#but then you go into the city and across the river you can sorta see the divide

[marciaillust]

I added some colours to her :)

[sparrowsupportgroup]

hyperspecific things i daydream about for Ais’s route:

i. bar brawl

So, you know how Ais likes bar brawls? Imagine a scene similar to the one when he punches the roughneck in the demo but this time it’s multiple roughnecks and the stakes are even higher, they’re even more deadly, and a lot more is at risk - like your life, for example.

If Ais knocked out a roughneck that threatened you and he barely knew you at that point, I feel he would do even more destructive damage to any threats when he’s really attached to you if it meant keeping you safe.

So I imagine instead of Ais merely just fighting in the bar brawl, he straight up slaughters EVERYBODY(expect you of course) and now y’all are both surrounded by the carnage he created and you have to deal with the aftermath of him struggling to control his emotions, the aftermath of realizing when Ais loves someone, it’s a bloodbath for everyone else. But you already love red if you love Ais.

ii. flood

Considering Eridia is a river city, I wonder if there has ever been a flood?

This could be a bad end scenario or something, but I think it would be crazy if Eridia would have a flood except all the water is from the Seaspring.

Ais could try his best to contain the Seaspring waters but Ocudeus literally forces his hand/takes control of him and Eridia is swept away into a red, watery apocalypse.

Ais has to be tortured by the fact that he not only doomed everyone, he also doomed you.

iii. trust

Sorta continuing from the second scenario, I would love to see a situation where Ais’s self-control is put to the test.

Hyperspecific circumstance, but imagine if Ais has to carry you across the waters of the Seaspring for your safety. Of course, this is a nightmare for the both of you.

You have to anxiously wonder if Ais, known to be unpredictable and slowly losing control of his mind, won’t submerge you under the water, forcing your submission to the Groupmind and Ocudeus, if he has sinked far enough down into the darkness of the abyss to even consider betraying your trust in him in such a horrific way.

For Ais, his façade of calm is slowly splintering. He has lost so many people dear to him, some even by his own hand. He knew better than to get attached to you but it’s too late; you’re in his veins, in his blood, and he cannot purge you out even if he wanted to.

He’s holding you above the water as high he can but it’s so easy, so tempting, to let you go, to let you fall, to hold you down under the water as you struggle for your life, for your sanity, for your humanity.

But every time he toes the edge of that cliff, ready to jump off with you trapped in his arms, Ais pulls himself back. He can’t betray your trust or your hard-earned faith in him; he cannot douse the flickering hope that, against all odds, that he can protect you. That he can save you. That there’s salvation in his hands that can hurt, and will hurt again.

So Ais holds you tighter to him, so tight you’re almost melded into his skin. Whether it’s to comfort you or him, he does not know.

[elvenbeard]

Call

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic Summary: V finally opens up about his newest post-Mikoshi symptoms weighing him down. Kerry suggests a "bring-your-merc-to-work"-day to distract them both from the doom and gloom and the anxiety about an outstanding phone call. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 6/?, 6790 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V, mentions of drug use, smoking, body dysphoria) - notes at the end!

>> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

Kerry nearly dropped his guitar at the faint sound of V’s ringtone upstairs. At first, he hadn’t even fully registered it as the phone, himself on the sofa downstairs as he strummed away, trying to figure out a good bridge for a song that had been giving him trouble. He’d had this guitar, an old-fashioned acoustic one, since the early 2000s, and he only just caught himself from tossing it as he jumped to his feet. Nibbles perked up, ears folding back and eyes wide as he stormed past her towards the stairs, taking two steps at once. By the time he reached the upper floor, the phone had gone silent already. V sat at the edge of their bed, their eyes met. V was startled for a moment, pupils glowing golden from accepting the holocall. Kerry froze. He took a few deep breaths in a futile attempt to calm his racing heart somehow, hand clinging to the stair-rail still. But V’s posture was surprisingly relaxed, and Kerry’s tension as well dissolved when he began to speak.

“Hey, River,” V said, smiling.

“Fuck…” Kerry exhaled, shoulders dropping. Then he slowly trotted over to sit on the bed beside V.

“Yeah, no, I’d been meanin’ to call you back,” V continued, “No, I’m alright just… Been a couple of crazy busy days. I’ll tell you the details next time we meet in person.”

Kerry put his hand on V’s thigh and listened to the conversation quietly in thought. The sandstorm had almost passed by now, but it was getting dark outside – well, dark for Night City standards at least. They’d both dozed off earlier after their shower quickie, but Kerry was woken up again soon after by a nightmare he thankfully didn’t remember. Glad to not have stirred V as well he had then decided to let him sleep and snuck downstairs. Still, V looked awfully tired, dark circles under his eyes just not fading at all anymore. He soon wouldn’t even need his beloved smudged eyeliner…

“Sure yes, I’ll do,” V said to River on the holo, then turned to look at Kerry with a gentle smile, “River says hi.”

“Hi back at him. And at Joss and the kids,” Kerry nodded, and V delivered the greetings promptly.

“Okay,” he then said, “Yes, take care, too. See ya!”

The call ended and V sighed, tossing his phone back on the nightstand, and in the same movement grabbed his pill bottles. One with the painkillers prescribed by the hospital, one from Vik to help alleviate his post-relic symptoms.

“Forgot to put the fuckin’ thing on mute,” V muttered struggling to open the bottles with one hand. Kerry gently took the pill bottles without a word, opened them, and handed V one pill each. He swallowed them both at once before taking the bottles again from Kerry to set them back down.

“Sleep well at least?” Kerry made sure.

“Sorta,” V groaned hoarsely, stretching very slowly and carefully, “My head is killing me. Can barely move either. But I’m a little less tired than before at least.”

“Small mercies,” Kerry just said, gently rubbing V’s back, “Do you… wanna rest some more? Or are you hungry? I could go for a bite actually, order somethin’ real quick. Or… I think maybe there’s still pizza in the freezer, too…”

V looked away, gaze drifting out of the window and across the dust-covered cityscape.

“I’m not really hungry, no,” he said after a couple of moments.

“Doubt that sorry excuse for a breakfast was so filling…” Kerry frowned.

“No, I’m just… ah, I dunno.”

He sat slightly slumped forward, kind of cute with his fresh-out-of-bed hair, naked apart from their towel and blanket loosely wrapped around his hips still… but it was pretty obvious that something was bothering him.

“Talk to me, V,” Kerry said calmly, his hand still on V’s back, expecting to be urged to launch their next investigation of the penthouse for Mr. B’s tech.

V slowly turned his head back to look at him.

“Even if it’s Mikoshi again?”

Kerry was surprised, not only about the topic, but at how carefully V asked… almost as if he feared to be rejected.

“Especially then,” Kerry said firmly.

True… it was always Mikoshi. Or at least V’s worries and troubles often boiled down to what had happened there. No wonder. Kerry knew the rough rundown of the night, and that it hurt V to talk about certain details, about what Alt had had to do him and Johnny in particular. Kerry never dared to ask for clarification on some specifics despite not quite understanding them, because he didn’t want to poke around in an open wound.

Ironically, Johnny and V had never even gotten along that well. It had been a constant back and forth, a love-hate relationship if Kerry had ever seen one. It hadn’t been much different between Johnny and Kerry himself, Johnny and everyone else, really... It’s just how he had been like, self-absorbed, confrontational sometimes purely out of spite and in ignorance of his own feelings (and fuck, if that wasn’t something Kerry could only understand too well by now). V and Kerry had talked about what Alt’s plan had entailed before he’d even decided to follow through with it, before there was even any mention of “we’ll storm Arasaka Tower in an improvised suicide mission”. At the time, due to their difficult relationship, V had been fully on board with getting Johnny out of his head, whatever it would take, still waiting for an offer from the Arasakas themselves.

Despite Silverhand’s asshole behavior though, all his faults… he’d left a lasting impact on both their lives. It had taken Kerry half a century to mourn and get over his loss for a reason, but despite their decades-long friendship, he and Johnny had never been as close as what V and Johnny had developed over the course of just a few months. V wouldn’t admit it, but he missed the annoying voice of unreason in his head a lot. His words when Kerry found him on Corpo Plaza that night still echoed through Kerry’s head, full of fear and despair and regret…

“He’s gone… and it was all for nothing.”

In a way, even now still, Kerry somewhat envied Johnny for the connection he’d had with V, wished sometimes he could just read V’s mind and see what was going on in his head when V struggled to find the words, like so often lately... Thankfully, it wasn’t necessary this time around with V breaking the silence.

“Ever since I walked out of Mikoshi, I’ve felt this… disconnect. It’s hard to describe,” V began slowly.

Kerry hesitated.

“You said you… didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror sometimes? As in, literally?”

Anxiety began to slowly drive its claws into his chest.

“Yes and no…” V looked at his hands resting in his lap, “It’s like… logically I know this is my body. Has always been, and hell, haven’t I battled with it before... I guess what comes closest is some sort of body dysphoria… but also not?”

He paused, looked up at Kerry briefly, then out the window again.

“Like, before I figured out I was trans, it was similar, but not quite the same... Fuck, it’s like, somethin’ small is off, I just can’t put my finger on it. Like an itch on the inside of your skull you can impossibly scratch.”

Kerry didn’t know what to say that he hadn’t already said before; that doctors hadn’t told them yet either. All he felt he could do was sit here and listen. V continued.

“I’m wondering if this is what Alt meant when she said Soulkiller would… kill my soul. Leave me nothing but a cluster of memories and thoughts… A blurry copy of myself, trapped in a body so adjusted to Johnny already that it would’ve been smarter to just – …”

He choked on his words, and Kerry’s own throat grew tight at the sight of V slumping forward again and covering his face with his hands. He didn’t cry. In fact, it was dead silent between them, but that was almost worse. Kerry still had his hand on V’s back, gently caressing in circles.

“What can I do, V?” he asked hoarsely after a while, cause hell, if there was anything... V sighed and shrugged, but kept his face covered.

“I don’t know,” he then mumbled, “I’m no longer fighting the Relic, but my own body is fighting me now. I wonder if this is what it was like for Johnny. For him it got better over time but for me… it’s slowly gonna get worse.”

“What… is getting worse, exactly?” Kerry almost didn’t dare to ask. This was the most they’d spoken about V’s health in such detail in… forever, probably. Not surrounded by doctors flinging around medical terms, both of them relatively calm and not too overwhelmed by stress and emotion, in the safety of their home... if they truly weren’t secretly spied on by Blue-Eyes.

V slowly lowered his hands and sat up straight again.

“It’s like… I’m growing number to my own feelings, little by little,” he then said, staring out the window, the orange glow outside reflected in his hazel eyes like embers.

“Johnny described it once as this sort of delay... I’d, dunno, bump my toe somewhere, but he’d only feel the pain five seconds later. But what I’m feeling now is not quite that, even though it sometimes comes close. I’m not really hungry anymore, not how I used to be, unless I’m actually starving. I’m not as scared of physical dangers anymore, not how I used to be… It’s like someone dulled down my sense of self-preservation. I’m like an addict that needs a larger dose, a bigger kick, to be able to feel the effects of the drugs still… but make the drugs all the little things that make you human.”

Kerry pondered this for a couple of moments, let it sink in.

“And it’s like that… with everything?” he carefully asked. V shook his head briefly, flinching sightly, his healthy hand shooting up to the back of his hurting neck.

“Not with everything, no. Physical pain, for some reason,” he said with a smirk, “Cause I’m lucky like that. It’s also not affecting my feelings for you, they haven’t changed or dulled…”

He hesitated.

“But I’m scared shitless that if this… progresses, I will grow numb for you, too. For everyone and everything I care about… I’m scared that maybe it’s already begun, with what you said earlier that I… just went through with Mr. B’s plan without many second thoughts, without telling you. Not because he manipulated me, but because I’m becoming numb to the possible consequences of my actions...”

“V, no, that… yeah, I was mad at you earlier but, that’s not what I meant,” Kerry tried to relativize.

“No, no, it’s okay,” V said with a sad smile, “I’m glad you said it, because if you hadn’t... Maybe I’m just doing all this shit because it still makes me feel alive when I’m already dead inside. Resting and positive thinking alone don’t really do the trick when it comes to trying to feel something still.”

There was a long heavy pause.

“Ah, fuck…” V then just sighed, “I hate all of this so much.”

He rubbed his eyes and then leaned against Kerry’s shoulder, and Kerry held him close.

“I know… me too.”

They ended up ordering food after all that evening, something nice and spicy from their favorite Mexican restaurant, real high-quality, ‘ganic comfort food… But it was still a rather gloomy, quiet night beyond that.

By the time the sun began to rise the next morning, Kerry had already been lying awake for an hour or so and watched V in his sleep. At least when he slept, he seemed at peace still – it was enough that he had been living one nightmare after the other for the better part of six months now, since that first fateful heist.

When they sat in the kitchen together for breakfast over their first cups of coffee later, Kerry kept catching himself anxiously staring at V’s phone, ready for it to go off any moment again. He wasn’t even sure whether he wanted Blue-Eyes to call or not. He worried that whatever he’d promised V to save his life would turn out to be yet another dead end, be attached to countless strings – or maybe turn out to be a lie altogether. But if he didn’t call… he was scared that that would finally break V, having risked so much, wasted so much time for empty promises… Had himself be used again without any payoff whatsoever, led on by the dangling carrot on a stick called “miracle cure”, “more time with your loved ones”, “a chance at life as such” and all the other things he and Kerry both were so desperately hoping for.

Not only to distract himself from his depressing thought-spiral, but also in hopes of cheering V up at least a little bit, he made a suggestion.

“Since you’re basically on sick leave now, would ya wanna come to the studio with me later?” he asked.

Finally, V’s smile returned.

“Think Lee is gonna survive me showing up there unannounced?”

Kerry chuckled.

“He better gets used to it, ‘cause I’m not planning on bringing anyone else anytime soon,” he said.

“What’re you working on today?” V asked, drinking from his mug and setting it back down between them.

“Mostly fine-tuning some stuff with ‘Shivers’… the transition from the chorus to the second verse kinda sucks still. We gotta work something out.”

“So, they still wanna go with that as the first single?” V asked frowning, and Kerry sighed.

“Yeah… I mean, it’s a fuckin’ good song. It’s gonna be a hit for sure,” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic, “Still would’ve liked ‘Vision of your Memories’ better as the first release. But they say the title’s too long, it’s too calm, too different from what the fans are used from me. As if that’s not the point of the whole damn album…”

He made a throwaway gesture and then also downed the rest of his coffee.

“No point arguing, they’re gonna do what they’re gonna do anyway.”

