up," he said gruffly. "And don't let it happen again."

The two boys worked in silence after that, Jack sweeping up the glass shards while Race finished the dishes in record time. As soon as they were done, Jack grabbed Race's wrist and dragged him into their room. "Show me," he ordered.

Race flopped down on the bed, snugging his arms around himself. "I... I don't know what you'se talkin' about."

"Race, don't lie ta me," Jack warned. "I know he's been hittin' ya. Show me."

Race's chin nearly touched his chest. Finally, he stood up and hiked his shirt over his head. Dark, hand-shaped bruises marked his arms, and a few purple marks stood out on his chest and back. "There, ya happy?" he asked bitterly.

Jack's eyes were fixed on his brother's skin. Gently, he laid his hand on a handprint a good three inches bigger than his, a lump forming in his throat. "Racer, why didn't ya tell me?"

Race averted his eyes, his own hand on top of Jack's on his upper arm. "Betta' me than you," he said in a low voice. "I can handle it, I'se had worse. Nothin' ya coulda done," he added, quieter.

"Just 'cause you'se had worse don't mean it's okay!" Jack burst out. "You'se ten years old, Race! This shouldn't be normal, I won't let it be normal. 'Cause there's still one thing I can do." Race glanced up as Jack withdrew his hand, crossing over to the closet and yanking clothes off of hangers. He dumped his backpack out on the floor, his stack of clothes beside it. "Put your shirt back on," he instructed. "And get your stuff togetha'. We'se leavin', tonight."

"Jack, we can't do that," Race protested, pulling his hoodie back over his head with a slight shiver. Sure this place was bad. But he'd had worse. He could take it, why didn't Jack get that? "We got nothin', no food, no money, not a nickel to our names."

"Yeah." Jack paused in his packing to sit back on his heels, staring intently at his brother. "But he hurt ya, Race. I ain't lettin' no one hurt my baby brother, not again." Race flushed, staring down at his feet as he scuffed his toe against the carpet. "Hey, is that a smile?" Jack asked with a grin.

Race smothered it immediately. "No."

Jack's grin widened. "I think it was," he said, bounding across the room.

"Jack-" Race broke off abruptly as Jack tickled his sides, falling back on the bed to shield himself from the attack. "Jack, stop!" he yelped, laughing too hard to get the words out. "Jack, you win! I smiled! J- Jack!"

"Hey!" a voice yelled from the living room, making both boys sit up. "Quiet down in there."

Race's smile faded as he pushed himself up off the bed and started to gather his things. "Hey," Jack said, earning the blonde-haired boy's attention. "We got this. 'Sides, we don't need nothin'. We'se got each otha'."

Race actually did smile at that, allowing his brother to pull him into a hug and ruffle his curls, feeling a quick kiss pressed to his temple. "Yeah," he said. "We'se got each otha'."

They had each other, yes. But Race's first year of junior high was also Jack's first year of high school, and then they were apart again. And adjusting to high school was hard enough without all the trouble Race called. Jack had put his own cell number down as Race's emergency contact-- Race still wasn't registered in the foster care system, and the last thing Jack wanted was for some nosy teacher to find out and call child services. It seemed like it was every day he got a call saying Race had gotten detention, or cheated on a test, or started a fight with some kids twice his size.

He wasn't any better at home, either. He snapped at Jack and their foster parents, and the smallest thing set him off. This family was nice. They treated both boys well, they accepted Race's presence from the start. They even took both boys back-to-school shopping, providing them with more clothes than they'd ever owned at one time in their lives. They didn't deserve to be shouted at by a moody twelve-year-old, or to have doors slammed in their faces when they tried to talk to him.

Jack assured them he'd take care of it. "I'll talk to him. He'll listen ta me, I know he will." Weak promises, he knew. Race would stay quiet and sullen for a few days after Jack had scolded him, but it never lasted long. "Race, you'se gotta stop this!" Jack pleaded with his brother. "Whateva's buggin' ya, kid, you'se gotta tell me! I can't help me if ya won't talk ta me, Racer!"

"I'm fine, Jack!" Race would insist. "Ya wouldn't get it, anyways!"

Jack was on edge at every moment. These people were nice, sure, but even nice people had their limits. He just knew that one day at breakfast they'd break the bad news, saying they couldn't take care of the boys anymore. They wouldn't give the real reason- no, of course not. They'd make something up.

"It just costs too much. You know how prices are rising these days."

"We just don't have the room. This house really is too small for four people."

"We're pregnant. We'll have kids of our own now, we don't need to pretend anymore."

Jack could only hope that was what would happen. Being sent away was far better than the alternative. Every time Race mouthed off, or brought home another detention slip that had to be signed, Jack was afraid it would happen. One day their foster father would snap, and he'd beat Race up good for all the trouble he'd caused.

The teachers had already labeled Race a delinquent. The kid seemed to be doing everything he could to get out of going to school. He faked sick, claiming that the thought of going made him nauseous. He seemed to close himself off once he walked through the doors, sitting by himself and barely saying a word to anyone. More than once at night, Jack glanced over at his brother's sleeping form and saw tear stains on his cheeks.

As the year went on, the teachers began to worry. Race rarely turned in his homework --even though Jack made sure he did it-- and hadn't passed a test all year. His label changed from "delinquent" to "troubled child." They asked if everything was okay at home, and they wanted to schedule a meeting with his parents, but Jack knew he couldn't let that happen. As soon as it got out that Race was not only a delinquent, but a foster kid? He'd be off to the Refuge before Jack could do anything to stop it. At the Refuge they'd check for a record, and he wouldn't have one. So on top of having to endure the horrors there, Race would either be returned to his father or placed in another foster home by the state-- one far away from Jack. At all costs, Jack couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let his brother go to that place.

But some things even Jack couldn't control. The day Race started the fire was the day it all went to hell. He was hanging out behind the gym, messing around with a box of cigars. He knew Jack wouldn't be happy if he found out-- he had gotten detention twice already for smoking on school grounds, the threat of suspension hanging over his head, and Jack had properly threatened him on what would happen if he was caught with a cigar again. So when Race heard someone coming, he hastily dropped the cigar on the ground, stamping at it a few times before ducking inside through a back door.

Fifteen minutes later the fire alarm went off. The dry grass behind the gym was up in flames, but luckily the fire department got there before it could spread to the building. The school let the kids go early- most of them were hysterical, anyways. As soon as Jack heard the news, as soon as he got the text from the school saying that all the kids were safe, he knew Race had to be involved somehow. He left early that day, skipping his last few classes, and managed to get the truth out of his brother.

There were so many things he could have done. He was happy here. These people were good people, and this seemed like the perfect place to age out of the system. Only four more years until he was eighteen-- why shouldn't he spend them here? In a place where he had food and clothes and a bed, caring foster parents who didn't nag or yell or hit, and a school that he could go to for all four years of high school. But as he looked at his brother, the messy-haired, blue-eyed kid standing in front of him and crying out of shame and fear, the truth hit him. Race was miserable here. All the stress of the lives they led --changing schools every year or two, the pressure of starting junior high, the loneliness of not having any friends, having to rely on a boy only two years his elder to keep him safe from everything the world had in store-- had finally caught up to him. He was upset, he was suffering from anxiety, he was confused and he was scared. And Jack knew what he had to do.

He stole answers to the final from a teacher's desk. He got himself expelled, labeled a troublemaker. And before he knew it, he and Race were off to a group home- the Manhattan Home for Troubled Youths, nicknamed the lodging house by the boys who lived there. It was embarrassing. It was new and it was scary. But Race thrived there, surrounded by kids his own age who loved his jokes and his stories and all his quirks. So Jack pasted on a smile and easily slipped into his role of big brother to all. He got a job, he helped old Mr. Kloppman pay the bills, he ignored the mistrustful looks he got when people found out he lived in a group home. First and foremost, he was a big brother. And he'd take any challenge that came with the job, no matter how big. He helped the younger boys tie their shoes, he gave Crutchie piggyback rides down the stairs, he lied through his teeth to the bulls to keep them out of trouble. As long as his brothers were happy, he would be, too. He'd find a way.

By the time Jack made it to the theatre, tears were running down his face-= tears he didn't bother to wipe away. His boys weren't around. He was under no obligation to be Jack Kelly, fearless leader. Medda was one of the few people he knew who didn't look to him for guidance-- it was often the other way around. Her theatre also doubled as an artist's studio, a place to talk, a hidden getaway... whatever he needed, this building was it. No matter how often he moved around, the theatre had always been home.

Jack slipped in through the back entrance. The building was empty, as he knew it would be. He knew the show and rehearsal schedules by heart, there was only one person who would be around this time of day. He heard singing from somewhere in the theatre and he suppressed a smile. Medda was singing to herself again. She always claimed that it helped her think. "Miss Medda?" he called, his voice wavering slightly.

The singing broke off abruptly, and Medda Larkin appeared in the doorway. "Jack Kelly, man of mystery!" she cried out, just like she always did. Her smile faded into a look of concern when she saw his face. "What's wrong, honey?" she asked.

Jack opened his mouth to answer, but his mind filled with images of Race --his baby brother, knocking at his window and hiding bruises and begging him with those big blue eyes to get him out of trouble just one more time-- and he just shook his head, closing his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall.

"Oh, Jack," Medda said, pulling him into a hug.

"I don't know what ta do, Medda!" he said in frustration, holding onto her as tight as he dared.. "I'se tryin'... I'se tryin' ta keep my boys togetha', unda' one roof, and Race seems so set on gettin' takin' away! I can't keep doin' this, Medda! I can't lose 'im!"

"I know, honey," the vaudeville singer said, gently extracting herself from Jack's hug. "Follow me, hon. And get ready to tell me all about it." Her pink skirt trailed behind her as she swept into the main room of the theatre, pausing in front of the stage and glancing back at Jack. "Don't just stand there," she said. "This dress is long and I ain't as young as I used to be. Gimme a hand!"

Jack hopped up onto the stage, holding out his hand with a trace of a smile. "You know where the paintbrushes are," Medda said, smoothing out her skirt and finding a seat. "You can paint while you talk, and I'll just listen."

So Jack poured out the whole story, the words spilling out of him as his brush moved with a mind of its own, painting what it always did-- a place with clay buildings as rusty red as Albert's hair, blue skies that matched Race's eyes, and wheaten fields like Crutchie's messy blonde hair. Santa Fe. For a place that was supposed to be his escape, an awful lot of it reminded him of his brothers.

And Medda sat through it all, watching him work and listening intently. She was a good at that-- letting him talk like he was a person with a problem, not some kid who didn't know what he was doing. She let him pour out all his doubts and worries and fears, everything from losing Race to struggling trust him to wondering how he'd pay for the ticket and still stay in school. He finally stepped back, his chest heaving and the story finished, Santa Fe stretched out before him. It almost looked like he could step right through... like he could pass through the canvas and wake up in his dream world.

"First things first," Medda spoke up, breaking the trance. Jack flinched, looking up from his painting and whirling around to face her. "You don't need to worry about that ticket, honey," the vaudeville singer told him. "You did a brave thing, taking the fall for your brother, and in a way I think you did right. But he needs to learn from his own actions. A few chores will settle him down a little, and there's no shortage of jobs around this place. He can work for me and pay off that ticket. And as for traffic school, you just painted me a beautiful backdrop to use in my next show. And I believe that all artists should be paid for their work." She said the words firmly, her dark eyes sparking with excitement.

