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fanfictiondreamscape · 4 years ago

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First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 6)

Title: First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 6) aww crap the final part-

Genre: floof. Mega floof.

Pairing: Ushijima/Eita/Tendou/Shirabu/Goshiki x Reader (all separate)

Notes: Sadly, this is the end of the Haikyuu boys series! I hate typing that up, but it’s the truth. And I can still do some of these for other fandoms if you readers like these. Also, I think I’m going to make a directory once I get some requests posted (following this, of course). Would that make things easier for people to find the request rules and masterlist? Probably - why would I even bother asking that question?

Also, I apologize for the amount of cursing in this. I’ve been trying to cut back on it when writing, but it slips sometimes. Again, terribly sorry!

Anyway, read on if you wish! I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Masterlist

Ushijima Wakatoshi

ushijima is a simple and straightforward man

so, it can be easy to assume that he’d want someone that is very straightforward and simple as well.

that doesn’t immediately translate to them being stoic and constantly stone-faced, though.

someone that can be considered blunt (to a fault), yet still remains very sociable and charismatic.

yep, they’d be somewhat popular for their aura.

otherwise, i imagine that he’d want to the kiss to happen in private.

but, something would happen during it that’d kind of ruin that.

like, imagine that the two of you are on a date.

something very easy-going, maybe even a study date.

there’s definitely some small snacking going on, though.

so like,

the two of you would be reviewing your notes.

the both of you had been at it for a bit of time, too.

you were getting tired, you could tell that he was too, and you were determined to fix this.

so, your plan?

you discreetly pull your bag over to your side.

while he didn’t notice the initial action, he was pulled from his study-coma due to the sound of a zipper.

he didn’t look over his shoulder until you had tapped his bicep

(that felt absolutely beaUTIFUL MY GOD-)

you had a simper on as you waved a small gift card to the nearest fast food restaurant,

“are you getting hungry, too? i’ll pay.”

he glanced down at his unfinished work, and while he did have second thoughts

he did realize that he was hungry when his stomach rumbled.

it embarassed him a little, but he knew that he could trust you enough to be vulnerable

(as vulnerable as he felt being around you)

his lips twitched up into a small smile, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

you grabbed his limp hand and pulled him from his seated position

while the normal person may have shied away, you’re dating the tall guy

so his height led to him towering over you

and you found the whole scene to be adorable

(as did he, but he wouldn’t say that - he still had a filter of a kind)

either way, the walk to the random restaurant was spent in comfortable silence

(aside from the grumbling stomach sound.)

(seriously - both of your stomachs were growling obnoxiously loud, and it left you surprised as to why not a single person had even given you nasty looks.)

(just some odd food for thought - holy shit. food.)

ANYWAY

when you reach the place, you order your food

it couldn’t have taken any longer to come out

and you were getting a little impatient

a little habit you had whenever you were starting to become agitated was making him melt,

you were starting to scrunch your nose up and mess around with your fingers.

you were also starting to pout.

(yeah, that even sounds adorable. to him, the view is an absolute masterpiece.)

when the food comes out, though

your face lights up from the previous expression, and the way you just glowed in the sun-

holy-

he would die from a cuteness overload, and it’d be your fault.

so, you may have momentarily broken ushiwaka.

good job!

either way, you two got the food and had made quick succession of walking back to your work to sit and relax.

and yes, while the food was greasy and slightly disgusting, it was quick and allowed you more time to do your work.

though you were unaware of his actions when eating, he was almost too aware of yours.

you were actually going through the food somewhat cleanly, but the way that you smiled when you made eye contact with the food

(if that would even be possible)

either way, your lips curled up in the most sweet expression, and

holy-

“you look cute.”

you paused.

‘did he really just say that?’

you blushed, of course

you blinked, you stood and you came to

“r-really?”

he nods, you blush brighter, and he decides that he just has to do it now.

“can i...”

his ears are turning red as he’s speaking.

“can i kiss you?”

you nod, and he awkwardly reaches up to cup your cheek

you turn even redder and he leans in

but he pauses, and you finish the motion for him.

you both are shocked by the actions that both of you had just done

but the feeling of each others lips together?

yeah, that’s forgotten.

you both get a little closer, a little more rough.

there is a lot of control in it, though that doesn’t negate any of the messiness that comes with something like this.

two teenagers that haven’t had a real relationship or kiss, just doing this for the first time?

yeah, this is gonna be a bit of a tough ride.

but as tough as it is, it still manages to be very loving.

the two of you indulge in the moment since, honestly, both of you have some trouble with your emotions.

it doesn’t last though.

and it’s not because of you two, no-

it’s because of tendou.

the boy barges in on you two, flips his shit, and jumps the gun immediately.

you laugh, ushiwaka smiles (see above, absolutely precious)

and everything just slowly gets a little more comfortable between you two following the kiss.

overall, very awkward and very inexperienced.

but still very loving and controlled, with the passion still coming through.

and the scenery?

couldn’t be more perfect.

private (somewhat), intimate, and most definitely quiet.

perfect for the both of you.

(plus, you got to tease the living crap out of the giant guess monster afterwards due to his reaction.)

(jokes on him, he talks a big game in this area, but he can’t own up.)

Semi Eita

boy here is a savage

and a borderline tsundere

so, i find that he might be attracted to someone similar to him in that sense

very competitive, very passionate, and very hot-headed

but definitely better with their emotions than he is

they’d be more open to letting their emotions out, but they’d also radiate bbe

(read: bad bitch energy in spades)

which i also think would mean that the first kiss would happen in an area that would be very emotional to the two of you

possibly a first date spot, possibly a spot where you two just share some huge memories (aside from the first date spot)

but it also wouldn’t happen right out of the gate

nor would it be completely happy

like, imagine this

sooo

gym.

the volleyball gym.

you two had your first run-in with each other there

you both also had your first date with each other here

(just, i imagine that there would be something super attractive and glorious about the gym, possibly a skylight or something under the stars)

(seriously. can’t leave school grounds? picnic in the gym under the stars, people will think you’re helping me train.)

and to top all of that off, that was where tendou and goshiki pushed you two into each others arms and made you confess to the other.

(yep, you guessed it - you’re a manager, and a 3rd year)

and, with you being a third year-

here you are.

you two are nearing graduation,

you’ve been dating a for around a couple months,

and you both wanted to relive your memories before you break away from the high school that you’ve attended since you were younger

so, yeah

a very emotional day and following.

so, the both of you had just gone to the cafeteria, the old dorms rooms that were looking barren

seriously, the rooms that the third years had been in were getting cleaned before graduation

which just so happened to be up and coming within the business week.

yeah, cue the tears

(oh wait, you already cried a fair amount a while ago and you’re saving the remaining ones for graduation.)

either way, you were pretty down about the whole thing

as was semi

and the both of you just needed the comfort of each other

just visiting the places that brought you joy over the years.

the gym was the final spot, and it was one that the both of you had silently agreed upon visiting.

the stars were out and the time was brushing 10 pm

you two had gone through the motions throughout the day, but now?

you both wanted nothing but to imagine a night under the stars, much like the past dances

so you did

you had pulled your phone out of your pocket, set it right up on full volume

and played a slow song

semi had wrapped his arms around your waist, yours around his shoulders

the comfortable aura from the both of you made you both calm down

and allowed the both of you to get lost in the moment

you were able to ignore the looming feeling of sadness that would most definitely follow

so, that being done, you got lost in each other under the stars

you were eyeing the way his eyes seemed so drawn into yours, the eye contact being so intense

the way your bodies just molded together

the way the music made the atmosphere lighten up

just...

an overall perfect moment.

and here, here is where that perfect moment was taken advantage of.

“can i kiss you?”

you paused for a second and blushed, but!

“yes, semi, you can.”

you leaned up and kissed him.

he smirked when you did it, but responded nonetheless

and, in typical semi eita fashion, it was very passionate.

you were just as driven as him, so your response was equal to his

there was no making out or any trace of a french kiss, but

it was super sweet and loving, despite the snarky attitude the two of you carried.

it lasted a fair while, and since it was under the night sky

and was also in an area that was secluded, especially at that time of night.

so yeah, when you two pulled away, you both went on with your action of slow dancing under the stars for the second time.

so, overall?

very sweet, as well as passionate

and yes, while i did hc them to happen during an emotional time,

the two of you would take the comfort you feel from each other, and manifest that into the kiss

(and its also an emotional moment for people that act like semi and his s/o’s headcanon).

but, again,

very long, passionate, loving, and romantic

(holy shit, who would’ve guessed-)

and it was everything you could have asked for while slow dancing with each other

under the moonlight

with the stars reflecting the other

beautiful. just beautiful. and perfect.

Tendou Satori

tendou is a tease, right out.

he’d want a s/o that can dish out what they can take.

and that includes any jokes, “insults”, and pick-up lines that are thrown to either of you.

so, someone witty (and a little sarcastic)

also athletic.

for some reason, i can just imagine the two of them just running around for the hell of it

like racing each other into grocery stores or the mall, maybe even the gym

and like, measuring up enough to tie on race wins.

they’d definitely be shorter, but their stamina would be nearly endless

but the kiss i feel would come up out of the blue.

possibly in the hallways to tease the living crap out of each other in the middle of an “insult” battle

so, basically just imagine the two of them are walking from lunch

and they were going at it

semi, reon, and ushijima were starting to get annoyed, but they found of the things you were throwing at each other

still doesn’t make it any less annoying

(honestly, they were just staying close to see who would win or call it time-out before they reached class.)

“so what, tall-ass? at least i don’t have to duck when walking.”

“yeah, and you? i don’t have to worry about jumping whenever i have to avoid you when you’re biting ankles.”

“oh, this again?”

i think you get it.

either way, things were taking a turn for the more impulsive

you had begun to target his shonen, he had begun to target your movie genre obsession

yeah, when you both hit those targets?

things were getting bad.

so, being the parental figure that he is, semi had tried to break it up

and he did...

“guys, calm down. i don’t want to have to separate you in the damned hallways.”

you two quieted down for a bit and laid off the borderline offensive banter

“thank you.”

but semi’s attempt only lasted for a few seconds.

“okay, but seriously, you still aren’t caught up on the last volume, what makes you think you have the right to-”

“one more word, and i’ll kiss you.”

the five of you were still walking, but 80% of the group straight was caught off guard.

you, despite being part of the 80%, still refused to back down when you were still shocked

“oh really?”

“yep. keep going, i dare you.”

“you don’t have the guts.”

“you sure about that, doll?”

“oh, damn straight i am.”

“keep it up.”

“gladly.”

this continued on for a while, pushing to an end when you two reached the hallway for your classes

but tendou was determined.

and time was still plentiful.

so when you spoke next, well...

“okay, just face it you won’t-”

and he kissed you.

straight up, in the hallway, in front of the eyes of many students.

and he wasn’t shy about it in the slightest

tendou went full messy on you, you responding similarly.

the shock of it definitely wore off quickly for you.

it was filled to the brim with passion

and yes, while it was a ‘shut up’ tactic,

it worked wonders for the both of you, seeing as this type of stuff would have been expected of the both of you

didn’t make it any less loving though

(at least, after the initial force.)

so, if you know what i mean, this lasted for a while.

(translation: make out session)

yep, you two straight up shared tongue in the hallway

(and you may have been pulled closer to him and laid against the wall as the people started to disperse following the action and it’s suddenness)

just, quite literally, a surprising mess.

and it took a few to get you two away from each other

(literally, semi stayed behind to try and pry you guys apart but was dismissed when a teacher had come by the scene.)

(yep, you two got pried apart and given a warning)

10/10, would do it again.

overall, though-

again, 10/10, would do it again

seriously.

that kiss is passionate, messy, and borderline sexual

BUT

that doesn’t mean that it is any less loving

(see above for author here’s repetition of the same sentence)

plus the breathlessness that comes with the whole experience

holy shit, yes

plus the scenario in which it happened as well as the setting?

oddly perfect for the two of you

casual, comfortable, and open

(yeah, i can’t imagine the kiss happening anywhere but at school don’t @ me)

Shirabu Kenjiro

first things first, this boy is a hardass.

but he’s also the only member of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team that didn’t get in on an athletic scholarship.

so, that being said, his s/o would most likely be someone highly intelligent

like, if he’s in class 4, they’d either be in the same class or a higher one

either way, highly intelligent

i also have the feeling that he’d have to have run-ins with them near constantly

think like, team manager?

they’d would also be very introverted and responsible

he already was drawn to their intelligence, what else could be asked aside from basic college-prep class student other than responsibility?

and the introversion is simply because the man is a man of action, i’d reckon

otherwise, for the kiss.

well, it’s in the library.

the two of you had decided to study together before the exams

you both got in on academic scholarships, so you both had to keep the grades up.

it didn’t necessarily help that the two of you also had little time on your hands because of volleyball practice and games.

(stress runs high in this household, y’know?)

either way, you find a way to work around the stress and go on your merry little studying way

(AKA ‘hope-to-god-that-i-don’t-absolutely-lose-my-mind-before-exams’ way)

besides the point, you had been wanting to kiss him as of late.

seriously, you two had been together for a good few months now

and you both wanted to take things slow

but the perfect moment had come and go many, many times

and you were starting to get a little POed.

‘does he not want to kiss me?’

‘does he not like kisses?’

‘does he not like me that much?’

yeah, you are intelligent but you are also pretty insecure

(and also very pretty, but since people find your straight face kind of terrifying, not many of them talk to you - not like you care, after all.)

and while none of that is true, from his perspective, of course

shirabu is just shy.

yep, that’s all it is.

he’s seen the moments, he’s wanted to take the chances

but things just haven’t worked out for him.

it’s always at the worst times, and frankly-

it was getting annoying for the both of you.

for different reasons, of course

but annoying nonetheless.

either way, you two came to the library to study, not make out in the surprisingly hidden area that you had chosen-

ANYWAY

you both got down to business quick.

flashcards, notes, textbooks, you name it

you needed it, you had it

and the both of you had an amazing grasp on the subject matter

so you both went about your normal study process

(that had been modified to match the library)

things had been going smoothly for a while.

there had been a few slip ups, on both ends, but there was still a few more days beforehand and you both planned to tear into the study material as they continued

so you’d both be fine in the long run.

you still weren’t happy with it, though.

it’s not a surprise that you two had decided to take a small break to hone and get some water.

and while shirabu took the water and small snack route, you took the opposite

you had shoved your face into your notes and reviewed what you got wrong, even going to the extent to annotate the notes you already had with extra information from his notes and the subject textbook.

shirabu had been watching you as you concentrated,

eyes grazing over the information with intensity that only intrigued him

(holy shit, i sound like i’m preaching something, why am i like this-)

the way your bright eyes practically glowed with drive

god, it drove him wild.

and whether it was the stress coming to a head, or just the look in your eyes-

hell, maybe even the lack of care that you had for your health-

he just had to kiss you

(distraction, aid, or not)

he knew that now was the perfect time, that this moment would be the best time to do it

so he knew he had to suck it up

and that he did.

he was still hesitant in his approach, though.

“s/o, look at me.”

“hmm? whaddaya nee-”

straight up smooches you midsentence.

the uncharacteristically bold move shocks you, but he makes it quick

(or at least quick enough to distract you from overworking yourself)

and as quick as it is, my god-

it is passionate.

veyr rough, very forceful,

but he was careful not to hurt you.

either way, the love and lack of hesitance came through.

and safe to say, the messiness was very prominent as well.

on one hand, though, you stopped pushing your head so hard to study

and you also managed to take the hint.

“so you felt that too?”

“yeah, i did. now stop studying and get some water, idiot.”

you chuckled at him, but did it nonetheless.

you two spent the rest of the time huddled closer together, as well.

(you two didn’t realize the third years peeking through the bookshelvesn watching this though)

(”my god, our little second years are growing up! T_T”)

overall, though

given the preciseness of the kiss, you both felt content with it for the time being

(i know, a short kiss despite the many times it failed? damn.)

but yeah, given the circumstance, it worked for the both of you.

the library setting, too, holy-

just, overall a great kiss

short, sweet, a little messy, and very shy

(just like your relationship lol)

(sidenote: you two got teased relentlessly by tendou, but semi shut it down quick.)

Goshiki Tsutomu

can we cover this first?

this boi is awkward.

yes, he’s driven. yes, he’s capable. and yes, he is intelligent.

but that doesn’t negate awkward.

this is why i think he’d have to know his s/o before dating them.

they would be aware of his little quirks and habits, as would he.

but they’d have to be much more sure of themselves in other areas in order to help push him forward

he does the same, of course, but he’d have an odd time handling it.

so yes, they’d have to be sure of themselves and, possibly, even motherly

patience and tolerance would be key to support this boy.

that being said, i have a feeling that he’d try to make the first kiss happen with a cliche romantic build up

i mean, he’s not stupid, but he most definitely is unaware of how to deal with romantic endeavors.

(that is actually kind of adorable, but hey - he’s oblivious to things like this, so tell him.)

otherwise, he started the date off in a typical manner.

he had walked up to get you at around 5 pm

you had the okay to skip dinner with your family/guardian for the night, you were prepped and ready in your flowing outfit \

(vague for personal reference)

he had also come prepared, dressed nicely and clean

holding your favorite flowers in his hand, possibly even some small candies for you (that are also your favorite)

just overall, you could tell he had paid attention to the things that you liked

(no duh though, you two have been friends for years).

either way, he had everything planned.

and it started off with a picnic at the park.

what else would he hold the candies in?

you thought the basket he was using was a little oversized for candies alone

and you were right.

he had everything that he could bring (and knew wouldn’t rot) with him.

what he didn’t know is that there was none of the food he had originally packed in the basket

and the blanket he had prepared wasn’t there

(his mom had taken the basket he was supposed to use and he took the one she had - potluck problems).

safe to say, you both didn’t really like the food in the basket

and worse yet? the food was nasty with a capital N

yeah, that part of the plan was bust.

your alternative?

McDonald’s.

some small amount of money for some small amount of fast food?

good enough.

not for goshiki, but hey - what can you do?

otherwise, his next plan was fairly simple.

he’d planned to meet his mother at the amusement park later that night to trade off the basket and enjoy some rides with you.

(and his plan included the ferris wheel)

anyway, since the ‘meal’ didn’t last long, you settled for walking through town.

and you did, but...

it rained.

and the both of you got soaked.

it didn’t last long, thankfullly, but boy oh boy...

goshiki was starting to get a little depressed.

you noticed, and reached for his hand.

if things weren’t working out, you’d find a way to replace it.

right now, it was calling your older sibling to come and get you from where you were and taking you to his flat

(it was the closest)

either way, he had come by and two had decided to change into off-hand clothing that had been stored there

(you left some clothes there for when you wanted to see your brother and fell asleep, your brother had some old clothing that fit goshiki)

either way, the awkwardness settled

your brother left you two to your own devices as he had some quick college assignments to complete.

so you two decided to watch a tv show you both liked while you waited.

eventually, it happened as such.

your brother had left his room after it was complete and, to keep some secrecy, pulled your brother aside to tell him the plan.

he agreed, and goshiki’s first kiss plan held a chance.

eventually, as 7:30 rolled around and it started to get dark, your brother told you two to get your stuff and get in the car

“we’re going to the carnival - y/n i’ll pay for whatever you need.”

you both just went along with it.

when you arrived, goshiki walked off for a little bit before running back to you and taking your hand in his.

your brother had already bought a good amount of tickets for you two to use, so you were in the clear.

you two had ran around, going on a rollercoaster even!

(you were smiling, goshiki was crying - good times)

but when night fully came upon the sky, he knew he had to act fast.

and, luckily, his luck didn’t screw him over.

the line to the ferris wheel was short, the sky was getting darker by the second, and he could see people setting up fireworks from his crappy vantage point below the hill.

‘perfect timing.’

and indeed it was.

you had been seated next to him and the ride had begun, and the fireworks had been set off.

the lights were reflecting, and the pressure of the night just hit him square in the face.

“hey, s/o, i’m sorry about today.”

“what do you mean?”

“the picnic, the walk...it didn’t work out the way i wanted it to and i’m sorry for that.”

you laughed, making eye contact with him.

your bright eyes made him blush and your smile made him melt.

it didn’t help that the neon lights and the fireworks were reflecting in the depths of your eyes.

he knew that the time was now, but he was afraid that if he took the bold chance, you’d push him away.

you, on the other hand, had a completely different idea.

when he had directed his attention to the floor of the compartment you two were in, you had reached for his chin and pulled his face to meet yours.

you straight up kissed him.

this shocked the boy, but he went along with it and cupped your cheek in his hand as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled yourself closer to him

it got more passionate, and much more messy.

hell, you didn’t even realize how breathless the two of you were until the loudest firework went off right as you two reached the top.

you pulled away from each other then

and while the two of you were bright red, you still cuddled up closer to the other for as long as you could before you both had to go home.

but, just in general, holy-

this boy’s whole attempt was the cutest thing, and the kiss?

same way.

honestly, it was shy and so timid,

but it held the messiness of the whole thing still-

it was still immature, no matter the whole ordeal.

otherwise, both of your romantic fantasies were met to the highest standard when you had kissed on the ferris wheel just-

mwah!

138 notes · View notes

mersuperwholocked-lowlife · 5 years ago

Text

Heart Rate

Word Count: 1,540

Characters: Stefan Salvatore, Damon Salvatore, Reader

Pairings: Damon Salvatore x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: angst, some fluff

A/N: I know this sucks sorryyy

Masterlist

You walked to the front door nervously, debating whether or not you were gonna walk in.

Maybe Lexi’s just busy you thought to yourself.

Lexi was your mom’s closest friend and your legal guardian. She lived with you in California and came to Mystic Falls for her best friend, Stefan’s birthday. She stopped replying to your texts and didn't pick up your calls.

You became worried, you hated being alone, to begin with. And you didn't want to come here. From what Lexi told you, it was dangerous.

You took a deep breath, as you knocked on the front door of the Salvatore Boarding House.

“Well, hello there. And who are you?” a man smirked, leaning against the doorway.

“Uhm, are you Stefan?” you asked him.

He paused before replying.

“Yes, yes I am. Stefan Salvatore,” he smiled at you.

For some reason, you didn't believe him. You always imagined Stefan with brown hair, for starters, and this man had black hair. Something about him made you uncomfortable.

“Uhm,” you stuttered.

“Who’s there?” another voice asked, walking to the doorway.

“Some kid,” he replied.

“Holy crap. You’re (Y/N), right?” he asked.

It looked like Lexi told Stefan about you.

You nodded your head.

“I’m Stefan. You can come in. Damon, go away,” Stefan signed.

You looked confused as your heart was racing, fast.

“I-I thought he was Stefan,” you said nervously.

“No, this is Damon. Damon, stop messing with her,” Stefan said.

“Y-You’re Damon Salvatore,” your heart was racing more. Lexi told you about him, and everything he did.

“Alright, you caught me. Pleasure to meet you,” he put his hand out.

You looked away from him, looking back to Stefan.

“I-Uhm, I’m looking for Lexi. She was supposed to be home last week,” you explained nervously.

You noticed Stefan’s face drop, as Damon looked away from you.

“And that’s my cue to leave you alone,” he walked out the door.

“Here, come in. I think it’s better if we talk inside,” Stefan said.

You nodded your head, walking into his house.

----

You tried to hold the tears that fell down from your face.

“L-Lexi told me she hated Damon,” you said softly.

“I know. But, she was my best friend. And I promised her I’d help you. Will you come live here with us?” he asked.

You froze at his question. Your anxiety was already bad enough, you were already jumpy, and very on-edge. Living under the same house as a murder, the same man who killed your friend wasn’t gonna help with that.

“Uhm,” you started.

“I know, Lexi told me everything about you. I’ll keep Damon away from you. You won’t have to see him if you want,” he said.

You sat there, thinking for a minute. Damon, the guy who killed Lexi, the crazed vampire psychopath, the man that you feared. You hadn't met him before this, and you didn't want to.

But Stefan, he was a good person, Lexi told you about him too. He’s barely killed anyone, he’s always tried his best to be good. Plus, he was Lexi’s best friend.

“O-Okay,” you nodded your head softly.

“That’s great. I’ll help you, this weekend, we’ll go get the rest of your things from California,” he said.

You nodded.

“Okay, and I’ll take you to your room,” he stood up, as you followed him.

----

“No, Damon. You’re not allowed to go near her,” Stefan said.

“Oh, come on, brother! Stop focusing on the past!” Damon groaned.

“I don't care. This kid is innocent, and she’s a good person. And she has terrible anxiety. You're gonna make her feel worse,” Stefan crosses his arms.

“I won't hurt her, brother,” Damon crosses his arms.

“And I don't trust you, brother,” Stefan mocked.

“You know, I gotta say, I’m kinda fond of this cheeky version of you,” Damon gave him a fake smile.

“Well, you better get used to it. Now, go to bed or something. Don't bother her,” Stefan crosses his arms, walking away.

----

Damon didn't really expect Stefan to stick to his words. He said he’d give it a few days, which turned into a few weeks, which became a few months.

You still barely talked to Damon, your heart racing out of fear whenever you did.

After some time, he would avoid you too. You felt bad, seeing him clearly hurt about ignoring him, but didn't know what to do.

Life at Mystic Falls wasn’t bad either. Stefan introduces you to his friends, all a year older than you. You felt some kind of bond with Caroline, the two of you becoming instantly close.

One night, Stefan decided to stay at Elena’s house, leaving you and Damon alone.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it, Stefan’s been trying to do whatever he can to help you, he deserved a night to himself.

Besides, it was only one night. Not much can happen.

Apparently, you were wrong.

They ran out of groceries, and as much as you hated being alone, you did it anyway. You went to the store to get some more eggs and milk.

You felt someone watching you, but you ignored it, trying to not overreact.

You sat in your car, starting it, but it wouldn't go. You checked to make sure your car was on, out of park. You looked outside your car, seeing the deflated tires.

Your heart was beating so fast, it could’ve jumped out of your chest and ran a 50K marathon.

You took your phone out of your pocket, about to call Stefan when you paused. He was out with his girlfriend, you couldn't bother him.

Sighing, you put your phone back.