“And Lee can’t put in a word for you?” V asked and Kerry couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, seriously,” V insisted, “He’s your fuckin’ manager, apparently, and yet…”

“… and yet, he only works for the label, still,” Kerry finished the thought, “Managers that actually fight on the side of the artists they sign are wishful thinkin’... But he’s still better than Kovachek.”

“Anyone would’ve been better than Kovachek,” V laughed dryly as they then got up from the counter to get dressed for the day.

V had been to the studio that belonged to MSM Records a handful of times before, usually just briefly stopping by with “real” coffee, between gigs that led him into the area anyway. The building sat right at the district border between Charter Hill and Japantown, only just part of the former, and not far away from Dark Matter. All in all, it was as well ridiculously close to the corporate apartments at Grant Avenue that V had grown up in. Both him and Kerry still waited for some old photo or video to surface in which they’d both been caught in at the same time, completely unaware of the other’s existence.

Kerry took the lead as they entered the building from the underground parking garage, through the security scanner, past the reception desk and towards the elevators. It wasn’t particularly busy this morning, the only person really that noted their existence was the perpetually smiling receptionist greeting them. Both the entrance hall as well as the floor they were headed to screamed generic corpo-chic. Clean, sleek, not quite as dark as Arasaka had been, but just as imposing. The floor on the level with the recording booths featured light carpet with a golden, geometric pattern, interrupted by the MSM logo every couple of yards. The tall, dark-grey walls were indirectly lit with embedded, golden neon stripes creating triangular shapes and showcased the label’s most successful album and single releases of recent years. In passing V spotted “Second Conflict” and both Kerry’s and Us Cracks’ versions of “User Friendly”. The hallway split after about 30 feet and Kerry turned left, headed towards the recording booth booked for him today. V followed closely.

“Urgh, could be that halfway through some marketing gonks show up with merch mockups,” Kerry grumbled and pulled out his phone, “Lee just updated my schedule.”

“Oh, so I can get an exclusive sneak peek of all the stuff I can buy with your name on it in a couple of weeks?”

“My name and my face even, if they get their will,” Kerry sighed, “Never been much a fan of slappin’ my mug on t-shirts.”

“’s a pretty mug though. Wouldn’t mind seeing it all around me all the time,” V tried to console him, fearing he would remain correct about the label people doing whatever they wanted anyway. Marketing liked to give you the illusion of being an active participant in the decision-making process while in the background the higher ups had long made all their choices.

Kerry threw him a brief smile as they entered the recording booth.

It was one of the smaller booths V had been to so far, used predominantly for recording vocals. There were bigger ones that fit entire bands, and a level below them were several for recording whole orchestras even, according to Kerry. The room was separated into two areas. There was the actual booth, behind soundproof glass, with sound-insulated walls, and all the technical equipment to actually record music. In the front area, which was almost three times the size of the booth, there was the mixer console, computers, and all the other tech needed to modify the raw sound, as well as a little lounge area with sofas, a coffee maker, and some shelves storing additional equipment and showcasing some more famous albums the label had produced.

On a big white office chair by the console sat Vicki, one of the producers V had met before, and he could feel some of Kerry’s tension drop. Vicki was around 60 years old and had worked with Kerry pretty much since the first day of her internship at MSM and all the way through her ascension in ranks to producer. So, there was at least someone here today that knew what she was doing, in Kerry’s words. Engaged in a conversation with her and seated on one of the two large beige leather sofas in the corner were two sound engineers that worked as Vicki’s assistants. V had met them before, but only in passing, so he didn’t know their names. They probably were somewhere between himself and Vicki in age.

Vicki’s pale green eyes lit up when Kerry entered the room, and she got up from her chair to give him a brief hug.

“Hi, Kerry, so glad you could make it, I know it’s early today, but I thought better get this done sooner rather than later, right?” she said, words like rapid-fire.

“If I had my way, we’d just fuckin’ leave ‘Shivers’ on the backburner for a bit until I figure out what I wanna do with it,” Kerry grumbled, “But you know how it is.”

Vicki stepped back and patted Kerry on the shoulder.

“I know, I know… Let’s make the best out of it, right?”

 Then she turned to V, flinging a long strand of her hair, dyed pitch-black, over her shoulder.

“V, right?” she asked, smiling brightly as she extended a hand with similarly long black nails.

“Vicki, nice to see you again,” V said and reciprocated her handshake.

“Dang it, Kerry, you gotta tell me sometime how you two met, such a gentleman! Do you have an older brother, or a sister maybe, V?” Vicki laughed, voice raspy and loud. She was quite the character, in her all-black leather gear with beige faux-fur collar and sparkly studs all over, but most people in Kerry’s world seemed to be. Unlike most of them though, Vicki also really knew what she was doing. As soon as she sat down behind the mixing console all the extravagant loudness faded and was replaced by cool professionalism and long-honed skill.

“Make yourself comfortable, I gotta feeling we’ll be here for a while today,” Vicki said gesturing towards the sofas before turning back to Kerry, “And you siddown and jack in so we can go through the parts that have been bothering you, alright?”

Both V and Kerry did what they were told, as Vicki truly would be the one holding the reigns here today. The two sound engineers got up and joined Vicki and Kerry by the mixing console and followed her instructions closely as she listened to the demo of the song with Kerry, pausing now and then when they got to a part that bothered him. V watched this all closely and with great interest. He’d learned to play the piano as a kid, mostly because his father wanted him to, but he was far from calling himself a musician. Still, he was fascinated by Kerry’s knowledge and passion for his craft, only understanding little of what he referred to (probably also given the fact that only he and Vicki and the engineers were able to hear the music while V wasn’t). Still, he was deeply impressed and… yeah, very proud, however weird that may have sounded spoken out loud. He was proud of Kerry being so damn good at making awesome music with a message and deeper meaning. V wouldn’t even know where to start, even if he wanted to.

“Okay, okay, okay, I think the problem here is not the melody as such,” Vicki said after about 10 minutes of intense revision, “I think we’re missing a beat or two… you kinda expect there to be something here that then never happens, listen again… Throws you off. Make sense?”

“Yeah… yeah it does,” Kerry nodded after a few seconds of pondering, “So, change the lyrics?”

“We could just drop the ‘gives you’, it’s an easy fix, no need to re-record, just edit it out.”

“Ah, I dunno,” Kerry was unimpressed by the suggestion, crossed his arms.

The discussion continued a little while longer, the two old musicians beginning to get lost in the details, each change they suggested leading to adjustments that then led to further disagreements from the other or new problems as a whole. V could only imagine how this would have gone down during Samurai times, with not two but five people with wildly different opinions clashing like this – Kerry and Johnny alone would have probably caused enough disagreements on their own. And yet, their success at the time spoke for itself – maybe a little bit of fighting over melody and rhythm was necessary to make a great song. Watching these two now go back and forth was a welcome distraction to V as well, seated on the sofa still, elbows resting on his thighs… but his phone clutched expectantly in his right hand.

“Okay, y’know what… Let’s just re-record this bit. We’re runnin’ round in circles,” Kerry then said with annoyance, jacked out of the mixing console and got up from his chair.

“The whole chorus?” Vicki asked frowning.

“Can also do the whole fuckin’ song if you wanna,” Kerry shrugged.

“Let’s start with the chorus, show me what you mean,” she said calmly, and Kerry was halfway through the door into the recording booth already, “Don’t you wanna do some warm-up first?”

“What, I’ve been warming up the past hour with you already,” Kerry teased and closed the door behind himself. Vicki made a disapproving noise and turned to look at V, pointing at Kerry with her thumb.

“Is he like that at home, too?”

V smiled and motioned that his lips were sealed when it came to their private life, and Vicki just nodded understandingly.

“Thought so,” she said and turned back around to switch on a few more screens of the truly massive mixing console in front of her. V got up from the sofa now to be able to watch Kerry still, as he was barely visible anymore in the booth from his seated position. Kerry had put on headphones, even though he wouldn’t even need to with his implants. He���d told V once he preferred them still for old times’ sake. He was pacing around the booth now in a small circle, stretching and, by the looks of it, doing some vocal exercises after all. V couldn’t hear him, but the sight alone made his heart beat faster, Kerry so in his element, so full of passion for something that was not in a way self-destructive. V was still lowkey mad that he didn’t have any clear memories of the Samurai reunion gig, but then again… maybe it was for the best.

After a couple of minutes of warmup Kerry positioned himself by his microphone. His bright eyes met with V’s across the pop filter and Kerry grinned. It was infectious. Then he turned to Vicki, saying something only she could hear via the intercom.

“Oh! Yeah, can do,” she said and turned around to V, “Wanna listen in, too?”

“Would I be allowed to?” V asked, still vividly remembering the hissy fit about signing NDAs Lee threw the first time he had stopped by here. But at the same time, he jumped at every opportunity to hear Kerry sing.

“Hey, I’m in charge here today,” Vicki grinned, “Francine, go and fetch him some headphones… Or do you have an audio implant?”

“’fraid not,” V shook his head, then one of the audio engineers jumped from her seat to look through the equipment shelf, handing V a pair of high-end studio headphones.

“I’ll sync you up in a moment,” she said.

“Thanks,” V replied and put them on. Kerry had begun pacing around the booth again while Vicki finalized some settings on her console.

“Yeah, yeah, they’ll surely approve of that,” she muttered in an amused tone. In the next second there was a slight crackling on V’s ears and finally he heard Kerry quietly singing, so up-close and clear that it gave him goosebumps... Then he realized he was improvising all sorts of profanities directed at the label bosses to the melody of “Archangel”. V couldn’t help but laugh, and Kerry spun around to look at V.

“Whaddaya think, this would make a good bonus track, right?”

“I love it,” V snickered.

“See! It’s a preem idea,” Kerry shrugged.

“C’mon now, let’s get started,” Vicki chuckled and gave the okay to start recording.

V kept himself in the background, but listening to Kerry sing like this was certainly a treat he hadn’t expected to ever get. He was very particular about who would be allowed to hear songs that were still in progress – not out of some artistic superiority complex, V was certain. Kerry wouldn’t admit it, but he was sure it was plain old self-consciousness about his works in progress. V respected his decision to keep everything a secret until it was polished enough, even though he would love to hear what he’d been working on so hard these past few months. But maybe him being here for this today was a first step in the right direction at least.

They recorded three or four new versions of the chorus, all with minor differences between them. Kerry and Vicki were in the middle of deciding which one to choose to move forward with. Then an incoming holocall tore V out of the so far slow and peaceful morning.

“Oh fuck, now?” he muttered at the sight of “Unknown Caller ID” in the corner of his interface. He took off is headphones and handed them back to Francine, only just overhearing Kerry ask, “What’s wrong?”

V pulled out his phone.

“I’ll be right back, important call!” he said and slipped into the hallway.

Reception was bad within the building, so V quickly walked to the nearby stairs that would lead him to the rooftop lounge. He’d been up there with Kerry a handful of times for a coffee or smoke break. His phone kept ringing, but V’s hurting legs weren’t really cooperating with him as he tried to climb up all the way to the roof in a timely manner. His chest burned just from breathing and his head was pounding despite the painkillers, the cascading echo of his steps in the mostly metal stairwell not helping. Halfway up he decided to just accept the call, hoping that no one would be waiting for him at the top or hear him on the levels below.

“Yes, hello?” he said, out of breath and full of anticipation and anxiety.

“Yes, hello, stranger,” was the reply that V had not expected at all. Neither the voice. He froze and couldn’t speak until all that still reverberated around him was his own heartbeat.

“Judy?” he then asked, in disbelief.

“Oh, so you do still know who I am, good!” she said, tone not entirely serious, “Hope I’m interrupting an important Fixer meeting? Client talks? A secret gig?”

Yup, definitely not Mr. Blue-Eyes.

“Why’s your caller ID blocked?” V decided to ask once he’d accepted that this would become an entirely different conversation than he had expected.

“’Cause I was worried you wouldn’t pick up otherwise. You didn’t the last couple of times.”

“Ugh… sorry, I… I’d been meaning to call you back, but…”

“It’s been a horribly busy couple o’ days, I know,” she then said slightly mockingly, and V couldn’t help but laugh at his own predictability.

The sun greeted him as he finally opened the door to the lounge, as did the wind and a breathtaking view across Charter Hill. Not quite as impressive as from the Dark Matter, but still a sight to behold. A couple of lounge chairs were arranged around a whirlpool and bar area currently closed off, and fake bamboo framed the whole space, giving it some privacy. The label occasionally threw wild parties here, or so Kerry had told him. V grabbed one of the smaller lounge chairs and moved it closer to the railing overlooking the city.

“Everything good? You sound a bit… winded,” Judy asked.

“Yeah, I…” V tried to come up with an excuse… but what was the point, really?

“I had a car accident, two days ago,” he decided to tell her.

“Fuck, V, shit… Really? Fuck… You okay?”

“All things considered, yeah. Was lucky for once,” he said and carefully sat down, “I’m a bit bruised up all over, but I’ve been a lot worse. Nothin’ I won’t recover from.”

Then he turned on his holo display to finally be able to see Judy. It appeared she was sitting on the roof of her van, tall red rock formations behind her. It was quite windy there, too, her hair blowing across her face as she kept trying to tuck it behind her ear without success.

“Hello again, properly now,” he said, and she grinned. She did seem so much happier, at ease, far away from Night City, a little more every time they spoke… regardless, he really missed their late-night in-person chats on the rooftop of her apartment building. Having her around and close by to knock some sense into him now and then would really make a difference right about now.

“Damn, buddy, you look like shit,” she said, still smiling, but not without the faintest frown appearing on her forehead.

“Thanks. Likewise.”

“Aww,” Judy chuckled, “Didn’t your parents teach you not to lie?”

“No,” V said nonchalantly, “They encouraged it, actually.”

She laughed.

“But for real, V, you look tired as hell. That can’t be just from the accident. What’s goin’ on?”

V wouldn’t even know where to begin. He’d been keeping Judy somewhat up to date, whenever she asked and actually wanted to know… but obviously also not on anything concerning Blue-Eyes and the Crystal Palace gig.

“Same old story, Judy,” he eventually settled on, “I’m dying and trying to figure out a way not to. Yet, at least.”

Judy’s expression grew slightly darker again, and she pulled her legs closer, shifting in her seat slightly.

“So, even Kerry’s doctors couldn’t do anything? What about Panam, I thought she was trying to think of something, too? Find someone that could help down in Arizona?”

“Last I heard from Panam was they’d have to go radio silent for a little while,” V said, “Trouble with the Raffen, again. Last time we spoke though there was nothing new on her end either.”

“Fuuuck…” Judy cursed under her breath.