"I ain't gonna take your money," Jack protested, but Medda held up a hand.

"Now hold up a minute," she said. "I ain't done talkin'. Don't you worry none 'bout Race's little episode today, okay hon? Raised voices remind him of his daddy just like cheap perfume reminds you of your mamma. Your boys mean the world to you and you'd never hurt them intentionally. And at the end of the day, Race knows that. He knows that better than anyone." She rummaged through her purse for a minute or two, coming up with a wad of dollar bills that she held out to Jack expectantly.

As soon as he gave in, Jack felt a weight slip off his shoulders. "You're a saint, Miss Medda," he said, slipping the cash into his pocket. "I don't know what I'd do without ya."

Medda touched Jack's cheek, wiping away the last of his tears with her thumb. "Sweetie, you'd do just fine," she said with a smile. "Now, you'd better get on back to the lodging house. Don't want your boys to worry."

"Yes, ma'am," Jack said, grinning slightly. He turned to go, and was halfway out the door when he heard Medda calling after him.

"Have Race come by on Saturday," she said. "I'll have a few odd jobs ready for him by then."

"Will do, Miss Medda!" Jack called back, starting his long walk home.

When he got back, he had a text waiting from Spot.

SPOT: ready or not, here we come. i need 2 get back 2 brooklyn, hot shot says the boys locked riddle in the attic.

Jack stared at his phone for a few seconds, wondering how anybody who went through Brooklyn ever made it out alive.

Cowboy: good luck with that. and go ahead and bring him back, everythings good here.

SPOT: just a warning, hes in a weird mood.

Jack didn't have long to wonder what that meant. He barely had time to check on the boys upstairs and get started on his homework before he heard the front door bang open.

"Jack?" Race yelled. Then, barely a second later, "Jack!"

Jack pushed up from the table, crossing into the living room to see what was wrong. "Geez, Racer, I'm here," he said. "What's all the yellin' about?" Race didn't answer with words. He threw himself at his brother, tackling him in a hug as his arms tightened around him in for dear life. Jack wrapped his arms around the younger boy automatically, his concern growing into a panic. "Hey, it's okay!" He squeezed his brother tighter, reassuringly, but Race didn't loosen his grip. "It's okay," Jack said again, softer. "Race, what's wrong?" Talk ta me, buddy. You'se gotta talk ta me.

"I don't wanna go ta the Refuge, Jack!" Race cried, his voice muffled by Jack's shirt.

The Refuge? No. He ain't supposta worry 'bout that, that's my job. "Kid, who told ya that?" he demanded, trying to get a good look at Race's face. His brother didn't budge, and in that he found his answer. "Conlon," he muttered. 'Weird mood,' he says. With the threat a' that place hangin' ova' his head, 'course he's in a weird mood. "I swear, if he's still here..." he threatened, glancing to the door, but Race shook his head. Jack sighed. "Racer..." he said, managing to pry himself loose. "Look at me, kid." Race barely glanced up, and Jack lifted his chin so he could look him in the eye. "I ain't lettin' ya go ta that place, kid," he said firmly. "Ya don't gotta worry 'bout that."

Race jerked backwards out of Jack's reach. "I'm such an idiot, Jack!" he said, tears running freely down his face. "This whole time I thought ya were just bein' a jerk, but ya was tryin' ta keep me outta the Refuge!" He shook his head, wrapping his arms around his torso and falling back another step.

He looked so small and lost, and Jack felt his heart twinge. "Kid," he said firmly. Race didn't look up, until Jack caught him by the shoulders and gave him a light shake. "Look at me, Race," he pleaded, gaining his brother's attention. He waited a second, making sure the Italian's eyes were fixed on him before continuing. "If bein' a jerk is what it takes ta keep one a' my boys from bein' dragged off ta that livin' hell..."

No way in hell am I gonna let any a' my brotha's go through that nightmare. They don't deserve that, no matter what stupid stunts they pull.

Jack cursed under his breath. Race's face right now was the exact reason he hadn't wanted him to know the risks. "I'm gonna kill Spot," he muttered, letting go of his brother and pacing back and forth. "The whole point was that ya weren't supposta find out. If he don't have the brains in his head ta figure that out..."

"No," Race said, surprising him. "I'se glad he told me." The gambler gave a watery smile, the kind he gave when he knew he was in trouble. "Now I can apologize for bein' stupid all week. I drove because ya told me I couldn't, Jack."

"I know," Jack said mildly, suppressing a grin as he moved into the kitchen. Am I supposta be surprised...? C'mon Race, ya know I'se smarter than that. "You'se an idiot sometimes, Race."

"And I took Crutchie with me so ya wouldn't get mad," Race continued, following him as he searched through drawers. "I thought that if I got caught I could say I was just givin' him a ride."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Ya really thought Crutchie bein' there'd help your case," he stated, finally finding a clean washcloth. He shook his head, running it under cold water. "What goes on in that head a' yours, kid?"

Silence. "I don't know," Race said in a small voice. "Ya still mad?"

Jack beckoned his brother over to him. "Nah, not mad," he said truthfully. His talk with Medda and his little trip down memory lane had cleared his mind of anger, but that didn't change the facts. Race stole the keys, disobeyed him, and betrayed his trust, not to mention he put Crutchie and Romeo in danger. He could still feel the cold fear in his bones, and he had to grip the edge of the counter to steady himself. "Still disappointed, though."

Race's gaze flickered downward with a soft "oh," but Jack didn't take it back.

"Close your eyes," he said instead. Race's blue eyes snapped closed, and Jack gently scrubbed away any trace of tears from his little brother's face, pausing to place a kiss on his forehead.

Race pulled backwards again, pain etched across his face. "Jack, stop!" he begged. "I hate it when you'se mad at me, but this is worse. You'se all... disappointed at me... and you'se still helpin' me and stoppin' 'em from takin' me ta that place!"

"Racer!" Jack said, hoping the familiar nickname would make his brother understand. "Ya lied ta me, broke my trust, and put our brothers in danger. Ya screwed up, kid." The blonde-haired Italian flushed red and looked away, but Jack brought him back to reality. "Race, do ya really think anythin' ya do is gonna make a difference ta me? We'se brothers. Brothers look out for each other, no matter what."

The boy's blue eyes widened, and Jack leaned back against the counter. He gets it. He unda'stands. "I'm tired, Race," admitted. "Ya think I don't want ya ta be able ta drive? It would be so much easier if ya could. If it wasn't just me drivin' the boys around? But doin' stupid stuff is just gonna make it longa' 'fore ya can get your license. I know that when we'se was younga' we'se'd fight all the time, an' we really didn't mean it, but I just can't do it anymore. I'se got school, and work, and twenty-somethin' boys ta look out for, and half a dozen classes I'se afraid of failin'." He sighed wearily, feeling another headache coming on. "I thought it'd be quicker ta skip the whole fight and just take the keys right from the start."

"But it wasn't," Race said quietly, realizing. "Jack, I'm sorry I started a big thing. I just..." He hesitated, and Jack looked up. "I wanna be like you, an' drive the boys cool places, an' have Romeo tell me how great of a big brother I am," Race admitted earnestly. "Stuff that you gets ta do every day!"

"Racer, you'se their big brother, too!" Jack said incredulously. "What's more, you'se the fun one. I'se gotta make all the rules, be on ev'ryone's case all the time. You just get ta be... Race. And they love ya for it."

Race merely shrugged, not meeting Jack's gaze. "Hey," Jack said firmly, tipping Race's chin up with one finger. He knew that look. He wasn't about to let Race convince himself he wasn't wanted, wasn't needed.

"Get outta your head, Race, and stay with me," he instructed. Then he gave a lopsided grin. "Let's just stick with you bein' you an' me bein' me. 'Cause kid, it's you who Romeo looks up to. That kid looks at you like ya hung the moon, Racer. Ya should be proud a' that."

Race grinned slightly at the mention of Romeo. "Yeah," he said modestly. "Kid sees somethin' in me, who knows what. Speakin' a' Romeo... I should prob'ly go check on him," he added sheepishly. "I, uh, kinda scared him earlier."

"Yeah, prob'ly a good idea," Jack agreed, pulling the gambler into a headlock and ruffling his hair playfully. "He was upstairs with the boys last I saw 'im."

Race laughed, pushing against Jack's chest to free himself. He was halfway to the stairs when he hesitated, his back to Jack. Whirling around, he crossed the room at a run and threw his arms around the older boy, catching him by surprise. "Love ya, Jack," he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

A smile burst across Jack's face as he wrapped his arms around his brother. "Love ya too, kid," he said, dropping a kiss to the Italian's messy blonde curls. The familiar sharp scent of tobacco smoke hit him and he frowned, grabbing a fistful of Race's shirt and bringing it to his nose. Dang it, Race. "Have ya been smokin'?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Gotta go, Jack!" Race yelled, breaking away and dashing up the stairs. "I'll check in on Crutchie too, while I'm up here!" he called down.

"Hold it!" Jack ordered. "Back it up an' bring it here, Racetrack." He folded his arms over his chest, waiting for Race to obey. "Gimme the cigars," he said sternly once the younger boy stood in front of him.

"It ain't fair, Jack," Race protested as he fished the box of Coronas out of his pocket.

"It is too fair," Jack said, taking them off his hands. Can't leave this kid alone for a minute... "You'se comin' with me ta the diner tomorra afta' school, too."

"Noooo!" Race complained, stretching the word out comically. "Just tomorra, right?" he added hopefully.

Let's see how tomorra goes, first. "We'll see," Jack promised. Race let out an over-exaggerated sigh, and the leader couldn't help but grin. "Love ya, kid!" he reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah, whateva'!" Race waved him off. He quickened his steps, calling for Romeo as he took the stairs two at a time, but not quite quick enough to hide his smile from Jack.

Jack laughed a little, dropping the Coronas into his pocket. His fingers brushed against a piece of paper, and he sobered quickly as he brought out the ticket. He set it on the table next to him as he settled into his chair, staring blankly at his history textbook. He glanced back at the stairs, catching bits and pieces of Race's conversation with Romeo, and he made up his mind. Oh, yeah. It was all worth it.

Jack's head snapped up, catching himself just before he nodded off. C'mon, Kelly, focus! he scolded himself. Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his eyes. He'd been staring at the page so long, the words and numbers had turned themselves into a jumbled, blurry mess. I can do this. Thirty-two problems left. I can do thirty-two problems. That's just... eight problems, four times. He sighed, taking another sip of his long-cold coffee. Screw this. I'se failin' anyways.

Today had been long. And to top it all off, his little meeting with Officer Bixby had taken forever-- which was why he was up doing chemistry homework at ten past midnight.

He was just about to turn out the light and call it quits when a small voice made him freeze. "Jack?"

The leader whirled around to find Romeo in the doorway, wearing pajama pants and one of Race's T-shirts. The shirt hung on his thin frame and made him look so small. Paired with his pale face and wide, dark eyes, Jack didn't stand a chance. "Hey, buddy," he said, holding out his arms. Romeo ran into them, throwing himself at his brother and burying his face in the crook of his neck, his unruly dark hair tickling Jack's chin. "Bad dream, kid?" Jack asked softly. He felt Romeo nod against him, and he hugged little boy tighter.