“I-Is anyone there?” you called out, noticing a shadow move from behind you.

You turned around, only to be met with a blunt force knocking you out.

----

You walked into the Salvatore House, with a smile on your face.

“Oh, hey, I didn't know you went out. I’ll go upstairs if you want,” Damon said, seeing you walk in.

“Why would I want that? I don't care,” you shrugged.

“Right,” Damon raised an eyebrow, not believing you were okay.

He listened to your heartbeat, noticing it sounded different.

It was steady. It was steady while you were talking to him.

“Is everything alright?” you asked him.

“Just peachy,” he gave you a smile.

He took out his phone, dialing your number.

He heard your phone ringing in the room.

Damn it, he thought.

He ran to you, pushing you against the wall.

“Damon! What the hell?” you gasped.

“Where’s (Y/N),” he said.

“I-I’m right here,” you said.

“You're not her. I know her. I’ll rip your head off right now if you don't tell me where she is,” he threatened.

You paused for a second, then smirked.

“Oh, all right, you got me! Wonder what gave it away,” you smiled.

“I'm not playing games, where is she? Who are you?” Damon asked, pressing “you” against the wall, harder.

“Well, I come in compliments of one Katherine Pierce.”

“You’re a shapeshifter. Of course,” Damon sighed.

“Right again! You're on a roll today, you know that?” “you” smiled.

“Where is she,” he asked again.

“Katherine said to meet her by the tomb. If you’re there within the next…. 5 minutes, (Y/N)'ll be safe,” “you” told him.

He paused for a moment, before speeding off to find you.

----

You woke up in a daze, looking around, trying to make out your surroundings.

You realized you were in a bed, back in your room.

Your eyes widened, remembering what happened.

There wasn't a single scratch on you.

You slowly got out of bed, walking to your bathroom as Damon knocked at the door.

“Uh, hey. I was just checking if you were okay,” he said nervously.

“You saved me,” you said softly.

“Well, I wasn't leaving you there to die,” he shrugged.

“A-After everything, with me ignoring you, you still saved me,” there was a hint of shock in your voice.

“Yeah, I guess I care about you too much to let you get hurt,” he gave you a small smile.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you now,” he said, about to head out of the door.

“Wait, Damon,” you sighed.

He turned back to face you.

“Thank you. And, I’m sorry,” you said.

“You don't have anything to be sorry for, really,” he said.

“I-I thought you were bad, but you’re not. I’m sorry for ignoring you, I’m sorry for all of it,” you said.

“It’s fine. And I’m sorry about Lexi. I know how much she meant to you,” he said, looking down.

“Let’s start over. I-I think that'll be good for us both,” you offered.

“Yeah?” he smiled, looking at you.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Well, I’d like that very much,” he said, about to leave.

“Damon, I have one more question,” you said.

He turned to you again.

“How did you know it wasn't me?”

“Oh, that was easy. I listened to your heart rate and knew instantly. It was steady,” he said, leaving your room.

You never thought your heart racing could’ve been a good thing.

You had a small smile on your lips as you walked off.

#the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries imagines #TVD #tvd family #tvd fandom #tvd fic #tvd fanfic #tvd imagine #Stefan Salvatore #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan salvatore x platonic!reader #damon salvatore #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore angst #damon salvatore fluff #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x platonic!reader

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my-sterion · 4 years ago

Text

Rescued

Featuring Princess!Kenny and Thief!Craig in somewhat of a Stick of Truth AU. But it’s not correlated to the game’s story. I just wanted to write whump.

Words: 1628

“Tell me!”

The familiar sound of sharp leather cutting through the air stings in Craig’s ears, moments before he even feels the whip connecting with his vulnerable skin and a deep groan escapes his lips.

“Tell me where that little whore is hiding out, tell me now!”

Craig is just lucid enough to recognize the impatience that creeps into the elven warriors voice. He knows they expected him to crack sooner, knows they probably hoped to pay him off to get the information they needed. And had it been anything else, Craig probably would have too- but he’d rather die than sell out the one person in this forsaken world he actually cared about.

“Never!” he stubbornly spits, teeth gritted through the burning pain. It takes all his strength not to imagine the mangled sight of his back, soft skin now surely covered with gashing wounds.

Another lash. The pain is getting so overwhelmingly intense that Craig feels close to passing out and his knees buckle, letting him fall forward, cheek colliding with the cold, damp floor. The guard steps closer, clawing his hands into Craig’s matted hair to pull him upright again.

He leans down so, stinking breath filling up the thief’s nostrils and hisses: “Listen Feldspar. Make this easy for both of us- because while it would be a terrible inconvenience to kill you, I will if you don’t cooperate.”

“Kill me, if you must.” Craig weakly mutters, eyes only half open. “I don’t care.”

At this point, he might actually prefer death over another day in this torture chamber of a cell. Obviously frustrated, his captor abruptly lets go, allowing Craig to sink back onto the plastered floor while he paces around the room, kicking against the door in anger.

“Fool! We are going to find the princess with or without your help. Your resistance is pointless!”

Even if Craig wanted to give another response, his strength is at its limit, drained to the point where he can hardly keep his head, let alone speak. But the silence only seems to rile the guard up even more. His hard leather boot flies into his stomach with such force, he feels the urge to throw up, but thanks to the fact that his stomach hasn’t seen any food in days, all he can manage is some painful dry heaving.

“Get some sleep while you still can.” the elf speaks coldly, staring down at Craig squirming. “Tomorrow won’t be a pleasant day for you.”

A moment later Craig can hear the door fall into its lock. Panting heavily, he finally manages to let some of the tension bleed out of his tensed up muscles and presses his forehead against the cool stone.

The prospect of dying in this filthy cell seems more and more likely with every second that passes. In a way, Craig has already made his peace with that. He hadn’t ever imagined dying a death this noble, but that’s what love did to even a selfish man like himself.

If there’s only one thing he might regret, it’s not getting the chance to look into Kenny’s shining blue eyes one last time.

“Craig!” right on cue, a voice that is painfully familiar whispers in a hushed tone.

As much as his heart aches, Craig doesn’t lift his eyes to look at what most likely is nothing but a pain induced hallucination. He has been tortured enough tonight, he doesn’t need to torture himself with the inevitable disappointment as well.

But then the same voice urges again, louder and more real this time: “Craig! Fucking wake up!”

His muscles are trembling from overexertion, but he props himself up just enough to raise his glare. Even through black spots and a few greasy hair strands in his eyes, the person standing in front of him is a picture crystal clear and the desperate whimper of relief falls from his lips.

Kenny is pressed close to the gate, hands tightly gripping the iron bars. Her long blonde hair that is usually carefully braided is now tucked away into a ponytail and her dress is replaced by something armor-like, but the expression coloring her face is just as fierce and determined as Craig remembers.

Worriedly, her eyes seem to roam over his body. “Holy fuck, you look like crap.”

An amused snort quickly turns into hacked up coughing while he sputters out: “It wasn’t the most comfortable stay.”

She ignores him and instead starts working on the door lock. While Kenny might not be as skilled as a lock picker as he is, her witch-like powers are widely known across the country and so it barely takes a minute until the door snaps open. It’s not the most elegant option, but it’s effective. As soon as it does, she hurries in, crouching down by his side in merely a second. Her hands gently clasp around his waist and she pulls him into her arms, careful not to worsen the already angry wounds.

Craig weakly looks up at her face. Her eyes are soft but the brows furrowed in deep concern. It’s so relieving and he all but melts into the comforting touch.

“I didn’t-“ he starts, only for his voice to break a mere moment later. Craig gathers himself, swallowing dryly while he tries to blink the blurriness away- everything under her gentle caress.

“I didn’t tell them anything.”

Why those are the words his hazed mind chooses to say, he’s not sure. It’s rather pointless too, because if he had said a word about Kenny’s whereabouts, she definitely wouldn’t be standing in front of him, but somehow he still needed her to know.

Needed her to know how much she meant to him- that she had his unending loyalty.

Kenny’s ocean eyes widen only slightly before her face shifts into an expression full of emotion, affection and love. With a gaze that might be a little more teary eyed than she’d normally let on, the princess moves her hand to cup Craig’s cheek and gently strokes the burning skin.

“I know.” she assures him, voice not entirely steady, “I know you didn’t, darling.”

There’s guilt and sadness in those words and in every corner of her face. Craig wants to chase it away, wants to reassure her of everything that wasn’t her fault, but his body won’t let him.

Her touch is like cool rain on scorching flesh. Craig stares up into the soft features of her face, sees the tears pool at the corners of her eyes and barely manages to nod tiredly, warmth flooding through his limbs. Silently he makes an oath to himself, that if they make it out of here, to tell her every disgustingly sappy thought that has crossed his mind for the last few days.

The distant noise of keys jingling tears both of them away from the blissful moment of intimacy and a cold wave of dread washes over Craig. Frantically he pushes away his lovers hands, trying to get out of her hold with what little power he has left.

“No, no. Get out, or they’ll take you too.” he whispers, failing to keep the panic out of the words.

Kenny carefully retracts her hands from his hips, the look on her face suddenly cold and determined as she stares down the dungeons corridor.

“Like hell I will. I’m going to make them pay for ever laying a god damned hand on you!”

Craig’s feral instincts of survival as well as wanting to protect Kenny don’t allow him to appreciate her fierce attempts of defending his honor for more than a split second. Before she can even get up, he grabs her wrist as tightly as he can and squeezes, hard enough so that she is forced to turn her head back to him.

Their eyes meet- Craig silently shakes his head and the crashing storm of rage in her bright blue eyes seems to quiet down.

Sighing, the tension that has built up between her shoulder blades, dissipates.

“Alright, fine.” she relents, casting a last careful outside the cell. “I’ll let them live, for now. Let’s just get you out of here.”

Craig is still seated on the floor, but even staying upright is becoming harder and harder every second. The adrenaline of seeing Kenny here is slowly wearing off so that the pain sets back in and the edges of his eyesight become blurry again.

Blinking once, twice, he breathes deeply. “Do you have a plan?”

Despite the threatening situation, the blonde princess shoots him a smitten look over her shoulder. “Don’t I always, darling?”

He’s too exhausted- and in all honesty, scared, to even go in on her playful banter but at least manages a weak smile at the admittedly truthful words. In the years they’ve known each other he had learned to never underestimate her capability.

So, as he trusts his life into her hands, Craig carefully crawls to back up against the cool wall, palms scraping on rough stone, and breathes deeply. Only for a moment the thief allows himself to close his eyes and relax- until her sweet scent intensifies once more.

Tiredly blinking, Craig stares at her expectantly. Kenny just smiles and leans down to gently help him get up on his aching feet. Instantaneously, her arm wraps tightly around his waist, keeping him from toppling over with doting determination.

“Ready to get out of here, Feldspar?” she asks, voice low and yet loud enough to make his whole body tremble lightly.

Now that he’s standing up, his sight is worsening again. With a sigh Craig leans into her support just a little bit more and brings himself to a shaky, but content nod

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

#crenny #crenny fanfiction #south park #whump fic #kenny mccormick

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marvelsdc22 · 4 years ago

Text

Into The Wild West pt. 7

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a great day/night!! Am I going to keep writing this even though the last part only got 9 notes? Hell yeah cause I’m having fun with it and don’t give a damn anymore, enjoy~

Note: Kara gets into a sticky situation, Y/N needs some self care days, Lena’s mad(What else is new?), Kara, Lena, Maggie, and Alex steal an oil wagon, a little Lena and Kara bonding happens, oh and Sadie just might kill Kara, stay tuned for that fiasco

Word Count: 1903

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6

Kara sighed as she slowed Krypto to a halt, her having been looking for you for hours, but unable to find you “She really doesn’t want to be found” she said to herself, patting Krypto’s neck some and sighing as she gave one more look around before she tugged on his reins to get him to turn around, tensing up when he got jumpy “Easy” she said, trying to calm him when she heard it, the very distinct growl of a panther “Krypto!” she shouted when he raised up onto his hind legs, knocking her off before taking off back towards camp, leaving Kara to deal with the panther on her own.

xxxxx

You sat back in your saddle as you let Sid go wherever he wanted, the moon being your only light source since you were bordering O’Driscoll territory, you sighing as you thought about what all had went down the day before when you heard a shout, swearing it sounded like Kara “Go, Sid!” You shouted, turning him towards the shout and taking off on him.

When you got there, you caught a glimpse of a panther prowling around a defenseless Kara, you knowing you had to act quickly and hopping off Sid, having him go as you grabbed a branch, lighting it quickly before running over to Kara and holding the flame out “Get back!” You shouted, staring the panther down and waving the flame in front of you, watching as the panther barred its teeth at you but backed off, you knowing it wouldn’t stay away for long as you helped Kara up and whistled for Sid, who was antsy due to the panther roaming about “Come on” you said, getting on then helping Kara up before you took off, heading over to your makeshift camp a little ways away.

“What the hell were you thinking?” You asked, helping her down once you hopped off Sid and looking at her with your arms crossed “I wanted to make sure you were okay” Kara said, looking at you and messing with her hands, watching you shake your head as you unsaddled Sid and let him roam to eat some grass “As you can see, I’m fine, I know how to survive out here” you said, looking at her as you went over to your tent to see if you had a spare sleeping roll “You can stay here for the night, I want you to go back to the camp tomorrow… I need to cool off” you said sternly, looking at her “Dutch should have things for you guys to do, I’ll be back in a few days” you said, looking at her and needing time to cool off after the whole thing, Kara having no choice but to agree.

The next morning, you sent Kara off after locating her horse once more and getting her on it “Come on, Sid” you said, making sure your pack and saddle bag were secure before you hopped onto his back, riding him until you found a small river with a waterfall “This looks as good of a place as any” you said, tying Sid up to a tree before you went towards the lake, stripping down and wading into the water “Holy shit it’s freezing” you complained, although you shouldn’t be surprised since it was getting close to winter time, you relaxing into the water once you got used to the temperature, forcing all the recent events to leave your mind.

xxxxx

When Kara got back to the camp, Alex approached her “What were you thinking?! I was worried about you!” Alex said, pulling her into a tight hug after she hopped off Krypto’s back “I had to make sure she was okay” Kara said, looking over at Lena who looked pissed and Kara wasn’t sure if it was her doing or something else “She still pissy?” Arthur asked, knowing that you were known to run off for a few days at a time to be mad by yourself “Yeah… She wasn’t happy when she found me” Kara said, rubbing the back of her neck and smiling some when Arthur just laughed “If she comes back while I’m gone, tell her I went to handle money situations” he said, patting Kara’s arm before heading over to Akhali who was happily munching on her haybale.

“What’s got him so happy?” Kara asked, looking at Alex then at Susan when she walked by “His old lady friend reached out to him and he helped her… Wish she hadn’t, playing with his heart like that” she said, shaking her head as she headed over to where the other ladies were folding laundry “Dutch wants to see us” Maggie said, coming over to them and leading them over to Dutch’s tent.

Dutch looked at Kara with a small scolding look “I thought I told you not to go after her, she’ll be back” he said, watching as Kara bit her lip and nodded “I know, she told me” she said, messing with her hands and feeling Lena’s stare on the back of her head as she stood there “Was that all you needed to talk about?” Lena snipped, looking at Dutch who laughed and shook his head “I like you” he chuckled, pointing at Lena before nodding his head for them to follow him.

Once they got outside of the tent, leading them over to John who was standing by his tent “John, I got your help right here” he said, gesturing to the girls “Dutch, I ain’t a babysitter” John said, looking at him and watching Dutch shake his head “They’re going to help you with the oil, just tell them what to do” he said before heading off, John sighing before looking at the girls “Okay, Uncle told me something about a train… Mary-Beth told Arthur about it, we need something that’ll stop it… So, I figured something with oil in it that we could light on fire and set up in the middle of the tracks… It’ll make them stop unless they wanna die” he said, looking at them and watching as they raised their eyebrows “What do you want us to do?” Lena asked, looking at him with her arms crossed “Go find us an oil wagon, hide it next to this rundown shake just off of Dewberry Creek then find me when you’re done” he said, looking at them before he headed off to go find all the ammunition that they would need.

“There’s a refinery not far from here, come on” Alex said, having seen it on the way from the last thing she did for the gang and heading with them over to the horses; when they arrived, they stopped at the top of a hill “How do you expect us to get this wagon?” Maggie asked, hopping off her horse, Jet, and heading over to where Alex was now standing “We take it from all corners, one of us will ride in on a wagon as they come in, the rest will come in from the other angles “I’ll take the wagon” Lena said, barely noticeable in the dark with her black clothing and hair, her pale face the only thing noticeable “Alright, I’ll take the north, Maggie you take the east, and Kara you take west… We’ll meet back up at the shack if we get separated” Alex said before going to get back on her horse along with Maggie before heading off to where they needed to be.

Kara looked at the refinery for a moment before looking at Lena who was about to get on her horse, Casper “Lena” she said, going over to her and gently grabbing her arm “Be safe out there” she said, looking at her and hearing Lena scoff “What do you care, lets get this done” she said before getting on Casper and taking off, leaving Kara standing there stunned before Krypto nudged her with his nose “Yeah… Lets go” she said, hopping onto Krypto before going to get into position.

As Kara sat there, she didn’t take her eyes off of Lena as she jumped into the wagon that was about to enter the refinery, unable to stop thinking about what Lena had told her beforehand “Did I do something wrong?” She asked herself, unsure what she could’ve done to make Lena give her the cold shoulder, getting pulled out of her thoughts when she heard shouting and gunshots, seeing Lena taking off in the oil wagon with a lot of people gunning her down “Crap” she said, squeezing Krypto’s sides and having him take off, reacting off of reflex as she drew her gun and started shooting, trying to take whatever attention she could off of Lena and keeping up with her “Focus on driving, I got them” Kara promised, looking at Lena when she got close enough to her, managing to gun down a few people and while she felt terrible about it, she remembered what you had told her, it was them or her family.

Once they were no longer getting chased down, Lena slowed down some and Kara caught back up “You okay?” She asked, looking at Lena whose eyes were bright “Am I okay? I’ve never felt so alive!” She said, the rush and excitement of what just happened making her feel more alive than she’d ever felt before, Kara unable to help the smile that appeared on her face when she saw Lena’s excitement “That was quite the rush, huh?” She asked, giving a small laugh and looking over when she heard hoofbeats and seeing Alex and Maggie trailing behind them, them seeming to be having their own discussion.

After a moment of silence, Kara looked at Lena again “I’m sorry for whatever I did” she apologized, still not knowing what she did wrong but she was sorry for whatever it was and Lena glanced at her “You have nothing to apologize for” she said, her long black hair shining in the moonlight and Kara couldn’t help but stare “Okay” she said, focusing back ahead of her “I’m gonna make sure the area is clear” she said before having Krypto speed up, needing some time to think about what all had went down.

Once the wagon was delivered, Kara and them decided to set up camp for the rest of the night, knowing it would take a bit to get back to camp so this was the better option “I should have one in my saddle bag” Kara said, Alex needing some string to hold the fish that they had caught down so they could cook it, her digging in her bag and grabbing the fishing reel she had in her bag, raising an eyebrow when something paperlike touched her fingers, pulling it out and feeling all the blood rush out of her face, it was the paper that Sadie had given her to give to you but she had forgotten to and to make matters worse? It was ruined from the water they had traveled through, some having splashed into it and now it was soaked and unreadable “Sadie’s going to kill me” she muttered, knowing that it had probably been something important and now she messed it up, holding it in her hand when something solid fell out of it, a beaded bracelet which was now busted… Yup, she was dead.

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#lena luthor x kara danvers #lena x kara #supercorp #sadie adler x reader #sadie adler x fem!reader #sadie x reader #lena luthor imagine #kara danvers imagine #sadie adler imagine #dc #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption 2 #Into The Wild West

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vanillawinston · 4 years ago

Text

Mad World| Chapter THREE

Joker x OC(Jane Parker)

Summary: Jane was in the wrong place at the wrong time and suddenly her life was falling apart. The past and future of a dangerous obsession which changed his life and destroyed hers completely.

Warning for this chapter: /

Back to the start HERE

Previous part HERE

Next part HERE

Words: 1987

My nerves were raw when we all, dressed in our new clothes, equipped with our weapons, had to enter a helicopter. Unwanted I remembered how the first time ever in such a thing I had been by his side; I remembered how happy I had been back then, how different my world was. This situation now was weird. It was strange not being in a cell, being kind of free, sitting here, surrounded by those people. A few days ago I was ready to die, to let everything end, and now I was here with all those other prisoners, and one of them was Harley, the new girl at the side of the men I once would have died for without thinking twice about it.

I sighed hardly when I fastened my seat belt and of course hat the misfortune to sit right in front of Quinn. On my right sat this weird and kind of creepy crocodile man, who had the name Croc. From a nearer view he looked less creepy, but I was still freaked out of sitting next to him, in the end he still was a fucking crocodile. On my left sat the tattooed man, El Diablo. I had heard some stuff about him and his power of creating hell like fire out of nowhere. Weird. The other strangers were Captain Boomerang and Slipknot. We were for sure the weirdest group ever, especially in the company of Rick's friend Katana who was walking around with a bloody sword in her hands like some ninja and who was looking at every one of us like she wanted to nothing more but to behead all of us.

"So, I still have some issues understanding our position in this matter," Floyd spoke up while the last technical details were checked before we would depart.

"You will do as I say, you will follow the rules and do what you can do best."

"If not then... Pshhh," Boomerang said and made a gesture with his hands like he was imitating an explosion, and I shivered of it, but to explode doesn't sound that nice, not at all, and this Rick guy had the full power over us and our lives.

"Typically," Floyd snorted. "We are doing your dirty work and getting nothing in return."

"We will see," Slipknot mumbled when the helicopter started, and for a moment I was frightened of this sudden noise and the movement. It was still strange to process this whole thing, to really accept that we would go on this mission, that I was free, away from the prison and the torture in it.

"Easy kid," Floyd laughed now more friendly and calming, which was really helpful. I calmed down, remembered that everything was ok, even though it was strange lifting up, leaving the earth, the prison behind. My calmness didn't last for long though when I saw Harley's curious gaze on me. "Aren't you a bit young to be here?" she asked me amused, like it was some joke, but she was right. I was the youngest of all of them. I was a lot younger than the rest.

"The girl is 19 and in here for two years," Floyd answered and manged it that everyone was staring at me impressed. Even this Samurai Lady looked astonished to me. Yeah, everyone was asking themselves what the hell I did to end up here, how bad my crime was to suffer so much in such a young age.

"And why?" Boomerang asked, and I saw how this Diablo guy eyed me silently from the side. He didn't say a word, stared at me intensively, and it was really distracting.

"I'm useful," I said, didn't want to think about it again, about everything I've went through. The last few months I never had to go through all of this crap, but these last days I had to relive everything over and over again, talk about it, remember some horrible stuff, and I really had enough. I didn't want to say more, especially since no one knew my connection to the Joker and no one should, especially not Harley.

It is common knowledge that the Joker once had another toy than Quinn, but everyone, including himself, thinks she is dead. No one knew my real name back then, except for the Joker. I had a different name, one the Joker liked more, since only he was allowed to know the real me, the real Jane. I had managed it to stand all this time at his side without anyone ever recognizing me, only if they would have been close to me. Just the government had found out the truth.

"We really are weird," Boomerang laughed loudly, and I used the distraction of the others to look to Diablo, who was still staring at me.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him, and he seemed like he was trying desperately to find an answer when suddenly there was a loud bang and the whole helicopter started to spin around. It felt like I was pressed sharply against my belt, everything was spinning, my body was shaking from one side to another, and the fear of dying surrounded me. It felt like we would all gonna die, and even though I've welcomed death a lot of times in my life, I was scared, I didn't want to go now, not like this.

Some of the belts of the others stopped working by all this shaking, I saw how someone was falling without a hold in the vehicle, and this destiny almost was mine as well when I heard my belt click. I saw with wide eyes to the wall in front of me, knew that I would fall against it, that I would probably die, break all my bones, when suddenly Diablo put his arm in front of me, hold me back like some sort of extra belt and he kept me safe this way. It must be so hard and so painful holding his arm in front of me like this, holding me back, but he didn't stop, not until we finally reached the ground and the whole horrible trip found an end.

Breathing hardly, I looked to him when I took his arm away from me and he was just like me out of breath and exhausted. I stroked my hair back, tried to calm myself, but it was hard, after all we almost died here.

"A hell of a landing," Boomerang laughed, stood up from the ground and seemed ok, considering he was the one who was falling around during the crash, the one whose seat belt has stopped working just like my mine did, with the only difference that he didn't had a Diablo who saved him.

"Oh, this was funny," Harley giggled, and I thought I had to throw up, for one because of her but also because all this spinning made me dizzy.

"Everyone ok?" Rick asked, and I stood up, followed the others out of the wreckage, tried not to fall, so giddy was everything.

My eyes widened in shock when I saw the city around us, saw all those demolished buildings. It was nice seeing something different than the prison, but what the hell had happened here? It looked like a T-Rex or something had a fight with Godzilla here. Has Gotham changed this much during the last years or was this just part of the mission?

"Everyone is fine," Floyd mumbled and stand next to me, looked just as shocked to the city.

"I'm really here, seeing all of this again," I breathed quietly, and Floyd smiled. "Enjoy it. This won't be a journey to an amusement park like Harley is assuming," he said amused, and I sighed hardly.

"No, it won't." I looked back to the others, who were trying to get all their stuff out of the wreck and where I saw how Diablo was already looking at me. The guy was weird, but he has saved my life. Who knew what would have happened without him? I wasn't as stable as Boomerang to survive something like this. I was small, thin, really thin, it wasn't healthy anymore. There was no chance I would have survived. This was why I took all my courage to walk right to him, saw how he eyed me curiously while doing so.

"Thank you," I said struggling, and it was weird saying this. Gratitude. How long haven't I felt something like this?

"It's ok," he said shortly, turned around, and I rolled my eyes. He wasn't a big talker, was he?

"It is not. It wasn't easy holding me there, even if I'm not much of a weight, so thank you!" He looked me in my eyes before he stroked his in tattoos covered head.