Even though they were hundreds of miles apart, for a moment it felt like they were back together on that rooftop, the same wind tugging on their clothes and hair, the same sun shining down on them.

“Don’t get mad if I suggest something,” Judy then said quietly.

“I’m too tired to get mad,” V said without thinking, but really, it was true.

Judy hesitated a few more moments, looking over her shoulder, and V believed to see glistening water behind her, the Pacific probably. Then she turned back to look at him.

“What if… you’d just let it happen,” she said, voice quiet and slightly shaky, “And shit, I’m not saying this lightly but… You’re destroying yourself over this. I hate watching you run into dead ends over and over again, with no progress.”

“You mean, my time was borrowed anyway, and I should just accept it’s time to give it back?” V asked, trying his best not to sound too judgmental.

Judy said no word, just nodded. V looked to his feet, then back up at the sky. He took a deep breath.

“Not like it hasn’t crossed my mind yet,” he admitted then, “I have… one more option available right now, but if that also leads to nothing… I’m running out of time as is.”

“That’s what I mean,” Judy said, “You’re running and running… but maybe you just can’t outrun this. You’re just exhausting yourself. Chasing something that might not exist. You and me both know Night City’s great promises….”

“I know…” V said quietly.

“Why not spend the time you have left actually living,” she added after a moment, “Instead of running yourself into the ground even faster…”

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to the wind, and V was sure now to hear the crashing ocean waves on Judy’s end. She’d invited him to tag along a handful of times already, even if only for a while… but even though he sometimes wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Night City. Not yet at least… and not without Kerry.

“Easier said than done,” he said eventually, “You know me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Judy laughed weakly, “Hell-bent on getting your way, whatever it takes.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say whatever it takes…” V tried to reason but Judy shook her head vehemently.

“Nope, we’re not having this discussion again,” she laughed, then paused briefly once more, “But anyway, let’s drop the doom and gloom… I called not only to check in on you. Wanted to ask if you have time around the… 15th?”

“Around the 15th, or on the 15th?”

“Oh, shut up!” Judy grumbled, but was smiling again, “Block off the whole week if you gotta, Mr. Important. But… yeah, I’ll pass through NC. And I thought, if you have time, we could hang. Rooftop pizza and all included.”

“Really?” V smiled, “Yeah, of course, would be awesome!”

“Nova,” Judy said, “Then hang in there until I’m back at least to punch you in the shoulder one more time for being a gonk.”

“Wouldn’t wanna pass that up,” V said.

Judy nodded.

“Alright… V, I gotta go now if I wanna make it to my destination before sunset. But it was really good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Judy,” V said, “Next time in person. Lemme know when you actually get here.”

“I will keep you posted,” she said, “Take care, and – damn who am I tellin’ this – but still: be careful who you put your trust in.”

With a little wave and wink she ended the call.

V sighed, lowered his phone and his head and closed his eyes. Just letting it happen, let madness and death come take him… In the end it would boil down to exactly this most likely, no matter what he did to postpone it. But that was it… All he wanted was a little more time. Not even necessarily for his own sake at this point, but for Kerry… give him a little more time to adjust, gain some more stability back in his life so he would be able to better cope with inevitably losing him to this mess. And give himself the time to cope with the fact that he’d leave the love of his life behind at 28, all the unlikely friends he’d made, that he’d achieved so much and yet so little that truly mattered in the grand scheme of things…

As if he’d summoned him by thinking this the door to the stairwell swung open and Kerry appeared from the shadows.

“Heeeey… was it… him?” he asked slowly as he stepped closer, carefully almost.

“Judy,” V grinned, waving his phone briefly before sliding it into his back pocket.

“Ah, fuck,” Kerry sighed, but again seemed somewhat relieved. He stopped right next to V, leaned against the railing overlooking the city as well, and then pulled out his cigarettes.

“You gotta start calling people back, I can’t take these jump scares anymore.”

“I really gotta,” V smiled quietly and got up from his chair to hug Kerry from behind, resting his chin on his left shoulder to follow his gaze.

“What’d she want?” Kerry asked with a cigarette in his mouth, needing a couple of attempts to light it in the strong winds up here. V reached around to help shield the lighter’s tiny flame with his hands.

“Check in on me,” V said, “Aaand… she’s gonna come to Night City sometime next week.”

Kerry made a surprised humming noise, then wriggled to turn around, trying not to blow the smoke of his first drag into V’s face in his excitement, which proved to be rather difficult. V suppressed a cough and leaned back a little until Kerry had figured out how he wanted to position himself now.

“Sorry, babe,” he said sheepishly, lowering the cigarette, “But… you’re meanin’ I’ll finally get to meet the famous Judy? My man’s best friend that skipped town before I even knew he existed?”

“I’d hope so, yeah,” V smiled, but at the same time his heart was heavy still from the topic of their conversation.

“Preem,” Kerry said and took another drag, this time a bit more mindful of how closely they stood, leaning back against the rail now, “Somethin’ to look forward to, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” V nodded.

Kerry breathed out another plume of smoke, looking up to the sky, exposing his neck and shimmering implants to V… and V couldn’t resist and placed a quick kiss right where Kerry’s Adams apple would have been, eliciting a raspy chuckle from somewhere beneath the warm, smooth, black metal.

“Sneaky. Stealin’ kisses, too, now, huh?” Kerry asked and leaned in to capture V’s lips, his tongue tasting of bitter smoke and coffee, soft and raw at the same time. V clung to Kerry’s jacket for a moment, then let his hands slide underneath it and along his slim waist, annoyed by the barrier his t-shirt created between his skin and V’s fingertips.

“Been told I’m the best when it comes to stealin’ all manners of things,” he whispered against Kerry’s mouth.

“Can confirm,” Kerry chuckled, “Stole my heart, too. Didn’t even notice ‘til it was too late.”

He leaned in again, deepened their kiss, and V closed his eyes and tried to just enjoy the moment – live his life for once, instead of worrying about the future. The taste of Kerry’s lips, his hot breath, his hand on his waist trailing down to the small of his back pulling V snugly against him, warm and soft and strong, holding him as they were both embraced by the sun and wind… and of course, right then and there, V’s phone started ringing again.

Unknown Caller ID.

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

>> Next Chapter

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

Notes:

Thanks so much for reading! I know this was a long one (and I was half tempted to split it into two chapters where the POV changed, but ended up keeping it all in one because it's all about the uncertainty and aaahhh! So yeah XD)

Also, this really was an excuse to write some Kerry in the studio fluff, which I'd wanted to do for a long time :3 Also, there's so many drawing ideas in this chapter hhhhhh... The day needs more hours for all the stuff I wanna draw with them xD

Next time there's gonna be some more action again!

Requested Fic Update Tags:

@humberg @r3d-f0x-blog @thatinternetwanderer @localtranspigeon @projectdanse @kharonion @genocidalfetus

If you'd also like to get tagged when I post a new chapter for this fic, leave a reply on [this post] or send me a DM!

If you do not want to receive further tags, shoot me a quick DM and I'll take you off the list again!

[kareofbears]

plainly in truth, chapter 3/5

"Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

Ryuji grips the letter like it was silver and he was a werewolf in the full moon.

He picks it up, skims over the first line before putting it down beside him, feeling worse every time he does it, only able to read the fine-printed lettering from the flickering lamp post above him. The constant change in light would normally bug him, but he doesn’t really care about it now; it’s not like the words would change in his hand, and he’s long since needed to actually read it to know what it reads.

His feet dangle over the canal, enjoying the way a rush of adrenaline would go through him when he looks down into the deep waters. It’s late enough in the night that even with the city lights around him, he can’t gauge how deep it goes.

Soseikawa Park was only a five minute walk from Odori Park, but with the narrow river and steeped hills, Ryuji found it secluded enough to let himself sit. Breathe. Not exist, even for just a few minutes. It’s like having his own bedroom, except it smells faintly like a sewer and there’s an intersection about ten meters above where he sat underneath the overpass. If he can ignore the never-ending rumble of cars and trucks driving above him, it can almost be considered peaceful.

He lets himself fall back, the grass tickling the back of his neck and his spine screaming in relief. They’re heading out again in two days, which means more days of being in an inescapable RV surrounded by his best friends who are keeping an eye on him because they’re good people who don’t know how to mind their own fucking business.

Idly, he lets his hands pull and brings it to his face—blades of grass. He lets it get taken by the wind. After brief consideration, he shoves the letter back into his pocket before he can do the same thing to it.

He is so tired.

Blindly, he hits the vague area of where his pocket is and fishes out his phone, hitting the first speed dial before he can talk himself out of it. As two rings go by, he stupidly hopes that she doesn’t pick up, as if she hasn’t ever missed a phone call from him even when she’s at work.

The third ring gets cut off halfway through. “Ryu!”

Despite himself, he grins. “Hey, ma. Checking in for the weekly call.”

“I was just thinking about you,” she says, and he can hear the laundry machine run in the background. “I was wondering if you had eaten today.”

“Ma, you ain’t gotta worry about that kinda thing anymore. I’m a big boy now.”

“You’re breaking my heart!” He can almost see her, phone tucked in the crook of her neck, work-worn hands folding her laundry as fast as she can so as to not hold up the next person in line. “It doesn’t matter how big you are, you’re my boy. How can I not think about whether my boy is eating or not?”

“All I’ve done on this trip is eat, ma.”

“Oh, and Akira! How’s that handsome boy doing? Still taking the world by storm?”

That pulls a genuine laugh from him—he never needs to hold back when it comes to talking about Akira, at least. “You know it. He’s the only guy in the world who can stand toe-to-toe with me in chowing down. I swear, he’s slipping some of it under the table ‘cause he’s so damn fast. Forty seconds! Forty seconds to inhale an extra large beef bowl! Blows my mind, seriously.”

“Could never do anything in halves, can he?” she chuckles, before the quality of her voice shifts. “And are you enjoying yourself?”

He hesitates. “Yeah, of course. It’s a roadtrip across Japan, how can I not?”

“Good.” There’s some crackling over the receiver, and he guesses she’s probably adjusting the basket full of clothes on her hip. “That’s all I want to hear. As long as you’re happy, Ryu, I’m a happy old woman.”

Ryuji opens his mouth, ready to console her.

I’m always happy!

You worry too much, ma.

There’s nothing to worry about.

“Sorry, but,” he swallows thickly. “I think they’re calling for me? So—”

“Alright,” she says, and he might be imagining the disappointed tinge to it. “Call back when you can, okay sweetheart? I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he clears his throat. “I love you, ma.”

“I love you too, Ryu.”

He hangs up, letting the phone slip out of his fingers. It lands hard on the flat grass

For a long moment, he just lays there, listening to the gentle lapping waves and cars honking with impatience of people who have somewhere to be. He tries to meditate for half a minute, with all the information he had learned from a couple of YouTube videos, and gives up, because of course he does. Squeezing his eyes shut, he can’t do anything about the creeping dread that’s in his stomach getting stronger, squeezing and squeezing until he feels sick. It’s like his insecurities are having this huge fight against each other, feeding off of one another until it gets too big for him to handle and all he can do is breathe and try to do something about it.

And he’s fucking sick of it—breathing. He’s sick of the stupid breathing techniques, sick of counting down from ten and waiting for his own heart to chill out because his brain won’t stop reminding him of everything he did wrong, of shit he’s still doing wrong because at least this way, nobody knows what he did was wrong. It’s just him that can point and laugh at himself, and that’s way better than having the world do it for him.

He doesn’t cry, because he’s not a crier. He’s the type of guy to throw a fist through drywood before shedding a tear, and he hates that about himself. Rather than do something that will actually help, Ryuji lays there, perfectly still. Listening. Waiting for a meteor to fall on him, or for the overpass to crash its entire weight on top of him.

Instead, he hears footsteps.

His heart rate slows by a fraction, and opens his eyes to meet gray ones. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Akira says, a smile in his voice. “How did you know it was me?”

Ryuji almost feels offended. He would know Akira by sound alone, the way his heels would click in the Metaverse. The way the balls of his feet would strike the earth, hardly muffled by grass or cheap sneakers or anything else as trivial. Ryuji would know he was there; no matter how blind he was with hatred for himself, his love for Akira would always guide him back to where he needs to be.

“Lucky guess.”

“One hell of a guess.” He plops down onto the grass and Ryuji lifts his head, allowing Akira to wiggle until he could use his lap as a pillow. “Your turn,” Akira says.

“My turn to what?”

“To ask me how I knew where you were.”

“Oh.” He lets his eyes slide shut again. “I kinda just assumed you could do that.”

“You assume too much of me sometimes.”

“I assume the right amount.” Ryuji refuses to shiver when he feels long fingers start to card through his hair. “You’re giving me goosebumps,” he sighs.

“That’s a good thing, I think.” The fingers pull away and he’s about to complain when he feels something gets thrown over his torso. “Here. You always end up forgetting to wear an extra layer when you go out like this.”

Ryuji rearranges Akira’s jacket over himself. “Sap.”

“You know it.” He resumes combing through his hair, and Ryuji lets himself relax, just a little. It’s strange—it’s hard as hell being around other people nowadays, and even though Akira can make him feel that sometimes, mostly it helps the eternal twisting of his stomach to settle.

“You’re good at that,” Ryuji mutters.

“Thank you. I’ve had plenty of practice with Morgana.” And just to make it worse, he uses a little bit of nail on his nape, sending electricity running down all the way to his fingertips.

His mouth twists unhappily. “Don’t do shit like that while talking about the cat, for the love of god.”

Akira does it again, like the little shit he is. “You still have that weird thing with your neck?”

“Quit it!” Ryuji slaps his thigh and he can’t muster much anger when he can feel Akira’s shoulders shake from silent laughter. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“You’re right.” Gently, softly, like the world’s lightest feather, he feels lips brush his temple. “I’m funnier.”

His eyes open, and his entire vision is obscured by curly black hair and tender eyes. “You’re right,” he breathes. “You’re funnier.”

Akira bends down again, and Ryuji catches his lips, overflowing with something soft but unafraid, and it’s so good that Ryuji reaches for his cheek just to make it last a little bit longer.

When they break off, Akira kisses his temple again, this time on the left side. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Uh,” he scratches his head, brain a little fuzzy. “Tuesday?”

“It’s Wednesday, and I meant the date. It’s August tenth.”

“Okay?”

Akira thumbs at his collarbone. “I know this might be a little lame that I know it by heart, but I left Tokyo on March 19th. That would mean it’s been—”

“One hundred forty-four days since you moved away,” he finishes. “I know.”

Akira blinks, and then laughs, and Ryuji knows it’s an especially good one because sound actually comes out this time. “Yes,” he says, elated. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

“I told you dude, we’re really on that telepathy shit.”