"Why didn't ya go ta Race?" he asked. He knew that Romeo woke Race up most nights. Nearly every morning when Jack went in to get them up for school, Romeo was snuggled up against his big brother's side. Race had yet to complain, so Jack figured he had it handled. "What's up, kid?" he asked.

Romeo just shook his head, tightening his grip. "Race was in this one," he mumbled, his voice muffled by Jack's shirt.

Jack felt a pang through his heart, at a loss for what to do. Don't tell Race. Whateva' ya do, just don't. "Tell ya what, kid," he said, prying Romeo off of him. "How's about ya sleep in here tonight? I'se..." He glanced at is desk. "I'se still got some homework ta do. I'll stay up and keep ya company." He tossed back the blanket and lifted Romeo up onto the bed before taking a seat at his desk.

Romeo hopped right back up and climbed on Jack's lap, leaning back against him with a sigh. Jack glanced down at him with a grin. "And just whaddaya think you'se doin'?" he asked, ruffling Romeo's hair.

The kid shrugged, making himself comfortable. "Just sittin'."

"Just sittin', huh?" Jack said, tossing his pencil onto the desk. "What's up, kid?"

Romeo messed with the hem of his shirt, humming quietly to himself. Jack wrapped his big hands around Romeo's, making the kid look up. "I don't know, Jack," he admitted. "I feel like... like my tummy hurts. But it ain't like when Race spins me around. It's like... I feel like I'se forgot ta do somethin', and like evr'rythin' ain't okay, but I don't know why! And I don't wanna eat and I don't wanna sleep. Can ya fix it, Jack?"

Jack sighed. "That's called anxiety, buddy," he said. "It ain't fun, is it?" Romeo shook his head silently. "Okay, kid," Jack decided. He scooped his baby brother up and carried him over to the bed, pulling the blanket up around him. "I was feelin' some anxiety today, and ya know what helped?"

"What?" Romeo asked, snuggling under the blanket. His wide dark eyes were fixed on Jack, waiting for his answer.

"I went down ta the theatre and talked with Medda," Jack said. "So how's about ya talk ta me?"

Romeo nodded. "I can do that," he said. Jack dragged his chair over to the bed, rested his elbows on his knees, and listened. He listened while Romeo told him everything from hating pre-algebra to feeling left out to being the youngest to being scared of driving with Race again.

Jack was quiet for several moments after Romeo had finished. "Today scared ya, huh?" he said.

"Yeah," Romeo whispered, picking at a thread in the blanket.

"It scared Race, too," Jack told him.

Romeo's head shot up. "Race don't get scared," he said.

"'Course he gets scared," Jack said. "Just like I get scared. We was both scared today. And I think Race might be scared that you'se mad at 'im."

"I ain't mad," Romeo said, his eyes wide.

"Didja tell Race that?" Jack questioned.

Romeo shook his head. "I told him I don't want his help," he said quietly, averting his gaze from Jack's.

"Hey, it's okay!" Jack said. "Tomorra, how 'bout ya tell him ya do want his help? I bet he'd like that."

Romeo smiled. "I can do that," he said. "Can I come ta the diner with you and Race?"

Jack grinned. "I bet he'd like that, too," he said. He glanced at his bedside clock, and his eyes widened. 12:57. "Time for you ta get ta bed," he said. "And time for me ta finish up this mess." He downed what was left of his coffee in one gulp, dropping into his chair to labor over chemistry equations.

"Love ya, Jack," Romeo said sleepily.

Jack smiled slightly. "Love ya too, Romeo."

Jack sighed wearily, dumping a load of dishes into the sink and glancing at the time. Just an hour left 'til my shift ends. That's just fifteen minutes, four times... aw, forget it. Afternoon shifts always seemed to drag on forever, and having Race there complaining about homework wasn't helping at all. Neither of them wanted to be there. All Jack wanted to do was go home and sleep, but he knew he couldn't. He had his boys to take care of, that online traffic course to work on, and of course, more homework. It neva' ends...

The bell over the door jingled, and Jack could hear a familiar voice yelling even from back in the kitchen. "Race!"

Romeo. Jack smiled, hearing his brothers excitedly chattering away. Last night's episode had had him a little worried, but it looked like everything was going to be okay.

"Hey, Mr. Jacobi?" he called to his boss. "Can I bring my brothers a couple sodas?"

The older man looked up, taking in the scene of the two boys working at the counter. His mustache twitched, concealing one of his rare smiles. "Go ahead," he said. "On me, just this once."

Jack's grin widened. "Thanks, Mr. Jacobi," he said sincerely, heading back out to the dining room.

"A-tro-cious," Race was saying, sounding the word out. "Jack's cooking is atrocious."

"You two," Jack told them, setting two sodas on the counter. "You'se gonna be the death a' me."

Race laughed it off. "Thanks, Jack," he said.

"Thank you!" Romeo echoed.

"Suspicious," Race said, reading from the list again. "Jack bein' this nice ta us is suspicious."

Jack shook his head, heading back to the kitchen with a smile. These kids, he thought fondly. They're drivin' me crazy.

Tag list: @newsieswearingheelies , @smart-alecc , @purplelittlepup , @killmebroadway

#drivin me crazy #newsies #fanfic #racetrack higgins #jack kelly #romeo #spot conlon #crutchie morris #medda larkin #albert dasilva #tw: abuse

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ts-akhmim · 4 years ago

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Episode 13 | “STIMULUS CHECK? NO BITCH HERE'S A REALITY CHECK” - Adam

so. its over and im out of the game. i waited a couple hours to write this because i knew i would hurt some feelings if i didnt and if we learnt anything from today its that jake's feelings get hurt real easy and we wouldn't want that would we. i think the reason i have struggled (and likely still will) to get closure is because i don't think this makes sense for jake? i've had some frustrations and some suspicions with jake over the past two rounds but i had no intentions of cutting him any time soon. i am a shield he so desperately needed what is wrong with him. like even if i wanted to cut him how on earth would i have got it done? with what numbers. to use a quote from autumn in the game we played together before but adapted for this instance, "today we learned unless jake feels like the prettiest girl at the dance every minute of every day, you’re not doing enough". now to the fun stuff. i want to just tribute to adam and autumn. adam is someone i was SO sus of at the start but he is a gem. his personality is so vibrant he is a true gem. autumn hill is who i wanna dedicate this to and focus this on. autumn is one of my best allies ever and one of my favourite ORG people ever... what a complete. legend. such a role model to me in my real life, she has taught me to be confident, to back myself and to not take any shit and for that I'm so grateful. i literally am so honoured to call her my friend and i cant wait to meet her in person when she moves to the UK WOOOO. anyway i've also moved on from being 100% self negative. i fought so hard this season i played so so so hard and i fought my way to F8 despite being a threat since F21. i did the damn thing and im proud, and even tho it sucks that all my fighting was cut short by my closest ally i tried my very best and that's all i can do. thank you to the hosts for bringing me back, its been a... journey hehe

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I don’t think anyone is ready for this round or at least what’ll come of it... I’m expecting an explosion or a mess given Jakey thinks he’s staying, TJ has been lied to, and hopefully Autumn or Adam leave next... its all a mess. If Jakey goes, I’m planning a 2-2-2 split between Autumn and Adam where we maybe get Autumn out but Adam leaving doesn’t hurt either.

Well that vote blows... I really thought I had someone that I could navigate this end game with and then it got completely taken away from me. Now, I know I have to do what’s best for my game. And there’s two scenarios I see being possible: 1. Staying with my alliance and voting out Autumn/Adam and then risking that the three Beauties will actually cut someone in that group. 2. I flippy flippy and vote with Autumn (oh dear, I’m actually considering this?) and get Amir out to set myself up with Kendal and Augusto to get to the F3. Amir just told me he has the Beauty idol, so this may be my only shot to get him out of this game. I really need to consider both of these options, because I think this is the round that makes or breaks my entire game.

Having a mental breakdown over the fact that I’m probably gonna lose jakeys friendship And even tho our friendship was 100% real and I love him so much he’s gonna think it was all fake

https://66.media.tumblr.com/0d8a51f03cf584de6183ffd755b60d02/tumblr_nsvsd4arRn1rrcjuxo1_r1_400.gifv

Not a single person in this game has ever wanted to go to the end with me except for kendall Jakeys trying to take her out right now and i want to keep jakey in the game so bad but 4 people want him out so bad and the only way to save him is with my idol and i want to keep my idol and i want to keep a relationship with kendall but augusto will know that its my idol that saved jakey so my entire game will be blown the fuck up so i have to just let him go strategically, Since jakey is leaving, i wanna try and make sure adam is next because hes the strongest competitor that will be left and if i make it to five and four i need to win comps. Okay I need to actually strategize lmao so after this vote if it goes as expected I believe autumn has the idol, just based on how she was behaving Her and adam and me are afraid of tj kendall Augusto final 3, however, if that does become a final 3, I can force it out of kendall, so as long as Adam and autumn do not win immunity, we can split the vote on them, or just 3 beauties vote together strong. I’m also using autumn and Adams target on tj to make tj want them out even more, so next round, autumn and adam vs tj is a thing, and the 3 beauties can be safe as long as it doesn’t tie, and if worst comes to worst, I still have my idol, which can get me in the final 5 but I really really want to save my idol for final 5

JAKEY GETS VOTED OUT

So here’s my dilemma for the round: I basically started the Adam name with Amir. I would prefer to go with that because I don’t know if I can beat Adam at the end. The problem with this though is that I don’t want to lose Jakey if he’s so for getting rid of Kendall. So where is the middle ground here?

So I think tonight is going to be my night. I have a lot of power right now in this game oddly enough. Are people potentially going for me, yeah, but I'm going to be safe which means I probably have enough room to screw up whoever's plan I would like to. Amir wants to do a 2-2-2 split, which I can easily screw up if I get Adam and Autumn on my side (which I see possibly happening). I can more than likely convince Autumn she doesn't need to play an idol if she's the vote (maybe on that one). And I know Adam wants to make a move with me saying Augusto is trying to get the vote on me or Autumn, which shows my concern that the three Beauties are at least locked to final four (I don't think they'd all take one another, but I don't think they'll turn on one another just yet). So now, here's where I may be able to take a stand and put myself in a spot where I may have some control. I need that one move that is at the top of my resume... can this be the one? Question is: what the hell is that move?

I was really confident last night we had a good plan set up but today I dont know why in my gut i feel like im about to be voted out, i dont want to be a pessimist but im just making this so i dont feel like a *complete* fool so um yeah...... we're about to go to tribal in a matter of minutes, autumn isnt playing the idol so im gonna feel real dumb if i gave it to her and she screws me over, but i did my work, and at this point all i can do is sit and keep my fingers crossed things go my way, but trust and believe even if im voted out yall will see ONE final confessional from me dragging them left and right.