"It really is ok, but try to watch out for yourself, lightweight," he said smirking, and I immediately smiled back when Rick shouted us all together, so I walked to him, asked myself what would happen next?

"So we have to keep walking, and I warn you, don't try anything or I will blow you up." "We got it," Slipknot answered him, was clearly annoyed, didn't seem too impressed of this whole blowing up thing. Either he wasn't believing Rick, or he simply didn't care, but it was his problem not mine. My biggest problem right now was trying to stay alive but also not to kill Harley who was a pain in the ass with her annoying behaviour.

"Don't be so tensed," Floyd said when we started to move, right into the destroyed neighborhood.

"I'm not tensed," I defended myself, and he smiled. "I see your tension and I really don't know what the reason behind of it is, but I'm sure it is not only because of this mission." "Then have fun trying to find out," I said amused, wouldn't tell him anything, he would probably judge me for my past, think I'm some lunatic, and if Harley finds out the truth... god, she would kill me! She would definitely kill me, she was too obsessed with the Joker, I was a threat, she would never let me live.

"I will find out, I promise," he said smiling when I suddenly heard Rick curse and fast saw the reason why. Slipknot tried to flee; so he really didn't believe Rick. Skillfully he climbed up one of the buildings, and I really thought he would escape, he would manage it, so fast and easy he moved up the building, when there was a loud bang, and he was dead. From one second to anther he was dead, just like that.

"Holy crap," Boomerang mumbled shocked, and I put my hand on my fast beating heart, but this was horrible. We really were damned, we really could die just like this if Rick wants us to, but it was also terrible to see someone die again, to see, after such a long time, someone die again in front of me. I've completely forgotten how fast this could happen, how fast someone, who was just breathing, could be gone forever, and I really don't want to think about it. This view opened so many old scars, old horrible memories came up, and I hated it.

"I hope this was a lesson to all of you," Rick said, looking with a weird look to the dead Slipknot, before he turned around and started walking again.

"Oh, how much I hate this son of a bitch," Floyd said disgusted, and I knew this whole thing would end in a tragedy, and I was right in the middle of it.

Aloha :) I hope you liked it. In the next part there will be finally something about the Joker. Sorry for any grammar or editing mistakes, tell me if you like to be tagged and the Gif is not mine xx

Tag: @xxqueenwxtchxx

#the joker #joker #joker fanfiction #joker x reader #jared leto joker #jared leto #dc #DC Fandome #joker x oc #Suicide Squad

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baseballbitch116 · 5 years ago

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Stay At Camp(1.2)

Your Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon Interactive Love Story

Introduction: Follow along on your journey with Daryl and the others throughout the series... You choose your actions... Will you end up with Daryl? YOU have the power to decide that!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

Setting: Atlanta camp - before Rick has joined (S1E2-3)

Word Count: 3263

Series Warnings: Gore, violence, strong language, potentially triggering content, sexual themes, death, mentions of drug/alcohol consumption and abuse...

Chapter Warnings: Violence, gore, death, strong language, angst,

A/N: I’d just like to note that I used a lot of true dialogue from the show, which does not belong to me; however, Y/N and the rest of the writing does.

Masterlist

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“What’s going on?” You ask Glenn as he passes you. “Going on a run. Wanna come?” He asks, stopping and turning to look at you.

You had never gone with them on a run before, what exactly do you do? Would you just get in the way? But then again, you’ve been wanting to find a way to pull your weight… What should you do?

~~~

“Uhh, nah... I’ll stay back.” You respond with uncertainty. You feel slightly guilty, but you just don’t think that you’re ready to go out there just yet. Glenn nods and shoots you a reassuring smile before turning and heading toward the others. With a sigh, you head the opposite way to help out with some cleaning.

Your mind is preoccupied for most of the remainder of the day, wandering between your insecurities or fears, sometimes to different terrible scenarios that could be taking place on that run. Trying to keep yourself busy was the only was that you managed to stay sane - so that was what you did. You helped Amy clean and gut the fish her and her sister caught earlier in the day, tidied up the RV, helped Shane gather firewood, asked Carol to try to teach you how to sew, and even assisted the kids with homework - seeing as you were recently graduated from college with a degree in education.

The day drug by slowly, but eventually the sun set and everyone gathered around the fire Shane set up in to eat. It was a simple meal of canned beans and canned soup, each of you getting small portions in order to feed everyone. You sat beside Amy as you spooned at your food, listening to Dale explain his reasoning behind adjusting his watch every morning. You lent against the log that the others sat on, not overly concerned with dirtying your shorts, as you and the women wash clothes every morning.

This certainly wasn’t a meal that you would have eaten a few weeks ago - not only did beans and soup not go together, but you really steered clear of the weird mushy food. You wished you had a nice cheeseburger or bowl of Fettuccine right now - but that was a luxury that no longer existed. It was not easy to cook meals in a pot over a fire, with minimal ingredients and two dozen people to feed.

You chuckle as Dale finishes his story, taking one more spoonful of the beans into your mouth as you listen to the others speak. Your eyes wandered to Carol and her family gathered around their own smaller fire off to the side - grimacing at the sight. You liked Carol and Sophia a lot - but Ed was another story. The man wanted nothing to do with the rest of the group, contributed less than nothing, and was very obviously abusive toward his wife. You also took notice of the fact that once again, Daryl was not here.

Typically, Daryl would bring back whatever he killed, cook it up and take his plate off to his tent to eat alone. You had not seen him eat alongside the rest of the group before, it made you curious. Why did he insist on being alone? Today, he was still out hunting, having only returned for an hour or so earlier before heading back into the woods. You couldn’t help but worry - he was alone in the woods in the night. Still, it wasn’t your place to worry. The man had probably spoken a total of two words to you since meeting him - if that - you were by no means friends.

You are drawn out of your thoughts when you spot Shane standing up, approaching Ed and Carol over at their fire. Some of the group watch as the others try to mind their business as Shane asks Ed to keep the fire low, so they can’t be seen from far away. You clench your spoon as you see the man tell Carol to remove the log that he just tossed into the fire - watching as Shane stomps it out and thanks Carol, bidding her and Sophia a good night. You liked Shane - he was a pretty good guy to lead this group.

The next day goes by relatively the same as the one before, with the exception that the others never returned from the run. Typically, they would be gone from morning until close to sun down, which worried everyone immensely. Amy was panicking and demanding that they go out to try to find her sister, but Shane refused. You could see both sides, feeling bad for Amy but understanding Shane’s reasoning. You tried to reassure her that they were probably fine, but the younger girl wouldn’t hear any of it.

Not long before sundown, you heard the sound of an alarm blaring through the hills. Shane jumped up from where he sat cleaning his shotgun, Lori pausing in trimming Carl’s hair as she followed after him. You tried to spot where the sound was coming from, but you could not see anything. “Talk to me Dale!” Shane shouts at the older man on watch atop the RV. He is looking out with binoculars, trying to pin point what was approaching. “Can’t tell yet.”

“Is it them? Are they back?” Amy asks anxiously. You place a hand on her back to try to comfort her, your heart pounding as you anticipate what is coming.

“I’ll be damned.” Dale mutters.

“What is it?” She demands.

“Stolen car is my guess.” He replies, dropping the binoculars as the red car comes into view.

Everyone gathered around camp when the car pulled up. Shane was furious that Glenn pulled up to camp in a red sports car, laughing excitedly as its alarm shrilled.

“Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!” Dale shouts at Glenn as he grins.

“I don’t know how!” He hollers with his arms open. Shane taps the hood impatiently, asking him to pop the hood as Amy bombards Glenn with questions over the loudness of the car.

“Pop the damn hood please!”

“Is she alright?! Is she okay? Where is she?!”

“Yes! They’re all okay! Well... Merle not so much.”

“Are you crazy driving this wailing bastard up here - you trynna draw every walker for miles?!” Shane exclaims, leaning on the open hood after he shuts the alarm off.

“I think we’re okay.” Dale mutters. You run a hand through your greasy hair as you wrap your head around everything. Everyone’s okay except Merle? Why was Glenn driving this in the first place?

“You call being stupid okay?” Shane asks, shooting a look over his shoulder at Dale.

“That alarm was echoing all over these hills - hard to pin point the source. Shane stands and places his hands on his hips, giving Dale a look. You can’t help but admire how he looks for a moment - his blue button down shirt with the top buttons undone, exposing his chest. His cargo pants were snug on his long legs and his black hair was disheveled from running his large hands through it so frequently. If it weren’t for Lori...

“I’m not arguing, I’m just saying.” Dale remarks. “But it wouldn’t hurt you to think things through a little more carefully.” He points a finger at Glenn, the smile long gone from his face. You shake your head and shift your weight as a white truck pulls up behind the other car. You feel your heart swell in happiness for your friend when Andrea steps out, running for her sister with teary eyes. You watch as Morales and everyone else reunite with their loved ones, both you and Shane exchanging a look as Lori comforts a saddened Carl.

When a new man steps out of the car, dressed in a cop outfit, you are confused when you see Shane’s face fall. He looks like he’s seen a ghost - does he know this man? “Dad!” Carl screams, running into the arms of the unknown man. You watch in awe as Carl and Lori reunite with who must be his father... You and all the other smile at the scene, a single tear strolling down your cheek as you rejoice for them.

Until it hits you.

You look at Shane, his face rising and falling, his expression changing every second. He’s been sleeping with Lori... From what you knew, her husband was shot and died in the hospital right as this all happened... Was this really that man? You had so many questions but instead went over to give Andrea a hug, happy to see your friend has returned safely.

After the others settled in, the fire was once again set up and everyone feasted, listening to stories and the man - Rick - explained what happened when he woke from the coma he was in. You kept glancing back at Shane, wondering whether he was happy his friend was alive or not. He explained that he thought he died, that he didn’t hear a heartbeat and was attached to machines, which sounded like enough reason to believe he had passed to you. Still, you noticed how he looked at Lori throughout the night and you knew that there was going to be tension after tonight.

Once again, Daryl had only appeared once in the morning, asking about the whereabouts of his brother and eating before heading back into the woods. You had met his eye when he strode off, ducking your head from the intensity of his stare.

The next morning, you awoke shortly after sunrise in order to get a head-start on the day. You were going down to the quarry to wash clothes with the women while Shane and Carl tried catching frogs. You dressed into denim capris that hugged your legs and a black tank top, your hair pulled up into a pony tail as you spooned leftovers from last night into your mouth alongside Amy and Andrea. You are sitting beside them on the RV stairs when you spot Daryl approaching the camp from the woods, a string of something swung over his shoulder as he heads your way.

Swallowing the lump that formed in your throat, you exchange a knowing look with the sisters - Merle was left behind. Daryl stops a few feet away from the RV, hollering for his brother as he sets down his crossbow. “Merle!” He hollers again, making you cringe as you note a string of squirrels thrown over his shoulder. You meet his eye for a moment when he glances over his shoulder toward the RV. “Get yer ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel!” He shuffles the weight of the dead animals over his shoulder. You grimace at the sight - knowing that it was a good thing and you should be thankful, but it was gross and sad. “Let’s stew em up!”

“Daryl?” Shane calls out, stopping Daryl in his tracks. Everyone is gathered around by this point and you exchange a worried look with the girls when you spot T-Dog heading over with an armful of firewood. “Why don’t you slow up a bit? I gotta talk to you.”

“About wha?” Daryl asks, his southern accent prominent. You try not to seem too nosey but at this point a lot of the group was gathered around, anticipating his bad reaction. You set the bowl of food aside and stand, crossing your arms and leaning against the vehicle beside your friends. “This isn’t gonna be good.” Amy mutters to the two of you, keeping her voice low. Shane makes his way over to Daryl, Rick following behind.

“About Merle... There was a uh... There was a problem in Atlanta.” You watch anxiously as Daryl takes in the information, looking around the camp at the people gathered, chewing on his thumb.

“He dead?” He asks, glancing up at Shane sideways.

“I’m not sure.”

“He either is or he ain’t!” Daryl shouts, approaching Shane. Your body is tense now and you worry that he is going to do something stupid.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” Rick steps up, approaching Daryl. He glares at him angrily. You notice how Rick looks a lot different in his large white shirt and jeans than he did yesterday in his uniform.

“Who are you?”

“Rick Grimes.”

“Rick Grimes...” Daryl sneers, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. You feel the tension growing in the air. “You got somethin you wanna tell me?” He growls.

“Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked onto a piece of metal. He’s still there.”

Daryl begins stalking back and forth, glaring between Shane and Rick, clearly bewildered. If you were in his shoes you would be too - it sounds pretty bad. “Hold on,” He starts, wiping his face and gesturing to his head. You notice that Daryl speaks with his hands quite a lot, mentally adding it to the things that you know about him. “Lemme process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof?! And you left him there!” He hollers at Rick, his tone raising with each word, making you jump at his loudness.

Before anyone can react, Daryl tosses the squirrels at Rick - who dodges them - and goes to lunge at him. Shane is quick to roughly shove him to the ground - making you cringe when he hits the ground on his back. You want to intervene but it’s not your place - and what would you do to stop the older, larger man?

Daryl whips out his large dagger, making you and Amy gasp when he swipes at Rick. Between Shane and Rick, they work together to disarm and get Daryl to the ground, Shane holding him in a choke-hold as Rick tries to reason with him. “You best let me go!” Daryl shouts, his face turning red as he struggles against Shane.

After a moment, Shane releases Daryl. He shuffles to his feet and resumes stalking and glaring at the men. “The hell with all y’all!” Daryl shouts, waving his arm in no real direction. You spot the tears he roughly wipes away and your heart drops for him. If that were your brother abandoned on a roof you would be pretty furious too. You can’t imagine how he must be feeling.

“Just tell me where he is.. So I can go get him.” Daryl grumbles.

“He’ll show you. Isn’t that right?” Lori speaks up, looking over at her husband. When he nods, she stomps past you into the RV and you exchange a confused look with Amy.

You, Andrea, Amy Jacqui and Carol decided to head down to start on the laundry after the scene. Ed tags along, irritating you, but you bite your tongue. Eventually Shane follows with Carl and you watch them mess around in the water, trying to catch frogs. The sight warms your heart - until Lori shows up and tells Carl to leave. You try not to watch too much, but everyone can hear and see her hollering at Shane, telling him to stay away from Carl.

You feel that is a little harsh, given all that Shane has done for her and that he says he thought Rick was dead. You keep your opinions to yourself as you scrub clothes in the water, droning out Carol as she talks. The girls start listing things that they miss and you all laugh when Andrea brings up her vibrator, Carol agreeing with her. The moment is cut short when Ed interrupts, saying that you guys are laughing too much.

You and Andrea turn and shoot him a look as he looms over you guys, lighting a cigarette. This man had nothing better to do than to supervise? You watch as Andrea stands up, approaching him and you dread the worst. You will not hesitate to stand up for her if he acts out of line - unfair to butt in in this situation.

“Ed, tell you what. You don’t like how your laundry’s done, you are welcome to pitch in and do it yourself.” She suggests with a calm tone. You slowly stand from where you sat and turn to face them, ready for him to pull a dick move. “Here,” She suddenly tosses a wet pair of pants at Ed’s chest, which he immediately tosses back into her face, making her gasp. “Ain’t my job missy.” He drawls, taking a drag of his cigarette. The situation very quickly escalates as Amy tries to get her sister to back down but you take her side.

“No, what exactly is your job Ed? You think you can stand around and watch us all day? Got news for ya - we sure as hell aren’t your bitches.” You growl, daring the man to try you. You’ve had it up to here with this asshole, you’re dying for an excuse to fuck him up or go down trying.

He demands Carol follow him when he pussies out of the confrontation and ends up slapping her - sending all of you over the edge. Everyone is screaming as you and Andrea quickly start pounding on Ed’s chest, you digging your nails into his arms as you try to pull him off of Carol. You manage to get a punch in before he is literally drug off by Shane. You hold your throbbing fist as you watch Shane begin pummeling Ed, climbing on top of him and relentlessly beating him.

You almost want to cheer as he does so, grimacing as Carol cries and begs Shane to stop. Eventually he takes it too far and you all start hollering for him to stop. Carol runs over to the asshole’s side and sobs over him, making you sick as she apologizes to him. You and Shane meet eyes for a moment, your gaze landing on his bloody fists. “Shane-” You start, but he shrugs and shifts his weight, walking backward from the scene.

While some of the men got ready to go back to Atlanta to get Merle, you iced your throbbing hand on the steps of the RV. “You okay?” Glenn asks, shooting you a worried look. You nod and give him a halfhearted smile.

“I wish I could’ve beat his ass like Shane did.” You remark, shifting your weight slightly. Glenn lets out a chuckle and removes his cap, brushing his hair away.

“He deserved it.”

“Damn right he did.” You respond, wincing as you readjust the ice. You look up to spot Daryl getting ready a few yards away. He glances up, squinting at you in the bright sun as you sit there. Word quickly got around camp about what happened and it didn’t take a genius to figure out how you hurt yourself. You watch Daryl chew on his bottom lip, looking at you sideways before dropping his gaze back to his crossbow in hand.

“What’s that all about?” Glenn mutters. You glance up at him and cock a brow.

“Whaddya mean?”

“That. Daryl.” He clarifies, a smirk tugging at his lips. You drop your head as you feel your cheeks heat up, checking out your hand.

“Nothin. We don’t even talk.”

“You want to?” He asks, leaning his body against the RV, shooting a look back at the others that he is waiting for.

“I dunno, he doesn’t seem so bad.” You mumble, glancing up one more time when you see Daryl approaching the other men at the jeep, not looking at you this time. Glenn doesn’t respond, replacing his hat on his head and patting your shoulder. “Be careful.” You tell your friend, shooting him a weak smile that he returns as he walks off.

You watch as Glenn stands a few feet apart from Daryl, Shane giving Rick some bullets. “Let’s go! Wastin sunlight.” Daryl rushes them, making you chuckle slightly. You stand up and after one last look at your friends, you head back into the RV.

| NEXT CHAPTER |

~~~

And that’s the end of the second option! This next chapter will end with more choices that you will need to make to continue through the story. You are heading down a spiral of choices and consequences. A simple decision like choosing to stay at camp is going to set the foundation of this story and all of the choices you are going to need to make following it! If you read the first option, you would see just how different the story has become, and it will only go more into depth as you continue down more paths.

Please leave me some feedback in the comments!! I’m looking forward to seeing everyone’s reactions to this series!!! ♥

If you want to know when this series has been updated, feel free to turn on my notifications and ask to be added to my taglist! ♥

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years ago

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If It Wasn't for the Nights || Alain and Kaden

TIMING: Not long after Knowing Me, Knowing You LOCTION: Cemetery PARTIES: @carbrakes-and-stakes and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Alain and Kaden meet up for some slay therapy

Alain was not ready to be alone with his thoughts right now, or be caught staring blankly into the distance as he tried to make sense of his life, and so, on this lovely summer night, the slayer was not waiting for spawns to show, but actively looking for them, trusting his hunter senses to lead the way. There were not many ways to find flederprey, but so far, only stray spawns were to be found. Not exactly the toughest opponents, but they managed to keep him busy, and that was enough. Still, as the feeling of having undead around him dimmed out, he found himself once again alone with his thoughts, hearing the things she said to him. He also remembered Kaden’s warnings, and how he had ignored those. Minutes passed, and Alain was starting to regret accepting to see his friend.

Hunting vampires was far from Kaden’s specialty, but he was certainly not inept. And if a fellow hunter asked for help, he’d never say no. Especially not a friend. “Hey,” he called out to the slayer who was sitting there, sullen and sulking. Kaden went to make a quip, tease or jostle him, but something felt off. Something. Right. He knew damn well what was off. What he didn’t know was how to deal with it. Feelings weren’t his forte. “Didn’t know what we were looking for so I brought just about everything.” He had his shotgun on his back, as always, even if it wasn’t the most useful for the undead, it made him feel better, there was holy water in flasks with him, a few stakes, his usual roster of knives. “You want to talk about it or you want to start slaying?”

His regret dissipated as he watched Kaden approach. It had been a while, and he was probably to blame for that. Working on making relationships work was obviously not his strongest suit. Alain couldn’t help his smile as his friend explained that he came prepared. This was no surprise. The beast hunter was not one to fuck around, and it must have been why they got along. Their argument hadn’t been really pretty, but Kaden’s opinion mattered, which was why he had not told him yet to fuck off, no matter how much he wanted to sometimes. Still he wondered if he should have told him about Evelyn. She was the kind of person Kaden hunted after all. One could hope that with time, worry would fade, and that so would feelings. “Mmh?” Lost in his thoughts, he only realized Kaden was speaking to him as he heard his last word. “I don’t know if this is the right place for a conversation,” rubbing at the back of his neck, he stood still for a moment before he nodded. “Let’s do… that.” He sighed, still feeling heavy, “Flederprey is what we are looking for. They usually can be found near spawns, but so far, I haven’t found anything but the latter,” which was not exactly hard, in this town. “I’ve already tried this area,” he motioned to the tombstones dressed on the left, behind him. Clearly, they still had a good portion to scan. “They’re pretty easy to kill,” he explained, “not technically undead, but if there’s a lot of them, I should be able to tell they’re here before we see them.”

Kaden was far from a relationship expert and honestly, still a little shocked by how long his current one had lasted. So getting straight to the slaying was probably a better idea. Even if he was pretty sure he’d have to pry it out of Alain eventually. As much as he didn’t do feelings, if being friends with Bea and Morgan had taught him anything it was that sometimes that talking crap helped a little. But first, “flederprey, huh?” He took his shotgun off his back and got it loaded and ready to go. “Sounds like it’s time for target practice.” The smile he offered Alain felt like a shit attempt at acting like everything was alright. “Lead the way,” he said, gesturing for Alain to start tracking using his slayer senses. For a bit, he followed along in a spot of silence. Should he say something about Evelyn? No, probably not. Let him know that he supported his friend? Nah, he was showing that, didn’t need to say it. Maybe he should mention the shit that went down at the cabin? Maybe. Could be a decent distraction. “So. Fun story. Nadia tried to kill us at that lakehouse the other weekend.”

Well, this was a relief. Alain was concerned for a second that this was going to turn into a therapy session. He did not need it. He did not want to talk about it. If he had not needed to drown his sorrow in alcohol, then it probably meant that he was okay, right? Sure, he still felt like he had a ball in his chest when he thought of Evelyn, but that was only natural. It would pass, he was sure of that. Those things just took time. Besides, it only had been a couple weeks. His radar went on and off as they wandered through the lanes. It would take a bit of roaming around to actually find the nest, but he had good hopes that they would find it, and help save a lot of people tonight. Of course, much like usual, people would never know, but that was fine. Being useful was enough reward. Lost in his thoughts, what Kaden said didn’t immediately bring a reaction from the slayer. Frowning, he looked as if he was solving a complicated equation for a second. “Wait what? She tried to kill who? You and Regan? Is Regan okay?” His brows furrowed and he turned around, a baffled expression on his face. “What happened? Is she… was she possessed?” Again? If Alain had noticed a change in Nadia’s behavior, he wouldn’t have guessed that this had happened to her again, assuming that this was what happened.

“Oh I’m fine. No complications with my stab wound, thanks for checking,” Kaden said, sarcastic edge to his voice. “Yeah she’s fine. Physically at least. Clearly I survived. But it was bad.” He sighed remembering that night. The rain, the confusion, that basement, the betrayal. And his confessions afterwards. Probably not a good time to tell his friend his confession of hunting went a bit better than his. “Nadia’s possessed, yeah. Very. Same bitch from six years ago. And it’s--” The words caught in his throat. There wasn’t a lot of hope for her right now. That didn’t matter. “It’ll be alright. We’re going to fix it. I’ll make sure. I mean, I know Regan would too. If she, uh, you know.” Understood what was really going on. “I mean, I don’t know how yet, there’s apparently no fuckin exorcists in to--” His paused to listen. There was something in the distance. Sounds. Screeching. Flapping of wings. Kaden held his hand up to pause them both so he could find the direction of the sound. He was about to point when the sounds got louder. Much louder. And then it hit him. Literally. Talons swooped by his head and Kaden ducked. A few of them must have broken away from the pack. “Putain!” he shouted and started firing his gun at the fuckers, hoping to get a piece of either Shit they were small. This was going to be a challenge. “Rest must be nearby!”

“You’re standing in front of me, come on.” Alain held out his hand, palm up, obviously not having any of the attitude Kaden was giving him. “I’m glad you both are okay,” he smiled apologetically. Whatever had happened must have been terrible, because hunters were not the kind to complain for nothing. “I’m…” Well, he certainly had no word to describe how this felt like. Nadia was one of the kindest people he knew, and he wondered for how long this had been going on. He spoke to her a lot after all. “How is that possible? I thought they got that ghost out of her,” he didn’t know enough about ghosts to understand everything, and so there were things that flew over his head. “There’s not one exorcist in town? Really?” The last part dropped into a whisper. As per usual, the sound of the gun made him flinch. He was not used to working with those, and there was a chance he would never get used to those. “Rest most definitely is not far,” he confirmed, and they seemed to have been drawn by the noise, a few spawns following behind. “Et bien, mon salaud,” his brows furrowed. The weight of his sword adjusted in his hand as he gripped firmly on the handle. The swarm of flederpreys flew around the two hunters, claws and fangs out. It was unlikely that they would walk out without scratches on their face and arms. The good thing was, unorganized creatures like those that just ran headfirst into you were easier to kill as they didn’t know better than to stay away from his arm reach.

The flederprey were coming faster than Kaden could unload bullets. They were a swarm alright. And they brought friends. A few straggling spawn came with them. Good target practice as his dad used to say. And Oscar still did. It was still a bit surreal that Oscar was in White Crest. Not right now, Langley, concentrate. “I got the ground, you get the air,” he told Alain. His gun was going to be all but useless on the small bat like creatures. The spawn he stood a chance with. Before he could so much as reach for a stake, a flurry of talons flew down, dangerously close to his eye and he ducked and rolled out of the way, doing what he could to cover his head. As he lay on the ground, something bigger, much bigger swooped down and Kaden did what he could to swat it away with his gun, brandishing it like a melee weapon, when something sunk into his flesh and he felt his body leave the ground. Putain. Kaden cried out from the pain, as he looked into the eyes of a winged spawn, its hooked claws tearing into him and his face getting dangerously close to his neck. His shout morphed into something of a battle cry as he twisted around and clobbered the monster in the head with the butt of his gun. It screeched and he felt a release from the pain in his sides. Only to also feel the rush of wind fly past him as he fell towards the ground. Aw, fuck. This was going to hurt.