“We really are.” A pause. “I miss you.”

He’s about to joke—I’m right here, you big dummy—but find that he just can’t. “I miss you too.”

They can’t say what they mean: I will miss you. Summer vacation doesn’t last forever, and two months will always be a hell of a lot shorter than the rest of the ten months that they’ll be apart. Somehow, he dreads seeing Akira gone, and he’ll dread seeing Akira back in Tokyo because it would mean that he’d actually have to see what Ryuji’s really like. Actively pushing away his best friend just so he doesn’t have to see his failures; doesn’t that just make him the worst piece of shit in the world?

There’s a gap, though. A little loophole. A crack in the timeline. A place where maybe he’s allowed to be a hollowed out version of happy; the now.

“Tomorrow’s our last day in Sapporo?”

“Yeah?” Akira replies, surprised at the change in tone.

“Which means Jail stuff is done, right? All your grocery shopping and Sophia Prime’s been ordered and packed up?”

“Yes,” he says, a lilt in his voice. “It’s all done.”

Ryuji sits up and faces him, reaching for his wrists, relishing in the heartbeat thumping against his palms. “Let’s do something. I don’t care what, but let’s do something. Eat at a diner, go to a museum, rob a bank, whatever.” He runs his thumb along the veins there, long since those bumps have been ingrained in his brain. “Let’s do something, just you and me.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Sakamoto?” He has a cocky look in his eye, and Ryuji’s half-tempted to kiss him again just to wipe it clean off his face. “You know I’d follow you anywhere.”

He knows. That’s the scary part. Would Akira still follow someone he doesn’t know as well as he thinks he does? “I’ll get us lost,” he jokes.

Akira doesn’t laugh. “I’d rather be lost with you than learn to lose you.”

It’s been ages since he’s been flustered at anything Akira does, but he feels a rush of heat crawl up his neck. “I’ll—” Ryuji shakes his head, willing his embarrassment to go away. “Shit, uh—”

“I’ll pick where to go,” he interrupts, a little too smug for his liking. “I’d say I’ll pick you up at your place, but…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a comedian,” Ryuji rolls his eyes. “I’ll be ready whenever.”

“Fantastic.” Akira checks his phone, wincing. “It’s late.”

He grips his wrist tightly. “I know.”

Thankfully, he’s never needed to explain much to Akira. “Okay,” he says softly. “Ten more minutes?”

“Yeah.” He lets his eyes slide shut once more, letting out a breath. The world will keep spinning. His stomach will keep twisting. Time will keep marching on, but at least he has this. “Ten minutes sounds good.”

—

The first words that Futaba says as she enters the RV was: “Oh, hell.”

“Hello Futaba-chan, Yusuke-kun,” Haru greets cheerfully from the booth. “How was your shopping trip?”

“...Fine,” she replies, stepping aside to let him in, lugging a four-foot tall canvas in his arms that accidentally hits the ceiling. “Got a new Featherman action figure.”

“I got a canvas,” Yusuke answers from behind the wall of white. “Though I assume you can see that.”

“I can.” Her smile doesn’t falter, and it’s making the hair on Futaba’s nape rise like a nervous animal. “Quick question, since you both are here…”

Haru pulls a tote bag from underneath the table, and it’s so heavy that when she throws it on the table, her teacup nearly topples over. “Would you like to take a guess of what’s in this bag?”

A billion jokes pop into Futaba’s head, but both of them stay silent, terrified and confused. They both knew this was coming, but they didn’t expect her to be so forward about it.

“I suppose that’s a pretty strange question, I’m sorry. Let me try again.” She reaches in and pulls out thick, heavy textbooks, all brightly coloured and consist of beaming, diverse students on the front cover. “Care to tell me why you were both looking at cram books while we’re on our fun roadtrip?”

Yusuke pushes Futaba aside, eyes on the books and wide with shock. “You bought them?!” he exclaims.

“Wait—” Futaba hops repeatedly, trying to catch a glimpse from over his shoulder. “You bought all of them?”

“Of course.”

“But why?”

She thinks about it for a moment. “Hmm, think about it this way. If Akira’s in charge of the group as a whole, and Makoto’s in charge of the more analytical aspect of things, think of me as a somewhat stern yet loving parent who doesn’t quite know how to mind their own business.”

“I thought that was Ann’s job,” Futaba mutters, heart hammering in her chest.

“Now,” Haru leans forward, and as if to prove her role, speaks in a gentle tone. “I’m not mad at you. That would be ridiculous. But I saw you two looking at these books, and I know how expensive they can be, so I’ll give them to you.”

She blinks. “You would?”

“Absolutely!” Haru smiles wide. “On the condition that you tell me why you need them.”

Futaba and Yusuke exchange a glance, before Futaba makes a T with her hands. “Timeout!” she yells, dragging Yusuke by the collar out of the RV.

“What do we do?” he whispers once the door is shut. “It’s not as if we can tell her.”

“I don’t know, maybe we should?” she pushes up her glasses. “Damn, the things money can buy you. Our vow of silence is getting thrown out the window for two handfuls of yen.”

He looks her dead in the eyes. “I would tell the world my deepest secrets if it meant having lifetime access to a grocery store.”

“Don’t say that, you sellout!”

“I’m not selling out. My art already reveals the deepest portion of my soul, it’s not my fault that the common observers cannot pick up what I’m putting down.” He squints against the setting sun. “She’s waiting. What do we do?”

“Okay, okay, okay, just let me—” her mind whirrs rapidly, and for a second she really feels like Sophia. “Give me a second.”

“I have a suggestion,” he points at her. “If we’re not averse to lying, let’s tell them that you need them for school. You’re struggling with academics, you need a bit of outside help, so we took a look at the textbooks.”

“Good idea! Wait.” She frowns. “They’ll never buy it. Let’s say that you need them.”

“I’m at the top of my class!”

“But they don’t know that!” She balls her fists together, determined. “Okay, let’s do this.”

“I didn’t say yes to this.”

Futaba kicks the door open, making Haru pause wiping her spilt drink mid-stroke. “Inari’s struggling with his classes!”

“I—“ Yusuke stammers. “Yes,” he confirms. “I’m struggling with my classes. They’re mighty indeed, and even I find them difficult. I am...struggling.”

Haru looks at them doubtfully. “Yusuke is?”

“I am,” he answers as Futaba says, “He is.”

“Yusuke,” she repeats, gesturing to the neatly-stacked pile of textbooks on the table. “Is struggling with precalculus?”

They stare at her. “Yes,” Yusuke says, slowly. “I am struggling with previous calculus.”

“Out of curiosity, Yusuke,” Haru scratches her cheek. “Do you know what a parabola is?”

“Of course I do,” he replies with the wisdom of a thousand monks. “It’s a self-contradictory statement.”

“That’s a paradox,” Makoto corrects from the steering wheel.

“What the heck?” Futaba jumps a foot in the air. “Why are you here? Why were you hiding?”

“I like to sit here a few hours before we start another road trip,” she says, before glaring at them. “You two. Does this have to do with Ryuji?”

“T-timeout!”

Futaba makes a beeline to the door again, but Haru’s faster. She slips past them, standing in their way, perfect smile still in place. Sometimes Futaba forgets how strong she is in negotiations; her and Yusuke were probably tutorial levels compared to the upper management of Okumura Foods. “Answer her question, please.”

Yusuke sighs, tired. “You know what you’re asking for, don’t you? If we tell you what’s happening here, it would be breaking the trust of one of our teammates.”

“Yusuke!” Futaba hisses. “Are you really thinking about telling them? It’s not even our secret to tell.”

“No, it isn’t.” He makes eye contact with Makoto. “But she made a point. What would make us better friends: if we kept a secret to the grave while letting him suffer, or tell someone who can help even if it means being some sort of tattletale?”

“But…” she trails off, resolve crumbling. “Dude. It’s going to suck so much.”

“I know.” He pats her head, before moving to Ryuji’s backpack once more. “Don’t worry, I’m willing to take his anger if need be.” Yusuke gestures to the booth. “Everyone, take a seat. It’s about time this finally gets cleared up.”

Smoothing out the envelope in his hand, even more crumpled than when they had it last, he clears his throat, takes one last glance at Futaba to make sure. At her tentative nod, he begins to read its contents in a loud, clear voice.

When he finishes, they sit there, staring at the thick paper in silence.

“Oh my god,” Makoto breathes. “I knew it was bad, but—”

Haru shakes her head. “Not this bad. And he talked about it so much, but we didn’t even…” she glances down at the textbooks, idly rubbing its spine. “I didn’t think much of it.”

“None of us did,” Yusuke says. “But does that make it any better?”

They fall in silence again, but Futaba can hear the answer loud and clear. Hell no.

The door opens forcefully, pulling them out of their stupor.

“What’s up, my beloved friends!” Ann calls, shopping bags in tow. “God, I’m gonna miss Sapporo. Things here are so cheap compared to Tokyo, sheesh!” She sets them down, laughing when nobody says anything. “Jeez, what’s going on? Did I miss something?”

“Ann-chan,” Haru says carefully, all sense of cheer, for intimidation or otherwise, gone. “Take a seat. There’s something you should know.”

—

The Ferris wheel looms over them, blocking out most of the sunset behind it. “Nice,” Ryuji grins appreciatively. “I should’ve seen this one coming.”

“You should’ve,” Akira agrees, tugging him into the open carriage. He goes in willingly. “It was staring at you the whole time we’re in Sapporo. And besides, every romantic movie has a Ferris wheel scene, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yeah? Name one.”

“Death note.”

Ryuji makes a face, and Akira laughs. “Yeah, I know. Bad example.”

It’s a tight squeeze but they sit next to each other, ignoring the bench in front of them. The seats are hot, and even though it’s nearly evening, the heat barely eases up on them. Still, he finds himself pressing himself against Akira. He runs cold, much colder than Ryuji; narrow wrists are ice, prominent collarbones frost.

The two of them lean over the window, pointing out random scenery as if it were the first time they were seeing them. Restaurants, statues. Weird looking cars and flower beds. Decorated high rises and insects that fly by. It’s like they were tourists, or a retired couple who just want to travel the world. He’s never wanted to be old before, but Akira always has a way of making him change his mind.

Like clockwork—Ryuji makes a joke. Akira laughs. His heart feels lighter.

When he finds himself leaning against him, feet up on the bench, Akira wraps his arms around his shoulders unhesitatingly. Ryuji wonders if he can hear the way his heart thuds inside his bones. He wonders if he knows it's for him. The Ferris wheel stops, right at the very top, gently swaying like it were a giant cradle. They’re not very high up, but it’s far enough that he feels like he’s left the entire world behind.

Ryuji presses his lips against those wrists, relishing in the way he can feel the heartbeat increase. “You nervous?”

He can feel his head shake behind him. “I’m happy, I think,” Akira says in a hushed voice, like it was a secret, like it was a sin.

A breeze flows through, and Ryuji closes his eyes when lips press against just below his ear.

Would it be worth it to have a Palace? A Jail? Would it be worth it to lose himself, just to be in this moment for the rest of time?

Carefully, he flips himself sideways, just so he can press more of himself against Akira. The carriage rocks gently, and the metal bench underneath them is sharp and uncomfortable. Arms tighten around him. Chest to back, knee to knee, they couldn’t be closer, but Ryuji leans back, wanting nothing more than to bottle the rhythm of his breathing and the smell of his soap.

I’m happy, too, I think, he wants to say. If we stayed like this for the rest of our lives, until our skin is permanently tattooed into the hot steel and our bones are the only thing they take out of this bench because the rest of us had already rotted, then I’d be pretty damn happy.

Craning his neck backwards, Akira is already staring.

Then he’s kissing him—once, twice, again and again, and Ryuji realizes that something’s different. This wasn’t the kind of kiss he was used to. There was a desperate air to it, an urgent edge from both of them that neither was ready for. Stealing each other’s breath and giving it back; the cycle continues, the clock keeps ticking.

Ryuji pulls himself up, not breaking the kiss, cupping his cheek and soaking him in like a flower to the sun; an endless yearning, like he’d shrivel up and suffocate if it vanished. The sun framed Akira, and for a split second, he feels like he understands what Yusuke sees on a canvas.

When they part, foreheads leaning against each other, Ryuji lifts a trembling hand to wipe the tear that rolled down Akira’s cheek.

“What’s up?” he asks softly. “Is something wrong?”

“I feel like you’re a miracle, Ryuji.”

How do you respond to that? When the person who said it feels like they’re the one who’s magic, who’s too good to be true?

“Fuck miracles,” he says, pulling Akira in again.

—

The circuit felt like it ended too soon, but it’s night when they finally stepped off, holding hands and faces flushed. He hopes the ride operator doesn’t hate them, but he’s in too good of a mood to really complain.

Ryuji stops in his tracks when he sees who’s in front of them.

“Ann?” Akira questions, taken aback. Eyes dark and brows pulled close together, clutching her purse like a weapon of war—she looks like she’d just seen someone set an orphanage on fire.

Her voice is shockingly deep, gaze fixed on Ryuji. “I’m borrowing him for a second.”

Before either of them can say anything, Ann takes him by the bicep, and he can only glance at Akira before he’s dragged back into the Ferris wheel.

“Did you even pay—?”

“Don’t start,” she hisses, pushing him on the bench, hard. “Don’t you dare start, you damn liar.”

His blood runs cold. “What?”

No. That’s impossible.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” She shoves her hand in her bag and throws something rubber at him. “Do you know how long it took me to find a good one here? I spent my entire day in the shopping district—not looking for clothes, or shoes, or whatever the hell I thought would be fun. No, I spent our last day in Sapporo looking for that.”

Ryuji looks down at the hot compress in his hands, a lump in his throat.

“Because you weren’t doing anything to your knee,” she continues, jaw tight. “Despite me trying my best to help you get better. I thought that you must’ve been really fan-freaking-tastic at hiding the pain that you told me about. That I trusted was the truth because you’re one of my best friends and I trust you. I trust you with my life, my secrets—” Ann grits her teeth. “What the hell?”

“How did you find out?” he asks hoarsely.

She knows. If she knows, they could know. If they could know—

“Damn you, it doesn’t matter how I found out!” she throws her hands in the air, voice so hurt that it twists his insides impossibly tighter. “You think I would care? You think that this is important enough to lie to me about? Dammit, I don’t care that you—”

“Don’t say it,” he begs. “Please.”

“I don’t give a single shit that you failed second-year, Sakamoto!”

Her words ring against the steel walls, deafening.

Bile crawls up his esophagus, and he readies himself for another attack. But for some strange reason, his vision doesn’t blur. Instead, anger kicks in like it always does.