Okay back to this game, so basically, I do not trust anyone at this current moment not a single person except maybe kendall, this is the most wild vote I have ever ! I think I’m getting bamboozled literally, OKAY OKAY OKAY so Augusto tells adam that he wants to do autumn, Adam tells me and autumn that, we talk to autumn, autumn gets tj on board. From my perception, autumn and adam should be believe that us 4 are voting Augusto and leaving kendall out of it. But then tj and I already told Augusto that plan, and the real plan is to 2-2-2 them, Incase one of them plays an idol. But I have so much fear from the things that tj has been telling Augusto about his fear of my idol and me being at final 5 and 4, and also telling me he’s scared Theres no cracks in the beauty alliance, so he might actually agree to that plan with us and then 3-2-1 me by telling them everything because he literally could do that And then whoever wins immunity is going to change everything even more, because of one of them wins, the other can play the idol on themselves which is a whole ass mess in itself, and right now, it just comes down to if I trust tj and Augusto . R they telling me the truth or are they lying ? Like I’m dkdjdjnd kdndkdnd Anyway, I probs am playing my idol today cuz I don’t wanna look like booboo the fool but also we love risks, so I might just not play my idol, idk idk it depends who wins immunity and it depends on the vibe I get from tj moving foreward

So I haven't really been making confessionals... In my defense I have been busy but that doesn't mean I haven't been active... So I have a final 2 deal with everyone in the cast sans Autumn. I have a deal with TJ, I have a deal with Augusto and I have a deal with Amir. And as much as it sucks I am going to stick to Augusto and Amir. Sorry TJ you are a good bean but I don't want to lose to you.

Should I blame the whole plan on tj http://prntscr.com/ss4sie

i didnt make a confessional before the live since i wasnt sure what the HELL was gonna happen so hello coming to you LIVE from the afterlife because yall didnt THINK you could fly me off this island without one last adam rant for the season did you? for the first time in all 3 times ive played actually....feeling some type of way over being voted out, maybe it's just because of quarantine and having literally nothing better to do, but i took this game seriously and i tried my damndest. I think my fatal mistake was trying too hard (or maybe not enough?) today with certain people, i was trying to play them all and my biggest fear of them either comparing notes and catching on, or they just didnt want to hear me out, ALSO THE TWIST PLEASEEEEEE im kinda glad if i went out it was kinda just....in that big bang of a mess, i mean, a legacy advantage and an idol being played AND wasted? ugh i really had the gals and gays shook and bothered!! because at least now i can blame that to feel slightly better about myself, because trust and believe if i had even just TEN MINUTES to strategize i think i couldve convinced autumn to use our idol on me because i had a feeling in my gut it was coming especially with how silent it was, i also regret not CAUSING A DAMN SCENE. I HAD 10 MINUTES TO SAVE MYSELF AND I REALLY LET MYSELF BELIEVE I WAS IN THE CLEAR AND NOW IM CLEAR-LY OUT THE GAME. foolish man. (foolish man being ME). but whatever. at least i got to clear my name from THOSE DAMN BEAUTYS, I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA BE MY UNDOING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER SINCE DAY 7. im not entirely bitter at anyone for lying to me since i was lying just as much, but ultimately i feel like for the entire season i did the best with what i had. I could be a complete fool but even now that im out of the game i STILL stand by what i said with how i feel like i played with my back against the wall for most of the game and i felt like it was truly SO hard getting people to want to work with me especially early on and FOR WHAT REASON? but whatever, it made the game interesting to me at least because i felt like they wrote me off, so i wrote my own ending. and clearly it wasnt the ending i wanted, but im surprisingly at peace with it in a weird way even just as im typing it out, i feel like for the first time in my tumblr survivor career i didnt just sit back and do nothing, i got to get my hands a little dirty, be apart of some good plays, and according to ali i actually did have some sort of a shot at winning r i p, im a really competitive person (the downside of being an aries) so the fact that i even got to play the game and enjoy making moves, i know i tried my best and that's what matters in the end!!! Also not to toot my own horn but im VERY happy i can at least say im happy with my finishes being 3rd, 5th, 6th.. not bad for a girl with no talent! not me realizing with me getting 6th place and all these idols/advantages coming out i almost had a cirie game changers moment... ugh even more iconic. anywho AUTUMN IS THE ONLY ONE I WANT TO WIN SO SHE BETTER DO THE DAMN THING.

hey you guys, it's me adam coming to you from post tribal where i was just voted ou- what? huh?? they didnt vote me OUT??? gorl what in the 2020 is going on here because i was shocked, i mean im THRILLED, the devil works hard but i work harder (autumn too ofc she probably did more than me actually DKJSA) - BUT im a little in awe because guess what this is the FIRST time i really just had to trust the people i have been talking with and they didnt screw me over, yet at least, i know jake was just a universal threat especially after the little stunt he pulled... so now my thoughts on that, ill tell you i was ready to go into tribal and for him to try and verbally murder me on his way out, so im glad he didnt do that but im always ready to fight so i wouldve loved the drama. kinda sad we didnt get it SDJKAF but all in all, i was all for working with jake to take down that other side, but if youre gonna burn me you better prepare for the inferno im gonna fire back, and sure the others couldve just wanted jake gone for their own plans, but i think me and autumn absolutely did THAT and thats that on that. I knew TJ was going to vote for me thanks to Kendall because me and her have truly bonded over wanting to get jake out this round for throwing both of our games into chaos, and guess what, while me and kendall may not have been talking as much before, im about to get REAL buddy buddy with her she's suddenly my bestie boo because now that we're at 6? game on. I want kendall in the end with me and i need to keep convincing her that she needs me with her and ill vote with her, and i think she's interested in it unless she's playing me because she did give me that TJ tea, which love tj as a person im actually not mad, he will just need to be voted off next still if i have anything to do with it OOP. He doesn't really fit into any of my plans, plus he's officially the only person to vote for me now except for either liam or the prejury? probably the pre jury, so now i know i probably cant trust him, but getting amir out next could also be the move, it all really depends on immunity, im gonna keep up on my appearences, get my princess diana wave on and be bestie boos with as many people as i can because my strategy at this point is to just make sure everyone believes they need me around, im not a THREAT im here to HELP you, but ultimately im only looking out for my best interest like hello its the game, and autumns too for now because she still has that idol that we can play to benefit both of us, so who the hell knows what's gonna happen live tomorrow but bring it on because im ready for a battle

So now that that's done and I'm cute and immune, I can confirm it all. Yes I do have the merge idol, yes I've had it since Final 7 but planned not to play it until Final 5, and yes that makes me the most powerful person here. Deadass everyone wants my head on a stick and I don't give a single fuck. I'm chilling all weekend, letting them think they're doing something if/when I lose win immunity, and then I'm sending a man out on one vote Monday night. You think they hate me now? Wait til they find out they can't take a shot at me until Final 4 lmaaaaoo. Be blessed!

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#BackWithVengeance

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survivetashirojima · 5 years ago

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Episode #6: “LITTLE MISS MADISON said FUCK JACOB” -Kevin

*takes my numbers back and hisses at Stephen Vi and Timmy*

WHATS POPPING, this game thats whats popping ladies and gentlemen whew, to say the least that is. Considering my last confessional was like round 1, let me go ahead and fill you guys in on what you MISSED!! (from my perspective) We voted Tom, then Julia, then Kenny all unanimously which was meh, I liked Tom but he's very ruthless but I think I could've worked with him for a little but he just wasn't on so I couldn't do anything without risking my game, then theres Julia another person I liked and wanted to work with but her inactivity was gross and she made her own bed and she's kinda crazy so hopefully it was for the better, lastly in the string of unanimous votes we had KENNY I was ELATED to see him go, finally someone actually bad for my game left, we never talked and we did not have a good history so him staying would have sucked, then JG had to walk from the game which was.. something, personally for my situation that was great and while I hope everything is ok with him and his life I am not ashamed to say I was happy to have his presence in the game be gone, to be frank. THEN!!!!!!! things started to heat up! So going into the 4th tribal I was vulnerable for the FIRST time all game, and to make matters worse there was only 5 other people to choose from outside of myself, so that was really really shitty and I hated that feeling, luckily prior to the vote I found my way into 2 different alliances one being named the "fat five" consisting of myself, madeleine, jacob, ricky and andrew! this is a group i feel comfortable with for the time being and I trust, and then after that I was added to a chat with Joanna, Pat and Stephen which seems to be an alliance but is not properly named. I appreciate that my social ability has led me into 2 different completely non-overlapping alliances but it's also put me in the MIDDLE of those 2 alliances which seem to have different HOPES about where this game is going. So during the final 14 vote my name was brought up for what was told to me as a millisecond, a very short period of time that didn't really spark any fires in people to want to vote me out, I heard of this first through JOANNA, surprisingly she told me Stephen told her about it which was alarming to me because I liked Stephen and should he have heard my name I would have expected him to bring it to my attention, frankly he did NOT and in the midst of having a 1 in 6 shot of going home I was not going to rock the boat at all, so I bit my tongue and let the round play on and considered this something to be better addressed at a future time. So back to the actual VOTE the actual coming up of names I had no part in both Dylan and Brien were brought to me by the respective "sides" of the tribes if you will, with Dylan being Pat/Jo/Steves choice and Brien being Mad/And/Ric/Jac's choice both side were VERY intensely wanting their vote to go through (which is expected) but as everything unfolded I realized the kumbaya spirits that blessed the 3 tribals prior had seemingly left the building because me being vulnerable for the first time is a GREAT time to take a break, to put it quickly THE VOTE WAS SPLIT. With neither side budging despite my best efforts. After some investigative work I realized that outside of the fat five the brien vote was not widely wanted, and after taking myself out of the picture would have resulted in a 7-6 vote with Dylan leaving. So once i realized this and decided for myself that Dylan leaving was in fact the better move for my game, considering his challenge dominance and his close bonds to people who i considered my closest allies, he needed to be cut loose. In the final stretch before tribal I knew what was coming and what needed to be done so I had to lay the base work for what I was about to do which MEANT either flipping my alliance (fat five) or providing visible doubt within myself enough to prove that I was not LYING, I spoke to madeleine through most of this confessing concerns that we did not have the votes and perhaps it was best to just ride the dylan wave out as a unit like we had done up until that point, but there was no budging with her I expressed MULTIPLE concerns MULTIPLE times, and no movement. Then I went to jacob who was out of the loop as ever, he had no idea dylan was even an option and I told him that it was and it was likely to be the end result of the night with or without him, and I then tried to speak to andrew who was presumably at work but i really couldn't tell ya, I messaged him asking had he heard Dylans name at all, no response but the effort was there and I wasn't gonna call him just to give bad news, and lastly in the final moments I confessed to madeleine I "switched" my vote to Dylan to avoid a tie, which was true, and became my main selling point for WHY I did it which is fair, while there are revotes it's still half way to rocks and thats one hike i will NOT be taking, at least not this early and not over Dylan's ass lets make that clear. Then, the deed is done and the dust settles and im left to pick up the pieces of a devastated alliance, as I said i expose myself and admit to not wanting a tie and worrying for the safety of myself and ricky (who would've had a 50% chance of one of us going should it have gone to rocks) Im comforted by Madeleine and Ricky who understand the position I was in, Andrew was understandably and slightly upset but hey I DID try and talk to him, jacob pretty indifferent as always, I felt in the clear and I had nothing to do but move on. I will be doing the final 13 vote in a SEPARATE confessional, you're welcome