Neither the sword nor the bullets seemed to be ideal for beating the swarm of monsters, and much like Kaden, Alain feared for his eyes more than once. Shielding his face with his forearm, he didn’t immediately notice that his friend had decided to go on a vertical journey through the cemetery, and the slayer, who had forgotten to mention that this might happen, found himself cringing as he thought my fucking bad. This sounded like something that he should have told Kaden about, all things considered. Now the question was should he catch him ? He probably could have supported it, but the idea of getting his eyes away from the rest of these things was unbearable. What he could do however, was kick a spawn under the other hunter. Undead flesh had to be more comfortable than the ground and gravel, right? “You alright,” he didn’t have a hand to offer, as a few spawns were heading toward them. They weren’t done yet with the flederpreys. This was going to get out of hand if they did not move fast. Spawns, he could handle, he had done this hundreds, and hundreds of times, but those pesky little flying fuckers? They were a lot more annoying than in his memories. Or maybe he was just getting old.

“Putain!” Kaden felt his bones crashing into other bones and flesh. Better or worse than the ground? He didn’t know. “Thanks for the help,” he grumbled as he pushed himself up, wiping the dust off his hands as the spawn below him dissipated. He didn’t waste time reloading his gun and letting shots fire into the monsters above him. A good number started squealing and some started dropping. There had to be a better way to take down this hoard, more efficient than their sword and gun combo.Alain was having more luck but Kaden didn’t know what the fuck else to try. It’s not like he had a toothpick launcher to stake these fuckers. Fuck, if only he head a better idea. He pulled out a bottle of holy water and threw it at the monsters and… nothing. “Fucking hell!” Not vampires, not really. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He reloaded and let out more bullets to sink into the monsters’ flesh. The herd seemed to be thinning slowly but surely, not with a whole lot of help from him. He ducked to avoid more tiny talons and locked sight on the winged spawn still swooping around. He might not be able to hit the flederprey but he could sure hit that fucker. He let shots fly, a number of them riddling its wings with holes and the beast gave an ungodly screech as it plummeted to the ground. Kaden covered his head and ran through the field of flederprey towards where the span nose dived, stake in hand. He felt the pricking on his back of the small creatures as he drove the stake through the spawn’s heart, rendering it to dust. . A wing swooped down close to his eye Kaden dove and ducked out of the way, running into the other hunter as he tried to avoid it. Fuck. “Sorry, there’s-- How fucking many of these are there?!”

Kaden’s reaction drew a fit of laughter from the other hunter. As inappropriate and badly timed as it was -vampire dust turning laughter to coughing-, Alain simply could not help but react this way to Kaden’s surprise. Vampires had always, and always would be messy, and it was why he couldn’t consider ever quitting this gig. There were too many, and they could reproduce too easily, and so, it was essential that he did not quit. While the slayer knew that there were more vampire hunters out there that could replace him or do the job, he felt now, more than never, the need to keep going. After all, it was too late for him to start anything new. This had been his life, and this would be his life. Slowly, the cemetery became quieter, and soon enough the sound of weapons being drawn, fired and thrown was no longer heard. “Wasn’t so bad now was it?” With a sigh, he dropped his shoulders and had a look around. “Mmh, give me a second,” he could feel that there was still something close. It was faint, but it could only mean one thing. And so the hunter strode away from his friend. The place fell silent, and then there was a scream. His own. Hanging from the ceiling of a mausoleum was a silhouette, one that he mistook for her, just for a split second. The spawn (for it was one), startled by the sound, threw itself, all claws out toward Alain, who barely had time to protect his face. A gash on his forehead, he stumbled out of the mausoleum, one eye blinded by his own blood. “Bordel de conneries, de putain…” the rest of his curse was lost into the night and he looked around him, searching with one eye for the damn thing.

When the flock was finally picked off, Kaden leaned over, hands on his knees, trying to catch a breath. Still, even through his exhaustion, there was a hint of a smile on his face. He couldn’t help it, the adrenaline kick of a hunt was hard to fight off. “Yeah yeah, shut it. Next time remember to bring something for crowd control. I don’t like fighting swarms of anything for a rea--” He stopped mid sentence as his friend’s face fell. Kaden’s eyebrows knit together as he tried to stay still, listen. Alain decided to go ahead alone and so he simply nodded and let him. Kaden wasn’t going to argue with a moment to rest. But he knew better than to drop his guard completely. He made sure his gun was reloaded, stake easy to access. When he heard a scream, he was glad he did. “Hold on!” he shouted, barreling towards the mausoleum after him, weapons at hand. He saw the spawn sprint out before he caught sight of Alain. Without hesitation, he aimed and fired at the creature, riddling it with bullets until it squealed and dropped down. Not enough, not with vampires. He ran over and gave it a final stake through the heart. Kaden didn’t pause to watch it collapse into a pile of dust, he ran to check on his friend. The string of curse words was a relief, it meant he wasn’t dead. “What happened? You alright? Putain, it was just another one, what was that?” He searched for an answer in his friend’s face, but all he could see was Alain’s wide, frightened eyes, hear the pounding of his pulse. Shit, he didn’t know if he’d ever seen the slayer this spooked.

When would this end? The thought ran on loop in his head. His eyes were still staring directly at the mausoleum. He would not have been able to tell for how long he remained like this, looking into the distance. The feeling was familiar, but he had not grown accustomed to it. He however, was tired of it. Time passed, and it happened less and less often, but every once in a while, he still would get nightmares, or flashes of horror while he was awake. If he had mentioned to Kaden that he had been having nightmares due to a mara, he never mentioned the terrors he could get while he was out and about, or that sometimes they happened while he was busy hunting. He knew too well where this conversation would have gone, but now, he could not exactly escape from that. This whole situation made Alain furious. Part of him wanted to blame Evelyn. After all, he suspected one of her mara friends was responsible for this. Who else would have wanted to protect her like that? The thought that he had defended that woman made him feel gutted, but not as much as the way she had treated him. He still missed her, but in moments like those, he was just angry. He did not deserve this. No one did. “I thought I saw something else,” it might have taken him a few minutes to reply, or maybe seconds. Fright had a way to distort time and reality after all. “I’m okay,” he assured him. Well obviously no one would believe that.

Kaden’s brows furrowed as he tried to read whatever look was on Alain’s face, see if there was some answer to his questions there that weren’t in his friend’s words. “Well you did, you found another spawn. It’s dead though,” Kaden said, looking over to where the body should have been. Right. “Well, alright it was already dead, I mean dusted.” Yeah he wasn’t used to the easy cleanup that came with slaying. Really it was unfair that beat hunting didn’t have this sort of advantage. “Sure you are.” Kaden started to clean off his weapons, start putting them back where they belonged, pistol in its holster, stake in his pocket, knife in its sheath. “It’s fine, you know. To not be okay,” he told Alain, still not meeting his friend’s eyes, almost as if to give him some moment of privacy with his emotions. “You two seemed really--” Happy. He knew the word would cut like a knife, didn’t want to say it aloud. “So I’m sure it sucks. Finding out that you accepted her. And not the other way around.” It was the reason why Kaden had been too afraid to even try to tell Regan what he was or what he did. And part of him felt like he was still only halfway there. The fear of rejection ran deep and seeing it end like this? It didn’t exactly inspire him to delve deeper. “It’s okay if you’re not okay. I’ve got your back either way.”

Alain, who had yet to muster his feelings together, managed to finally glance away from the mausoleum, from the circle of turpitude he could have so easily thrown himself into. Getting lost in his thoughts had been his main problem lately, and so he tried to focus on what Kaden said to him, although he didn’t smile as the other hunter corrected himself. There was something endearing about it, but he did not budge. Not quite out of torpor yet. “Right,” of course he was full of shit, and Alain did not think for once that Kaden could have believed that. Even the slayer himself did not believe this bullshit. Pinching his nose, he held a hand against his mouth for a moment. Did he want to talk about Evelyn? Or about them? He focused on his breathing. The subject could easily draw him into a fit of anger, or sorrow. He did not want that. He could feel the air filling up his lungs. That was a soothing feeling. That helped. “I should have seen that coming. We live in a world full of hypocrites, don’t we. Look at us.” Hunters who claimed they had a sense of duty, except when they happened to like that one person or creature. Hypocrites, everywhere. Some paid for it, some did not. He happened to be on the wrong side of the coin. People liked to hate hunters, until they needed one. He knew that. He really should have known better. “I guess I’m not okay,” he admitted with a raise of his shoulders. This small shrug might have not been much, but it was not often that Alain confessed to being affected by things. Pride might have been the one thing he did inherit from his father. “I just need the nightmares to go away now,” every single one of those reminded him of her. Without those he could move on, right? “And well, whatever those hallucinations are,” he motioned toward the mausoleum, turning his back on it.

There were plenty of times Kaden wondered why people bothered with him. He didn’t always know what to do with emotions or how to be properly supportive. He wasn’t Morgan or Bea, he didn’t know how to have a conversation or how to force it. He didn’t know what Alain actually needed beyond staking a few vampires. Catharsis through anger and violence, that’s what he knew. That he understood and could facilitate. Anything else? He was lost. It didn’t help that his situation was in a different position. Their similarities were so palpable and differences so stark by comparison. Still his brow creased at the word hypocrite. Sure. That wasn’t wrong. But the word didn't settle. He couldn’t let it, couldn’t swallow it down. If he did, he’d have to live with that feeling of being wrong, feeling wrong. He’d prefer to stave that off a little longer, keep it at arm’s length, delay the inevitable. “Yeah, well, still sucks. I’m sorry. You can do better, anyway.” Kaden continued pacing up his gear, inspecting it, making sure nothing needed repairs or care later. He didn’t know if Alain believed him or wanted to hear it, but it was true. He could do better than a monster. He didn’t have to hang his hopes on someone who couldn’t accept him for what he was or what he did. He could have better than that. Maybe now wasn’t the time to bring it up, though. He sighed. “No shit you’re not okay. I can see you. I know.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his way. He was no expert on how to avoid bad dreams. His plan was usually just not to sleep. “Well, you can always try that baku that Blanche has.” His blood curdled at the suggestion of a supernatural solution. It felt wholly wrong. The supernatural was the problem not the solution. Wasn’t it? He didn’t know anymore. “That or time, you know. It fades with time.” That’s what everyone said, anyway. The grief of loss faded with time. He supposed it was true. It did dull. He wasn’t sure it faded or just meant less. Guess the reason didn’t matter if the result was the same, right? “Well, looks like we cleared this place out. Want to head back?”

Kaden’s dismissal of the hypocrisy drew a grumbling sound from the other hunter. Alain didn’t make any comment but he looked a mix of disappointed and offended as he looked away from the other man. His brows furrowed and he shook his head. It was not so much being with someone that he missed. Being alone was fine, really. It was her that he missed, but that was something he had to work on. He couldn’t afford to dwell on that, he did not want to, and maybe Kaden was right when he said that he could do better, whatever that meant. Not Alain cared enough for relationships to find better. He had been content being by himself all those years, and he had to be realistic : he did not have many years left anyway. It was selfish to start something with anyone. Rubbing at his face, he nodded then shook his head at the next suggestion. As much as Alain wanted the mara’s after effects to fade away as soon as possible, he was not keen on the idea of letting a monster in his house again. He remembered what Evelyn had said about those too. Then, he really wanted those nightmares gone. They no longer happened every day, not even every week, but he still had some every fortnight, and they stuck. “I suppose time does that,” of course it would fade away, the memories, the meaning of things. “We can head back,” he agreed, kicking at the dusty remains of that mausoleum spawn. Fucker. “You wanna stop by the house for a drink or you’re good?”

“Yeah I think I can do that,” Kaden said with a smile. He gestured for Alain to lead the way. Truth was, he had almost intended to go back to Regan’s right after. It felt wrong, though, running back to her when his friend was hurting more than he was going to let on. It didn’t matter. She’d wait. Hell, she might not even be off of work for another hour or so. Either way, that didn’t matter. Whether she understood or not mattered little, too. The slayer needed some support, even if it was small and silent solidarity. That much Kaden could manage. “Let’s hope the way stays clear on the way back. Or not. If you think you still have it in you, old man,” he said with a joking elbow as they made their way out the cemetery back home.

#wickedswriting #writing #chatzy #alain #carbrakesandstakes #If It Wasn't for the Nights #yes that is an abba song b/c ofc it is

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grim-faux · 4 years ago

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18 - The Witness

There were three or four of them, I’m not sure, I didn’t stop to count. I froze up for about two seconds as they slowly approached, detecting my movement, the sudden charge of nerves as everything in my head suddenly shut down and reboot instantaneously. It smelt like burning cotton. I gave a small gasp as my brain shot into gear and I teetered around the side of the desk, the wood squeaked against the floor as my thighs knocked the sides. “Hey! Hey!” Fuck! I sprint to the front of the room, stumbling as the image in my visor flashed and flickered. No! No-no-no-no! My camera survived a two hundred foot fall, and when against all odds I managed to retrieve it, it fizzles out and dies! No! Don’t do this!

The image cleared in time for me to spot the counter with the shattered glass. I vault over it as the patients call after me, shrieking profanities along with the promise of excruciating demise. Something whizzed by, inches from my head and clattered into the distance. I never saw what it was. I swung around the sharp corner, stumbling as I regained traction and my camera flashed static. Damn! I lowered it enough to see the dark punch of the doorway, contrasted against the soft glow in the windows. I shot through the doorframe into the next room, jerking around the gleaming shelves that swept into my path. The camera’s image failed as I bumped and fumbled my way through the room, white flashed through my eyes as my hand struck the sharp metal edge of a shelf. I heard a deafening crash as one of the patients in hot pursuit, smashed dead into a shelf and the whole line of them erupted at my back. I glimpsed over my shoulder to evaluate the damage, and saw two of my pursuers at my heels.

I passed by a door but didn’t bother to slam it shut on them, I was already charging through the open cafeteria where the patients gazed into oblivion. A flash of light filled the room, I felt a hand sweep against my collar as I picked up speed, rounding the counters on the rooms left. Where was it I came from? Doors! Big doors, right by the counters. The hall took another left, just around the corner was a rolling table on my left. Without a thought I snared the handle and wrenched it behind me, the wheels squeaked up until a painful crash sounded when the half blind lunatics ran into it.

A snarled, “FUCK YOU!” echoed behind me.

Maybe that was a mistake, too late to regret it. At either side of the hall locked doors lined my path, for once an asset. My progress had been linear enough, I couldn’t recall hallways that I might’ve overlooked. Find the light, the lockers, then closet. Don’t stop, never stop till I’m dead!

The next corner took a hard right, I stumbled and hit the opposite wall and pushed off, keeping course on what was my only direction. The hard footfalls of the patients echoed around the corner, they would catch up. They were still upset with me, I’m sure.

Another left, I’m blinded as I tear through, still staring in the nightvision as the lamp overhead blazes down. I barely blink as I stuff the camera strap between my teeth. Almost there. I lunge over the bed frame panting hard against the Velcro strap, concerns of where my hands have been and where the cameras been far away in a place that no longer existed. It feels like the patients are right behind me shrieking. Any moment I’d be yanked back, my throat slit, skull beat to a pulp. No. No-no-no-no-

A sharp right and I’m in the locker/closet. Yes! Here! This was it! Home free! I leapt, catching the roof of the lockers and dragged my body up.

The obnoxious drone of drumming water greets me, blocking out the curses of the men below struggling to scale the locker. I exhaled a sharp breath, not bothering to care how much my ribs ached, or the blood now coating my hand. I’d deal with it all later, what mattered was I’d gotten out with my life, and my camera. I wanted to appreciate the small accomplishment, reuniting with my invaluable piece of hardware, and the small pride I felt in the escape. Let me get out of this washroom first, I just couldn’t enjoy this with the fuckin white noise aggravating my head. I took the camera strap from my teeth and moved toward the other side of the room, reminding myself to remain cautious despite how well these events turned out. I needed to put this room behind me, in case the variants managed to stay focused long enough to get up into here. There was also the point that I was in a relatively good mood, and something terrible must happen to spoil that. It always seemed too happen. It was a curse of the Asylum. Try not to think about getting grabbed from behind and drugged with a giant needle. That was a prime example, as it was a massive insult to my pride. I reached the other side of the showers, from which I first entered the room, and crawled under the interior frame work of the wall. I remained huddled in the shadows for a moment to reassure there was no one waiting, that I was alone. The hall was empty, on the far right I could now see was a doorway at one point, but those of Mount Massive had fixed that. Unless, all this time the patients have been the ones to block doorways and cram furniture into the halls. Interesting thought. Made a little sense too, but I doubt it mattered anymore. The opposite side of the hall held another door, presumably that led to the showers and other venues. I didn’t bother to try it, though it was clearly blocked. I took it slow into the next room, the vivid memory of shapes and faces watching my progress fresh in my mind. I winced as the image rolled in the visor, it knocked me from my brooding, though I was partially blind for the spell. I continued, constantly glancing over my shoulders, twisting as I thought some sound came from a desk or table. Despite the cameras return I was still paranoid about this room, the static didn’t help either. Occasionally, the lightening burned through the atmosphere with a thick rumble, I stopped to listen and make sure I was hearing over the sound of silence. I felt alone here and it was beginning to frighten me more than the patients. Sometimes I preferred being alone, many of the people I worked with were generally assholes, so I preferred it. But I needed people now, I was too deep and craved normalcy, a tether to something reliable. The sound that followed me was deafening, I needed to get out of this crushing silence. Reaching the upper floor was no longer the challenge. The room was as it was left, no longer crumbling into ash. I stepped over the charred wood by the wall and jumped to the edge of the remaining upper floor, and pulled myself up. The floor was settled and had no longer any intention to crash, and scatter the camera or me across the checkerboard tile. The doorway was still here, welcoming me with its swirling dark and its secrets and the promise that through it, I would reach my destination. Whatever that was anymore. Thus far it had been misleading truth, along with one disappointment after the next. I was done with it, but there was still much in store for me. Nothing could ever be easy. I would never be done with this. There would always be something unsettling and dark locked in the back of my mind, nesting in my doubt and feeding on my fear. The hall to my right led to blocked doors, dead end. I turned to my left, first seeing the rupture in the floor before taking the leap. I will forever have this unreasonable fear that I will fall and lose my camera. And I will always clutch it tight in my right hand, until the bone is worn down into my skin. It hurt like a bitch when I did that. Due to my paranoia I saw it fit to shut a door with a large gaping hole behind it. I don’t know, maybe a patient will wandered through here, break down the door and fall to his death. Seemed like a reasonable assumption. Beyond the doorway was a segregation gate on my right, possibly leading to one of the floors I visited earlier. Or maybe the stairway where I found the Walrider folklore file, it was locked and therefore a dead end. Another door tempted me on the left but the latch was jammed. The floor creaked under foot as I moved towards the lit doorway ahead. I tried not to rest my full weight on one board for too long, and listened as the wood spoke of its pain, long wretched moans as it shifted. It was getting tricky to anticipate which portions were trustworthy but I was cautious. I stepped through the open gate at the halls end, even from a distance I could see the fires consumption. Nothing remained of the room I was in, a few pieces of wood that had not fallen away. Below, I took note of the doorway ‘Father’ Martin had hailed me from. He said I could find a way across on the upper floors, but he was on the lower floor the whole time. Damn that guy. As I moved out further onto the charred ledge, the floor crocked and gave out. I threw myself backwards into the doorway, as the wood snapped away, timber crashed down until the supports locked and held it in place. Holy crap. My breath came in short gasps, I nearly thought the floor was just going to fall out. Weakly, I laughed. I needed a way down that didn’t involve a too dangerous stunt. Most of the floor had fallen away, I wasn’t about to take the leap, even if I didn’t doubt the wood could hold my weight. From this height the least of my worries would be a snapped leg. Through the NV I spied a small portion of the wood on my left, still intact, and it wasn’t too short I had to shuffle along. I hopped over and judged my footing, trying not find the one loose board that would— I staggered back when the wood under me fell out, and I sat on my butt staring at the small space that at one time felt solid. Step lightly, take your time. I carried on, jumping across a short gap to the far wall and moved to the edge of the walkway that remained after the fire. The smell of charcoal was getting to me, not to mention whatever else was reduced to ash in the blaze. Bodies, plastic, chemicals, cotton. Across from my position, pieces of the floors support held tight to the wall. I jumped over snagging the burnt wood and used it to lower myself to the small pace below, and then dropped. I glanced around my new surroundings, and took in the patient standing at the end of a fully lit hall. My head buzzed with the realization but I tried to keep calm, think clearly. I lowered my camera and straightened up from my crouch. He was clothed, only half of my brain screamed warning. I took slow, calm steps toward him, aware of the high drop at my backside. He watched me, occasionally throwing his eye to the gate he stood beside. It looked horrible the way his face had been stitched, and the ear on his left was completely gone. I paused when he gave a short gesture with his hand, towards his eyes, then looked to the door again. “Only one way out. Only one way.” I looked from him to the door, then back to him. He looked like he could just throw me in. Rather tempt him I stepped by, through the doorway and looked back as he swung it shut. “How do you know you’re not a patient?” For some reason, and I can’t explain why, this question jarred me to the core. Why? Rather rebuke such an insulting inquiry, I began to doubt my own presence here. Who was my mysterious contact, exactly? David Annapurna? He never made it out of here, did he? Murkoff… couldn’t have been in the dark about his mutemail account, could they? The company was always on top of those sort of things. “The experiment is still happening” yelled someone. That had been forever ago. Through all the evidence I had seen, Murkoff was finished. Weren’t they? Or was someone still alive running this place, while I scrambled about prodding at the surface, in the meantime the real evidence was hidden away in vaults I would never access. I suddenly felt like the biggest idiot in the world. I had already established that this was the worst mistake of my career. But one question from some lunatic has caused me to doubt everything I had been through. I pressed my forehead into my palm, ignoring the thick smell of charcoal or the fact I was probably rubbing it into my bloody scalp. What was I here to achieve? What was I to gain from this job? Expose Murkoff? Or did ulterior plans await in the woodwork, that I had not been made privy to yet? I crouched under a jungle of shelves and cabinets that had been crammed into the hall, the short plush carpet now under foot filled me with a warmth that I had missed. Whatever was happening, it wouldn’t happen to me. I’m not a part of this process the patients had been put through, I’ve never endured this ‘therapy’ the doctors implemented on their MKULTRA subjects. I was going to get out of here, with all the evidence on this camera, the one I risked my life for! And Murkoff will be buried so deep Satan– no, the Walrider, would be insulted by the company. There goes the neighborhood! Light filled the hall, momentarily blinding me through the NV feed. I took note the cheerful curtains hung along the windows on the left, and I could see the rain falling against the heavy grade chicken wire stretched outside. No thick, rusted bars, no moldered, outdated wood. The droplets clung in thick globs along the crisscrossing squares, the image flashed causing me to lower the camera and rub at my eyelids. It was at this point I finally noticed my camera, or the visor, was cracked. That explained the short glitches, but it still worked. To be certain I leaned on a bookcase and played back some of the recent footage to make sure it was recording. I didn’t realize it, but when the patient had related to me there was only “one way out,” someone had muttered a soft “thank you,” and listening to it, I realized that had been my voice. Huh. I don’t remember that. I might, should’ve been a little more concerned, but there was a lot lately I was missing. I took it as shell shock, it would be weird if I was unaffected. For months, maybe years, I would be reliving this nightmare. But at least I’ll be far away from it, and living. That was more than what Murkoff’s staff had accomplished. A few new marks were etched up the cameras plastic casing, a large crack now along the side where it must’ve hit the board before falling through the floor, or where it came down on the floor below. It was holding up and recording, if not, it still provided my light source. Char was smeared all over its sides where my fingers pressed into it. The soot had clotted much of the bleeding since my recent mishap, at least until I hit them on something else sharp and painful. More shelves and desks had been lodged into the hall, I pushed out one of the chairs that was between the stack and continued on through easily. The dull throb in my ribs was overshot by the buzzing in my bones, like I’d been shot with a Taser but without the seizing and screaming. Just the hammering in my skull. I cleared the gap a little more and listened. Nothing. Cautiously, I moved forward keeping eyes focused on my direction. The modern side of the Asylum was almost more unsettling than the outdated section. Almost. With the clean walls, the lack of furnaces, and the fresh carpet. The initial appearance was such a major deception. I moved through another broken segregation gate into the bright gleam of a lamp, on the wall to my right a plaque hung labeling directions. Chapel, Cafeteria, Recreational Hall, Library, and Lobby. Was I on the third floor? I was losing focus, couldn’t figure where I was. Father Martin had mentioned where I would wind up, I doubt I was keen on listening to his preaching at the time. This hall would lead somewhere. As I turned holding my head, a shape moved at the halls end, beyond a glass door. I zoomed on my camera and heard the crack of wood, before the shadow ducked out of view. Big fucker! I dashed to the nearest door at my left, exhaling with relief to find it unlocked. He was already bashing another door somewhere, I ducked inside and shut myself in. The room was well furnished with couches set up in one half of the room, above them a cheerful lamp blazed forth. The carpet sounded strange to my ears after I had become accustomed to the rickety wood floors, and charcoal. In the furthest right corner desks and monitors, beside them a fireplace. On the wall to my right sat a bookshelf filled with encyclopedias, among other texts whose labels and a few files. I didn’t care for how homey the room was made out to be, or how pleasant it felt to stare at something other than bloodied floors and puss coated walls. Out there Chris Walker had not given up on his personal vendetta. I slipped down beside a desk and watched the door, listening for the trademark sounds of big fucker demolition. Where did I need to go? First floor should be my new objective, those doors would lead to the front grounds of the Asylum. I never unlocked them though. Don’t think that far ahead! Have to get by the big fucker first, then worry about finding the way out. If he corners me, I will be dead. Think. There has to be a way out of this area. A door, something! Where did he come from? Meanwhile, I felt the tremors as Chris pummeled another door into oblivion. Three earsplitting crunches, followed by the earth splinting tremor as the wood gave, allowing the big fucker to hunt new ground. I had to think carefully, if he couldn’t enter a room he would tear his way in, by whatever means. But I wouldn’t be completely trapped if he found me here, a second door was set a few feet down from where I entered. After some careful consideration I came to a decision, not one I was particularly fond of, but it was better than waiting for him to burst into the room. I had maybe one chance, unless I could find another room to hide in before he saw me. I made sure I had a firm grip on the camera, then loosened myself from the desk I was crouched beside and crossed to the door at the other side of the room. Both needed to be open, this room was my plan B if the other plan went to shit. I leaned on the door frame to check out, the light failed to reach this end of the hall forcing me behind the NV feed once more. It set me to ease, I was less likely to be seen poking out with my camera scanning for the big fucker. I felt the trademark crunching of oak, before I caught the movement of his work. I felt the wall quake with a final crash and the large shape slipped out of sight. I dashed across the hall into a joint corridor filled with dark shadows, but to my disappointment discovered the end was a blocked by a grate and some office chairs. Nonetheless, I climbed over the chairs to test the handle and myself, that there was no way through here. I returned to the main corridor and knelt by the corner to check. Chris was coming this way! My visor flashed, and I slunk back as the feed cleared. The sound of chain twitter drew closer and closer, oddly reminiscent to the noise I thought I heard. It was unbearable in this place and time, I pressed myself into the wall struggling to block it out. The whole time I’m half ready to bolt or half working to rub down the nerve to keep still until the absolute last second. The sounds give way to splinting and a crack as the big fucker threw himself against another door. It was enough to drown out the tremors in my muscles. Until the door gave a final snap and shattered. I poked my head out to confirm he had entered a room, somewhere. My next target was a door across from me, the hairline crack of light shone through the dismal hall. I couldn’t make out where Chris had gone, I only wanted to get into that room and out before I was cornered there. My worst fear was that it would be another tiny broom closet. I swatted the door open and entered, it wasn’t a tiny closet, it was a tiny lounge. A long table ran parallel to the back wall, some chairs pinned behind it, high on the wall to my right was a large screen splattered with dry blood. What caught my attention was a vent that cut through the room overhead, dust or condensation spilled across the ceiling. The flue above the table had snapped partially and hung sideways by two screws. I slammed the door shut and dragged out one of the chairs and braced it under the handle. That might buy me some time. I doubt I had much time to work, in the past ten seconds I had not been discrete with my activities. The screws didn’t look sturdy, they were tiny and the vent looked ready to fall off. But when I climbed onto the table prepared to wrestle it off, the screws held tight. No thank you, I was not going to roll over and take this. Once securing the camera in its pack, I reached over and pulled up another chair. They were light enough I could get one above my head with minimal pain, I braced myself as I swung the legs out across the grate. It echoed and bent, but held. A second attack caught the chairs leg in the grating, and I wrenched ripping one screw loose. The cover fell and I dumped the chair in order to clamber into the opening/exit.