“You don’t care?” he asks, incredulous. “This doesn’t even have anything to do with you!”

“It does when you lie to me about it!” she yells back. “Do you not care about me? About your friends who would go to hell and back for you?”

“How dare you—!”

“You lied to me, you hid it from everyone else, you ignored our advice because it doesn’t mean shit to you.” She points a finger at him. “And look where that got you.”

“Shut up.”

“We all noticed, you know! Each and every one of us noticed that something was up, even the literal robot—”

“Shut the hell up, Ann.”

“And for what? All you accomplished was hurt our feelings, hold in yours, and keep it from the love of your life—”

Ryuji stands up, rocking the carriage and nearly toppling Ann off her feet.

“It’s because I fucking hate myself!”

She grips the barred window, eyes wide. They stare each other down for a few long moments, before the ride comes to an abrupt end. The door swings open, allowing a cheery greeting from the oblivious employee.

And then Ann sighs, shoulders deflating. “Come on,” she jerks her head to the door, before stepping out herself. “Let’s go.”

“What?” he asks, puzzled. “Where?”

“If we’re going to delve into the psyche of Sakamoto Ryuji, we might as well do it with some food in front of us.”

—

The cafe Ann takes him to is bright, filled with pastries and crowded with people—stools are pastel blue, baristas are wearing cute bowties, and each cup of coffee comes with an alarming amount of whipped cream on top. Sojiro would have a heart attack if he walked three kilometers of this place, but Ryuji’s glad that the resemblance is far and away than that of Leblanc.

The booth is pressed into the corner of it all; up against the window and far enough from the main bustle that they’d have to really put their all into it if they wanted to take their order. On one side sat Futaba, nervously tracing shapes on the window while Haru sits beside her. The opposite end has Yusuke and Makoto.

They all look up when they hear the bell chime, and Ryuji almost laughs. “It’s been a long ass time since I’ve seen you guys look so serious,” he remarks, sliding next to Makoto while Ann sits next to Haru. “Where’s the food at? Come on guys, food’s good for you.”

He raises a hand. “Excuse me! We’re ready!”

“Ryuji,” Futaba’s voice is brittle. “I—”

“Hold on shorty,” he reaches to pat her head, voice coming out soft. “We’ll get to that. I promise.”

A waiter comes, takes their drink order, and leaves. When he does, Yusuke places a heavy hand on the table. “I was the one who told everyone.”

“That’s not true!” Futaba cries out, and everyone jerks back in shock. “That’s bull! I’m the one who told him to go through your stuff ‘cause he was worried about you, but I’m the one who actually—”

“No, I’m the one at fault here,” Haru casts her gaze downwards. “It was really none of my business, but I forced these two to tell everyone here. I’m so sorry—”

Ryuji sighs. “Guys, it’s fine.” He’s met with an incredulous look. “Okay, it isn’t, but none of this is your fault, you know? I’m not mad.” His gaze shifts to Ann. “But you’re allowed to be mad at me. I know I shouldn’t have hidden it.”

She gives him a weighted look. “Then why did you do it?”

“Ann,” Makoto warns.

“No, I’m not budging on this.” She leans forward. “He lied to me. Lying doesn’t get you anywhere good. That was really stupid of you.”

“Ann!” Futaba cuts in, horrified.

“You’ve seen what happened with Shiho.” Ryuji flinches back like he’s been hit. He knows. Ann knows he knows. But she keeps going anyway. “She lied to me about what was happening, and I lied to her back. It kept going and going, and—” she snaps her fingers. “She’s gone from my life. For how long? I don’t know, maybe until we graduate. Maybe until her rehab ends. Maybe longer. Who knows? All I know is if we had just—talked, or—” Ann shakes her head, frustrated. “From the start. Tell us what happened. And afterwards, let us help you, or I swear to god I’m going to cry, and I know you can’t stand it when people cry.”

The silence is deafening, even with the clamor of people and voices around them.

Ryuji lets out a breath. “Yeah, alright.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You will?”

“I will,” he repeats, idly checking his pulse. Heart rate is a little quick, but in no danger of having another breakdown. “I’ll tell you everything.”

The waiter chooses that time to drop off their drinks; all cold except Haru, nursing a hot cup of tea. They definitely didn’t buy enough to justify the god-knows-how-long they’re going to spend here, but they’re just gonna have to suck it up.

“Alright,” he starts when they’re alone again. “We going from the start?”

“The very beginning,” Ann confirms.

With one last glance at his friends, he sighs, sits up straight, and flashes them the biggest grin he can muster:

“Hi,” he greets. “I’m Sakamoto Ryuji, and I failed my second-year of high school.”

No one’s expression shifts, not even an inch. He can’t help but be a little impressed. “You guys know that I’ve never been the greatest with books. Shit, screw greatest—I’ve ranked bottom five ever since I started middle school. Didn’t help that my leg got fucked to high heaven and everyone started hating me. Nearly dropped out a couple times. Had no one, really. Worst time in my life, hands down.

“So imagine this dumb little kid, middle of April, running into this guy.” Without meaning to, the grin shifts into something more genuine. “Good-looking dude, super smart, real charmer but you wouldn’t be able to tell just by lookin’ at him. And that guy saved my life. Ten, twenty, thirty times over. He was so great that the dumb kid obviously fell in love with him. But what’s even crazier is that the guy fell in love with the dumb little kid, too.

“Crazy, right? Sounds made up, but I promise it’s true.” He catches Futaba’s expression shift to exasperation. “I know, I can’t believe it either.”

“That’s not what I meant, you sap,” she says.

“Yeah, but that dumb little kid,” he explains. “Couldn’t believe it. Literally couldn’t believe it. Thinks that he struck the lottery, struck by damn lightning. I mean—” Ryuji laughs a little. “How can someone so amazing and cool be in love with such a moron? What made it worse…”

He gestures at all of them. “Was that the guy had so many people in his life who was also amazing. His social circle was made up of, and correct me if I’m wrong: a successful journalist, a politician, some dude from the mob, a random child who breaks gaming records on the daily, and I’m not even counting people from this goddamn table. So dumb little kid knows, he fucking knows that somehow, someway, he tricked the cool guy into falling in love with him. The kid sucked, no, sucks,” he corrects. “At everything. Can’t do anything worthwhile.”

“Ryuji…” Haru whispers.

“Almost done, I know it’s running on kinda long,” he promises. “So the dumb little kid became kinda obsessed with the group’s ‘activities’, and it’s obvious why he would, right? If he knows he’s not good enough for the guy he’s in love with, then he can at least try to be. But since he already sucked at school to begin with, dummy over here completely bailed on school and ended up flunking so bad that he failed an entire year.”

An entire year. An entire year.

It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe, but he’d rather get hit by a truck than lose it in front of so many people. Gritting his teeth, he does what he knows is bad, what every google search and YouTube video says you should not do—he pushes his feelings, far and hard away from himself, so far that it’s like it doesn’t even exist.

It works surprisingly well.

“And, uh—” Ryuji clears his throat. “He hid it. Because you know the one, single thing that’s worse than realizing you’re not good enough for the other person?”

No one answers. “Waiting for the day that they realize that you’re not good enough for them.”

“And that’s pretty much the bulk of it.” Reaching for his mug, he takes a sip of his lukewarm lemonade. Damn, he really did talk for a while. “I didn’t want to tell the rest of you because one, it’s really fucking embarrassing that I failed, and two—”

“Akira can’t know,” they all say in unison.

“Exactly, you guys get the point by now.” He drums his fingers against the table, trying to ignore the blatant gloom cast on all of their faces. “Question time starts now, if anyone wants to ask anything.”

Makoto opens her mouth, but he beats her to it. “If anyone even thinks about feeling pity, or be all ‘no, you’re smart actually!’, I am walking out of this cafe and I am not looking back.”

“What about summer school?” Makoto asks immediately. “If you didn’t want us to know, then you could’ve taken that without even telling us.”

“Summer school was never an option.”

“And why not?” she slaps her hand against the table. “It would’ve solved this entire situation!”

“Because Akira was coming home for the summer,” he says simply. “And I wanted to enjoy my time with him without this hanging over my head.”

Her jaw drops open. “But...that’s…”

“Stupid?” he offers. “Idiotic? Really dumb? Potentially throwing away my entire future? Yeah, I gotcha. Another part of it was that the thought of staying at Shujin for another minute makes me want to jump into traffic, if that helps make me look a little better in your mind, miss prez.”

Makoto’s expression of confusion freezes, taken aback by the harshness of his words. Ryuji cringes at himself. “Sorry.”

“No,” she says finally. “The fault is mine. I have no right to judge your actions, or to pretend I know what kind of stress is burdening you.” Hesitating, she asks, “May I request another question?”

“Shoot.”

“What were you going to do when we eventually go back to Tokyo?”

As expected of someone who went head-to-head against the ace detective in front of the entire school; her questions are brutal. “I don’t know, honestly. I was planning on ignoring the problem for now and just sort of,” he gestures vaguely. “Enjoy the summertime sun?”

“A moment,” Haru goes through her bag. “It’s a long story, but I have these—”

The second the books peek out of her tote, he recognizes the cover immediately. “Cram books? You bought some?”

“Yes!” she answers, mistaking his reaction for eagerness. “It’s a very small gesture, but I’d love for you to have them.”

“I—” he leans away from them, breath catching in his throat. “No.”

“No?” she blinks.

“Not now, senpai.” Trying out his new trick again, he forces his heart to slow down, forces his breathing to regulate again without any of the techniques, and forces himself not to feel any of the fear that he’d normally have to go through. It works, but barely. “I’m not—I don’t think I’m ready to deal with that yet.”

“That’s fine.” Haru puts them away, and as hard as he tries, he can still see how dejected she was. “I’ll hold on to them for you.”

“Thank you.” He glances around. “Any last takers? Q&A is almost up.”

“I have one,” Yusuke pipes up.

“Go for it.”

“How are you?” he asks genuinely.

Ryuji can’t help it—a laugh gets pulled out of him. “How am I?” he repeats.

“Yes. How are you?”

“Uh,” he laughs again. “Not good, man. Not good.”

Everyone startles when Ryuji stands abruptly. He slams down the rest of his lemonade, relieved at how it helps his parched throat. “Alrighty, that took a lot out of me! Let’s get out of here, I’m sick of being surrounded by fake coffee and poser cafe fanatics.”

“I’ll take care of the bill,” Haru says, following his lead and scooting out from the booth.

“What? No, come on. I don’t care how rich you are, at least let me pay half.”

“Ryuji.” She looks him dead in the eye. “I’ll take care of the bill.”

“...Yes ma’am.”

Slowly, they all start filing out, some exiting the cafe while Makoto goes to the till with Haru. Ryuji reaches for Ann’s elbow before she can leave. “Hey.”

Turning her head, it’s as if her lips were permanently stitched downwards. “Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry I lied to you,” he says, somber. “That was shitty, and it doesn’t matter what I’m going through—you can’t deal with lies. I get that. I won’t put you through that again.”

Ann kisses her palm before slapping it against his forehead. “You better not,” her voice drips in affection. “You said not to console you—”

“I did, and I meant it.”

“But I’m here for you,” she rubs his skin harder, and he winces at the chafing. “You know that, right? No matter how crazy the shit inside your head gets, I want you to talk to me.”

“I know it,” he says, not just because he wants the friction to ease up. “I know it now, for sure.”

“Good.” Ann releases him, and goes to join Haru and Makoto up front. “You might want to head out. Someone’s starting to make a fuss.”

“What?” he turns around, making direct eye contact with Futaba, nursing a blank expression on her face. “I see.”

The bell chimes once more when he steps out, relieved at the cool summer air that hits him. “Shorty,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “What’s good?”

“Here.” Ryuji glances down at her, who’s holding a familiar, now very-crumpled envelope between her fingers. It’s weird seeing her hold the letter announcing his failure like a bomb, but he understands the sentiment. “I had to show Ann because she wouldn’t believe me until I got some proof.”

“Thank you,” he says, shoving it in his pocket. “I’m not mad at you, you know.”

“I know you’re not.” She swallows and stares down at her shoes. Her laces were covered in little beads and stars, something he had bought for her during a weekend hangout once. “This isn’t me pitying you, or showering you with some kind of boohoo potion.”

She swallows again. “I failed my first year of high school. It was for a completely different reason—guilt for who I thought I killed rather than wanting to be something else. But I know. I know so much about what you’re going through.”

Futaba looks up, and his heart wrenches when he sees the tears in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry if I made you sad, or that I kept calling you stupid back then,” she sobs. “I don’t mean it, and I’m so mean to you all of the time but I don’t mean any of it. I told everyone your secret because I wanted to—” she hiccups, and she pushes her glasses to the top of her head. “I wanted to give you your own version of what the Phantom Thieves did for me, but I reached out to you guys back then. No one forced me to do anything, but I took that choice away from you.”

He pulls her in his arms, and her tears are hot even through his shirt. “I know, Futaba,” he says, patting her head. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

She hits his chest weakly. “Me taking care of you?” she sniffs. “I’m literally the one crying right now.”

“Just for now though,” he shrugs. “Next time I cry, you’ll be the one handing me tissues, I swear.”

They stand there, the two of them standing in the middle of Sapporo while people give them weird looks—Futaba, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks, and Ryuji, refusing to ever let his emotions make things worse for everyone else again.

—

When they get back to the RV, each of them emotionally exhausted, Ryuji goes to kiss the top of Akira’s head. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Akira looks up from his card game with Morgana and Sophia. “You look like you had a wild night. Ann take you all somewhere fun?”

“Totally,” he says, sliding the letter back in his backpack. “Best night ever.”

“Take me next time. Sophia’s kicking our ass.”

“She is not!” Morgana denies, tail swishing. “Just a little,” he relents.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” Ryuji announces, hiking his backpack on his shoulders and heading out, before running into Ann outside.

“Oh my god,” she says, disturbed. “He really, really doesn’t know.”

“Yup,” he moves past her. “And we’re keeping it that way.”

[thewhumperinwhite]

And Then You Kill Me, Part 1

hey, it’s been a hot minute, huh?

been sorta Going Through It, so uh... Vampire Time, featuring Art and Karim from FBI AU. (Though, for the record: this is their original incarnation, hence why fbi au is Called That.)

I’m gonna tag @whumpitywhumpwhump and also @sweetheartblue bc Karim is... her oc once removed, basically, so if you like this, Thank Sweetheart

Blanket Warning For This Story: this story heavily features suicide, including multiple suicide attempts.