BACK BACK BACK AGAIN, HALLELU! where were we? lets keep this going shall we, anyways SO FINAL 13, the challenge is remembering the cats trailer which I tried slightly after quite a long day at work so my brain wasn't fully there, I did do quite a bit of studying but my dumb ASS didn't think to remember the order of celebrities, or the featured names/works that were affiliated with the trailer, so I lost a lot of time in having to go back and watch those parts which scored me a mere 14 !! which was sadly not enough to win Immunity, instead Andrew and Stephen won! 1 person from each alliance, how poetic. The winners didn't really affect me or my gameplay this week it was quite a non factor. Which makes sense in a 14 person tribe, with now 12 people eligible to be voted out. The first half of the day was quite like every other vote, no names, no activity everyone waiting for the storm to flood in and sweep us away in the dark murky waters of tashirojima where somebody's gonna end up drowning. AND THEN IT HAPPENS!! suddenly there's names... LNGVO (Pat/Jo/Steve alliance) seems to be wary of Madeleine, who is quite the talker and a good social player considering her persistance with talking to people, it's impressive really. She won the social challenge by a landslide and that scared people and specifically scared Pat who threw her name out there first, pitching a pretty decent case in my opinion but Maddie trusts me so I don't really give into the pitch while Joanna agrees I subtly drop a message providing why her gameplay isn't all it's seemed to be and how she'll likely do herself in in due time, and we should probably just wait it out. While my tiny message likely had no impact Stephen did somewhat agree, he felt making another big move (was dylan that big of a move?) would set a domino effect into play and ultimately catch up to one of us which I agreed with. So while Pat and Joanna were still hung up on Maddie going home if at all possible we/they also recognized that her likability at this point in the game would make it hard to vote her out considering Jay/Timmy 2 MOTR players wouldn't write her name down was a game changer. So then the vote swapped to Jacob a less social and less likable player but also a key component to the unbeknownst to them alliance, the fat five, so I couldn't really have that happening BUT I did encourage the idea once it came up because while I wanted to pitch the idea of going Brien to this group but with the talk of "staying strong" as an "8" that voted together previously I knew it wouldn't be well received and I didn't want to risk looking sketchy that early in the day cause you never know how quick a vote can turn if given the right chance, so I sat back and agreed and made a small case for why jacob "SHOULD" be the vote and then they settled on Jacob because my assumptions were that if the vote was Jacob then Madison (who i assumed to be close to jacob) would not vote for him and would mean not necessarily a vote for the fat five but one less vote for LNGVO who by the mathematics of it, had the majority. BUT BOY WAS I WRONG, cause "we" settled on jacob and as it turns out LITTLE MISS MADISON said FUCK JACOB and voted for him !!! That was a shocker. But lets back up, before the votes were read I eventually brought up Brien's name AGAIN in the fat five, hoping we could stick on that, piss off less people and keep the sides more even so I don't give either side the upperhand WITHOUT needing little ol me, the middle position is only powerful if theres a middle to sit in. So if Brien went home I kept the balance, I appease the previously disappointed fat five and save the day with getting brien out just 1 round late. Without much fight they agree, it really does seem like the best decision so now I know where both sides are aiming I just need to figure out what their ammunition looks like. I knew where most of the votes were gonna be EXCEPT FOR Jay and Madison, both promised both sides their votes (which I know because I am somehow a part of both sides and thats why I hate my life) so without myself madison and Jay the votes looked like like 6-5 in the LNGVO favor in eliminating Jacob, a close ally of mine, so now I had to secure 1 more vote to tip the scales in my favor, Jay had been on the fence all day from what he said, and so I went to talk to him like 10 minutes before tribal and he confessed to being on the fence and he told me while he promised his vote was going to go against jacob he didnt feel like he could follow through and i said SAME DUDE!!!! we're in the same boat, so i took this opportunity to relate and then make sure he felt confident in his decision because he was making it with me. And we locked on Brien, and he went on to later tell me that me agreeing with him and our conversation was the push he needed to lock that vote in, which im so grateful for. Now yet again I had to soften the blow to the side that I was voting against, while I knew Jay was flipping for about 20 minutes before I said anything (from 5:50 to about 6:10) I needed to find the perfect timing to tell LNGVO that I heard Jay was flipping and that Madison was also voting Brien (which wasn't true but I DID HEAR that she was from Madeleine and Andrew so I didn't lie) and with this I said I don't know if the votes are there anymore, and obviously Joanna not showing up until the last second was helpful too because that added to the sense of insecurity with that vote, and I also said I don't wanna vote Jacob if he's not gonna go home (again, true) and so with only 1 more person to be asked a question I dropped the bomb with little to no time to recover and have Stephen or Pat go and talk to jay to flip him back and no time to really figure out what was happening. Then the votes are read Brien goes home THANK U BABY JESUS and my plan worked out. Now I just need to continue to balance these 2 alliances as best as possible. In my next submission I will talk about the information and events that happened AFTER the votes were read. Thank you!

PART 3, THE FINALE, ARE YOU EXCITED? im excited, anyways. So Brien's gone hallelujah amen am i right. The LNGVO alliance seems understand when I express my concerns that the vote was too close to call and I couldn't really trust much of what anyone said like I mean come on, it was 7-6 for christs sake. They seem ok with it, understanding that this isn't the end of the world and theres still a bunch of game to be played and just hope to move forward stronger than before and hopefully still with the majority. And then I speak to Jay again, "baffled" at the fact that we were in the middle and the decision makers, making sure he knew it was both of our decision which leads him to propose that he would like to work with me, and I agree obviously! I really like Jay we share a love of pizza and pretzels and anything that combines pizza and pretzels. But also he's in the middle as well and he was another person to promise his vote one way and go back on it, similar to what I did, so I wont or shouldn't be taking heat alone which is always good. AND THEN the real kicker of the night, earlier on in the day I spoke to Stephen about hearing my name and not telling me, and gave him the chance to tell me his story, as vague as can be he tells me that it came up but wasn't truly considered, when asked specifically who said my name he dodged the question but did tell me it originated in a conversation with Madeleine, who I trusted and also didn't tell me about hearing my name but AFTER THE VOTE Maddie brought it up that Stephen in fact said my name on a call to HER not the other way around which jogged my memory and I confirmed and he in fact threw me out as an option for the vote, the same round he started an alliance with me! Ridiculous that guy. So now I know that Stephen has a thought in his mind that looks at me as a threat and someone that he ALREADY has considered targeting. While I initially felt bad having to let down LNGVO considering the alliance was created by Stephen I feel less bad now knowing that he is two-faced and is to not be trusted by me, despite how hard he wants to try and seem loyal to the alliance. People such as Andrew and Mad already see his sketchiness and the back and forth and I'm glad I want to capitalize on that and hopefully make something happen. But it's too soon to tell what I want to happen this round with 2 days for immunity and another for tribal really anything can happen and thats worrysome. but lets end on a positive note, Madeleine told me that I am her favorite person in this game and that she trusts me the most, which is AMAZING, she also brought up the idea of forming a final three of myself, her and Andrew to which I obviously agreed to but I think she may not know that Andrew has a pre-existing relationship to Ricky, and I have a pre-existing relationship to Jacob and Jacob and Ricky ALSO know each other well. But that may not even come into play but it's important to note that I am now officially a part of someones end game (for the time being) this is huge and I hope to become a part of more peoples end games as the game progresses. Good Luck Charlie!

I was scared I wasn’t coming across how I wanted to be in this season, turns out I am and I’m so freaking happy!!!

I was think about the challenge in class and looked at my coffee and my mind just screamed “Starbucks cat!” And then “MADDIE NO”

Madeleine is totally a backstabber but that's okay. I already knew that since tribal 2. I think I'm gonna switch to vote her off only bc now I have Jay and Pat talking to me. Thank gods Brien got voted off. He never talked to me besides setting up the alliance. I favor people who talk over people who doesn't so that's one less inactive person. I"M SO GLAD THAT THIS CHALLENGE IS AN ARTISTIC ONE. I can not wait to see how people react to what I drew. I think its hella nice. Even if I get voted off after this challenge, that's perfectly fine and I'm okay with that since this is my pride and joy of the season. Plus I won't be gone gone since we're all jurors anyways. It'll just be lonely for a few days until the next juror gets voted out. Or multiple. Lukas and Olivia seems to be hinting at more than one person can be voted out and idk man. Scary business right there

So this is how I'm pretty sure the votes went last time? - Andrew, Maddie, Ricky, Kevin, Jacob, Jay, Madison: voted out Brien - Stephen, Timmy, Vi, Joanna, Pat, Brien: voted out Jacob Unless I'm a buffoon......but I think Madison was the swing vote. I think. Idk. I had to convince Jay very very very very very VERY last second and then at the same time get people to convince Madison while I was also trying to talk to her. I wouldn't have been so adamant about NOT voting out Jacob had Stephen not been sketchy as all hell coming to me at like 8:30 being like "teehee wut if we did jacob uwu" cuz that was fucking stupid. He was like "well why does Jacob deserve to stay over Brien" and I was like why the fuck are you all of a sudden trying to keep Brien? For numbers? Yeah no. No Brien for you. He's gone now. So Stephen is high on my hit list. Also I just like do not have a connection to Vi, Timmy, Pat, and Joanna and like I've talked to Vi and Joanna but the convos are stale. I guess I can try messaging Pat. I might look like a doofus messaging Timmy this late in the game especially when I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me but I think I've decided I don't give a shit about social graces and might just message him anyway for funsies. The key word is might. For this vote though.......Maddie, Ricky, and Jacob are all vulnerable. Like at least Maddie puts in work but if I have to keep dragging Ricky and Jacob's lagging asses I'm gonna lose it. I'm love Ricky so much but like......please. Do smth.... I'm gonna break my back from carrying this alliance. Jay is also vulnerable btw. So that's 4 people I don't wanna target. Then there is Timmy and Madison. Will Madison vote out Timmy? Idk. That could be an issue. Because if she doesn't then I think it could end up being 6-6. Nnnnnn. So like if it's 6-6 that's gay because if it deadlocked then Timmy and whoever the other side voted would be safe. So like it would be a 1-4 chance that Madison goes over one of my allies. We need people to vote out Timmy. This is GAY. Or maybe we just scrap Jacob because he's useless. Who fuckin knows.