Before I could heave myself up into the flue, I paused to glance one last time at the static filled screen. The mist swirled around the pulsing light of the screen, but there was something more. Some… sort of image? The crackle filled my skull as I gazed, senses lost. The distant recollection that Chris still hunted for me was there, but…

I reached for the camera, but decided against it. For one, the image was overlapped. I raised my hand against the bright screen and the image was still clear, unobstructed by my hand. I leaned back as it fluctuated and squirmed, just like the thing I saw in the dark. It’s face—

Without a thought I clambered up into the vent, my head throbbing. Just keep going. The way out, it can’t be much further. This vent must lead back to the main room, if not, wherever I wound up I could navigate somewhere more tolerable from there.

One side was bared shut, I didn’t need to bother with it either. I struggled to get my camera out of its case, then turned and shuffled in the opposite direction, to where dead eyes gazed at me. At some distance I had to stop and stare back. A sharp pain bore its way into the back of my skull, and I pressed my forehead into the cool metal and held out as the pain pulsed. I’ll get through this. Need to keep moving. A draft moved from my right, I crawled into the connecting vent trying to bear with the throbs beating my brain. A short ways in and the vent twisted further to the right and opened into another office. I shut off the NV to rest my eyes and pulled forward, to drop gently onto the sticky flood. Blood trickled beneath the only doorway, I didn’t want to imagine what might lay on the other side. A book shelf had toppled spilling files and psychology volumes across the floor, a desk was beside the wall with another shelf that remained upright and stacked with more boxes and files. Bottom line, it was another dead end. Some of the files I sifted through mentioned some of the shady work of the Asylum, with some of the patients BEFORE Mount Massive was shut down. There remained current files, and many of the lower level staff expressed the usual concerns and confusion with the lack of progress their patients made with standardized treatment. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] subject: Patient WILLIAM HOPE Heya Cindy~ Another “interesting” conversation with Billy this morning. He says he’s been talking to Dr. Wernicke again for his therapy “in the white place.” I’m disturbed by the fact his delusions have only gotten worse with medication, (which isn’t in the literature for benzodiazepine.) In any case, his dead doctor friend is filling his head with German folklore. Apparently the only thing that can kill the Walrider are vampiric butterflies vomited from a demon called “Horerczy.” the butterflies suck the breath from people’s lips and drink blood from their nipples. They can also take the form of emaciated upright pigs, or sick dogs. So Billy’s got that going for him. You’d mentioned Billy talking about his mother’s tattoos before, are any of them by chance tattoos of butterflies? Next time I get outside of the Murkoff firewall, I’m going to look online and see if there’s any actual basis in German folklore, or if Billy’s making this garbage up from whole cloth. Would love to compare notes sometime. Wouldn’t mind doing it over a glass of wine. . Gets lonely up here on Two. – Kurt Billy Hope. I’m sure I’ve heard the name mentioned a few times before. I sat on the desk and pressed my fingers over my brow, hoping to steady the pain. What was his connection to the Walrider? He was one of the failed experiments, but like all the other patients he was apparently having dreams about the dead doctor. “Wernicke’s waiting for me there.” I shuddered at the recollection. None of them had ever… seen Wernicke. I had to remind myself, he had not lived long enough to reach the Asylum. They knew about him through their dreams. A sort of mass hallucination, more of Murkoff’s tampering and conditioning, the H therapy. “Blood dreams,” Billy reportedly called it. He was dead to them because they only encountered him in dream. That was how the dead doctor performed his experiments on the living patients. What a chilling epiphany. Vampiric Butterflies. I snorted out a laugh as I flopped back onto the desk. I wonder if there was a Horerczy in the area I could rent out. The vent seemed colder this time, the floor too painful to touch with my bare hands. I curled my fingers into my coat sleeves to ward off some of the chill as I crawled back into the section with the stiff corpse. I pushed my face against my collar and made an effort not to breath in the thick fumes of flesh, fetid in the tight walls about my shoulders. It only made matters worse that his dried out eyes were fixed on me while I moved closer. God, he looked awful. He needed to be out of my way. I stuffed my camera into the pack and pressed my hands against the fabric of his greasy shirt. Ugh. There was so much wrong with this, I couldn’t begin. His neck and spine gave a gruesome crack as his body tumbled out of the vent, and a dull Thwack! came from below when he hit. Sounded like a rotten watermelon I dropped out of a tree once. A few of the insects nesting in his corpse took flight and hummed about, dazed and agitated. I gazed down and braced myself to drop, didn’t need to go trampling his corpse too. This place. I knew this place. It felt like a long time ago, but I’ll never forget the window I went flying out of. Or… the place that it had begun. I was standing in the glassed in upper floor where I had first entered Mount Massive. I walked along the wall towards the stacked and crammed bookcases and desks, where the big fucker first welcomed me into the Asylum. The small gap I had entered was stuffed with broken chairs and another cabinet, it looked as though the big guy had tried to climb over the slaughter of furniture himself, with poor results. I tried to crawl over myself. This was the beginning of the nightmare, it would only be fitting as the end. The first shelf I attempted to scale cracked, I flopped forward catching myself on my hand as the entire collection of furniture shifted, nearly pinning my arm. It did, the corner of a chair pinned my right hand with the exposed bone. A strangled yowl lurched from my throat before I slapped a filthy hand over my mouth to stifle the sound, I sobbed briefly as the nerves blazed in my knuckle. Why did I think that was a good idea? I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my free hand against the chair’s legs in order to twist my hand free, then crumpled to the floor holding my wrist. That had been stupid. My shoulders trembled but I continued to hold my hand, allowing blood to collect along my fingers. The door to the library was open, that sickly familiar sweet decay climbed out on some invisible draft. What irony it’d be if I stumbled in to find a concealed way to the exit, the discovery would be the last nail in the coffin. I shuddered at the allegory. The room was dark, I needed my camera out anyway and did my best to scrap some blood onto a cleaner section of my shirt. Insects invaded my space, attracted to scent of death that clung to me, and the fresh blood that spilled. I didn’t have the time or energy to dissuade their persistence, to acknowledge them reminded me of the state I was currently in. For a short while I held the camera awkwardly in my left hand, while the right continued to bleed out. Blood stains led into the room, but I expected worse awaited inside. I stood at the edge of the black veil and listened keenly for sounds, the labored snorts of a man with his face fuck started off. I don’t think I could survive another toss out a window. I entered slowly, it was quiet but for a subtle trickling— Something flittered in my vision, I sprang back against the door frame. Nothing was there, I was imagining things. The camera kept buzzing. My heart was racing. Rows of bookshelves filled the room, it looked like they had meetings here with the two tables set together near the back, along with a dry erase board shoved into the corner. The wall was lined with windows and what little light that found its way in, washed across the papers scattered over the floor and desks. The few pages I looked over had heavy black bars censoring every other sentence or line. What shocked me most about this room was the lack of corpses despite the musty odor in the air. I recalled what lay in the rooms not far from my current position, and decided not to dwell on the matter further. I stepped around a filing cabinet and rows of bookshelves, pausing as the feed sputtered but returned to normal. I resumed, locating the desk set before the furthest window, with two – one monitor stationed on it. The fractured lens made it appear as though there were two monitors. A few files sat on the desk, which I took up as I ventured to check the other side of the room. It was so quite it was eerie, I could hear my heart thumping in my chest as I rounded the bookshelf half expecting some madman to lunge out at me screaming. When I focused on the NV it felt as though I had seen someone, heard them too. I had to pause and hold my head while the echo subsided. Nothing there. My nerves. My stomach twisted and I waited for the nausea to pass. At the front of the room was a cracked door jammed in its frame, on the left a few chairs and a small table with a shriveled up plant on it. I reached out and stroked the brittle leaves and watched as they snapped under the gentle touch. The potted plant was a metaphor for me. It was trapped in an Asylum, shriveled up and pretty much dead, yet, it still stood here in its dry potting soil. It still looked like a plant. And here I was, torn to shit, my mind scrambled, jumping at every sound, and I was using a plant as a metaphor for my life. This was a nice little reprieve, felt like things were almost normal again. But that grainy sound I couldn’t shake. It had to be in the walls. I returned to the light outside, first peering around the door frame before I emerged fully and sat beside the door. The folder was a little worn and its spine flimsy, but it carried more files than it should. Black specks had dried across the front, which I already knew to be blood. I tried to ignore the way my beat up hands quivered as I focused the camera and took images of some of the pages, I think some I didn’t bother to let the lens focus enough. (Translated from German) BERLIN 6.Sept.1938 Reichsleiter Lohner and Dr. Med. Rogge I have pressing news concerning the ongoing work of Dr. Rudolph Wernicke in his development of the Morphogenic Engine, expanding on theories developed during his brief but unfortunate relationship with A. Turing. If I had not witnessed it myself, I would not believe it had happened. But beyond even the promise in cellular regeneration and guided cancerogeneration, I believe Wernicke’s method has breached the spiritual realm. Something has crossed from the other side. I personally witnessed the appearance of an apparition. Briefly, but undeniably so. Please forward my note, and invitation to witness further experiments to Dietrich Eckart. I do not doubt that the Fuhrer himself may need be made aware of our discoveries. It is my opinion that Dr. Wernicke’s successes represent an enormous opportunity for our cause and the German people, and are obviously sufficient reasons to keep him out of any sort of culling program. Regards to your family. (signature illegible) That shed some light on nothing in particular, other than confirming that Wernicke had begun the work that Murkoff was involved with. The morphogenic engine. It felt like everything I had seen, reading and gathering, was all being repeated back to me. But it was starting to make sense what the pages were saying. The sounds I was hearing, they couldn’t really be there. I shut my eyes and for a moment lay back against the wall and focused on the hum in my muscles. Something was in the air of this place, transmitting through the walls and reverberating through the molecules. A sub level drone of something constant, a persistent noise that never had a beginning that I could identify, something in the mountain air. As I concentrated the sound almost dispersed entirely, until it was null. If I untangled myself from the chorus, the slightest edges of it crept back into my mind until it hurt like my bones were on fire. I gripped my camera tighter, solidifying my consciousness in this place, in my private set of molecules. The blood was drying on my hand, sticking between my fingers and the device, yet I didn’t care. I sat up more and felt the tremors rolling through my muscles. Had to get up, walk this… whatever it was off. I turned myself, keeping a hand on the wall for support as I moved. There was a door I had avoided up until now, beside where I entered above from the vent. A bright red and yellowed stain had spread down the wallpaper from the outlet, where the body had bled out. Even lying folded in his ragdoll mess of spoiled muscle and skin, the dead man’s eyes seemed focused on me as I hobbled by. I hid my face beside my arm as I reached for the door. I leaned into the Plexiglas dismayed that it would be locked, until I realized it needed to be PULLED open. I dragged it shut behind me and took in this side of the room. Stairs on my right led down to the ground floor, before them at the wall was a segregation gate that I judged to be locked. Red and smeared footprints crossed from the left side portion of the room, from an elevator, to directly where I stood. They were large prints, twice the size of an elephant’s foot. The big fucker could work the elevator? What next? Was he capable of learning how to open doors? Shit. “You’re him?” I hesitated from tracking the steps on the carpet. The voice called from the other side of the elevator, behind a segregation gate that jutted out onto the floor. “Yes. I’m supposed to tell you— the key to the House of God is in the theater. Behind the light.” There was some good distance between him and myself. I just stared at him, probably blankly, I probably looked stupid. “Huh?” “In the theater,” he indicated to my left with his hand, “behind the light.” I wasn’t really on the same page as him. I shut my eyes and lowered the camera as the image pulsed. “B- what?” “You have to see the movie. So that’s where he left the card. Okay?” This was not making any sense. “Did you say card?” We glanced off in unison, distracted by Father Martin’s voice hailing from somewhere distant. And far. “Friends! Children!” Not far enough from me. “I need your help, where are you?” I sighed. “Yes! Coming. I’m coming.” The ‘disciple’ sounded about as thrilled as I was. He gave one last wave toward the open door on my left, before turning and jogging up the stairs behind him. It looked like he was following the path indicated with a red arrow painted on the wall behind the railing. I tried the handle. Locked. Of course, he already told me I needed the key from the ‘House of God’ as he put it. How was I supposed to get in if I didn’t get it? Why WAS I going to find it? I don’t know. I was insatiable curious to figure out this disaster and understand at long last, why I have been hunted and nearly killed by these lunatics. I needed to know. Even if it killed me. I needed evidence of what I’ve been hearing, the reassurance that I was still sane despite the trauma, despite everything I had seen. There was a concrete difference between what the patients thought they had witnessed, and what I felt. I had to find the end of this, and nothing would stop me, not until it was in my grasp.

#outlast #outlast novelized #miles upshure #outlast fanfiction

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Moral Arguments

Summary:

Crowley doesn't exactly take assignments anymore, but sometimes he does things for fun - like answering the call of a broken-hearted woman summoning a demon on St. Valentine's Day. But what Crowley thinks is going to be a simple hex-and-go turns into more emotionally charged than he bargained for.

Notes:

Inspired in part by this post.

(AO3)

“Creatures of the Underworld …”

“Yup. That’s me.”

“… on Earth and below …”

“Gotcha.”

“… I summon thee!”

Crowley throws up his hands in frustration. Ten more minutes of this, and he’s going to start pulling his hair out.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m summoned! I’m summoned! Let’s get a move on, will ya? I’m late for a date!”

“Demons of vengeance! Hear my plea! Do my bidding!”

“Let’s have at it then, girlie!”

“Lords of the Dark!”

“Oh, bollocks! Here we go again!”

“I, Samantha Westin of West Berkshire, call you to my aid!”

“Ugh!”

Crowley, hidden between a dresser and a closet, in a shadow created by several taper candles throwing light, slides down the bedroom wall and sits. He’d been summoned here, but not really. Only very specific spells can truly summon him. It’s not a simple matter of yelling out, “Oi! Demon! Get your bum over here! I need you to do something for me!”

If that were the case, he’d never get a moment’s peace.

But this was different – an amateur incantation but on a day of the year when demons get the greatest (and easiest) opportunity to make mischief – and Crowley appreciates easy; when people from all walks of life will call for a demon like they’re ordering take away and invite them into their homes with little to no thought of the consequences.

St. Valentine’s Day.

Crowley doesn’t do much in the way of official assignments for the big bosses anymore, but old habits die hard, and this one’s too tempting to resist. He’s running late for dinner with his angel, but this was going to be fun. He could risk being a few minutes late.

That’s what he’d originally thought.

He’s closing in on over half-an-hour.

Samantha leans over a book on the floor in front of her. She reads a bit, then jumps nervously. She grabs a container of salt by her knee and spills it out in a circle around her.

A protective ring –a boundary between her and any potential evil.

“Aw!” Crowley coos sarcastically to himself. “She fancies herself a white witch! How adorable!”

He has to give her some credit. Whatever book she bought, it’s from someone who knows an inkling of their stuff. Salt is effective against evil creatures, but only minor ones, like the insects of the demon world. Still, considering no one would want their house invaded by a horde of demonic termites or zombie ants, it’s nothing to sneeze at.

“Find a photograph of the offending and fix your eyes upon it.”

“Okay, okay.” Crowley sits up, wondering if he should miracle himself up a bag of crisps. “Finally! Things are gettin’ good.”

“Tear up the photograph,” she reads, “and proclaim his sins into the dark.” She takes a deep breath, then lets it out. “Okay. Here goes.”

She begins to tear the picture in half, then fourths, and Crowley rubs his hands excitedly together.

“So let’s see. What did this crank handle do, huh, Sammy? Stepped out with another bird, I’ll wager.”

Samantha carefully places the torn pieces of the photograph into a small wooden bowl, part of her arsenal of witchcraft paraphernalia, and sighs. “He left me for my twin sister.”

“Ding, ding, ding! Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” Crowley licks his finger and marks a single, sparking tally into the air. “Well, you should take that as a compliment, love, really. He left for someone who looks exactly like you.”

“He stole my car …”

“Oh, we’re not done.”

“… broke into my house …” She takes a long breath, shuddered by the onset of tears. “He killed my dog …”

The grin that had been spreading on Crowley’s face falls into an immediate frown. “For Satan’s sake! This prick should be working for us.”

The woman stops, bites her lower lip as the tears gathering around her heart begin to fall.

“He hit me. Not just once. Not just twice. And he … he …” Her voice fails her, but she mouths the words, and Crowley rises to his knees, subconsciously gearing up for a fight. This is a new instinct for him, being protective of anyone, specially a mortal. He’s known right and wrong from day one. He’s felt anger over the injustices he’s witnessed, even remorse over the ones he’s helped cause. But, for the most part, he’s been fine sitting on the sidelines, inconveniencing people when he could for the greater good.

It’s a grey area – thwarting a crime. In the end, someone gets hurt or killed. When you’re in the business of harvesting souls, the who doesn’t necessarily matter.

Crowley simply finds a way to harvest a bit more selectively than other demons.

“Holy fuck!” he groans, tossing his head back and staring up at the ceiling. “Why? Why me? This was supposed to be a simple little fun hex-and-go. What am I supposed to do now?”

The real question, he discovers with very little wracking of his brain, is what would Aziraphale do?

“Sprinkle rose water on the pieces of the photograph and set them on fire.”

A conflicted Crowley watches the young lady search for her flask of rose water. He’d seen it beside her a moment ago – a simple vessel of water with roses floating in it that she probably prepared herself. She suddenly seems to remember where she put it because she spins around quickly with an anxious look on her face, mumbling, “No, no, no! Crap!” before she finds it tipped over onto its side. “Dammit!” She examines the empty flask, wet rose petals plastered to the sides, the water that had been inside soaking into her rug. She shakes her head and sets the flask down. “Of course! Of course! Just my luck! Now what am I going to do?” She gets on her hands and knees and goes searching for something to replace the water with. She finds another bottle within reach of her salt circle and grabs it. She reads the label, then gives it a sniff. She consults her book, and shrugs.

“Smells like roses. This should do.”

Crowley squints from the darkness to catch a glimpse of the label. This bottle isn’t rose water. It’s perfume. Not expensive perfume. The kind one buys at a corner market along with their milk and eggs on the way home. Perfume of that caliber is usually teeming with alcohol.

Flammable alcohol.

He watches as she gives the bowl a few spritzes, a subtle floral aroma filling the air. Then she goes for broke, untwists the top, and empties the contents into the bowl. The scent of roses smacks him in the face like a freight train along with an undercurrent of sharp and chemical. She grabs a book of matches, tearing four from the inseam, and strikes them.

“Jesus Christmas! She’s going to light herself on fire!” Flashbacks fill his brain of a heat seared inside his memory like a wound that refuses, even with time and treatment, to heal. Crowley leaps to his feet and materializes from the shadows, rushing at her, waving his hands to get her attention. “Stop! Stop! For Satan’s sake, stop!”

Samantha’s head snaps up. She drops her matchbook and scuttles backward, stopping when her hands hit the salt. With a snap of his fingers, Crowley extinguishes the flame before it has a chance to ignite the bowl.

“What the ---? What the fuck?” Samantha screams. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m a demon!” Crowley pats his chest dramatically as if she might mistake something else for the demon and him for a coat rack. “You know, the one you’ve been summoning?”

“I---I don’t believe in demons!” she yells and for a moment, all of Crowley’s worries about this woman setting herself, her house, and her neighbors ablaze dies with the absurdity of that remark.

“I … huh … what!? If you don’t believe in demons, why the bloody heck are you trying to summon one then? That’s literally the stupidest … you don’t dabble in magicks, young lady! That’s even worse than knowing what you’re doing!”

“It ---it wasn’t supposed to be serious! It was a coping mechanism!”

“Don’t talk to me about coping mechanisms! My entire existence is about coping mechanisms! Don’t do that!” Crowley snaps, catching her with his magic before she can jump to her feet and dive onto her bed for her cell phone. The bed is halfway across the room. Making a break for it would have taken her out of her circle. “Don’t break the ring of salt! Even terrible spells need to be ended correctly!”

“What happens if they aren’t?” she asks, relaxing when he releases his hold over her.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I want to know! I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know!”

“Cheeky little …” he mutters, fishing his phone out of his pocket, realizing how much this young lady and his angel would get along. “Let’s just say if you don’t want to know what it feels like to have your brains liquefied inside your skull and then drunk by demon maggots, you’ll end this spell. Meanwhile, I’m gonna call in some reinforcements.”

“Reinforcements?” Samantha swallows hard. “L---like … more demons?”

“Luckily for you, no. I run with a different crowd.”

“How do I end the spell?”

“Jump to the bottom of the page,” he says, phone to his ear. “It’ll tell you---Aziraphale?”

This isn’t the way Crowley saw this going. Back in the old days, he’d hex the guy and be done with it – make him go bald with his head hair growing out his nose, give him a festering boil on his face that would never heal, make him severely and flatulently allergic to his favorite foods. Only thing was, unbeknownst to the young lady who summoned him, she would be damned, too. That wasn’t even a demonic rule. That one came from the good book itself. It was the kind of two-for-one demons delighted in.

One that came with a divine loophole.

But not anymore.

For some bizarre reason, he’s taking this personally.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice barks over the line. “What the heaven has happened to you? You’re nearly an hour late!”

“I know, angel, I know. I got caught up with work.”

“You’re working? Tonight!?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll explain when I get there.” Crowley glances down at Samantha, reading through the spell, sniffling as the words take her back to why she was doing what she was doing a moment before. “I’ll be bringing work home with me. I need a little help.”

***

“There, there, dear,” Aziraphale says, handing Samantha a cup of tea. “Let’s talk this out, hmm? Tell us everything, and then we can come up with a solution.”

It took Aziraphale close to an hour over the phone to convince Samantha to get into Crowley’s Bentley and accompany him to his bookshop. When he did, he made Crowley swear he’d obey the posted speed limits.

When they arrived in under fifteen minutes, Aziraphale knew he hadn’t.

Remarkable seeing as they stopped along the way to pick up a friend.

“The solution is we should call the police!” Anathema says, bringing over a plate of cookies.

“I … I tried.” Samantha takes the plate with a small but grateful smile. “Everything he’s done, even with the evidence I have against him, and it’s still a his word against mine sort of situation. It’s almost like the police don’t want to listen. Like they think it’s not worth their time.”

“Sounds about right,” Anathema reluctantly admits, dropping onto a nearby sofa and accepting a glass of whiskey from an angrily hissing Crowley as he paces the floor.

Aziraphale watches on with sympathetic eyes. He’d asked Crowley in private why? Why did this mean so much to him? With everything he’d done in the past, why did this one woman’s plight trigger such a strong response? Crowley had confessed that he didn’t know, but mumbled something about those abusing the vulnerable beginning to get under his skin.

“So, what do you suggest, angel?” Crowley asks, peeking up when he feels his husband’s eyes on him. “What does it say in the rule book about dealing with a situation like this when the supposed good guys sit around with their thumbs up their arses?”

“Normally, I would recommend gentle persuasion, and if that doesn’t work, then a little forceful persuasion,” Aziraphale says. “But as I don’t feel the man in question would be receptive to that, and the authorities aren’t in the mood to help, maybe we should skip the usual steps and jump to the end.”