TW for: attempted suicide; mentioned/”threatened” murder; slight foot whump; implied vampirism; referenced parental abuse; referenced captivity; prescription drug abuse; drowning mention.

----

Art doesn’t know how far he runs, or for how long, but by the time he stops the air smells like salt water, and also his feet feel like they’re filled with glass.

He hasn’t been out of his room for a full month. Or his father’s house for longer than that. There’s a sharp ache in the center of each of his calves, and muscles jumping in his thighs; he hasn’t used his legs for much of anything in weeks. He hasn’t even paced back and forth within the confines of his room like he did at first. Didn’t even stay on his feet for the entirety of his last few too-long showers.

The maid who let him out is new, at least to his wing of the house. She’s been bringing his meals for three weeks at the most, and collecting the trays after he refuses to eat it with increasingly visible discomfort.

She’s the only member of staff who broke his father’s injunction that no one should speak to him; said “You must eat something” in a soft, accented voice, looking around furtively.

He wasn’t been sure his father had actually given specific orders—thought maybe they all just hated him, or had decided among themselves that he was too much trouble to bother with—but this new girl was so clearly afraid of being caught, just speaking one sentence to him, that he knew his father must have said their jobs were on the line. For a little while he wondered why his father would bother. And then he felt stupid, for still wanting the old man to need a reason for things.

The new maid’s name is Noa. It took her a week to talk to him, and two more after before she felt brave or sympathetic enough to sneak him out.

Which means she probably didn’t know that this was always what he was going to do, the second he was out. Last time he didn’t do it fast enough, and the cops found him before he had the chance; this time he isn’t taking any chances.

Noa might feel guilty when they find his body. He thought about leaving a note—to tell her thanks, and that it wasn’t her fault—but he didn’t want to risk getting her in trouble, if she somehow managed to help him without getting caught.

Anyway, she hasn’t known him very long at all. She’ll get over it before too long.

He hasn’t been to this part of the city before. In fact he’s not sure what part of the city this is; he’s been running through a thick mental fog since he first left his father’s manicured lawn. He makes himself really look, now, blinking in the dim yellow light of the streetlamps.

He’s made it to the edge of the city, near where the river that runs through the center meets the ocean. It’s hard to believe this is the same river where his mother sips martinis and watches races between indistinguishable blinding-white boats (largely captained by indistinguishable blinding-white men, though Art doesn’t have much room to talk on that score, obviously).

Art steps out onto the dock. The wood is damp and rough, ice-cold on his bare feet, but it’s solid, and not very slippery. There’s an old railing along the edge, and he leans against it, wrapping already-numb fingers around the rough metal. The river’s wider here, the city lights on the other side further away than he’s used to. This must be where it starts to open out, stops being the river and starts being the bay.

The railing’s sturdy, but only as high as his waist. It’d be easy to climb over. The water must be freezing, maybe even cold enough to kill him on its own, before he has time to drown.

But he doesn’t know what the tides are like, here. His corpse might wash right out to sea, and then what will have been the point of any of this?

Art pries one hand off the railing—it’s already stiff with cold, and it takes more effort than it should—and puts it in his pocket, wraps his stinging pins-and-needles fingers around the reassuring shape of the pill bottle.

Art closes his eyes, and breathes in. The water smells worse, here—like industrial waste, mainly, with a hint of rotting seaweed. But it doesn’t smell like too-fancy cologne, or any of his mother’s preferred cocktails.

Art figures there are worse places to die.

He’s turning his head, looking around to see if there’s any place to sit or if he should just sit on the ground and lean against the railing—and then he spins wildly on his heel, stumbling back against the railing, his heart stuttering in his chest.

There’s a man standing at the edge of the dock, under the nearest streetlight, watching him.

The man is wearing a full suit, and Art can tell immediately that it’s been professionally tailored and that it’s at least partly silk and for a moment that’s all he can see—neatly pressed trousers and shiny black shoes, with patterns on the soles that leave bruises anyone could recognize if they wanted to, if they looked at Art’s face and throat and hands for even a second—

“—to startle you,” the man is saying, in a blessedly unfamiliar voice, and Art shakes his head, hard, to force his eyes back into focus.

The man is holding his hands up in surrender and looking slightly alarmed, presumably worried that Art is about to swoon at his feet. There’s a red silk ribbon hanging untied around the collar of the man’s shirt, and Art’s father only wears plain black ties.

The adrenaline runs out of Art’s veins in a rush, and this time his knees actually do give out on him, and he slithers down against the railing until he’s sitting on the damp wood, which is very cold through the thin fabric of his jeans.

The man blinks at him. He has big, long-lashed eyes, over-bright against his light-brown skin. His hair is bleach-blonde, glowing white-gold under the streetlamp; it’s mostly slicked back, with a few curls flopping loose over sculpted black eyebrows.

He isn’t standing on the docks themselves, but his suit—now that Art can really see, it’s pretty ostentatious, satin-shiny in the yellow glow, not something his father would wear at all—looks very out of place above the dirty concrete sidewalk, between two dingy, abandoned-looking buildings.

“You’re wearing a suit,” Art says, before he knows he’s going to say anything.

The man blinks his glow-in-the-dark eyes at him. His lashes are so long they cast visible shadows on his cheeks. He looks at Art, and then down at the suit; touches his own lapel gently with black-gloved fingers, like he’s just remembering that it’s there.

Then the man looks back up at Art, and says, “It’s Boglioli,” in a surprised sort of voice, like it’s a conditioned response.

“Ugh,” Art says, with perfect sincerity.

The man laughs, his full lips parting in a startled grin, and—

There’s something wrong with his teeth.

Art is still on the ground. There’s no sound except the river, behind him, water lapping quietly against wood. Art hasn’t slept properly in days. He’s prepared to believe he imagined it, except.

Except that the smile immediately drops off the man’s face, and his gloved hand twitches up as though in an aborted attempt to reach up and cover his mouth.

Art stares.

It was only for a second. But the man’s eyeteeth were too long, surely, poked down over his bottom lip, like they barely fit in his pretty red mouth.

Art’s ears are ringing. He feels cold, and then too warm.

The man takes a half-step back, his eyes not leaving Art’s face.

Art doesn’t move. He’s been out here in the cold for—an hour. Most of him is freezing, is almost painfully cold, but suddenly there’s heat in his cheeks and his ribcage and the palm of his hands.

He’s feeling something too big to identify. It doesn’t feel like fear.

The man is watching his face very closely.

“What’s your name?” he asks, finally. His voice is low and velvet-soft.

That does sent fear up into Art’s stomach like a knife. He shakes his head once, sharply, reaching up for the railing, ready to haul himself to his feet.

The man holds his gloved hands up again, in surrender. This time when he smiles he keeps his lips firmly together.

“No, alright, my mistake,” he says, smirking. It’s much worse than the grin; more controlled, less real. Art liked the grin better.

He liked the man’s smile better with teeth.

“I just, uh,” the man says, and he gestures toward Art’s feet, folded awkwardly underneath him. “That wood’s so dirty. Your cuts’ll get infected.”

Art’s feet do hurt. He’s run half the city with no shoes, they must be cut to shit. But he hasn’t left a trail of bloody footprints, or anything. Maybe the man can see that his feet are bare, but surely not more than that, not from where he’s standing.

When he leans over, a little, to see if his foot is a horrible bloody mess and he’s just missed it somehow, Art wobbles, and takes his hand out of his pocket to steady himself.

The bottle of pills clatters out of his pocket.

Art’s heart clenches painfully in his chest, and his head swims, and the bottle rolls easily across the wooden planks in front of him. The man takes one step forward, and it taps casually into the toe of his shiny black shoe.

The man picks the bottle up, frowning down at the label.

Art stumbles forward, onto his knees. “Give that back.”

“What is it?” the man says, voice nothing but curious. He’s reading the label. Art wants to tackle him and rip it out of his hands.

“It’s mine,” he says, and now he’s almost yelling. “Give it back!”

The man takes a step back, startled. “Huh,” he says, blinking down at Art, who is now kneeling practically at his feet. Art has no idea what kind of face he’s making.

“Really,” the man says slowly, and makes a show of squinting back down at the label. “This says… Honoria Lange, is what it says.” He raises a perfectly-sculpted brow at Art. “That’s you, is it?”

Art wants to rip this guy’s head off. “Maybe it is,” he says savagely, and reaches for the man’s hand; the man laughs and dances easily out of the way. “Give me my fucking pills back—"

“Oh, relax,” the man says, smirking again. “Seriously, what are you so desperate to—” He trails off, frowning down at the bottle. “…Huh.”

The man looks down at Art, thoughtfully.

“These are—what, sleeping pills,” he says slowly, and tips his head, like a curious dog.

Art’s stomach clenches painfully.

“Hey,” the man says. “Are you—”

Art throws himself to his feet.

This isn’t as good, Art thinks, while he swings his foot onto the lowest bar of the metal railing; they might not find his body for weeks, might not find it at all, he might die for nothing, but he won’t go back, he won’t go back to his father’s—

“Hey—Don’t!” the man yells, and he grabs Art by the hood of his sweatshirt, and yanks him backwards, off the railing.

Art gasps in a painful panicked breath and kicks out at the man with his bare, bleeding feet, aiming straight for the testicles; the man moves easily out of the way, not letting go of Art’s hoodie; Art overbalances and falls backward, just catching himself my scraping his hand bloody on the concrete at the bottom of the railing.

“Shit,” the man says, reaching for Art, and Art flails at him, wants to push him away, or to scratch out his shiny glass-marble eyes, or—

The man catches Art’s wrist easily. He’s leaning over Art, now, with one arm braced beside him, and holding Art’s arm; Art’s hand, his wrist in the man’s glove fist, is very close to the man’s face.

The heel of Art’s hand is cut open; a drop of blood trails down over his pulse point, and disappears into the fabric of the man’s glove.

The man’s pupils visibly dilate. When his lips part, his fangs are even more visible than before, like they barely fit inside his mouth.

Art feels his own lips part in response. Feels his fear—he’ll stop me he’ll call the police he’ll drag me back please no please please I’ll do anything—shift, pool lower in his belly.

The man is watching Art’s face—their faces are very close together now. He looks Art in the eye and—parts his lips slightly, so there can be no mistaking what they both know Art sees. Then he wets his lips, delicately, with an almost obscenely red tongue.

“Hey,” the man says, and his voice has gone slightly hoarse.

“No,” Art says—and his voice is hoarse, too, an embarrassing croak. His face is hot; he knows it must be red, now. “I don’t want it. Whatever you’re offering, I don’t—uh—”

Art tries to pull his arm back, as hard as he can. The man’s grip doesn’t budge a single inch. Like he could—like he could snap Art’s wrist, just by tightening his fist. Art swallows, his heart fluttering in his chest. His ribcage feels too tight. And now his pants are starting to feel that way, too.

The man studies Art’s face, very seriously. “I think,” he says, and his voice is softer, almost hesitant.

“I think,” the man says, watching closely for Art’s reaction, “that I am offering to kill you.”

[taetaespeaches]

“I don’t know where we go from here, Dear.”

jimin x reader (or oc) genre: fluff; angst word count: 1.8K

a/n: the time has come... JIMIN IS GETTING HIS GIRL BACK!!! This is the first time they see each other after he shows up at Dear’s place in, “Yeah, I’m drunk. And you’re wearing my t-shirt and I fucking love you.” So yeah, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!!! 

p.s. This is sorta kinda inspired by “Until the Sun Comes Up” by Gabrielle Aplin. So yeah, do with that what you will. 

YOUR hand was nearly shaking as you adjusted your seatbelt across your body. The last time you saw Jimin was a week ago when he came to apartment looking for a way to go back in time. When he asked to see you, you expected a simple dinner date or a walk along the Han River, but you had been sitting in the car for over thirty minutes now and the city was beginning to disappear behind you.

“I haven’t been this nervous since our first date,” Jimin admitted shyly, you looking across the cab at him. “Or that whole time between, you know, our first time and first date.”

You couldn’t help the grin that formed on your lips at his admission as well as the memory of how shy he was for those two days between the first hook up and first date. You were both nervous, but he was more obviously so. At least for a little while.

You went from friends to lovers overnight. It was hard to even remember what you and Jimin looked like before the extra label was added to your relationship. It was even harder to comprehend what you looked like now.

“I was nervous too,” you told him, Jimin taking a quick glance from the road to you, obviously surprised. “And now.”  

“Really?”

“Of course,” you smiled. “I just hide it better.” You hid a lot of things better. Your love and your heartbreak for starters.

A tense quiet settled inside the car, the low hum of Jimin’s music buzzing throughout the cab. You let the silence persist as you turned your attention to the window as Jimin drove you both to an unknown destination.

It was a little over a month ago that Jimin broke up with you over a text. It was so unlike Jimin it scared you into action before you could even take in the purpose of the text. You desperately called him but every effort went to voicemail. After a text to Taehyung to have him check on your boyfriend, and Tae assuring you he was ok considering the circumstance, you got angry. And you refused to speak to the man until he showed up at your apartment drunk, sad, regretful, and desperate.

For weeks you wanted to blame him for the whole thing. But you knew you were to blame as well. You had been pushing him away for months before the breakup, letting your own personal struggles affect your relationship. You didn’t want to push him away, but how do you simply let another person into the fucked up hell space that is your mind? You had never before wanted a person so badly during those months as you wanted Jimin, but it was like you couldn’t, or wouldn’t, allow yourself to reach out for him. And that made him feel very insecure and unsure. He felt unloved.

As Jimin drove further and further from Seoul, completely losing the city skyline, you turned to him in confusion.

“Where are we going?” You asked, turning to look at him.

“Away,” he grinned cheekily.

You let a small chuckle slip as you looked at the road ahead of you. “Away where?”

“Away from ourselves.”

You looked back at him in response to his words. You scrutinized his face as he stared ahead, eyes focused on the road but his mind wandering through a million loud thoughts. “There you are being a poet again,” you teased, Jimin’s lips quirking into an amused smile.

You slowly looked away from him, staring ahead, waiting to see the final destination for your date or whatever it’s called when your ex-boyfriend/best friend takes you out of the city in his bid to win you back.

Several minutes passed in silence before Jimin called to you gently, “Dear?”

You hummed, looking over at him, the pet name sounding so natural coming from him.

“Do you think people have to be ok before they can give themselves to someone else?”

The question should have taken you by surprise but you knew Jimin well enough to know he often had these deeply personal and sometimes troublesome questions swimming around his mind.

You thought for a moment before shaking your head. “No,” you started, Jimin looking from the road just for a small moment to peer at your face. “I’ve started thinking lately that if you’re lucky enough to have someone and its real, you have to give yourself to them even if you’re not ok.”