*spongebob timecard narrator voice* the next day: So apparently Madison voted Jacob? And Timmy voted Brien? I'm confused but idc lol maybe we can just get majority on Madison then

These people are so messy. So Jacob left my alliance with him and Madison but I’m messaging him (or at least trying to, he’s responding slowly but I think he’s at work so it’s all good) because I need him to know I didn’t vote for him. Madison did though and now I know she also voted Dylan and she thought I did too. I still want Madison in but like I don’t want to go to the end with her mainly bc I know she would be more likely than others to vote for me in the end. There’s plenty of reasons to get Madeleine out but she’s not winning immunities so the opportunity will be better with less people and these people are smart and will see that she is a social threat but yea she is easy to beat in immunity (although I haven’t been doing too well in immunities). I want Ricky gone bc I fucked up and never answered his message from a while ago so that is a dead relationship so he can go. Also I want Joanna gone sooner rather than later because I know she is smart.

so, gag of all gags, everyone in my core alliance is immune, woo. This means we dont have to be worried about a massive blindside, the only true ally i have thats vulnerable is Madison, but it seems the vote is aiming more at ricky, thank god. I like the guy but hes just one of the less-active people and I want to make sure we dont have an ftc full of goats who just drifted through. Kevin is the only one of my alliance im wary of, he has done great in challenges so far, and that can be dangerous the closer you get to FIC, so eventually he will lose immunity and ill have to betray him. Make it to f8, then the next time he loses hes gone.

https://youtu.be/qHZhhQIvOcU

CASUALTIES:

CAST ASSESSMENTS:

PART 1: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BF-qsugZ6RM&list=PLB-4yJ0EHce-bxHQVmQVdrV6tx36_6Jly&index=14

PART 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dF6SrpCKBrA&list=PLB-4yJ0EHce-bxHQVmQVdrV6tx36_6Jly&index=15

#Purrvivor

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roommateofmyimagination-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 15: Lots of Fucks are being given

✗ Adrian ✗

Midterms fuckin suck, training fucking sucks, Midterms and doing training all at once fucking sucks ass and can blow me. Everything currently going on in my life fucking sucks major monkey balls and i just wanna sleep. Normal human life was going great till midterms came around, that and finals are always fucking stressful. Drakul life was shitty from constantly having my ass handed to me by a skimpy ass bouncy as fuck cocky Bunny girl and a giant gravity using skimpy brutal savage cat. The flying lizard was a eh kinda thing, we both fucking sucked and didnt know what we were doing.

Now Im locked in a fucking closet by a white haired boy with cat ears and tail that matched parading around in fucking shorty short hot pants and a fucking cleavage window as a jacket cape bull shit. “aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAH FUCK!!” i screamed and started beating rapidly on the door that was prohibiting me from leaving, “SOMEONE LET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!” I started pounding on the door with my boot and trying to get whatever was blocking the door away.

“Adrian?” A familiar deep male’s voice sounded muffled from the other side of the door, “Pup, where are you?”

“Dem!?” I shouted and pounded on the door, “Closet!! I was locked in the closet!!” i heard footsteps jog over to me and the sound of a chair moving out of the way, the lock clicked and the door was open. Seeing demyan looking concerned and confused in front of me. “Demyan!!” I bounced up and wrapped my arms around him, “i dont think ive ever been so happy to see you.”

“I know pup, who locked you in here?” He patted my back then pulled me away.

“Some fucking magical white haired shitty cat thats gonna get an ass kicking.” I pulled up my shirt and exposed my charm. “Hop to it, i bet the others are fighting too.” he stared at me with disbelief on his face, he kneeled down and took the little charm in his mouth. Black surrounding me and when i looked up to see Demyan again I knew my magical outfit was on. “You coming to help?”

“No, i’ll supervise if we need to step in we will.” Demyan said with his hand on his hip.

“Alright, thanks.” I patted his shoulder and ran for the window that the cat man brought me through and jumped out the window.

“Pup!!!” Demyan shouted behind me, “You can not fly or levitate yet!!”

“HAHA!” i started laughing after i blinked to a nearby rooftop, “YOU SAID YET!! SO I WILL LEARN TO FLOAT!?” I pointed over at him, “just you watch me get stronger bub!”

I turned back around and continued to blink in different directions until i found where all the others were.I saw Pendragon standing on the edge of a rooftop. Making my way over to him i stood behind him as he stood on the railing. “Sup bats.” he turned and looked down at me, his red scales on his tail and wings reflecting the sunlight beautifully.

“You know whats going on?” I asked,putting a hand on my hip.

“Nah, i dont think Takeshi or Tsuyoi caused this either.” I turned to look across the buildings, “and im assuming you just made it here so that leaves you out.”

“And you’re talkin like you didn’t cause this either, so who could it have been?” I hopped up on the railing beside him. “Could it have been Lycaon?”

“Him or someone else we haven’t met yet.” He hummed then stared back at me, “what took you so long?”

“I was locked literally in a closet in my human form.” I groaned and played with my now black hair. “My partner came and rescued me though.”

“Partner as in your Magicae Socius? Or like...Partner.” the second time he said partner it came out in a vaguely southern like accent and he had a toothy grin on his face.

“Demyan came and saved me.” I shoved him in the arm.

He chuckled lightly, “sorry sorry.” and rubbed his arm where i shoved him. “We should go and help though, chance to see what the heroes are like in our little story.” he pointed down at two males who looked like they were talking with each other. I narrowed down on a man with long white hair with matching cat ears and tail.

“Oooooohohoh.” I laughed wickedly and felt a smirk creep on my lips, “the kitten is mine.” I bumped Pendragon’s arm with my fist, “you get the other one.”

“Sounds good to me.” he spread his wings out wide and dived down before taking off towards the other rooftop.

Teleporting my way over to the duo, i blinked right above them and the cats ears flicked and he and his buddy moved out of my way. “There ya are ya fucking kitten,” I landed between the two of them, “I’ve been lookin’ for your ass.” i brought my hand up a bit, the ink ability i so call it swirling up from my hand and walked towards the cat. A sudden rock pillar of some sort came at me. Flinching a bit i blinked to avoid the impact trying to get the cat once again and he dodged.

You want me, come and get me.” he said and jumped off the building.

I looked up and shouted, “KEEP THIS ONE BUSY BUDDY!” i ran towards the edge that the cat boy jumped off of.

“GOT IT!” Pendragon’s voice rang from behind me but was still clearly audible because of the heightened strength to my hearing from being a bat. The sound of the other man yelling from shock came shortly after Pendragon’s voice.

The fight with the cat man, who called himself Snowfang, was going quite well from my perspective. Got a kiss from him and got him to turn red from flirting, thats always a plus side right? He did more physical damage to me nailing me in the stomach and almost making me fall flat on my face or ass with the ice being every-fucking-where. All seemed well, until the view of Snowfang’s body was no longer in my vision and it was filled with black. But it wasn’t the same feeling as when i blink myself away from something, it felt different, felt more like Demyan when he teleported us around.

“What the hell?!” I shouted before the black disappeared and i saw Takeshi, and Pendragon in front of me, both of them facing me. Tsuyoi had his back to us and standing a bit of a distance away from us. His head was down and his shoulders relaxed. Kenaz standing off to his side and talking softly to him.

“So you’re finally here now too.” Takeshi spoke, she sounded like she was in pain.

“You okay?” I asked and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Y-yeah, i just have a pounding headache.” She closed her eyes and put her hand on her head.

I put my arm around her shoulders and brought her in closer to me, letting her rest her head on my chest and rubbing her back. “Is Tsuyoi okay?” I looked over at him.

“He seemed confused in his own weird way, not like Takeshi here.” Pendragon turned to look over at Tsuyoi’s back, “I think something with his hero happened and it made him over think something?”

“And you?” Takeshi spoke softly as she turned to look at Pendragon.

“Im fine, i think Drakul and I came in late enough we didn’t have long of a fight.” he scratched his head, “plus my scales are kinda armor like so i dont take much damage.”

“So whats going on here?” I turned to look over at Demyan who was huddled with Lappin and Ryaikum.

“We were told to pull you from the fight, other heroes were coming to assist and we would have been outnumbered.” demyan sounded urked from how he was talking. He turned to look over at Kenaz who was walking toward us with Tsuyoi at his side. “Kenaz, could any of this have-” Demyan spoke and was cut off from Kenaz.

He hissed sharply and glared at Demyan, “I didn’t tell anyone anything, so dont put the blame on me or my cub.”

“But you did come from-” Ryaikum spoke and was cut off as well.

Kenaz let out a long loud hiss with the mixture of a growl, “Like i said, i didn’t tell anyone anything!” His ears were standing straight up and his tail was puffed out from how angry he was getting. “This was not my fault or Tsuyoi’s, we did nothing wrong.” he dropped his tail and his ears, still glaring, “if anything, we should assume that this mess was caused by someone who isn’t here.”

“The only person i know who isn’t here whos on our side is that werewolf kid, Lycaon.” I spoke still holding onto Takeshi. “Is there anyone else that could be a villain other than us five?”

Demyan spoke calmly, “we do not know, there could be.” He held his hand to his chin, “we do not all associate with each other, and that we have Kenaz here others are weary of him as well.”

“Why?” Pendragon spoke and Ryaikum walked over to him. “Did Ken do something wrong?”

The four of them were silent for a moment before Kenaz spoke with a defeated look and tone. “It does not concern you children.” He put a hand on Tsuyoi’s back, “we’re going home.”

“Tsuyoi, are you okay?” Pendragon asked and extended a hand and touched Aj’s arm gently.

He looked at Pendragon’s hand then up at his face, letting out a sigh, “yeah just...something happened and I’m just...thinking it over.” he rubbed the back of his head, “but Kenny and I should head home, everyone should rest up and tend to wounds given we dont have a healer.”

“Sounds good to me.” Lappin spoke and held his hands out to me for Takeshi. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. “She seems to be in a lot of mental pain so i should take her home and let her sleep.” He rubbed her head gently, “inform me if anything happens.” he snapped his fingers and a swirl of wing wrapped around them and when it disappeared they were gone.

“Yes, please do inform me as well.” Kenaz spoke, “and if this was caused because of me, i am sorry and i will watch myself.” He held onto Aj, a faint Orange light around them and breaking apart into little firefly like lights and they were gone.

Pendragon sighed heavily, “I feel bad for those two.” He sounded just as upset about this whole thing, “we should have helped sooner.”

“We did what we could.” I put a hand on his shoulder, “they should be fine, right? They are level two.”

“Yeah but who ever did that to Takeshi must just be as strong if not stronger than she is.” he looked down at his feet, “and Tsu, he...seemed hurt and confused but in an emotional way.”

I blinked and stared at him. Pendragon was covered in cuts and bruises himself and yet he showed no signs of being in pain himself, he was only showing concern towards Takeshi and Tsuyoi. “You catch on to things fast and care a lot dont you? Even with you being hurt like that.”

He sighed a little with a chuckle mixed in, “I care more about friends then i do myself.” he smiled, “you good?”

“Yeah, i think i just got a bruise on my stomach from being kicked.” I patted his shoulder and then ruffled up his hair, “we should head out too, rest up Pen.”

“Thanks you too.” He smiled at me and hit me on my shoulder gently.

I walked over to Demyan and he put a hand on my arm. Waving to Pendragon, the black smoke wrapped around Demyan and I and we were closer to the school buildings. Demyan helped me detransfrom and we stood in an alley between buildings. Pulling out my phone, i texted Val back. “So, Demyan, any idea whats going?”

“No.” He mumbled and leaned back on the wall. “This was very sudden and has confused all of us.”

“Why do you think its Ken’s fault?” I continued to text Val back, “what did he do?”

“Kenaz is not like us.” He said flatly, “he use to be on the Hero side then came to our side, so many of do not trust him completely.”

“Do you trust him, you allow him to train with us.” I leaned against the wall beside him and pulled out my pack of cigarettes, lighting one and holding it in my mouth.

“I trust him more than others.” He tilted his head back and looked at the sky, “I do not allow him to train with you young ones, i am not the leader of the four of us.”

“So you guys just dont trust him cuz you think he’s a spy?” I took in a deep inhale and let it out, “Seems kinda shitty but logical.”