“And what’s the end?” Samantha looks nervously from Aziraphale to Anathema, then to Crowley staring at the man in white with a disbelief that erases the color from his face. All three have gone quiet, but they’ve seem to come to the same conclusion, and it stuns at least two of them.

Samantha is obviously missing something big.

“Well, you did summon a demon, my dear,” Aziraphale says kindly, but with a grave nod to his husband. “I’d say it’s about time that demon got to work.”

“Are you serious?” Anathema yelps, but not in a way that indicates she disagrees. In fact, she looks fully on board with this plan – whatever it is.

“What about the whole damnation clause thing?” Crowley asks in a lower than low whisper.

“Find a loophole, my dear. That’s what you do.”

Crowley grins, impressed at the ability of his innocent Aziraphale to straddle the grey line as well as he. During a discussion about guns, his angel had once said that they lend weight to a moral argument when wielded by the right people. He wonders if this falls under the same category. “Right. And what about dinner?”

Aziraphale escorts his demon to the door, kissing him softly on the lips before showing him out. “It’ll keep.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #Good Omens Fanfic #Frankie writes

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cola-fucking-losers · 5 years ago

Photo

as promised heres the stupid thing-

Edd was definitely chubby, he can't deny that. In fact, he's pretty sure there's a lot of times where he feels bad about it, before he starts to get over it. Not until there was an afternoon he and Matt got into a heated debated about the meaning of 'Thicc' and why is it a trend.

Matt of course lost, seeming that he lacked the braincells to really process everything. It brought satisfaction to Edd, but he did start to wonder if he was considered 'Thicc'

No, he wasn't talking about having large hips and an ass so curved you can search for its equation. He was wondering if he, a grown man who probably has diabetes, can look nice wearing tight clothes. Specifically, ones for below that always bring out the curves on people.

Tom pointed this out first, joking about it before Edd's brain started to overanalyze it. So now Edd has to go through a phase where he's angry at Tom for that.

Matt decided to say "Why don't you try some on?" Before shoving some clothes onto the brunette's face. He huffs, and tosses them away, refusing to participate.

He cringes at the shorts he was given, it looked uncomfortably tight. And the stockings were no good either because there's no way in hell he was gonna wear fishnet stockings. He picked up a tight pair of jeans, and he was pretty sure those belonged to Mark, so he tossed them away too. He picks up....he picks up a piece of underwear that he quickly deleted from his memory.

Everything looked either uncomfortably compact, or looked like something you'd find in an adult-themed clothe shop. Edd tossed them all away.

Matt had to pick them up, offended. "Why won't you put them on?"

And before Edd could explain why you can't just suddenly recommend someone to wear something uncomfortably explicit, Mark explained it himself. "Those look like they're for stripping rather than making Edd feel nice."

It's times like these Edd forgives Mark and the times he was rudely sarcastic.

Matt hums, before he dashed back into his room. And once the Red-head returns, he was carrying a smaller stack of clothes. He sets them down, and lets Edd examine.

And finally, he finds some clothes that looked nice and comfortable, without making him look like someone who's about to work in a strip club.

Edd's fingers traced the outside of a piece of shorts. "Well-...I guess I'll try them."

He wasn't really the type to even consider wearing something that even tried to hug his skin. He'd rather wear large clothes that were loose. But trying wouldn't hurt...right?

Actually it did, a bit. He first wanted to try some jeans. They didn't look TOO tight, so he figured he'd try that first on. And he regrets it.

It took what felt like hours to even properly shove his whole left leg in. He had to stop to catch his breath, and then he struggled again just so he can lift up the hem up to his waist.

Though the battle tested his patience, he won. He successfully put on the jeans. He felt like he deserved a price, so he steps out his room. And walking unto the kitchen, he passes Eduardo who was busy cooking and grabs a can of cola from the fridge.

After chugging the whole can down, he hears a curse word. Edd raises an eyebrow. The Hispanic dropped a plate, but it thankfully landed on a rug. He quickly picks it up.

Eduardo to gulps as he forced his eyes to not move. Ironic, because he usually tried to avoid anyone's gaze at all, but right now was a crucial moment for him to not even spare a quick glance at whatever the fuck was hugging Edd's legs so tightly.

He turns back to cooking, And Edd shrugs whatever happened and walks back to his room. And once the door closes, he curses internally. He completely forgot to ask Eduardo if he looked okay.

He ignores the thought, because he's pretty sure Eduardo is just gonna throw an insult at him.

That was proven the next morning when he put on a pair of shorts. They were tight, but with a hoodie on he felt...cute?

Whatever it was, he felt nice, and his legs felt less warm.

He walks in the kitchen that morning, hoping to make some cereal. And as soon as he did, Eduardo drops a plate. "SHIT!"

Edd was thankful he decided to stack up on plastic plates instead, because if that was glass he could've brought wrath on the Hispanic. Eduardo quickly picks up the plate, and frowns. "Damn it- I just washed this-" He curses, before he places it in the sink again.

"You okay?" Edd casually asks, walking up to the Hispanic. The man was stiff. If looks could kill, he's pretty much trying to melt the plate he was holding with that scowl of his as he aggressively scrubs it.

"fine."

That was not fine. He wouldn't even look at him.

"cool- uhm.." Edd fixes his shorts a little "Does this look okay on me?" Eduardo turns, but quickly focuses back on the plate.

"Looks terrible."

Edd frowns, mostly because that's such an Eduardo thing to do, but also, ouch. The confidence he had earlier had long disappeared, so he just throws whatever comeback he had and goes back to his room. He tears the shorts away, and shoves his normal brown pants on.

But still, Edd can get pretty heated too. He didn't spend thirty minutes trying to shove clothes on just to get insulted like that.

So the next morning, he still placed some shorts back on. And while it took him awhile, he forced himself to force doubts away, and puts on some white socks that reached past his knees, just a few inches away from the end of his shorts.

He stomps to the kitchen, and was going to prove that he does NOT look terrible. Edaurdo gives him one short look, before he turns away..again.

Edd almost looked childish when he huffed angrily. "L o s e r."

He whispered loudly. Just to grab Eduardo's attention. And what better way to grab it than calling him that? It always gets on his nerves quickly.

The Hispanic turns back again, fuming. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused." Edd grins. Eduardo just shoots a glare, and turns away again. Nope, nuh uh. Edd ain't taking that.

"losersayshuh" "Huh?"

Edd laughs, while he lets Eduardo slowly process what just happened.

"Motherfucker- how dare you!" He finally got his full attention "That's not fair!" "Yes it was." Edd replies. "No it wasn't! I want a rematch!" Eduardo demands.

"Okay-" The Brit had his chance "Loser doesn't say these shorts looks good on me." The Hispanic stares. Then blinks.

"Are you seriously upset about yesterday." "You were upset for years over a painting."

Eduardo nods, closing his eyes. He lets out a frustrated sigh.

"That's fair."

He finally looks at Edd's legs. The Brit swore, the longer Eduardo looked, the more he begins to look sweaty. Then before staring back into his eyes, "Your shorts looks okay."

It wasn't what Edd exactly wanted, but whatever, he'll take it. "HAH! Not so terrible now huh?"

Eduardo smirks. "I said 'tear-able'. I feel pretty bad for the poor shorts." He crosses his arms. Edd starts pouting again. "It's not my fault I'm Dummy Thick!"

The Hispanic chokes on his spit. "Dummy what now-"

Edd was just joking, but the way Eduardo's face flushed made him want to go further.

"I'm dummy thick, and you can never achieve the peak physique of having these babies." He slaps his own thigh. Which was like- a bit painful. He can see a light red mark on his pasty skin, but that was his fault.

"How dare you- I might not have an ass but at least I've got legs to make up for it!!" Eduardo kicks up high, causing a plate edging off the counter to get flipped up before landing on the floor loudly. "Geez-" Edd picks it up himself "that's the third plate you dropped this week." Eduardo just grumbles something in another language as he snatches the plate back. Edd simply hummed, and slaps his thigh again.

"Ow-"

Why did he even do that? "Why did you even do that?" Eduardo repeats.

"Good question!" Edd finger-guns "I have no idea."

Eduardo rolls his eyes as he kneels, just so he can inspect the mark on Edd's thighs. The Brit blinks, before he subtly drags his eyes somewhere. Looking down currently gave him...suggestive ideas of how else the view could look.

The Hispanic snickers at the mark. "It looks like what happens if dalmatians were white and red-" He pokes, then he pauses. He pokes again. Edd looks back and gives him an odd look.

The Tan brunette stares a little longer, before full on grabbing Edd's thigh.

"Oh my fucking god?" Eduardo whispered, squishing a bit. Edd squeaks, slapping the hand away. "Holy crap- I knew you were soft- not that soft-....?" Eduardo almost laughs.

"It was like holding a pillow! I was right! You really are just a marshmallow!" Edd flushed pink a little. "What? Were you expecting me to feel like a cracker?"

Eduardo shrugged "It's not easy to have an idea if you barely show skin. All I ever seen you wear are long sleeves and pants. I've only seen you shirtless once." He stands up and pat's the Brit's shoulder. "It's okay, pudgy. Maybe one day you will gain SOME muscles."

Edd slaps the hand away, offended. "At least I'm SOFT and good for cuddling." Eduardo gives a manic grin. "So like..a tEDDy bear?"

The Brit starts hitting Eduardo while he laughs, trying to back away. "That was a pun!!That's my job! I'm gonna break your kneecaps!!" Edd yells. "Oh come on- At least it wasn't an insult."

He stops, and huffs. "I mean..okay. I guess." He sighs "You wanna cuddle my thighs next and call them shitty leg pillows?" Eduardo replies with "Really?"

Which was the least expected thing Edd heard- because as far as he knows, he was just joking.

"...Yeah- sure. If you wanna nap on here, then go crazy." He says. Because who is he to complain? It's free cuddles. Plus he never really had someone place their head down there, so this is a first.

"Okay- but- Breakfast—" "Breakfast can wait. Thigh Snuggles" "that sounds very suggestive." "And comfy." "But the fucking breakfast Eddie-" "It can w a i t."

The Paler brunette was already dragging Eduardo to the living room. Edd sat comfortably on the floor, and pats his lap. Eduardo stared awkwardly before he glares sideways. "Really? Now you're gonna be a tsundere?" "I am NOT-..!"

Eduardo just pouts more. Edd gives a stoic look.

"Just get over here."

The Hispanic grumbles, and reluctantly sits near. All what's left was him lying...his head...down..there.

It just sounded so...something a couple would do. And as far as Eduardo was aware, they aren't one. Edd didn't seem to care though, because he took the liberty to gently pulling Eduardo down, and set his head down on his lap.

Oh god- he's doing it. He's resting his head on someone's thighs, and it's Edd, out of all people. Not that he was complaining, it's just not what he really expected. The Brit starts to play with his hair, humming a little.

Eduardo let's his eyes shut. Edd found It adorable. Not that he's gonna say that out loud.

"Are you fucking humming despacito-" He growls, and starts to rise up. The Brit laughs and tries to keep Eduardo back down. "I didn't notice! I'll just sing something else.." He ponders a bit.

"When you try your best but-" "NO."

Edd laughs as Eduardo tries to scramble away like a cat again. "But It's a good song! Come ooon-" He tried to sound upset, but he just snorts.

"You just wanna sing memes!" "Maybe so- but come on. Is it NOT a good song?"

The Hispanic grunts as he crosses his arms. But he did let his head fall back to Edd's lap again. "Fine- But only sing the other parts." Edd shook his head. "Nuh uh- I can't hit those notes." "You don't even have to- you just have to sing it-" "Says the guy who's been blessed with a good singing voice!"

Eduardo turns to glare at Edd. "Pillsbury- I want you to shut the fuck up and sing. I've heard worse, and It took me years to even speak fluent English, so don't give me that shit." Then he smirks. "Unless...you're too much of a pussy to do it?"

Edd frowns. "You're not helping. I am NOT gonna sing it." "Come on- It's just the other verses." Eduardo reaches up to pinch the Brit's cheeks. "My singing isn't even good...!"

There was pause. Before Eduardo takes a deep breath. "..If you never try you'll never know, Just what you're worth.." "Did you just-" But Edd gets cut off..

"Lights will guide you home.." "I'm not gonna sing Eduardo-" "And ignite your bones.." "You can't make me continue-"

Eduardo just stares up, waiting for Edd to continue the lines. And what seemed to be a good minute, Edd frowns, and sighs, giving in.

"And I will try..to fix you." Eduardo shoots Edd with a grin, and they both continue the song.

"Tears stream down your face, When you lose something you cannot replace-" Edd tries to not laugh, but he did find it a bit ridiculous. Still, they moved forward.

"Tears stream sliding your face, And I--...." Wow- They actually sound pretty good. The Brit watches as Eduardo's eyes shut close again. But he was still smiling, and singing along.

"Tears stream down your face, I promise you I will learn from all my mistakes." The paler brunette also lets his eyes flutter close.

"Tears stream down your face, And I--..." The same line was repeated, but Edd was pretty sure he let himself get carried away, and he tried to be extra while singing that part. But hey- who cares?

"Lights will guide you home, And ignite your bones..."

Edd opens his eyes, and Eduardo does the same.

"..And I will try to fix you.."

They gave each other a small smile, until of course, one of them have to ruin it. Edd noticed this pattern.

"Sappy." "I sang better."

They stare a little longer. Then Edd breaks into a fit of giggles. "Yeah, you did." Eduardo only beamed.

#cola losers #long post #alksdjs #eddedu #one shot thingy is in the read more #edd x eduardo #ew edd #ew eduardo #my art #abs draws #*coughs* chapter 27

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geekgemsspooksandtoons · 5 years ago

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My thoughts on Bioshock 1

I just wanna put this out there. It’s 12:01 am and I find it nice that I finished it before Sunday popped up. This post is gonna have major spoilers. I’ll post the screenshots in a different post. I don’t know if I should call this a review. But yeah I didn’t wanna make this quickly. Took time making some popcorn(two bags for a bowl) and getting a Diet Dr. Pepper.

But my thoughts on the game itself. A game that gamers have considered one of the greatest video games ever made.

I want you all to know. The reason I went back to playing it because I was looking up the terrible voice acting of the original RE game. That it got me to wanting to play a older game...which is the first Bioshock on my main computer.

But in a nutshell I thought it was a pretty nice game. The gameplay is pretty stellar. Especially the combat. But I will admit, the game didn’t really scare me. Because it was considered horror by some folks. But the way I was playing I think a way how you would describe....something out of the Doom series.

Yet this is because I was playing on easy mode. Because I wanted to experience the story. Especially when I upgraded my weapons. I was basically a walking powerhouse. Along with the fact I didn’t use my plasmids a whole lot. But I did use them when they seem needed or when I wanted to try them out. I was mainly a weapons guy.

But yeah upgraded weapons made the journey easier. Even during the final boss with Frank.

The story is pretty alright. Even though some of the audio diaries I decided not to listen to except for some. Especially when the big reveal was coming.

I will admit and I think people may know of this. But I knew of the big twist and read stuff about how Jack was basically controlled through most of the game. Where the phrase, “Would You Kindly” Atlas was saying to control him. Where this becomes more clear when you enter a room that has, “Would You Kindly’ on the wall and...those diaries crap....a dog getting it’s neck snapped....to be honest I feel like the moment Jack see’s that. I feel like he was probably confused or just wondering, “What the fuck?”.

But basically where Andrew Ryan exposes this by saying the phrase a couple of times, and asking Jack to kill him with the golf club. Gonna admit to watch that twist in motion, for some reason I wasn’t expecting it to be that dramatic. Because I was expecting it to be simply casual with Andrew explaining what Jack is actually. Where Jack realizes when Andrew asks Jack to kill him, he was telling the truth. Yet I strangely like it how Andrew was trying to showcase more that using the phrase a few time to really showcase Jack was never in control.

Yet it was nice to finally see the scene in full motion in the original game. Since I’m not playing the remastered version.

To be honest I think the most shocking thing was the fact when I went on the Bioshock wiki. That Jack is literally 4 years old. 0_0 Just....I actually found that to be the most surprising.

Including just the whole set up of why Jack is there isn’t by chance. Honestly despite the dimension hopping that surprised me a lot. Just Jack growing up and all that...surprised me the most.

But I find it nice how Andrew during the game as you get closer to him. He’s alluding to the fact that it seems like such a coincidence that Jack crashed near that lighthouse above Rapture. As if it was some sort of miracle.

I’ll stop talking about the twist sorry. So I was right, Atlas who is Frank didn’t really have a family. I will admit Frank’s a pretty damn good actor. Because I feel like people who first played this and if I didn’t look into certain stuff. It would of been more of a surprise. Because I find it amazing he can change his voice.

Including the fact when you get closer to him. He’s just talking about you and him tricking you. Including why are you even still trying to get him. When Jack doesn’t have a family. I guess I can say he didn’t disappoint me as a villain.

Again the gameplay is wonderful, Rapture was a interesting place. Both to look at and I guess to explore. I will admit I sometimes couldn’t find some stuff right away. Such as a Big Daddy helmet after a while.

The Splicer are cool and have some variety, the Big Daddies are pretty nice too. Yet what I’m amazed by and I’m glad I couldn’t find that Big Daddy helmet right away because the last two Little Sisters that were with Big Daddies were near by.

I actually got all the Little Sisters that I recall. Basically rescuing all of them. Meaning I got the best and what I know canon ending. Gonna admit that last scene and just watching that cutscene. Despite it’s actually very quick. I can’t believe I had tears or so....despite I don’t seem to build a connection with these girls.

There is just something beautiful about that ending. Including to see they offered Jack the key to Rapture but he denies it.

Also there is something of just seeing all these Little Sisters just literally murder Frank and I got a shot of that actually. I saw that in a video once and it’s just intriguing. It seems kind of ridiculous but once you play the game, you understand how they are overpowering him.

The soundtrack....I’ll be honest I didn’t think about it much. Mainly because I was so focused on gameplay and getting through the game. Also weird thing this didn’t happen a lot. But I remember one time one of Franks line was up and he wasn’t talking.

Listen to any fans of Bioshock, sorry that I’m rambling. But I’m sorry I’m not praising it to the heavens. But I felt like I did myself a favor because this is a very loved game. It was nice to finally play it and finish it. I think it’s because I’m still processing some stuff. Including during a time in my life I thought gameplay is more important than story. Which was a thought I started having when I became a fan of Doom. But then loving Resident Evil again got me to realize liking video game stories. Considering before the gameplay thing, I would always prefer a single player over multiplayer.

But now I like both. It’s just I was I guess annoyed by how much praised Bioshock gets and it makes it seem like 2 and Infinite are hated on a lot. Including it just...bothered me and that I’d felt rebellious to not play the original. Because people made it seem like what I like to call it, “The Citizen Kane Of Gaming”. It was a game changer and I should understand that.

Yet you can thank my good bro and buddy @pikablob for being the reason why I got into this series more. All because I was wondering why does Elizabeth in Burial At Sea look so young but in the timeline she would be 66. Until he explained to me things about dimension hopping and after my surprise and shock of what he told me. That got me basically be like, “Okay I need to play these games because holy shit”. Even though I’ve played 2 before and finished Infinite and Burial At Sea episode 1 before.

It was just so insane to learn that I needed to experience these games myself as I’m older now.

I feel like overtime I’ll like Bioshock more. Because I had predicted this could become one of my all time favorites. But I don’t think so right now. Maybe when I ever replay it again and maybe even the remastered version. I may love it more. But I felt like compared to games like the original Doom, Doom 2016, Halo Combat Evolved(Because I recall from my experience that game is a classic), and even the Call Of Duty Modern Warfare trilogy. Especially 1 and 2, with 3 being a fitting conclusion to it. I got more out of those games.

Which I sound stupid for mentioning. Bioshock is a whole different beast. I’m talking about a game where someone like Andrew Ryan literally made a city underwater that wouldn’t be affected by what he considered, “Petty morality” and look where Rapture ended up as....a fucking shit hole.

That I recall I don’t feel terrible seeing Andrew Ryan die. Yet it’s probably because he wants to die and he accepts it. Including his final words and the way the scene went. Yet I was surprised that golf club got stuck in his head when Jack did the final blow.

But I think that’s just my mind set. Including on a silly note and I’m finally gonna say something I’ve had in my head. I just miss Elizabeth. Again I may enjoy it more as time goes all. Because it is a excellent game.

Because even though I haven’t played the remastered versions of Bioshock 1 and 2. I feel like if you want to. I’d recommend checking out the original Bioshock if you want to. It’s a well made game and I hope I think it’s genius about the fact The Bioshock Collection exists and it’s on 8th gen consoles now(Especially it got released on Nintendo Switch last month) and for PC’s if you want remastered versions of the first 2.

Basically was looking at trailers for the collection. I think it’s genius because that package seems perfect for any new fan who wants to experience the complete saga as of now.

I think I’ve said enough on my piece on the original Bioshock.

Anyway during the making of this post. I was listening to this kick ass rap. I find it awesome I finished the game and got to experience it for my own. Here’s JT Music’s Bioshock 1 rap, “Rapture Rising”. Been listening to this when making this. Warning in case even though I talked about spoilers in here, you have spoilers in this rap. Again well done rap.

youtube

#bioshock

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purelikeviolence · 5 years ago

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Unluck of the Irish | Julie & Bea

@beatrice-blaze

Julie kept arguing with the bartender ushering them out of the bar, completely angry with how he was kicking them out because of something that Julie took no responsibility for but just because she was the loudest, it meant she had to leave. And Beatrice. Surely she understood how unfair it was!

“I’m gonna come back when you’re off work and kick your ass,” Julie threatened him as she stepped out to which he just scoffed and rolled his eyes. Julie didn’t exactly look the most threatening. Average height, slim figure. No way any man over 6ft and went to the gym once a week would ever be threatened by. Little did they know…

“That was totally unfair, wasn’t it?” She turned to Beatrice. They were having a nice time prior to that, weren’t they? Julie was always a good time. Especially to pretty women and Beatrice was definitely a pretty woman.

Bea could say with certainty, she had never been kicked out of a bar before. She had watched her sister be kicked out of bars, but she had never been involved herself. Julie was really pretty and in a way fun to hang out with, but she had to admit that this all was a bit much. Still she nodded towards Julie in support,“Yeah, totally unnecessary. There are people who are being as loud.” She looked around them, not sure what to do now that they were outside of Dell’s,“Should we find another place to get drinks then?”

“I swear some of these people just have it out for me.” Julie said with a shake of her head. Stupid bars. At least she wasn’t banned though. They were understanding in that sense. They had been drinking for a while before getting kicked however, so Julie wasn’t sure if she wanted to go to another bar. She didn’t want to get drunk. “Maybe we can go back to your place for drinks?” Julie suggested glancing over at Bea, trying to hide her smirk.

“Some people just get so nit-picky when they drink,” Bea tried to reassure Julie. She didn’t want Julie to get any more upset than she already was. This other woman was feisty and Bea wasn’t used to less fierce than someone she was out with. It was an odd feeling honestly. “Uh, my sisters live with me, so I don’t usually have people over… Could we go to yours?” She could do what she did with Dario and get a hotel room for the night. Or try to sneak Julie into the house… As she contemplated their next move, she heard clicking and whistling nearby. “Do you hear that too?”

I don’t have a place. Julie sure wasn’t going to admit that just yet (if ever). “I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s just drinks.” She tried to reassure but then heard a sound. She turned around, trying to make sense of where it was coming from. “Yeah… what - what is that?” A bird? Not like any bird she’s heard and given her time in the woods, she’s heard a lot of them. Just when she was distracted by the sound and looking up to see if she could spot anything, she felt something pass by them. As she glanced down she saw a green blur.

Bea tried to look around for the mysterious sound without looking too alarmed. There were too many things in this town that could be dangerous, especially at a time like this. Had she not been looking for something she would have completely missed the blur that went by her. Glancing down she noticed quickly that her gold bracelet was gone. That bangle was one she wore to match her sisters, a charm on each to tell the sisters if someone was on their property. “No!” She let out as she took off after the blur. “Give me my bracelet back!”

Before Julie could process something happened, Bea was running and Julie had to go running after her because what the hell was happening? Her bracelet? Stolen by some green things. Well, this night was taking a different path than she had thought it would. As the creature seemed to be heading into the forest, Julie took greater strides, knowing it was more likely to end up getting away if they got too deep into the forest. She leapt forward and managed to grab onto something. A small body and when she looked up and was eye to eye with some big headed creature. “Ugh you’re ugly.” It wasted no time biting her hand and she pulled it back as she yelped in pain. It continued taking off. “You big headed fuck!” She growled and continued running, pissed off.

Julie was fast, Bea noticed with wide eyes. She had no idea what these things were but she knew that she needed to get her bracelet back. Her mom could make a new one for her, but this had meaning, she had gotten them with her sisters. “What is that?” She asked rather shocked at the appearance of the thing. She pushed herself to catch up with Julie. “I’m sorry! It stole my bracelet and it’s really important!” She felt terrible that she had dragged Julie into whatever this was, but she needed that bracelet back. “I guess this is a good time to ask if you know about the supernatural?”

Julie had to laugh at Bea asking her about the supernatural at a time like this. She looked over at her. “No, it’s my first time.” She couldn’t resist and gave her a wink. Alright, it seemed they couldn’t beat it though sheer speed. Julie was starting to wind down, her sprint losing speed. “We’ll get the bracelet back don’t worry. But it won’t be until after I stomp on those green little shits.” She hadn’t a clue what they were but knew they were pests. While it would have been easy to conjure some shadow from the ground to grab whatever it was and get the bracelet back safely, she knew better than to use her abilities around someone she couldn’t trust. There was one too many people who knew what she could do right now. But if they continued to be annoying, she might just have to.