He forced a small smile though his eyes became glassy in the dashboard light. “I’m not ok.”

You nodded in understanding, keeping your gaze on him as his face became less clear through the tears that gathered along your lower eyelid. “Yeah, me too.” He looked over at you to see you beginning to cry and his face scrunched up as his own tears increased. “Jimin,” you whimpered.

When he sniffled you reached out to touch his forearm. “I fucked up, I kept pushing you away—”

He adamantly shook his head, telling you, “no, no, this is on me—”

“No, you needed me. And Jimin, I needed you, fuck, I wanted you, I just couldn’t—”

When a sob wracked through your body into the otherwise quiet car, Jimin quickly pulled over to the side of the road as an oncoming car sped by you.

“Dear,” he started, turning to you and pulling your hands from your face where you were wiping tears, simply holding them. “I broke up with you over a text.” He didn’t say anything more, letting his words sink in as proof to why the whole situation was his fault. You both knew he wasn’t the only one to blame, but at this point, did it even matter?

“Why did you send the text?” You asked him through your tears.

“I don’t—I don’t even know, baby, it’s—I get so insecure sometimes and I was driving myself insane on tour thinking about you and whether you love me and I just—I get so scared sometimes that you’ll just walk away.”

“I could never just walk away,” you told him defensively, but also to assure him. “I hate that I made you feel so insecure and unloved because I just love you more than anything and I should have been pouring all of that love into you.” Tears fell down Jimin’s face at your words as his hands squeezed yours tighter. “It’s going to take a while for me to forgive myself for that. A lot longer than it’s gonna take for me to forgive you.”

“Can you forgive me?” He posed, looking into your glistening eyes with his own.

“You know I can,” you whispered. “But can you forgive me?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his eyes scanned your face. Then he brought your hand to his lips and feathered kisses to your knuckles. “I already have,” he mumbled against your hand.

Fresh tears burst from your eyes at his confession, Jimin gently placing your hands on the console just before they met your face, gently wiping your cheeks with his palms. You leaned into his touch, bringing your hands to grab his wrists.

“I don’t know where we go from here, Dear,” he softly admitted. “But you were my best friend before all the extra and I’m not giving up on us.” He paused for a moment, both of you watching each other carefully. “Even if you want to go back to just friends.”

You scoffed at the statement, Jimin pulling his eyebrows together in confusion to the sound. “Chim, we were never just friends. I don’t want to go back, I want to fix this.”

Jimin let a small smile greet his lips, the sight making you return a small one of your own. You leaned forward, dropping your head to his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your upper back, his hand finding your tricep. His palm and fingers soothed over the muscle as he told you, “We should probably get back on the road, we still have like an hour until we get there.”

“Jesus, did Taehyung show you some spot out here or something?” You asked, though you didn’t dare lift your head to look at him, afraid of losing his touch.

Jimin giggled. “Yeah, he did actually.” You fell into laughter, Jimin laughing with you as he shifted his position, his hand finding your chin and directing you to sit up and look at him.

“I don’t want to drive anymore, I just want to be here with you,” you told him and his thumb gently ran along your jaw. “Wherever we are right now, I just want to exist here with you and lose ourselves or whatever you said earlier in your poetry recital.”  

He flashed you a stunning smile and nodded. “Ok, but,” he started, craning his body to reach for something in the backseat, “do you still,” he sat back in his seat holding a couple of long thin plastic packages up for you to see, “want to play with these?”

You reached for the packages in realization. “Oh my god,” you giggled, inspecting the sparklers. “Of course I do.”

Within a matter of seconds, you and Jimin were out in the cool air as Jimin used a lighter to ignite the ends of your sparklers. As they fizzled with sparks, you both backed away and began waving them around.

You were spinning and laughing as Jimin giggled and drew shapes. Several cars drove past but neither of you took notice. He gave several attempts to spell your name before the sparks faded out, but he could never complete the word in time, letting out yells of playful frustration.

It felt like a dream, and he was burning so brightly in the night air, carefree for the first time in months. He was beautiful.  

By the time the sparklers burned out, you were both breathless, standing a few feet from one another, staring at each other. He walked toward you and when he was close enough, you gripped the material of his shirt and pulled him to you. Wrapping your arms around his waist, his secured themselves around the back of your head.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, but it was the closest you felt to him in months, and him you, and neither of you wanted to let go of that. Only time would tell how long it would take for things to feel normal, or whether normal was even a possibility. Maybe a new normal was in the making.

All you were certain of was you were willing to travel through the unknown, as long as he was by your side. And you weren’t letting go of the night. Not until the sun came up.

[noonachronicles]

The Malebranche Pt. 1

Im Changkyun/I.M. X Reader & Lee Jooheon X Reader

Word count: 9.4k

Warnings: There is cursing. It’s a story about demons so...probably a little dark in theme. This is demon smut. I’m not being flippant or dramatic. It’s literally smut with demons. This is 18+. I’m not your mom and I’m not the fan fiction police. So just don’t have unprotected sex and don’t fuck demons. There’s also some edging. 

Genre: Demon AU. Modern Fantasy. Sorta Soulmate AU

A/N: This is for @nemesyis​. You probably just wanted some porn without plot but if you haven’t noticed... I’m incapable. Here is some porn with a light sprinkling of plot for flavor instead. 

‘The Path to Paradise Begins in Hell’ - Dante Alighieri

The Eighth Circle was a beautiful burlesque club. It was expected by many to be a front for a brothel or a drug ring but there had never been any proof of it even after several raids and countless undercover investigations. Everyone just assumed that something illegal was happening there, and no one could blame them. It was a cesspool of sin and debauchery.

The club was located just outside of the city in a three story Victorian style mansion. The inside had been completely gutted and renovated by the owners but the outside stayed essentially the same. Only a new layer of paint had been applied. Wine red paneling, black trim, and gold accents. Gothic Barbies dream house.

Inside there was a large foyer with blood red carpets and gold walls. The ceiling was covered in a renaissance style painting. Though the art was not light and angelic like one might have expected. It was dark. It demons and sin. It was the inferno. Beautifully done, but terrifying if you looked too long or too closely. The foyer broke away into three different theatre style rooms. The Red Room, The Purple Room, and The White Room.

The Red Room was the most popular room, it was the most sinful of the three. Named appropriately for it’s color scheme. Red furniture, red floor, red walls, red velvet panels draped overhead. The only things that weren’t red were the crystal chandeliers. Those were consistent through every room in the house. The Red Room experience stood in the center of the four corners. Night club, burlesque club, strip club, and sex club. Consent was the only rule in The Red Room.

The Purple Room offered a slightly more cabaret atmosphere. Mostly purple everything with silver accents here and there. The performances were rambunctious and inclusive. Despite the dark aesthetic it was a classic good time. Usually The Purple Room housed bachelorette parties and birthdays. Large groups of women just looking for a memorable night out.

The White Room, the third of the triplets, was mostly white with accents of gold. It was the most elegant room The Eighth Circle had to offer. Sheer white fabrics hung from the ceiling along with gold and crystal chandeliers. The floor was a bright white marble laced with rivers of gold striping. The couches and chairs were white velvet cushions on gold framing. Women, scantily clad in white lingerie, carried gold trays filled with champagne in crystal stemware. The White Room was mostly for politicians and businessmen that would bring in out-of-towners to impress and seduce them into working with them. Occasionally vanilla couples would partake in The White Room as well if they were trying to spice up a fading love life. Typically if it worked the couples could be found in The Red Room within a week.

The owners of The Eighth Circle were the Malebranche Brothers. Sometimes they were referred to as the Malebranche Twins. Though you’d seen them before in town and couldn’t imagine they were at all related. Most people, however, just called them the Demon Twins.

You would have normally suspected that particular nickname had to do with all of the references to Dante's Inferno that surrounded them whether intentionally or unintentionally. You found it much more likely that the people thought the brothers had a hint of evil in them and less likely that they would have picked up on the literary references. It wasn’t that you thought everyone in town was an illiterate moron. You’d lived in this town your whole life. You knew that everyone in town was an illiterate moron.

The brothers, if that’s even what they were, were young. In appearance they seemed about your age but there was something about their mannerisms that made them seem much older. It’s part of what attracted you to them. They were unlike every other bachelor in this town. It was like they were from somewhere else entirely. A bigger city was your only guess. They had a sense of class and elegance that made them entirely desirable. Unfortunately they weren’t only desirable to you. Every woman and several of the men in town flung themselves desperately at the pair every chance they got. So while you continued to fantasize about them, you knew that’s what they would remain, a fantasy.

From what you knew of them Jooheon was the older of the two brothers but not by much. He was known for his unbelievably plush lips and unmistakable dimples. His hair color usually changed with the seasons but you always thought he looked best with a darker tone. He was also said to be the kinder of the two. He had a pleasantness that his brother seemed to lack, which was probably why he was the one known to take care of the business side of The Eighth Circle.

His brother was Changkyun. He’d been nicknamed the Evil Twin by the people in town. Mostly due to the stern, unimpressed look of his lips when his face was resting. On occasion you’d seen him out to lunch or in a shop with his brother and thought he’d seemed quite playful and even childish. He didn’t scare you too much.

Though you knew Jooheon was meant to be the kinder of the two brothers you would never forget the first time you’d seen them. You were shopping in the city. Jooheon had just stepped out of the car and was headed into a restaurant when he’d turned in your direction, looking just over his shoulder, and his eyes met yours. It was terrifying, just the way it felt, like in that instant he was inside of you.

It was as if he knew every one of your thoughts, every desire. There was just something about him. Lust incarnate with the way your attraction to him tugged at you like there was rope around your waist whenever he was nearby and he held the opposite end firmly in his grasp.    

In that sense you felt lucky that they were a deviant desire and nothing more. Certainly you wouldn’t be able to handle either one of them.

-

Changkyun stood on the third floor balcony that overlooked The Red Room. He was leaning over the banister, soaking in the immoral energies of the night's patrons. A wicked grin grew across his lips as he watched hands grasping flesh. Lips on lips. Very little attention made to who was partaking in who. He loved his work.

“Honey.” he said as his brother moved behind him, not bothering to turn his attention from the activities below.

“Kyun.” Jooheon said leaning against the bannister beside him.

“How are things running?”

“Smooth as ever. Smoother even. Busy for a Wednesday.” Jooheon shrugged, sipping from his glass of bourbon.

“Lucky for us, brother, sin never takes a day off.” Changkyun laughed and snatched the liquor from his brother's hand to take a drink.

Jooheon grew silent, closing his eyes. Changkyun looked over just as they snapped back open to show pitch black orbs. He inhaled deeply, his hand gripping the wooden banister so tightly his knuckles grew white with strain. When he exhaled his eyes lightened to their normal brown.

“She’s here.” he gulped.

Changkyun’s eyebrow perked with mild interest, “Your little townie girlfriend?”

“Don’t be an asshole.” Jooheon glared.

“Where is she? No! Wait!” he chuckled enthusiastically, “Let’s play a game.”

Jooheon shook his head, “I don’t want to play with you. You cheat and you’re mean.”

“Don’t be such a fucking infant.” Changkyun snapped, but his smile had returned in the same blink, “Pleeease, Honey. You never play with me. I’m bored.”

He sighed in quick defeat, prefering to avoid another of his brother's temper tantrums, knowing that Changkyun could always make things worse if he was denied what he wanted.  “What’s the game?”

“If I can figure out who she is on my own, without any hints from you, I get to fuck her.” Jooheon’s jaw clenched, but his brother wasn’t done yet. “I get to fuck her...first.”

“Changkyun.” he growled between tight lips.

His brother only laughed, “Oh please! Please, brother! Who knows if I’ll even be able to figure it out?”

“No.”

“What if I make it a little harder for myself?” he asked, “I only get three guesses.”

Jooheon rolled his eyes knowing full well Changkyun was not going to let it go until he agreed to play. “Fine. Three guesses. No hints.”

“Deal.” Changkyun grinned and held out his hand.

Jooheon grabbed his brother's hand and in an instant they were wrapped in a bind of fire to seal the deal. Jooheon could see the flames dancing in his brothers glistening black eyes, he already felt defeated. His brother always got everything he wanted. Why should she be any different?

After the deal was sealed Changkyun clapped his palms together. “Let’s begin! ONWARD! To the foyer!”

-

You stood at the bar in the foyer suppressing a yawn. Requesting a date on a Wednesday night meant this guy had already been docked points in your book. Being late meant he’d lost even more. Mostly you just hoped he wasn’t going to stand you up. You chewed on the stem that had been attached to the cherry that came with your drink and eyed yourself through the mirror behind the bar.

You looked so good tonight considering the speed with which you had to get ready between getting home from work and the original meet up time. Your dress was stark white and tight against your curves. The hem sat against the tops of  your thighs, not even thinking about nearing your knees. The neck was a deeper v than you normally wore but the white lace sleeves made it seem more classy than slutty, so you thought anyway.

Your blind date was forty minutes late and you had to decide between getting another drink or calling it a night. You lifted your hand to grab the attention of the bartender, ready to close your tab and giving this date a time of death but then you felt it. A tightening in your stomach, you crossed one red stiletto covered foot over the other, squeezing your thighs together and tried to keep breathing. You didn’t know how you knew it was him, you just knew he was somewhere nearby. This wasn’t the first time you’d felt it.

“Did you need something?” the bartender asked. “Refill?”

You shook your head and after a slightly put out look she turned and went to the next guest. Turning around you leaned your back against the bar and searched the room. It didn’t take long before you saw him. Not your date. Jooheon. Standing at the top of the stairs with his brother at his side.

Changkyun was saying something energetically as he looked over the crowd of club attendees. With a gulp you looked Jooheon over. His hair was bright red tonight, the last time you saw him it was blonde, and pushed back off of his forehead. You could see the dip in his cheek from his dimple from where you were, that's how deep it was, and the double slit in his eyebrow.

You bit your bottom lip as they made their way down the stairs, your heart was racing. He’d missed a few buttons on the black silk shirt he was wearing, intentionally you assumed, and you were mesmerized by the thin silver chain around his neck with its pendant that bounced against his bare chest. Your gaze had just made it to the holy grail, a golden snake belt buckle and a pair of tight black, leather pants that had your mouth a confused mixture of desert dry and waterfall of drool.  

That was when you heard, “Did it hurt?”

Moving your focus you met your date, Kihyun, with the single red rose he said he was bringing. “Huh?”

“When you fell from heaven?” he grinned.

Oh. No. You faked your very best chuckle. “That’s cute.”

“I’m Kihyun.”

You lifted the rose he’d handed you, “I’d gathered.”