“How do you think it is a bad thing?” He turned to look at me. “It is valid we think that he is a spy.”

“Yeah but,” I paused looked at my feet, “you’re judging him by who he was or even is. Seems low of you guys.”

“We are not the good ones here, pup.” He mumbled and turned away from me.

“But you dont seem like complete bad guys.” I took in another inhale and let it out through my nose, “Like pendragon. He’s probably got his own dark issues, but he seems like a nice guy.” I turned my head to look over at him and he was looking at me. “See what i mean? Maybe its us whos not doing something right?”

“Hmm.” he hummed, “you could be right but we will talk about this another time.” he poofed into his little bat form and crawled into my pocket.

Dropping my cigarette on the ground and stepping on it. I walked to our building and up the stairs. When i got inside, i saw Val had been hurt, blaming it on the explosions that happened earlier with the fighting. He argued with me about the help and if he needed to go to the hospital. I got to help him patch up and had him let me hold a cold towel against his side. He eventually passed out on his bed with Aero on his stomach.

I sat on the edge of his bed staring at him. Brushing his bangs from his face, “I hope he’s not too hurt.” I looked over at Aero who meowed softly at me. “Mind if i help ya heal him?”i smiled down at her, she tilted her little head to the side and meowed once more. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I picked her up gently and put her to the side of Val. Running a hand down his side, i gave him kisses down his body and anywhere that had a cut or bruise. I looked over at Aero who blinked slowly at me and she crawled back onto his stomach,“Kisses always make things better, princess.” I rubbed her head and down her back and gave her a soft kiss on the head. “Take care of him.” I got up and brought his blankets over his legs.

Demyan sat on my dresser and squeaked at me. “Do i need to kiss you too?” I chuckled and rubbed his little head. He walked around in a circle on the top of the dresser and stopped. Leaning down i gave his little head a kiss and walked to the bathroom. Taking a quick warm shower. I checked my stomach and there was a minor but large bruise from Snowfang’s kick right above the chain that hung snug to my body. Running a hand over my stomach, i walked out and got dressed in a pair of loose sweatpants and crawled into bed. Plugging my earbuds in to my phone and turning some music on softly, sticking one bud in my ear. “You sleeping with me demyan?” I asked and looked at him. He flapped his wings and bounced over to my bed and crawled onto my pillow by my face. “Night little dude.”

Waking up the next morning, i ripped my earbuds from my head and looked over and Val wasn’t in his bed. Yawning and getting up, i walked to the living space and saw Val with his cat. Waving at them, i went to the bathroom cuz i had to fucking pee and i am not very social until after i pee then all is good in the morning.

I talked with Val for a bit before going back to the bedroom and getting on my bed and sitting against the wall with my laptop and having my headphones in. Val came into the room a bit after to change, and i quickly glanced up to see him change and watched him a bit before looking back down at my laptop. Demyan sitting on the bed beside me.

Demyan must have heard the door click shut because he poofed into his human form and sat on the bed beside me. “What are you working on?” He leaned down against my shoulder and looked at my screen, pulling my earbud out of my ear.

“Something for my photo class.” i mumbled. “Teacher wants us to write ideas down for what we wanna do for projects, or things we enjoy taking photos of.”

“And you can not write this?” he asked and played with a bit of my hair.

“My handwriting sucks.” i continued to mumble and work on my list.

Demyan picked his head up and looked out the window by my bed. He put a hand on my shoulder, “adrian, we have to go.” he sounded shocked.

“Huh?” I looked over at him and his amber eyes were wide and he was staring out the window, “why?” moving my laptop and trying to turn to look at what he saw.

“Just believe me, pup. We have to leave.” He crawled off the bed and ran for the front door.

“Woah woah mister you have to change!” I shoved my laptop onto my bed and got up, “plus im not dressed to go out.”

“Then get dressed then pup.” He hissed and snapped his fingers, black wrapping around him and he was wearing modern clothes. A loose white tshirt that showed a lot of his collarbone, Black skinny jeans over black sneakers. His ears were rounded like mine were as well. “Please hurry.” He sounded like he was really in a rush.

“Fine fine!” I grabbed a pair of fresh underwear, my own jeans that were torn, and through on a light zip up jacket and zipped it up enough that most of my chest was covered. Demyan jogged to the door and pulled it open, leaving me in the bedroom. “Aaaaaah!” I bounced and grabbed my phone, wallet, and keys. Grabbing a pair of shoes that was easy to pull on and headed out after demyan. When i was by the stairs Demyan was already mostly down them. “Demyan! Wait the fuck up!” I jogged down the stairs as fast and carefully as i could.

“We can not wait!” He yelled back at me and then stopped turning around and looking for something. “Your phone, can you contact Valentine?” He grabbed my shoulders when i reached him.

“Uh yeah, sure?” I pulled out my phone and clicked on the little red velvet cupcake that i had for Val’s contact picture and pressed call, holding the phone to my ear. It rang several times and i eventually just got his voice mail. “He didn’t answer….”

“Fuck!” Demyan hissed, “then we will look for them the old fashion way.” He let go of me and took off running.

“Wait, FUCKIN HOLD UP!!” I shouted and stuffed my phone back in my pocket.

I ran after Demyan. He was faster than i thought he would be. He was fit yeah and had long legs, but holy shit he’s fucking Fast as hell. I could barely keep up and he didn’t look like he had to catch his breath. He weaved gracefully around people and through a crowd. People would look back after Demyan ran past to see why he was running and would move out of the way for me to pass by as well. We ran around almost the whole campus before Demyan stopped to catch his breath. He stood straight and his chest rising and falling.

I made my way up next to him and put my hands on my knees, “holy shit...you’re fast.”

“Pup, please where do you think they went?” he panted and put a hand behind his head, fucking with his hair.

“We’re looking for Val?” I stood up and leaned back, with my hands on my lower back.

“Yes, and the woman he was with.” Demyan took in a sharp breath.

“Why do you care so much?” I asked and turned to look over at him.

He wasn’t even horribly sweaty, but he pulled his shirt up to touch his face and exposed his stomach. “Remember about the woman i told you about?” He asked and dropped his hand down, i nodded to him. “I think i saw someone who looked like her, and i must know.”

I hummed and pondered where Val could have taken this woman. “Hmmm, theres a lake here by the school, could have gone there.”

“Lead?” he raised his brow at me.

Groaning, i patted his shoulder and took off behind him. He followed shortly behind me and kept up a good pace to stay just behind me. When the lake came into view is when he touched my back and ran ahead of me at that stupid fast pace. He ran past me and weaved through some trees. I booked it and tried to keep up with him, and i did, and it meant me running square into his back and he didn’t flinch.

I backed off him and looked around him, seeing Val stare wide eyed between this woman and Demyan. The woman was really fucking beautiful and demyan staring at her seemed totally normal. I looked over at Val and he wordlessly motioned me to come with him. I walked towards val quietly and he put his hands on my back and pushed me away from them.

“We’re going to leave them be.” He giggled and we walked down on a graveled path that went around the lake.

“Uh, yeah okay.” I mumbled and looked back at the two of them, still staring at each other.

Val looked back with me as we walked, and he let out a soft giggle when the woman Tackled Demyan to the ground. He grabbed me by my arm and dragged me around to the other side of the lake where we could see them but not hear. When we made it over we both saw that they were kissing and Val made me look away, saying things like it was rude to watch them.

“So she a friend of yours?” I asked, plopping down on the grass and pulling Valentine down with me.

He sat down close behind me, “Yeah she’s one of my best friends.” he had a stupid happy smile on her face.

“Hmm, and that cat anklet?” I asked and looked at his legs.

“She gave it to me as a friendship thing.” he smiled happily at me, “and that man, hes?”

“My friend that i dont get to hang out with often. Just happened to meet up with him soon after you left.” I put my my cheek in my hand.

“And why did you run here?” He chuckled and held his feet in butterfly position.

“He’s crazy.” I said flatly.

“Thats it?” Val giggled.

“Yep.” I turned to face him with a stupid toothy grin. “I wonder what they’re talking about.”

⧫--Demyan--⧫

Adrian and Valentine decided to give Aerowen and I our space. I stared at her wordlessly. She was missing her white cat ears and her fluffy white tail, dressed in modern clothing, similar to myself but she looked more put together in her capri blue jeans, purple crop top that showed too much of her stomach and framed her chest in a….lack of better words highly pleasant way, blue jean crop jacket that hid some of her torso, and black flats. She looked just as beautiful with this look as the day i first met her. No matter her form, no matter what she wore, she was still devine looking stood out so much with the long white hair that showed her yellow eyes like they were jewels.

“Ah, excuse me princess.” I mumbled and bowed my head to her, “I should not be staring at you in such a way.” I looked down at my feet and avoided eye contact with her.

“Demyan, stand up please. I never want you to bow to me.” she spoke softly and i heard her feet walking towards me. Her black flats came into my view.

Slowly picking my head up to look at her, when I meet her eyes she had a large smile on her face and her arms were outstretched towards me on each side of my head.She jumped up and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Ah, Princess!” I quickly wrapped my arms around her but her sudden jump and her weight coming at me caused me to fall backwards in the grass. Her chest was pressed closely to mine, her body laying ontop of me with her legs between mine. She had her face buried in the swoop of my neck before picking her head up to look at me with the same smile on her face. It was such a soft smile, her lips shining from the little bit of gloss she had on. Her eyes shined just as her lips did, she looked so happy….and so beautiful. “Oh, my princess.” I took my hands off her waist and put a hand on each side of her face, cupping her cheeks in my hands, “I have missed you so much.”

She let out a soft chuckle, “I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed you so so much.” she spoke sweetly, words sounding like silk. Her eyes softened and tears started to form at the outer corners.

Taking my thumb, i brushed her tears away before they rolled down her cheek. “My dear, please do not cry.” I smiled softly up at her, “I never wish to be a reason that you cry.” i tucked some of her long beautiful white hair behind her ear.

I patted her back and propped up on my elbows. She ran a hand over her eyes quickly before sitting up and resting on her knees between my legs, removing her plush chest from mine. Sitting up onto my bottom, i ran a hand through my hair and removed any grass shavings from the back of my hair. Aerowen chuckled softly in front of me. I scooted my body closer to her, bringing my knees up as if they were walls to keep Aerowen in place. She stared at me with soft eyes and a smile on her face. I took her face in my hands once more, she nuzzled her cheek in my hand briefly and looking up at me. I gently put my forehead to hers. Her eyes half lidded as she brought her chin up ever so slightly. I let out a shaky exhale, my bottom lip trembling a bit. Aerowen wrapped her arms around my neck her hand lacing up into my hair, pulling me down closer to her. Smiling lightly, i closed my eyes and closed the gap between us. Her soft lips pressed to mine, i pulled away slightly opening my mouth just a bit to have Aerowen’s lips capturing mine again and her tongue slipping into my mouth. Leaning into her kiss, i kissed her back passionately getting the same response from her. Her arms wrapping around my neck more, pressing our bodies together.She had a soft purr rumbling in her throat, humming softly as well.

Pulling away from her to breath by a bit, she leaned back closer to me. Chuckling softly, i put a finger gently against her soft plump wet lips, “Princess, as much as i have longed to do that, i must breath.”