For a moment, Bea was worried she would have to explain the whole thing about supernatural creatures until she caught Julie’s wink. She let out a soft laugh at it. It was nice that Julie could still tease her even though they were chasing some awful creature through the town now. Bea was tempted to send out a little fireball at the creature’s head, she wasn’t sure she should around Julie. There was still a witch hunter around somewhere and she didn’t know who was willing to work for her. “My knight in shining armor,” Bea said with a little laugh. The creature was so fast and Bea was not gaining on them much. She supposed she could try some more simple magic and see if that would trip up the thing. It was much more subtle than her fire magic would be. With a little mutter under her breath, she tried a spell she had been taught as a kid. The fae tripped on the invisible force she had made, which let the two women start to close the distance.

It tripped! Julie didn’t see what it tripped on but that gave her the confidence to go faster. It was so close now, not close enough to reach out and grab but if she kicked off at the right time with the right speed and strength… there! She leapt out to grab the thing like it was a damn ball gripping it with both hands and pulling it close as she rolled onto the ground. Oof, that hurt a bit. She gritted her teeth as she sat up, the thing was biting and scratching at her but she wouldn’t let go. “Oh, you little shit.” She leaned forward and took a bite herself, causing the thing to screech and drop the bracelet. Julie felt it drop on her lap and let go, throwing it off to the side. Spitting, she picked it up, and held it out to Bea. “Please tell me this is it.”

Bea watched, fascinated as Julie sprinted and rolled while grabbing the thing. She would have never done that, too worried about how much it would hurt coming out of the roll. “Holy crap,” She whispered as she watched Julie bite the thief. She supposed that that worked, but again, it would have never been her course of action. Pausing in front of Julie, she watched as the thief ran away from them, apparently over the whole chase. Nodding, she grinned,“Yes. That is.” She took it from Julia and slipped it on,“It’s priceless and it matches with my sisters. I couldn’t lose it, you know?”

Julie got up, panting. Why did she put that much effort over a stupid bracelet? Maybe there were ulterior motives… or maybe Julie just cared that much for family mementos. Pftt. “So,” she said once she got her breathing under control. “You’re welcome, by the way. I not only tackled that shit down but I bit him. Tasted it in my mouth and everything. I don’t think anything will wash that taste out now.” She spit off to the side before looking back at Bea. “Am I gonna get a thank you?” She teased, brow raised, wondering just how Bea was going to thank her for retrieving this priceless gift of much importance. Julie had her own idea of how Bea could do it.

“Oh, sorry!” Bea hurried to say,“Thank you. It just is like… It isn’t just a bracelet.” It was the literal key to their home and anyone who wore it would be able to get into her house and even her room. If she had lost it and someone had figured out what it was… She didn’t want to think about how hard it would be to get it back or make sure they couldn’t get into the house. While she wanted to sweep Julie off her feet and show her a good time, the adrenaline of the situation was draining and now she felt drained. “Can I rain check the thank you? Not going to lie, running after drinks kind of made me not feel the best.”

Julie was about to say something, about to cuss her out for having her go through all this shit and she wasn’t even going to get an invite back to her place. She sighed and gave a shrug. “Sure, rain check.” Whatever the fuck that meant. She looked around, getting a sense of her environment, figuring out where to go to get home or get another a drink. Either way, she’d be doing alone tonight. Unless she can pick up someone else at a bar but she already drank quite a bit, it wouldn’t turn out so great if she only continued to. “So, I’m that way.” She put her hood up and started back away. “You know where to find me.” That was all she said before turning around. Not even a “get home safe” because Julie wasn’t really the kind to care about that stuff. Sure, Bea was cool but here Julie was heading to her tree instead of a warm bed.

#chatzy #beatriceblaze

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turtlepated · 5 years ago

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Beetlejuice x Reader - Lonely Like Me

Part 2

This one’s waaaay longer than Part 1, and I cranked the angst up to 11 and broke off the knob, so tread lightly. Don’t wanna upset anyone. Thanks for reading!

@imtherain

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Beetlejuice was invisible for a long, long time before Lydia came along. He hated it, but he got used to it because he had no choice. Now he’s got his own weird little family thing going on and he’s the most content he’s ever been. But then he discovers that someone else can see him, too, and he just has to check it out.

Your life wasn't much, but you did all right.

You didn't like your job very much, but it wasn't without it's perks. It was certainly a step up from ten years' worth of minimum wage drudgery in one department store after another. It was still far from your dream job, but you could get by. You tried hard to remember that.

Your social circle was... easy to keep track of. Over the course of your life you'd had really good friends from middle school on up through senior year. You'd been close with a couple people in particular, but as you all got older and your lives became more hectic, people spread out and lost touch. You understood that, it was only natural after all. You did think more than once that maybe you ought to reach out some time, just to touch base and catch up.

But then the thought would occur to you that if they really wanted to talk to you, they would do it. It seemed to happen sooner or later with every friendship you made. One day they just... stopped answering your messages and you figured that was that. It bothered you sometimes, but you were used to it. Life went on for everybody.

But not for you.

Things began changing the day you almost crashed your shopping cart into that strange man at the supermarket. You had never seen another person like him in your life, at least not in living color and outside the glow of the TV screen. He'd been dressed in a black and white striped suit in such a state of distress that it looked as though he'd fallen down a ravine while wearing it. And his hair! Brilliant green locks that stood straight up from his scalp as though electrified.

You'd apologized, of course, offering him a smile and heading on your way. You'd glanced back over your shoulder as you rounded the next aisle, but he wasn't there? No way you would have missed such an outlandishly dressed person, but it was as though he'd disappeared into thin air. Strangely, the black-clad teenage girl he'd presumably been with was still standing right where you'd seen her before, apparently talking to herself. You shrugged it off. After all, you often talked to yourself too.

Ever since that day you've had this feeling like you were being watched. It would be the barest flicker in your peripheral vision, enough to make your pulse speed up a little bit. But there was never anything there. Even your cat would apparently just stare at a random area of empty space. Which was, admittedly, not unusual for a cat.

You did your best to put it out of your mind. You had plenty of other things to concern yourself with than imaginary visitors. Your job was monotonous, it was repetitive. There were days you dreaded going to bed at night because you knew that in the morning you would have to go back there for nine hours with no escape. You tried to make your cubicle into your haven from the mind-numbing tedium. You tacked goofy little drawings and memes and poems all around your walls. You decorated it with seasonal trappings: fake flowers in the spring, pumpkins and leaves in fall, fairy lights and garland at Christmas. Some days it was enough to distract you. And some days it wasn’t.

One week, for no particular reason, it’s bad. You start out every day frustrated for no definable reason, and then you have to go to work where it only gets worse. From Monday to Friday, everything is awful and it sends you spiraling down a dark pit into despair that try as you might, you can’t seem to pull yourself out of. The hours drag by with unbearable slowness, each passing second seeming to cost you more than you knew you had to give. You soldier on as best you can, wanting more than anything to simply go home and collapse into someone’s comforting embrace and just cry. But no matter how fiercely you want it, how desperately you wish for it, no one will be there. You will spend the night as you always have; alone, aching, and drying your own tears.

Finally, blessedly, you leave work for the day and you would have the whole weekend to try and recover from this terrible week before doing it all over again. When you step through your door a short while later you find the house utterly empty save for yourself and your cat. Ordinarily shutting the door behind you after a long day would bring on such a sense of relief. You would pet your cat and change into your pajamas, sit on the couch and relax. But not today.

You kick your shoes off at the door and leave them there, slinging your coat over the back of the couch as you pass by it, dropping your shoulder bag on the floor as you begin shucking off your clothing, stripping right down to your underwear and crawling back into bed, pulling the covers up over your head. It only takes a few seconds before it begins to get stuffy in your cocoon, your face growing hot as your eyeballs burn. At long last tears come, soaking your pillow, coating your cheeks as you curl into as tight a ball as you can, trying to stave off the gnawing ache in the center of your chest.

When it becomes too difficult to breathe you sit up in bed, raking back the hair stuck to your damp face, sniffling, your eyes red and raw. God dammit, you’re being ridiculous. You’re an adult, for crap’s sake, you’re supposed to be stronger than this. Yet here you are, bawling your eyes out, wishing so damn badly just for someone to sit next to you and say everything will be ok.

Your phone rings loudly from its place on your headboard and you jump, your heart leaping into your throat at the unexpected sound. Curious, you raise it up to see who’s calling. The screen reads: “UNKNOWN – 2383543873”. You roll your eyes, clearly a telemarketer or robocall, and silence the phone before setting it back on the headboard. You take a deep breath, filling your lungs til they felt they might burst, and let it all out in a harsh exhale between pursed lips. You actually do feel better, at least, after the crying session, sort of emptied out. Your head jerks round as your phone rings again, “UNKNOWN – 2383543873”. What in the world?

You don’t silence it this time, but you don’t answer it either. You sit there watching the phone, and sure enough a minute later it rings once again: “UNKNOWN – 2383543873”. This time you pick it up, swiping your finger across the screen to accept the call. “Hello?” you say tentatively. Silence is your only response. “Hello?”

After nearly 30 seconds of no answer, you lower the phone to hang up. At the same moment your thumb hits the Call End button, you think you hear a voice on the line: “He-…Hello?” It’s low, raspy and gravelly and it sounds surprised, but before you have time to react you’ve already hung up the phone. Barely a minute later it rings again and you pick it up immediately. “Who is this?” you demand, the beginnings of real fear tightening in your chest. You can hear what sounds like heavy breathing on the other end of the line, and that same gravelly voice in your ear, “Holy crap, is this really working?” “What do you want?” There’s a burst of maniacal laughter that makes you snatch the phone away from your ear. “I can’t believe it, it is working! Hiya, babes!”

You’re completely dumbfounded. What is going on here? Who is this strange man (because by now you’re pretty sure it’s a man’s voice) and why is he calling you? Is he drunk? High? Some combination of the two? “Is there something I can help you with?” you ask him, interrupting his gleeful giggling and babbling, getting frustrated with this whole crazy situation. “First things first, sweet stuff,” he says in a sing-song tone. “I’m gonna need ya to say my name, and then I can help you.” You frown, confused by the request and a little unsettled by the eagerness in his voice. “All right, weirdo, I’m hanging up now,” you say flatly. “Have nice night or whatever.” As you lower the phone you hear him sputtering in alarm. “Wait wait wait wait!” With a sigh you raise the phone back up. “I know this is weird and I didn’t mean to piss you off, but I just wanted to say everything’s gonna be ok.”

He says it all in one breath, like he’s afraid of being cut off before he finishes speaking, so it takes you a minute to fully process the onslaught of words. But when you do you can’t help feeling a little unnerved. “What?” you ask dumbly, thinking maybe you’ve misunderstood him. “I know you’ve been havin a hard time, doll, and I just wanted to letcha know everything’s gonna be ok.”

Your breath catches in your throat. How did he-? “Are you… watching me??” There’s a pause before he answers. “Is there any possible way I can say yes to that question without you getting mad and hanging up on me?” You scoff, angry at the invasion of privacy, afraid of what his motive might be, and hang up at once, scrambling out of bed to put on more clothes. You feel unbelievably vulnerable, what if he’s watching you right now?

You throw on a t shirt and pajama bottoms, peering out through your blinds to see if you can spot anybody watching your house. It’s already dark, but as far as you can see there’s no one around. The phone rings again, the same number, the same Unknown caller. You ignore it and soon enough it stops. But then it rings again, and again. You snatch up your phone and turn it off. It’s not a permanent solution, but maybe it’ll buy you some peace of mind for the night.

----------------

Sorry for the massive angst-dump, but hopefully Part 3 will make up for it when Reader finally gets to meet the Ghost with the Most!

PS: there’s a little bit of an Easter Egg slipped into this part. If you figure it out, you get a high five!

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x self insert #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice broadway

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years ago

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Down With The Rickness; Ch4: Every You, Every Me

Summary: Nova is stressed so Rick tries to make things a little more interesting by taking her to Aeon, a casino outside of time and space.

A/N: Thar be smuts here. And no Halloween chapter because... well this happened instead. I have to thank my beta, my-sun-my-baelish, for all of the help she's given me. It was her idea to bring Flesh Curtains Rick into the story and he will definitely be back. I cannot wait. :D Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think. :D

CW: Smut, drinking, gambling Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 8508

My ao3

Masterlist

~Rick In The Water~

|Ch3: Scene Of the Crime|

Things fell back into a comfortable pace when we finally made it home with Rick even sleeping in my room more often than not. The coffee I shared with Beth every morning before she left for work was already awkward enough without Rick stumbling loudly out of my room, much to her chagrin. She insisted she didn’t mind, that she was happy for us, but I could still see the twinges of jealousy in her eyes as she watched her father stumble out of my room in my robe in search of his own cup of coffee.

In an attempt to reconcile with her, I spent most of my days scrolling through job listings. On one particular afternoon, I had taken up my search across from Rick when he was at his workbench. I let out a guttural groan after scrolling through the same thirty listings I’d seen for the past two weeks, earning me a raised eyebrow from the irritable scientist sitting on the other side of the workbench.

“Y-You mind keeping your existential despair down over there?” Rick asked, looking up from whatever he was working on with an unconvincing scowl on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was my overwhelming stress bothering you?” I asked, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes as I tried to mask the grin forming on my face.

“W-Well, yeah. Yo*uuurp*u mind taking it elsewhere if you’re going to be a nuisance?” he growled, returning to his gadget with a dramatic huff.

“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry,” I smirked, rolling my eyes as I gathered my laptop to stalk off.

“I was gonna go out in a little bit, i-i-if you wanted to come with me,” he offered, spinning around in his chair and looking genuinely surprised I had taken his complaints seriously.

“Wouldn’t want my- what did you call it? Oh- extentistial despair to distract you in anyway,” I sighed, resisting the urge to grin at him again.

“W-Well, I was hoping it would get your mind off of it.”

“Aren’t you just so thoughtful?”

“I-It’s been said... from time to time-”

“Never. I think you mean never.”

“I-I’m sure someone’s had the wrong idea before.”

I sighed, turning away from Rick and walking to the edge of the garage in contemplation. I could choose to stay here and commiserate over why failure seemed inevitable on the job front or I could go out with Rick and just lose myself in an adventure with him. As I weighed between responsibility and fun, my eyes fell onto my old house next door. It filled my heart with a petty glee to see the house falling into minor disrepair as weeds invaded the formly meticulously kept garden and small groups of crab grasses sprouted up across the lawn. Once the police had finally given me access again, Rick, Beth, and I started destroying the cameras that had kept me locked in the house. It was cathartic to say the least but I still hadn’t stepped foot back in since. There were too many memories haunting those walls and I’d sooner tear the place down than go back into it.

“Alright, let’s go,” I sighed, tearing my eyes away before the nightmares could find their way back in. I sat my laptop down for a moment, a low moan leaking out as my legs stretched as a chill ran down my spine at the sheer relief in it. With a yawn, I headed for the door to go change out of my pajamas and into something more suited for adventure.

“D-D-Don’t worry about getting dressed,” Rick stopped me, making one last adjustment to his device before pulling himself out of his chair with a groan and directing me to his ship.

“Rick, seriously?” I asked, gesturing down to my cartoon covered sweatpants, tattered tank top and flip flops. “I’ll be like, two seconds. You telling me you can’t wait?”

“N-No,” he growled, “You don’t have anything to wear that would fit in where we’re going. We’re going to have to stop along the way.”

“Oh,” I gasped softly, following him to the ship. “So, where are you taking me then?”

“Look, will you just take ‘it’s a surprise’ as a sufficient answer so I can have a bit of fun with this?” Rick scowled as I climbed into the ship, eyeing him hesitantly.

“I mean, I suppose I really don’t have much choice otherwise, do I?” I asked him, eyes narrowed at him as a smirk played on my cheeks.

“That’s what I love about you, you always catch on quickly.”

Our first stop was at an off-world intergalactic mall. Rick sent me into a large dress shop, shoving a large wad space cash into my hands and instructing me to “go nuts”. He departed with a kiss on the cheek as he headed into a Blips and Chitz further into the mall, muttering something about unfinished business.

The humanoid eel creature at the counter turned her nose up to me at first, eyeing my shabby attire until she caught sight of the fistful of cash I was carrying. Her demeanor shifted in an instant, ushering me past the clearance rack I had been eyeing to instead show me the latest gowns they’d just received. She ensured me I would be on the cutting edge of whatever charity gala or ball I would be donning the gown to as I flipped nervously past gowns with price tags I couldn’t read.

“I-I don’t know how much this is-” I held out the wad of cash in my hand to her nervously “-I was just kind of sent here and told to ‘go nuts’’.”

She eyed me suspiciously but remained silent as she quickly counted the money, handing it back with a satisfied smile. She started pulling gowns down, holding them in front of me to get an idea of what would look best before leading me to the lavish dressing rooms in the back of the store. Sizing proved to be no issue as the fabric adjusted itself around me, being snug in all the right places and scooping around my breasts in a scandalous way. After a montage worthy amount of changing, we decided on a long, black sleeveless number. It boasted a light train following behind me and a neckline I knew Rick wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of. She grabbed a pair of heels and a set of jewels for me to wear before pushing a large device over my head, letting it rest on my shoulders. Panic set in as my hair began pulling away from my scalp gently before it was doused and dried my hair quickly and a light spray methodically worked its way over my face. A soft chime rang out and the clerk lifted device with ease, handing me a mirror to take in my appearance. I barely recognized the face staring back at me. My hair fell gently over my shoulders in delicate waves and my makeup was done with skill I’d never possess. The sales clerk led me over to a full length mirror and I was taken aback by my reflection.

I looked so… elegant.

The clerk pointed to the rest of my outfit, sliding my heels and jewelry over to me. The heels were matte black with five inch heels and I stood up nervously in them, I was relieved to discover they were fitted with a balance technology that made walking as easy as if I was barefoot. The jewels hanging from my neck and ears sparkled with purple and blue hues, adding the perfect pop of color to offset the dark gown with the added benefit of accenting my eyes.

“T-Thank you,” I stammered, staring into the mirror to take in the finished product. I handed her back the wad of cash, waving my hand away as she offered me my change as I continued to thank her profusely. I wandered out of the shop in a haze, barely noticing when Rick approached me looking over his shoulder nervously until his eyes fell on me.

“H-Holy shit, Nova,” he gaped, looking me over completely. “You look fucking amazing.”

“I know, right?” I grinned proudly, looking down in amazement at my own cleavage.

“Are you ready then?” he asked with a grin, his eyes struggling to meet mine.

“I guess we’re not going on the usual kind of adventure then?” I trembled, my confidence gone at the reminder of the uncertainty ahead of us.

“You could say that.”

We landed in a large valet, the dinginess of Rick’s ship incredibly apparent next to all of the flashy ships parked around us. A Morty came out to greet us, taking the keys out of Rick’s hand before climbing into the ship and flying off to a garage. My eyes bulged at the sight, turning quickly to Rick with my eyes narrowed.

“Are we back on the fucking Citadel?” I hissed, looking around for the sea of Ricks and Mortys going about their daily lives.

“N-N-No,” Rick assured me quickly. “W-Well, kinda. N-N-Not really. This is a getaway for Ricks. It was built as somewhere to put all the Rickless Mortys and also give Ricks a place to relax when shit gets too serious.”

“So, there’s still going to be a shit ton of Ricks here,” I groaned, walking toward the entrance. The large doors slid open smoothly, allowing me to storm right into a large casino filled with Ricks and Mortys just as I had feared, but also a large variety of other otherworldly creatures. I stopped in my tracks as I looked over the sea of people gambling obscene amounts only to shrug off their losses and slide another tower back out into the circle.

“Welcome to Aeon,” another Morty greeted us. “Do you have a reservation in our hotel for the evening?”

“Y-Yeah,” Rick confirmed, pushing past me gently to handle the Morty in front of us leaving me to continue staring out over the casino floor. A large cluster of Ricks surrounded a craps table, cheering loudly after the shooter let the dice fly out of his hand. Another Rick was ordering a drink from the Morty cocktail server before turning back to a poker table. He looked at his hand, a look of irritation growing on his face as slammed the cards down, tossing a couple chips on top. I didn’t get to see if he’d won as Rick grabbed my hand gently as the Greeter Morty led us to the elevator to show us to the room Rick had reserved for the night.

The room was extravagant, with a full bar directly in front of us as we entered. A Bartender Morty portalled in and Rick ordered himself a drink immediately, allowing me to venture further into the luxurious room. A large four poster bed with delicate fabric draped down sat in the middle of the next room with a large television and sofa at the foot of it. The bed’s linens were quite possibly the softest thing I’d ever touched and I found myself running my hand over the fabric again and again. Rick entered the room behind me, quietly watching as I was mesmerized by a blanket.

“It’s alright, I guess,” he shrugged, setting his empty glass down and pointing to another door in the corner of the room, “You should check out the bathroom. True whirlpool jets, Nova. I’ve gotten lost in those damn things more times than I can count.”

“You’ve been here a lot, I take it?” I asked, breaking my attention from the linens to follow Rick’s suggestion.

“Yeah, this place isn’t called the Aeon for nothing,” Rick explained, “Time literally doesn’t exist here. You could spend ages here and no time passes. It’s outside of the ebb and flow of time.”

“So- Wait, what?” I asked, mouth agape as I turned to face him.

“Don’t think too hard about it, okay?” Rick smirked, “Let’s just put it this way, you could stay fifty years in this place and Madi wouldn’t think you’d been gone longer than an afternoon.”

“B-But, wouldn’t I be ancient by the time I got back?”

“Nope, I’m telling you, no time passes. You won’t age, you won’t gain any weight from any of the food you technically don’t need to eat… The only consequences you face here are with your wallet.”

“That’s… that’s crazy. So you could live here, forever?”

“I-I mean, if you had an infinite amount of money, sure. The fifty years thing was just an exaggeration, this place is not cheap.”

“I can tell,” I grinned, gesturing around to the expensive decor around the room.

“The Flesh Curtains have a show tonight,” Rick remarked, picking up the daily itinerary from the dresser.

“F-Flesh Curtains?” I sighed, biting my lip to resist a laugh.

“So, back in the day, my friends Birdperson and Squanchy formed a band called Flesh Curtains with me. Most Ricks do it but don’t stick with it. These guys are from a timeline that stuck with it and became a success.”

“I hardly consider playing in a casino success,” I said with a snort, glancing over at Rick in disbelief to find him staring at the pamphlet with a glassy look in his eyes.

“Psh,” he said finally, shaking the look away and clearing his throat. “It wouldn’t be so bad, I guess.”

“You wanna go back downstairs? Maybe we’ll go see the show tonight?” I offered softly, moving closer and lacing my hand into his. A devilish grin spread over his face as he pulled the door open.

“You know how to play blackjack, right?”

When we made it back to the floor, Rick made a beeline to the first empty blackjack table he could find. The Ricks around us watched us pass, not taking their eyes off of me until Rick shot them a dangerous look. The Morty at the table greeted us, scooping the cards back up and deftly shuffling them again before loading them back into the shoe and waiting for our buy-ins.

“Player’s cards?” he asked, bored. Rick tossed me a handful of colorful bills before pushing his over to the dealer along with a black card. Morty quickly cut out his chips, calling out the total and waiting for his supervisors approval before sliding two stacks of black and green chips across the table to Rick. He turned to me expectantly, raising an eyebrow when I hesitated.

“How much do I give him?” I whispered to Rick, unable to read the symbols on the money.

“Just give him all of it. Trust me, it’s enough.”

I pushed the money across with a trembling hand, earning a sigh from Morty as he counted it up and slid me my own stack of black and green chips.

“Place your bets.”

“Alright, so all you have to do is play one at a time,” Rick said, pushing the chips closer to me. “You’ll be playing the minimum so if you start doing well, feel free to up your bet.”

“I see we have a special guest tonight,” the floor supervisor Rick remarked as Morty started dealing the cards out. “Not often we see a Nova in-”

“-In here. Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot,” I waved him off, not meeting his gaze. I tried to remember the basic strategy rules for blackjack as Morty checked his own hand for blackjack.

“I-I bet,” Floor Rick stuttered, looking between my Rick and I. Rick ignored him, tapping the table to get another card. Nineteen. He waved it off with a satisfied sigh, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his lab coat. The Floor Rick grabbed an ashtray, sliding in front of Rick before turning his attention back to me.

“Eleven,” Morty said, moving his hand from Rick’s hand to mine.

“Double it,” Floor Rick said with a shrug, “It’s a good hand for doubling. All you need is a ten.” I sighed, sliding another chip up next to my initial bet, wincing as Morty slapped the card down on top of it and quickly went to his own hand. Twenty One.

“Twelve. Sixteen. Bust,” he called out flatly as he played his own hand out, quickly paying us our chips and scooping the cards up before chucking them into the discard rack.

“Nice one, Nova. You two let me know if you need anything,” Floor Rick said with a sly grin, pushing himself away from the table and going to check on another table.

“I seriously hope every fucking Rick in this place isn’t going to be on you like that all night,” Rick groaned as Morty dealt out another hand.

“Well, even if they are, I can handle it,” I assured him.

“I-I-It’s just fucking annoying,” Rick grumbled, watching Morty bust his hand again.

We play for another hour before the Supervisor Rick made his way back over to us, making more uncharacteristically friendly conversation with me before being relieved to go on break. The Relief Floor Rick was also enamoured by my presence but kept it to himself, watching me silently from the adjacent table’s computer system.

“Twenty one,” Morty declared, scooping our bets up and placing them in the rack. Rick groaned in frustration, counting his chips angrily.

“That’s five fucking hands in a row, Nova. This is mathmatically fucking impossible,” he lamented, eyeing the stacks of green in front of me suspiciously. “How in the hell have you been doing so well?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” I shrugged, sliding a stack of five into the circle and looking at his expectantly.

“There’s no such thing as fucking luck,” Rick grumbled under his breath, slamming a chunk of black chips into the circle and looking up at Morty.

“W-Wait, before you deal-” I interrupted, holding my hand up to him and smiling softly. A cocktail Morty had come by, calling Rick’s attention away in search of something strong enough to drown his sorrows in. “Do you guys get tips? Like, as a paycheck or something.”

“Y-Yea. Usually doesn’t amount to much though,” he remarked spitefully, his eyes resting on Rick’s back as he spoke.

“So if I put money up for you, you get it if we win?” I grinned devilishly. He nodded quickly, his eyes lighting up as I slid a chip in front of my bet with a wink. “Let’s make you some money kiddo.”