She eyed me before giggling softly and leaned away from me, “How long have you been on earth? Where did you end up going after we were ripped away from each other?”

“I have not been here long, i have not kept track of the time to be honest.” I ran a hand through her hair. “After we were forced to part, i was being kept under watch. I was not allowed to leave the school grounds much if at all.” I butt my forehead to hers again. “My kingdom...believed i was betraying them, and i was leaking our secrets to you.” leaning away from her and cupping her face in my hands again, “Princess, what are you doing here? Your father he would never allow this.”

She looked down at the ground between us then up at me, putting her hands on my wrists, “I know he didn’t allow this, I’m sure he knows by now. But, I didn’t want to be stuck at school and I didn’t be forced back home. I was offered to come here and find a partner because of my high standings in the school so I took it.” she spoke firmly and the determination in her eyes burned brightly.

“But...princess...this is dangerous work.” I spoke softly taking my hands off her face and holding both of her hands between mine and bringing our hands to my lips. “I wish not to know you are risking your well being.” I put my forehead on her closed hands. “Especially if i were to be the one who was behind you getting hurt.”

“Demyan.” She spoke softly and her hands left mine to touch my face. “I will be fine, i found a strong partner.”

Those words are when a sudden thought hit me. I looked up at her with wide eyes, then pain hitting me in the heart. “My princess.” I held her hand in mine once more, “was your partner the same man who I found you with?”

She stared me deep in the eyes, her gaze being fierce and strong. It would make any other man quiver under her and bow. “It was yes, he may seem like he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but when it comes to protecting me there’s something that boils up in him that makes him stronger then others can imagine. He left me with you because he trusts you enough with me. But I know he’s watching.” she spoke sweetly and firmly at once.

Staring back at her with wide eyes, softening up by a bit. I chuckled to myself and leaned forward, placing my forehead on her shoulder, far to close to her chest that would upset anyone if they were to see. “Princess, you are in love with a fool of a man.”

“Excuse me?” She put her hands on my back, feeling like she dusted some grass off. “How so.”

“Because the man you saw me with, is my pup.” I wrapped my arms around her waist before turning my head and putting my face in the swoop of her neck. “And we have been together for so long now...and it has yet to hit me that when i heard that man call a white cat Aero it never dawned on me that that same cat would be the woman i love.”

She picked up my head with her hands, “Well, if they figure it out then they figure it out. Yes your pup is rough around the edges, but there’s a soft side to him that is being brought out by my kitten.” She giggled softly and ran her fingers through my bangs and pushing them back out of my face, “Who ever said I wanted a stuck up good boy anyways?”

Chuckling to myself slightly and putting my hand on my face, “Princess.” I let out a loud exhale and grabbed her by her waist and pulled her in close to me, her chest pressed to mine once again, and fell back onto my back once more, “You are too much for such a simple man like myself.” I smiled up at her, her white hair falling off her shoulders and draping both of our faces.

She laughed happily before moving her hair back and raising her brow at me, “Also, question, I haven’t seen my cousin Kenny in a while, you haven’t by any chance know where he is do you?”

“Princess, i do know where he has been.” I picked up a piece of her hair and brought it to my lips, “but i do not know if i wish to tell you, aside from that he is fine.”

She purred low and loud, “If you tell me I’ll give you a special wake up when they boys leave the apartment.” she had a wicked smile on her lips as she lowered her weight completely ontop of me and had a hand up to rest her cheek on.

Eyeing her, “My princess, i am a gentleman and you know this.” I put my hands behind my head and smirked at her, “I do not think your persuasion will work on me.”

She placed her lips on mine, kissing me softly, “Oh my love, I know where he is. I can tell who he is from a mile a way.” she touched the tip of her nose to mine, “He’s with someone I trust very much. as much as he torments her and he doesn’t know it.”

“Hmmm.” i hummed softly and put a hand on the back of her head and tilted my head to the side bringing her down closer. Kissing her once more, our lips parted and playing with each others tongue. “But can i trust you with him Princess?” I asked still smirking, “or must i distract you and keep you from him?” i leaned up to continue kissing her.

“You can trust him with me. He has strong senses. Even with him just watching us, he’s watching the area around us. He’s willing to expose himself to your pup if it means protecting

me. But I’m more than happy to be distracted by you.” she pulled away from me and brushed her thumb over my lips and removed some gloss that transfer over. “He is my ice prince and your pup has melted a part of his heart.”

“Oh but princess, if anyone knew of our relationship, everyone would know that i would never hurt you or cause anything to hurt you.” I brushed my hand over her cheek. “But, if we could, i would give all of me to keep you distracted in the best of ways.”

“And when that day comes, I’ll gladly take that distraction.” she propped herself off of me and turned and looked across the lake. Following her gaze i looked to see Adrian and Valentine talking and looking over at us, “How long with them do you think until they figure it out? Wanna take bets?” there was a hint of mischief in her voice, when i turned to look at her she had a wicked smile on her lips.

“Hmmm,” I hummed and thought, “princess this is not an activity you should partake in. but i think they will figure out soon.” I moved my body to slide out from under her and stood up, offering her my hand and helping her up.

“How long, you have to be specific my love?” She wrapped her hands around my waist and looked up at me.

“What are you willing to bet my princess?” I took her jacket in my hands and fixed it so it didn’t expose too much of her chest, to myself or anyone honestly, and fixing her hair so it laid neatly after our tumble.

She tapped her finger on her lip, “I”m willing to bet spending an entire day with you without Val, also allowing you to spend a day with my kitten as well. If that counts for a bet. If you would like me to bet something else I can do that.” she smiled up at me sweetly.

“Then i will bet my body.” i held her chin lightly and smiled, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “No rules applied, just you deciding what you want to do with me.” I kissed her cheek and pulled away from her, her face now coated with a soft pink blush and her eyes wide.

Her eyes narrowed and her smile spread on her lips as she stood on her toes and pressed close to me, bringing my head down so she could whisper, “Then it’s a deal my dark prince.”

Shivering at her whisper, i put my hands around her waist and pressed my lips to her neck. “Are we allowed to cheat and interfere?”

“Do you want me to lose that fast?” she chuckled happily and had her hand up to her mouth.

“No, in all honesty princess.” I kissed her jaw then behind her ear, “I wish to lose just that quickly.” I cupped the other side of her face and kissed her cheek, “I know that i just called myself a gentleman, but every man breaks eventually my dear.”

“So how long are you going to bet? I’m going to bet at least two weeks.” her face was slightly warmer from a small blush and she held her composure well.

“I will go with a month.” I turned to look over in their direction. “Hmm, yes, i’ll stand by that.”

“Then its a deal.” she smiled and held her hand out to me. “Lets shake on it.”

“But can we not seal the deal with a kiss?” I asked and tilted my head to the side, staring at her lips and glancing down just a bit at her chest before looking up.

She sighed lightly and shook her head “We can seal our deal with a kiss yes.” she brought her head up to look at me.

Taking that moment to my advantage, i pressed my lips to hers and kissed her passionately. She opened her mouth first and let me slip my tongue in her mouth. Putting my hands on her sides i held her close. We parted our kiss briefly just so we could move our heads to a different direction and continue the kiss from where we left off. Aerowen’s hands grabbed onto the front of my shirt as she smiled into our kiss. Putting my hands on her stomach, i pulled away from her and ended our kiss there.

Looking down at my feet then back up at her face through my black messy bangs, “My princess, i could kiss you endlessly.” licking my lips and tasting the lip gloss that was barely visible on her lips now after all of our kissing.

She tried to lean in back towards me and i kept her away just a little, she pouted a bit before smiling “If both of us are wrong, we share a kiss every day for the next month and I get to heal your boy whenever he comes home injured.”

“I will agree on the kissing, now as to healing my pup then that is up to him.” I chuckled lightly, “he is greatly disturbed by how you do that and i do not think he likes it much.”

“Well, I’m glad you approve half of it, because if you did or didnt, it didnt matter.” she smiled wickedly, “because i was going to heal your boy anyways no matter who told me yes or no.”

“That sounds very much like you, princess.” i played with her hair lightly.

“Can you start calling me by my name, demyan?” she softened her smile, “it feels so formal when you call me Princess all the time.”

Staring at her with wide eyes for a second, i smiled softly and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Even if you were not an actual princess, I would still call you my princess.” I turned my head ever so slightly and whispered, “or shall i call you my goddess now? You are so divine and beautiful, it would be easy for you to be one.”

“They day you call me Aero will be the day that no one will ever be able to pull me away from you. That’s the day where I will protect you with my honor and life.” she ran a hand under my chin and walked around me, after catching my eye and winking at me. I quickly turned around to try and grab her and she spun around just out of my grip. “You should go grab your pup and get back home.” she purred.

“And you?” I tried to grab her once more and she got out of my reach.

“I’ll grab my little kitten and we will finish what we had planned.” she smiled and walked back up to me. Putting her hands on my chest and dragging them down to my hips and she played with the top of my pants. “You look nice in tight pants too.”

“Thank you, princess.” i brought her hand up and kissed the back of her hand, “you look beautiful in everything.” dropping her hand i turned to look and see Adrian and val were still on the other side of the lake. Letting out a loud sharp whistle to get Adrian’s attention, he snapped his head and looked over at us. I waved for him to come this way. “I will see you later, my dear.”

⧫--------⧫

My phone vibrated in my pocket, pulling my phone out i got a text from Aj. ‘Dinner at our place on saturday sound aight?’

I showed my phone to Val, “sound good to you?”

“Yeah!” he smiled up at me, “should be fun!”

“I hope so.” I chuckled and replied back to Aj. A sharp loud whistle hit my ears just as i finished texting Aj back. Looking up i saw Demyan waving at us to come over. “Cmon, lets go.” I got up and dusted my ass off, waiting for Val to get up too.

We both walked over to Demyan and the pretty woman. Demyan put a hand on my back and dragged me off. “See ya later cupcake.” I held up a peace sign behind me for Val to see as we walked away. The walk back to the dorm was silent between us until we got inside and to the bedroom.

“Soooo?” I asked and flopped down on the bed.

“Hm?” Demyan turned and looked at me, snapping his fingers and poofing into his usual human form. Black puff pants with his crop top jacket thing and his pointed ears.

“Did it go well?” I grinned stupidly up at him. “You seemed to be kissing a lot.”

“It did, it went very well.” He blushed a little, “thank you for coming with me.”

“No problem, just next time lets go a little slower, your fast as fuck.” I fell onto my back on the bed and kicked my shoes off.

“Actually, you will be training more for that reason.” he smiled wickedly, “you have no stamina in you, so on your break you will be working on that.”

“Excuse me?!” I popped up, “cant i have this week off?”

“No.” he sad flatly and held his smirk on his face.

“Fuck you.” I held my middle finger up and fell back on my bed. “Fine, only if its worth it.”

“It will.” he hummed happily, “I will give you an upgrade if you get stronger.” He walked between my legs and leaned over me, his hands on either side of my body, staring down at me with those intense amber eyes and his black messy hair hanging down. “Sounds fun does it not?”

I started up at him smirked, “Oh fuck yeah.”

#Adrian Howell #Valentine Hicks #Demyan #Aerowen #Magical boys/girl

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