Morty started dealing the hand out as Rick turned back around, handing me a small glass as he watched the hand come out. Another fifteen for Rick and two sevens for me, with Morty showing a six.

“Split them, Nova,” Rick suggested, waving his hand off before pulling out another cigarette.

“Since when do you smoke?” I asked, wrinkling my nose as I slid more chips out and signaled for the split.

“It’s a casino thing. Something about this place just makes me want a cigarette,” he shrugged. “You’re betting for Morty? Y-Y-Your streaks coming to an end now.”

“Eleven, Au- er -Nova,” Morty stammered, focusing his attention on the cards. I slid another six chips out, doubling the hand for a solid nineteen. The other hand turned into seventeen, leaving me to wave it off and hope for the best.

“Looks like I’m doing just fine,” I smirked, looking over to Rick. He didn’t respond, gesturing to Morty’s hand across the table.

“Twenty,” he called out mournfully, scooping up the bets and thanking me.

“Here, just take it,” I said stubbornly, not taking my eyes off of Rick as I tossed him a couple chips for him to drop in his toke box.

“T-T-Thank you, Aunt Nova,” he said, his cheeks flushing at my name again.

“Tonight in our Event Center, come see Flesh Curtains, only at Aeon!” a voice called over the intercom. Rick checked his watch, sighing inwardly as his slid his remaining chips across to Morty.

“Color me up,” he ordered, sliding our money to Morty before turning to me, “You ready to go see the greatest band in existence?”

“Greatest band, huh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he grabbed his money and finished his drink. He didn’t respond, taking my hand and pulling me through the sea of aliens and Ricks headed to the Event Center. The Mortys scanning tickets looked frustrated as devices were thrust into their faces by desperate fans. Rick pushed our way to a lone Rick standing guard, flashing his black card again and speaking in low tones. Whatever he said must have had an effect as the Rick dropped the rope, allowing Rick and I through to the back door and into the cavernous theater.

Seats were squashed together as aliens milled into the theater, finding their seats. Rick moved around them deftly, pulling me behind him to a small door by the stage where we were met with a bored looking Morty who let us pass after Rick flashed his card at him again.

“So is that just a ‘get whatever the fuck you want’ card?” I asked as the door to backstage closed behind me with a soft click.

“I guess you could call it that. I used to be in here all the time. I’m an Ultra member here.”

“Where in the hell is all this money coming from?” I demanded, quietly jealous of Rick’s seemingly endless supply of income.

“W-Well, you see- I’ve made some things that- W-Well- You remember Scar, right?” he stammered, running his hand through his hair.

“Yes…” I drew out, ignoring the ache that echoed through my chest at the memory of the Rick that saved my life.

“Well, I d-did that- I DO that a lot,” he said, shifting awkwardly before returning his hand to his hair.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so while I may not have a lot of Earth’s currency, I do pretty damn well otherwise,” he explained hesitantly as we approached a large door with a star bedazzled to it. Rick knocked that same knock he used on Scar’s door, tapping his foot impatiently before the door swung open to reveal another Rick that made my jaw drop.

“Rick N-682, as I fucking live and breathe,” he smirked, shaking Rick’s hand before his gaze rested on me. This Rick was a sight to behold. His loose blue tank top dipped lazily down to his jeans, giving me a tantalizing view of his navel. I pulled my eyes away from his skull belt buckle long enough to notice how much younger than my Rick, confirming his claims about time’s effect, or lack thereof, here. He nodded in acknowledgement at me before leading us into his dressing room, a small grin playing on his cheek. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, drinking in his every movement as he talked caught up with Rick.

“I see you haven’t changed,” Rick remarked, his eyes tracing to a closed door before meeting the other Rick’s gaze. “This is my Nova, by the way. Nova, this is Rick F-287.”

“Just call me Ricky, it’s a lot easier,” the much more laid back version of my Rick assured me.

“Oh! Another Nova!” a voice called out from another room. My reverie was broken when another… me appeared out of a makeshift bedroom wearing an excited look and more fishnets and dark makeup than I’ve ever owned. I felt out of place in comparison to her relaxed wear but I had to admit, I looked fucking hot.

“Baby, why don’t you don’t you introduce her to the others,” her Rick suggested, gesturing behind her.

“Oh! Sure, come with me,” Punk Nova grinned, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind her. I spared one last fleeting glance back at my Rick before she closed the door behind us..

The ‘Others’ it turned out was more… Novas. This Rick had a veritable harem of Novas just hanging out in his dressing room. My vision spun at the sight of them, my knees going weak before Punk Nova grabbed me by my shoulder and led me over to the couch.

“You okay?” a Nova with bright pink hair asked urgently, coming to rest at my side. She was a stark contrast to the punk Nova who led me in here, wearing a tight lilac t-shirt with the Flesh Curtains plastered on the front with a short blue skirt and neon makeup. My tunnel vision was becoming worse as I stared into her face blankly. It felt like I was looking through one of those filters Madi had on her phone but I could feel her hand on my back rubbing soothingly.

“Seriously, P-465?” another Nova with long dark hair chimed in, pulling her away to give me space to breathe.

“Goddammit, Kat. It’s Pinkie. You know that,” she reared back at annoyed looking version of me.

“K-Kat? P-Pinkie?” I stammered, trying to make sense of everything. “Y-Y-You’re not Novas?”

“It’s only fucking Pinkie when you’re not on my last goddamn nerve,” Kat retorted before looking back at me with a sigh. “No, we’re Novas. We’ve adopted nicknames so we can keep each other straight. It gets old when some says Nova and five people respond.”

“Y-Y-Yea, makes total sense,” I nodded numbly. “W-What are you all doing here?”

“Why don’t you just get your head on straight, first,” Punk Nova said comfortingly. “I’m Riff, by the way. That’s Harley-” she pointed to a fourth Nova with red and black hair “-and fuck knows where Norma went. She’s new around these parts.”

“S-So, you guys are h-here because you want to be r-r-right?”

“Of course we are! We lost our Ricks, so Ricky takes care of us,” Pinkie gushed, staring at the door. My stomach churned at her infatuation with the rockstar, knowing exactly which dark part of me that stemmed from.

“Ugh, she makes it sound so weird,” Kat groaned, glaring at the pink haired version of her. “My Rick blew himself up, so I tried to go to the Citadel for help because I was heartbroken. They couldn’t help but they sent me to… him. He took me in and he does take care of me but it’s not how Pinkie makes it sound. I’m not helpless without him. I just didn’t want to… be without him.”

“I’m sorry I love him, Kat,” Pinkie shot coldly, “I don’t want him to think I’m taking him for granted.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Riff swore, “just shut the fuck up Pinkie.”

“Rick knows how I feel about him,” Kat hissed, advancing toward Pinkie.

“Kat, don’t.” Riff tried to mediate between the two but the fury in Kat’s eyes was unlike anything I’d ever seen in the mirror. “She’s not worth it.”

“You know he hates it when you two fight,” Harley groaned, finally pulling her nose out of the book she’d been reading. “He’s about to go on stage, he doesn’t need you at each other's throats.”

The bickering between the four continued as I watched, unable to believe any of it. How were these girls… me? Sure we were physically identical for the most part but the difference in our personalities was glaring.

“Ladies, ladies,” Ricky mitigated, clapping his hands as he entered the room. My Rick followed closely behind him, the smirk lurking beneath the surface coming to fruition as he met my eye.

“She started it!” Pinkie cried, running into Ricky’s arms. He groaned, pulling her away to look her in the eyes.

“Come on Pinkie,” he growled, “This is just fucking juvenile, you know that right?”

“She kept egging me on,” Kat snarled, standing up defiantly.

“Just- Don’t,” Ricky chastised her, holding up a finger in her direction to silence her. “Pinkie, you need to knock this shit off.”

“I don’t get why she’s here,” Pinkie whined, shooting daggers at Kat.

“N-682, why don’t you and your Nova head out to the balcony seats. I need to take care of this,” Ricky sighed, giving my Rick an apologetic look.

“So that was… weird,” I murmured as we walked back out into the amphitheater to our seats.

“What? Seeing yourself in a thousand different variations?” Rick asked with a grin. “You get used to it.”

“I can’t believe you just let me nose dive into that situation,” I grumbled, shaking my head.

He checked a small sheet of paper that Ricky had given him before pushing through a thick curtain to a small balcony befitted with cozy couches with an excellent view down to the stage. A small group of tittering well-to-do’s were huddled together speaking in low tones, only stopping to lift their piercing gaze to us. Rick shot them a dirty look, pushing past them and flopping down on the couch in front row.

“You would have seen them either way,” he shrugged, kicking his feet up onto the railing, much to the disapproval of the others. “You gonna sit down or what?”

“Oh shit,” I swore, earning me a dirty look of my own. I sat down on the edge of the couch, back rigid as I fiddled with the hem of my dress. “You know, I think I took our adventures for granted.”

“Oh, did you now?” Rick grinned, raising an eyebrow over at me. “You don’t like your taste of opulence and decadence?”

“Let’s just say, I felt a lot more comfortable in dirty pawn shops and cheap arcades,” I muttered, earning a grin as loudspeaker sounded.

“Hello and welcome guests of Aeon Casino!” an announcer declared as the lights went down and focused on the stage. “Tonight we have a special treat for you, brand new material from the Flesh Curtain’s new album ‘Pushing Buttons’!”

Three figures emerged onto the stage, the crowd roaring with excitement at the sight of them. I recognized Rick immediately but he was joined by what looked like a large bird and a cat. I turned to Rick, my brow furrowed.

“Birdperson and Squanchy,” he shouted over the crowd. “Come on Nova, can’t you just relax and have a little fun?” he asked, pulling me back onto the couch and putting his arm around me. I let out a sigh, trying to emulate the same devil-may-care attitude Rick always had but the eruption of the crowd as the Rick on stage grabbed the mic set me right back on edge. Rick noticed my stiffened demeanor, pulling me in closer and kissing the top of my head.

“What’s up, you pieces of shit!?” Ricky screamed into the mic, surveying the crowd with a smug grin as they roared in delight before passing the mic back to Birdperson.

“Thank you for joining us tonight,” Birdperson said, his voice monotone. I raised an eyebrow at Rick but only received a gentle headshake in response, his eyes trained on the group down below.

The music was loud and abrasive but I had to admit, I loved it. The group of snobs behind us finally started letting loose as the show went on and they downed drink after drink. They even started sending drinks our way, much to Rick’s delight. When our drinks emptied, another appeared in its place, courtesy of our new friends behind us. Soon enough, one of the women with them grabbed my hand and pulled me in close, dancing sloppily as Rick watched with a bemused grin. My ears were ringing and my cheeks hurt from grinning but I was finally feeling relaxed. No one to judge as I danced and drank, Rick even joining in.

“Squanch you and good night!” the cat on drums shouted before letting out one final drum solo. The show lasted three hours but it truly felt like no time had passed. A large alien bodyguard appeared in our archway, informing Rick and I that Ricky wanted us to come back by his dressing room for an after party. I thanked the group behind before Rick and I followed the creature back down the hallways, pushing through a sea of screaming fans that were just desperate for a glimpse of the band they seemed to live their lives by.

“N-682! You made it!” Ricky shouted, tripping over a large bag of empty beer bottles as Rick pushed his way into the dressing room. While it hadn’t been necessarily clean before, it was truly trashed now. The door to the bedroom had been ripped off its hinges, leaving a perfect view of the Novas doing a line with Squanchy. A group of aliens were spread out on the floor, countless bottles surrounding them as they told stories of antics past while Birdperson sat rigidly in a corner chair, his foot calmly tapping to the beat of the music blasting out of the stereo next to him.

“Rick,” he said evenly, “it is good to see you.”

“‘Pers, my man. Always a pleasure,” Rick said, playfully smacking Birdperson’s shoulder before pulling up a chair next to him. This left me standing awkwardly in the doorway holding my arm and wishing I could just go home or at least back to the room. I opened my mouth to tell Rick but Ricky grabbed my elbow gently.

“Hey, yo*uuurp*u okay?” he asked softly, wearing a look of concern I’d only really seen on my Rick.

“Y-Y-Yeah,” I stammered, shifting nervously and giving my lie away. “I’m just not really good in… social settings, I guess. Plus I’m a little drunk and I’m not even sure why I’m admitting it but here we are.” Ricky chuckled at my rambling but said nothing, nodding over at my Rick and leading me away from the din of the party guests. He opened a door, finding the room occupied by creatures in what looked like a compromising position, slamming it shut quickly as he continued his hunt for somewhere quiet. He finally circled back, going to the only door he had skipped, opening it with an apologetic look.

“Sorry this might not be ideal.”

“This is a bathroom with fresh vomit,” I grinned, holding my fingers under my nose to block most of the smell. The toilet was overflowing with vomit and the sink had its fair share as well. Now this is what I was accustomed to when it came to adventuring with Rick. Dirty surroundings and smells I’d rather not be smelling. I could feel the tension melting away from my shoulders already.

“S-Somehow it doesn’t seem to be bothering you all the much,” he remarked, flushing the toilet fruitlessly.

“This is what my life usually consists of,” I shrugged, “Hell, you get me out of this dress and into some running shoes and I’ll be top of my game.”

He raised an eyebrow, disappearing for a moment and returning with a change of clothes. He held them through the doorway, giving me the privacy to change. I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out of the heels and into a black pair of running shoes. I was grateful to get out of the dress, no matter how beautiful it was and into a pair of leggings and Flesh Curtains tank top. I peeked around the door to find Ricky coming back down the hall with a large bottle and two red cups.

“Oh no, no, no,” I grinned, stepping away from him. “I’ve seen how this timeline goes, a bottle and two cups never ends well for me.”

“Oh come on, Nova,” Ricky grinned, pouring a shot into the cup and handing it over to me. “You said you were already drunk. I think that ships sailed.” I considered a moment, biting my lip to fight back the grin playing on my cheek as I stared at the cup.

“How does alcohol even get you drunk here anyway?” I asked, eyeing the bottle. “Rick said there were no consequences here.”

“Nova, this is a fucking casino. Without booze, this place would be entirely pointless.”

“Alright then, fine,” I relented, taking the cup and trying to fight the grin spreading over my face. I don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was because he was Rick, even if it was just a different version of him. Maybe it was just the fact he was so kind.

“I knew you’d see reason,” he grinned again, drinking straight from the bottle.

“So why in the hell are you being so nice to me?” I asked, sputtering from the liquor. He raised an eyebrow at me in confusion so I continued, “Like, I’ve been on the Citadel enough for twelve lifetimes. The Ricks there don’t seem to care much about Nova’s there. There was one ready to kill me just to kill my Rick.”

“Oh, damn. I dunno. I like Novas,” he shrugged, pouring us each another shot. “I’m sure your Rick would say I’ve become soft with fame, but I just don’t like seeing Nova’s upset.”

“My Rick would say he’s become soft,” I snorted, taking another drink. “So why do you have a veritable harem here?”

“H-Harem?” he coughed, choking on his drink. “Do you think I keep them around to just fuck them constantly?”

“Well, I mean… what else you be doing with them?”

“Treating them like human fucking beings? If a Nova I meet doesn’t want to sleep with me but needs somewhere to go, I help them. It’s pretty fucking cut and dry,” he explained, “Some stick around, like Pinkie, but some will inevitably move on, like Riff or Kat. I’m a fucking millionaire. I can swing it.”

“But, you’re a Rick, right?” I asked, holding my cup out for more. “From what I’ve come to understand, Ricks don’t do anything without there being a benefit to them.”

“Look, I mean, whatever benefits I get from being around a sea of Novas is inconsequential,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck before downing the rest of his drink.

“Aha! I knew it!”

“Who told you that, anyway? That’s a pretty depressing way to view a guy who’s supposed to lo-care about you.”

“My Morty,” I shrugged, sliding down against the wall. “He’s been, uh, pretty insistent on it lately. He wants me to just leave Rick and just go after someone better.”

“Ugh, Morties,” he grimaced, “Look, don’t listen to that twat. He really doesn’t know shit about shit.”

“Agree to disagree on that one, compadre,” I dismissed lazily, my limbs becoming far heavier than I remembered. “W-Where is Rick, anyway?”

“He was out there talking to Birdperson last I saw,” he reassured me, sliding down against the wall next to me.

“H-He isn’t worried about where I disappeared to?” I slurred sadly, offering my cup back over to Ricky.

“Come on, sweetheart, he knows I’m with you,” he chastised me.

“H-H-How does he know you’re not in here making moves on me or whatever?”

“Because he knows I’m not one of those Ricks,” he growled. “You really don’t trust how he feels about you do you?”

“Wh-Why should I? He never says anything either way,” I mourned, downing the shot and quickly asking for another.

“Look, I can’t speak for your relationship, but I know that Rick. He was one of the first ones I met when the Citadel formed. There are Ricks out there that don’t care about their Novas. Hell, I heard about one a couple months back who let his Nova overdose because if she couldn’t keep up, then she wasn’t all she was chalked up to be. Do you really think that sounds like the guy you’re with?”

“No,” I admitted shamefully, my head drooping slightly as the alcohol weighed it down. “I’ve just been through a lot-”

“Y-Y-You don’t have to launch into the story, I know it all too well,” Ricky stopped me quickly, holding up a hand. “We Ricks aren’t good with the whole… emotional openness garbage. There are a couple oddballs out there but if you think you’re going to get some soft ‘I’ll love you until the end of time’ crap, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

I didn’t respond, staring into the murky liquid. Ricky didn’t push me, allowing me to lose myself in my thoughts for what seemed like hours until my eyelids started drooping. I felt Ricky push past me gently, pulling the door out and disappearing through it before I lost the fight and let my eyelids slam shut.

“N-Nova. H-Hey Nova, come on. Let me help you up, sweetheart. Let’s go home,” a gruff voice murmured. I could feel my limbs being tugged softly as they were pulled over a set of shoulders as I was brought back up to my feet. “Come on, baby, I’ve got you.”

“Wh-Wh-What happened?” I asked, trying to open my eyes. “Where am I? Wh-Who are you?”

“Oh jesus, you really got fucked up,” he chuckled, adjusting fruitlessly over his shoulders before letting out a frustrated sigh. “This is not fucking working. Nova, baby, I need you to hold onto me as tight as you can, okay?”

“O-Okay, mystery man,” I giggled. My arm was brought back around his neck, only for him to lift me up, bridal style. I tried to open my eyes again and caught a glimpse of blue hair before they slid shut again. “Which one are you?”

“I could be any Rick in conceivable existence,” he laughed darkly, “and there would be nothing you could do about it.” I recoiled away from him, trying to fight my way out his embrace to no avail. “Jesus Nova, I was joking. It’s me- I’m your Rick,” he groaned, pulling me in tighter.

“Oh, good,” I nodded, tucking my head back into his chest. The rhythmic bounce of each step lulled me into a complacent state and by the time he sat me back down, we were in his ship, rocketing through space.

It was dark when finally landed back in the driveway. Most of the alcohol had left my system, leaving me with a throbbing headache and parched throat. Rick pushed his door over, making his way over to my side to pull me out himself.

“Oh shit, you’re awake.” His voice was husky as he surveyed my lazy form, chuckling to himself before walking over to his workbench. He started mixing chemicals, testing his concoction by taste until it seemed to be satisfying enough. He brought his finished product back over to me, offering it to me.

“No offense, but what the fuck is that?” I asked bluntly.

“L-Look- Just drink it okay? Your fuckin’ head hurts right? This will make it stop.”

I grabbed the cup out of his hand, smelling it once for good measure before downing it. The taste was vile but the pain in my head and stomach stopped up instantly as my vision cleared up. I pulled myself out of the ship, surprised to find my legs steady as I stood up.

“Wh-What was in that?”

“It’s just my hangover cure,” he shrugged. “It’s been saving my ass over the last twenty years.”

“Thanks, Rick,” I murmured, moving closer to him. “For everything. I had a lot of fun.”

“Y-Yeah, no problem,” he stammered, his voice gravelly as he rested his hand on the small of my back.

My head may have been cleared up by his “cure” but being this close to him was intoxicating all on its own. I bit my lip as I looked up at him, earning me a low growl as he pressed his lips to mind, kissing me desperately. I returned his kiss eagerly, pulling him closer to me. He picked me up with ease, carrying me over his workbench.

“Are you sure you wanna do this out here?” I breathed, breaking the kiss to both of our frustration. “Beth-”

“Beth’s asleep,” he growled, reclaiming my lips. I wanted to continue arguing but his wandering hands pushed the thought right out of my mind. He worked his hand up under my shirt, pleased to find no bra underneath. My breast was cupped in one hand while the other worked its way into my hair, curling around my hair to pull my head away from him. My neck exposed, he watched me squirm underneath of him. I was completely under his control and he was enjoying every moment of it.

“R-Rick- Rick please,” I begged softly, desperate for stimulation of any kind.

“All in good time, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear, lingering just inches away. “What do you want me to do to you, Nova? Tell me what you want.”

“R-Rick, I-”

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl.”

“I want- I want you, please,” I cried desperately, “I want you so fucking bad.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know that,” he chuckled darkly. “I want to know what you want me to do to you right now. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to make you scream my name until you forget your own?”

“Jesus, fuck yes, Rick,” I gasped, biting my lip again. He growled softly at the sight, panting softly as he dropped his hand from my breast, searching instead for the warmth below. He traced his fingers around my thighs, making sure to avoid the most sensitive area.

“So you want me to slide my cock in right here?” he asked, tracing a large circle around the throbbing mound between my legs.

“I need it,” I pleaded, clawing at his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer.

“Who am I to deny you?” he cooed in my ear, releasing my hair and gripping the sides of my yoga pants. He tossed them to the side as the cool air swirled around my exposed lower half. I shivered as I watched him unbuckle his pants, letting them fall lazily to ground as he pushed his way between my thighs. He dragged the tip of his cock up and down my moist slit.

“Oh Rick, oh fuck,” I murmured, my hands firmly rooted on his shoulders.

“Say my fucking name, Nova. Let the neighbors know who’s fucking you,” he growled, continuing his assault on my clit to torturous effect.

“Rick!” I moaned. At my compliance he slid the tip in, sliding it in and out slowly.

“Louder, Nova. I don’t think they heard you,” he ordered, his voice being over by a slight pant.

“Fuck, Rick! It’s you! Rick fucking Sanchez!” I shouted, letting my head fall back. He slammed into me finally as I continued screaming his name as loud as I possibly could. I released his shoulders, laying back on the table and pulling my knees into my chest. He quickened his pace, using his thumb to massage my clit gently.

“Fuck, Nova,” he panted as he buried himself in me, “You feel fucking amazing.”

I could feel my orgasm building, only moments from my release as he fell into a steady rhythm. I would have made there had it not been for the garage door swinging open, slamming into the dryer behind it.

“God fucking dammit, Dad!” Beth bellowed, shielding her eyes from the sight of her father burying his cock into her best friend. “I cannot fucking do this anymore, you guys need to stop!”

“H-Hold on, honey,” Rick grunted, quickening his pace.

“R-Rick, no- Stop,” I insisted, pushing him away from me. He conceded, pulling out of me and bending down to pull his pants up.

“What the fuck do you want, Beth?” he snarled, turning to face his daughter, taking care to shield my exposed form. I looked around desperately for my pants only to find them dangling haphazardly on the Meeseeks box.

“I want this to fucking stop,” she demanded, avoiding my gaze. “You’re waking up the entire fucking house. I sure as fuck don’t want to hear it.”

“B-Beth, I-I’m sorry,” I blushed, pulling my shirt down as much as possible.

“You know what, I don’t want to fucking hear it, Nova. Your daughter is asleep in this house,” she hissed, finally meeting my gaze. A look of fury I had never seen before distorted her features as she glared at me, turning to disgust as her eyes drifted downward. “Dad, you need to stop this, now. Nova, it might be time for you to start looking for somewhere else to live.”

“B-Beth, wait- please, no,” I begged, tears streaking down my cheeks.

“You know, I’m starting to think Jerry was right about you two,” Beth said coldly, “I thought I was okay with it when it meant Dad would stay but I was wrong. What you’re doing with him is wrong. He’s my fucking father, you sick fucking bitch,”

“Jesus fucking christ Beth, stop,” Rick cut in, advancing toward her. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that.”

“Why not?” she asked hysterically. “You two didn’t consider my feelings in the situation. I’m just supposed to be okay with it? Even when the thought makes me feel sick to my stomach?”

“Your fucking hangups are not our problems,” Rick snarled. He grabbed my pants off of the shelf, tossing them back to me. I slipped them on quickly and pushed past Rick.

“Beth, I’m sorry. We were really inconsiderate, I’m so fucking sorry.” I pleaded with my friend to see reason but the cold, clinical disgust in her eyes assured me it was a lost cause.

“You need to leave,” she repeated coldly. “Madison can stay here until you have somewhere to go but I suggest you go back to your house tonight. I don’t want to see you here in the morning.”

“Beth, she’s not going anywhere-”

“No, Rick. It’s fine,” I conceded, wiping the tears away as I pushed the garage door opener.

“No, Nova. You’re not going anywhere,” he roared, pushing the button again. “I-I can fix this.” He started digging through the drawers at his workbench, finally extracting a large gun with two discs. He pushed a couple buttons before aiming it at Beth, pulling the trigger. She crumpled to the floor, eyes glazed over.

“Rick! What did you do to her?” I asked, horrified. “Did you kill Beth?!”

“Wh-What? No?” he retorted, insulted by the accusation. “I just erase the last half an hour from her memory. I’m going to put her back in her bed, when she wakes up she won’t remember any of this.” He pulled a vial from the device, loading it with another before sitting it down on his workbench.

“S-So, everything’s okay now?” I asked numbly. He nodded quickly, pulling Beth over his shoulder. “I’m just- I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Y-You okay?” he asked, stopping at the door to face me.

“I-I’m fine,” I murmured, pushing past him. I couldn’t get Beth’s words out of my head as I went into my room, locking the door behind me before collapsing in my bed.

“He’s my fucking father, you sick bitch.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time for me to leave.

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #Rick Sanchez/reader

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