“I reserved a table in The White Room. People say it’s hard to get a reservation here but honestly I found it easy. I always get into wherever I want probably because-” he continued to brag, not even humbly, but you had stopped listening anyway.

With every step The Twins moved closer. They walked right past you as if in slow motion, the sleeve of Jooheon’s black blazer brushed the back of your hand and you nearly lost your breath completely. Wishful thinking had you believing he’d even looked at you, however briefly. He hadn’t even gotten two steps away and you’d already imagined about four different ways he could take you right then and there. You could probably kill someone if it meant running your hands through his hair, kissing that dimple, knowing that man. Honestly you couldn’t help but to think to yourself that you might have to just sleep with Kihyun tonight even if things didn’t go well because you were pretty sure you were in heat. And why should you have to suffer through the night just because this guy hadn’t yet had the decency to apologize for being an hour late.

“Y/n?” he said, placing his hand gently on your forearm.

You jumped slightly, you were so incredibly wound up. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted to go to our seats now.”

“Yeah, let’s go...” You said with one last longing look over at The Twins.

-

While you were getting comfortable with Kihyun in The White Room, Jooheon was following Changkyun around on his mission through The Eighth Circle. First the foyer, where he would look at every guest and then back at Jooheon to search his face for some sort of slip up. Then The Red Room where he moved around the room in his charismatic way, gently touching guests on their hips or arms, asking them if they were having a good time and trying to read their energy. By the time they stepped out of The Purple Room he’d wasted two of his guesses. Changkyun was furious and Jooheon was feeling hopeful. Only one more wrong guess from his counterpart and he was free to pursue you.

“Give me a fourth guess.” Changkyun huffed, “One for each room and the foyer. It’s only fair.”

“What’s fair is you playing by the rules we’ve already set.” Jooheon declined the request, “One more guess.”

He hoped that in his frustration Changkyun would get reckless with his last guess. Guess on a whim, be wrong, game over. When they stepped into The White Room it was hard for Jooheon to not look directly at you. He also didn’t want to completely avoid you either, as Changkyun would be looking for that as well. His hands were shaking as he made it to the bar and requested a drink to steady his nerves.

Changkyun sighed deeply looking over the room. “Well, she’s definitely in here.”

“What makes you think that?” Jooheon asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“If you were vibrating any harder, every woman in this room would cum in an instant.” He grinned.

Jooheon shrugged, trying to remain casual. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure. You have one guess left.”

“Tiny or tall. Big or small.” Changkyun hummed to himself, “Blonde or Brunette. Virgin or...slut.”

“Are you and your horrid rhyming skills done yet?” Jooheon asked, “Shows about to start. Maybe you’d like to take a break from your boring little game.”

Ignoring Jooheon, Changkyun had a thought. “Maybe she’s neither virgin nor whore. Maybe, maybe she’s part innocence and part evil. You wouldn’t be attracted to anyone too good, that’s bland. But she couldn’t be too evil either or it would annoy you. You need someone just right. A Goldilocks.”

“What are you talking about?” Jooheon sighed. “How could you know what any of these women are like? I’ve never even met her. I don’t know her personality. There’s no way you could.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, dear brother.” Changkyun grinned and placed two fingers against his lips as he scanned the room. “Eenie meenie...miny moe.”

Slowly he pointed his two fingers out like a gun and took aim with you in his crosshairs. His eyes lit up and his thumb dropped as he released a pop from his lips.

“Found her.” He blew a gust of breath on the barrel of his finger gun and looked over at Jooheon with a wink. “Dressed like an absolute angel but there is... nothing very nice inside of her.”

Jooheon swallowed the lump in his throat. “Fine. Congratulations, you won your dumb little game. Please, don’t do this.”

“What’s the point of winning if you don’t get your reward?” He asked and sneered over at Jooheon who was pouting, “Oh good God. Stop acting like you’re in love with her or something, you don’t even know her. It’s pathetic.”

“If she says no to your advances…”

“Then of course nothing will happen,” Changkyun scoffed, “I’m not a fucking monster.”

“Guess that depends on who you ask.” Jooheon muttered.

“Well, this was fun but I think it’s time to collect my winnings.” Changkyun looked over at Jooheon curiously, “Are you going to watch?”

Jooheon rolled his eyes and finished off his drunk, “Go fuck yourself, brother.”

“Oh but I won’t have to!”  Changkyun laughed to himself as he watched Jooheon storm out of the room.

-

Kihyun had gotten you a new drink before the two of you took your seats in the front row booth he’d reserved for your date. However he’d also talked so much, about himself, that your drink was already down to the ice cubes. You half listened to him as he described in detail what his average work day looked like and half watched the runoff of your melting ice. Taking a sip every time there was enough collected at the bottom of the cup to warrant taking a sip. What felt like three hours, but was only about twenty minutes passed before he finally looked at his watch.  

“Wow, I can’t believe how fast time is flying.” He said with a smile.

“Who knew investment banking was so fascinating.” you offered with mediocre enthusiasm.

“I think they’re really about to get started soon. Would you like me to refill your drink again beforehand?” he asked.

You nodded gratefully, “That would be amazing, thank you.”

“Okay, but last one.” He laughed sliding out of the booth. “No one likes a girl that can’t keep her wits about her.”

Suppressing an eyeroll that hard nearly gave you an instant migraine. The second his back was turned you pulled out your phone and sent a text to the friend that had set you up on this blind date to let her know she was now your ex-friend. You cleared out a few of your awaiting notifications and then before you could even stop yourself your jaw dropped in the biggest yawn you’d ever experienced in your life.

“A yawn that big does not bode well for my business.”

If Changkyun was any other man in the world you assumed you would probably despise him based on his tacky fashion sense alone. Tonight he was wearing a silk, snake print shirt under a purple, velvet blazer. That alone would have been enough to turn you away from any other man, then on top of that his belt buckle was a massive, eye catching, howling wolf's head. Infact, rather than being repulsed by the outfit you found yourself staring quite unabashed as he stood in front of you. His pierced eyebrow was raised as he looked you over, and you noticed the flash of silver on his tongue as it moved across his bottom lip.  

In your head you thought of at least ten clever, sexy comebacks to give him. Ultimately, after too long, all you gave him in reply was, “Huh?”

He snickered to himself, knowing full well he’d already ruffled your feathers and he was only just warming up. “If you’re not having a good time, I want you to know I will make it my personal mission to make sure that you do.”

Shaking your head you blushed, “It’s not...The club is great. Beautiful. Entertaining beyond comparison.”

His eyes darted over to the bar, lingered on Kihyun’s back for a moment, and then went back to you, “Oh no, it’s not...your date? Please tell me you’re not here, in that dress, with someone who is yawn worthy boring.”

Your mouth opened and then you closed it slowly into a smile as Kihyun came back to the table. He handed you your refreshed drink and took his seat in the booth before realizing Changkyun was standing beside your table.

“Hi...can we help you?” he asked, clearly confused.

“How rude of me…” Changkyun held out his hand and Kihyun accepted it. “I’m Changkyun. This is my club. Well, half of it anyway.”

“Do you often walk around to make sure people are having a good time?” Kihyun asked.

“Ahh.” Changkyun smirked, “Only when I see a truly beautiful woman in one of my seats.”

“Yes, well, y/n is a stunning specimen.” Kihyun smiled tightly, “I’d thank you for the wonderful time we’ve been having, but the conversation has been all us. The chemistry...spectacular.”

You could see the look in Changkyun’s eye, the one that said he had something witty waiting on that sharp tongue, but the lights began to dim. “Can I sit with you? Just for the first performance? I’d hate to be in anyone’s way.”

“I don’t think-”

“Of course.”

You and Kihyun spoke together, but ultimately you scooted into the booth further and allowed Changkyun to slip in beside you as the music began and that was the end of the discussion. The room went dark and a bright white spotlight hit the stage where the white velvet curtains parted to show the stage. An old, big jazz band song started to play and you watched wide eyed as a huge silver ring descended from the ceiling and sitting on the bottom arc of the circle was a scantily clad woman. You watched fascinated as she began moving around the ring. Hanging, dangling, contorting her body all around the thin bar.

Taking just a moment to break your gaze away from the stage, you grabbed your drink to take a sip. Your eyes caught Changkyun’s hand, resting on the top of the table, his fingers thrumming against the white table cloth. Silver bands on two of his fingers and black nail polish on three. Placing your glass down on the table, it took maximum efforts not to reach for his hand.

They looked so long and soft. You wanted to feel them and feel them on you. You realized that this might be the closest you ever got to one of the brothers, so you let your eyes wander. Over his hands, over his wrist with the thin silver bracelet that dangled from it, over his body. The rise and fall of his smooth chest, that you could see clearly from the way his shirt rested open loosely. He was leaning back against the booth and his neck looked so long you gulped. His profile was flawless, jaw sharp, chin perfectly curved, nose...god, his nose. There was a smirk across his lips when he turned his face. His eyes locked with yours, refusing to let you go, not that you’d have looked away anyway.

Changkyun lifted his hand to your face, dragging his fingers down your jaw before holding your chin between his fingers. You felt dazed in a way you had never felt before. You leaned towards him, you were nearly there, lips ready to press against the ones that waited there for you. Then you blinked. Just a blink and you were sitting back in the booth, the lights coming up from the end of the performance. Kihyun was applauding enthusiastically and Changkyun was slipping out of the booth.  

“Wait!” you said suddenly. Changkyun turned to look back at you. “Do you...have to leave so soon?”

“Y/n,” Kihyun reached out and placed his hand on your knee, “I’m sure he’s a busy man with a lot to do. Let’s not bother him further. We can go get dinner.”

“Didn’t you say it was your personal mission to make sure I had a good time?”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” he grinned, “I suppose I could spend a while longer with you.”

“...that’s really not necessary.” Kihyun said quietly, but it was pretty clear he was quickly becoming the third wheel on this date.

You bit your lip as Changkyun sat back down next to you. Kihyun watched flabbergasted for several minutes as the two of you flirted right in front of him before he got up with a huff and took off. You felt a little bad but not enough that you would have gone back in time to change anything.

Changkyun, one of the widely sought after demon twins, had his arm over your shoulder and all of his attention focused on you. You pinched yourself several times until you flinched because it just didn’t seem real.

After a few more performances you mentioned needing to think about calling a cab to go home. Changkyun offered sweetly to take you home and you jumped at the chance. This night started out as such a flop and had turned into a fantasy.

“Stay here.” Changkyun said, letting his hand drag over your hip. He’d walked you out of The White Room following the last performance, and into the busy foyer. “I’ll call for the car.”

You inhaled deeply and let out a relaxing sigh. Being around Changkyun had you so tense, so unbelievably aroused. The knot in your gut was screaming for release, and though you didn’t want to be presumptuous you thought you might actually have a chance with him tonight. A big part of you wished you’d caught Jooheon’s eye, but getting to be with either of the twins was more than you could have hoped for yourself.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

Your blood prickled as Jooheon stepped next to you, his hands in his pockets.

“I..heh...um.” you shook with nerves.

Jooheon just smiled, his dimple digging deeper into his cheek. You wanted to swim in it.

Looking over at you completely he smiled kindly, “Be careful on your way home tonight. We’d like to have you back here again soon.”

“Wow.” You gasped.

You’d never seen him up close before, and honestly you weren’t ready for it. Changkyun was something. Jooheon was something else completely. His eyes were dark but glistened like galaxies. His lips were so...wet. Soft, plush clouds. Your heart was pounding so hard against your chest you were certain it was about to crash all the way through.

“What?” He asked quietly, like a whisper, just for you.

“It’s just..you’re breathtaking.” You’d be embarrassed about saying it later on when you remembered but for now it just had to be said.

He blushed at the compliment. “I could say the same for you.”

There was just something about him. Something inside you was so drawn to something in him. You thought about what it would feel like to just be held by him. He looked like the definition of comfort.

“Y/n.” Both of you turned to see Changkyun, standing in the doorway looking, in contrast, like the definition of devious. “We’re all set, are you ready?”

“Have fun.” Jooheon bowed out and you watched as he turned and left.

“Yeah, ready.” You smiled at Changkyun and he led you to the car waiting outside.

You slid over the black leather of the backseat and Changkyun slid in after. After you gave the driver your address the two of you sat quietly together. Several blocks passed by the window before Changkyun turned to you.

“You prefer my brother.”

“What?” You asked as if you hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes thinking endlessly about Jooheon and his impossible dimple and his unstoppable lips.

“It’s okay. It won’t hurt my feelings.” He assured you.

You sighed, “I don’t have a preference, it’s only that I’d noticed him first.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Why?” Your whole mood dropped.

“It’s just Jooheon is deeply interested in someone right now.”

“Oh…” you didn’t know why it stung so badly, you should have already known someone like him would have someone.

“She was there tonight at the club. Absolutely stunning young woman.”

“That’s so nice...for them.” You wished he’d stop talking about it already.

“It is, isn't it? Then there’s two poor, lonely idiots like us. Right?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

You scoffed lightly, “Poor, lonely idiot...that’s definitely me.”

Changkyun looked down at his lap and sighed, “Well, unfortunately I can’t get you what you want, but I can give you second best if you’re willing to settle.”

“What?” You asked in genuine disbelief. “You...would be interested in someone like me?”

“Not someone like you.” He corrected. “I’m interested in you.”

“Really?” You asked, “I don’t mean to sound...so surprised. It’s just, I find it so very hard to believe someone as handsome as you would be interested in me.”

“Why do you think I spent my whole night with you?” He chuckled.

“Honestly? Pity.”

“Not at all. Not even a little bit.” He looked over at you and smirked, “I spent my night with you in hopes of getting a kiss.”

You practically snorted in shock. “What?”

“Something small. Just to taste you.”

“Are you serious?”

He shrugged, “Only if you wanted it too. ...but since I’m not Jooheon.”

It would have been stupid to waste even another second so you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. You could taste how smug he was. The tip of his tongue swiped at your lips and you opened your mouth to him without hesitation. His tongue was soft and slick with the exception of the little metal ball that massaged your tongue.

You moaned into his mouth while his hands roamed over your body. He’d turned his body to yours, his fingers slipping up the thin fabric of your dress until his hand was your hip and the skirt was pulled all the way up to your stomach. You were a panting, breathless mess and his hands were only urging you further.  

You pressed your palm against his chest, “Changkyun…while this is nice and I desperately want more...your driver is like right there.”

“Who?” He said looking towards the front seat and then back to you, “Minhyuk?”

“Yeah…” you nodded, “He’s probably already heard everything I doubt he wants to see it too.”

“Don’t worry. He’s deaf, and blind...and mute.”

“Your driver is deaf and blind?” You smirked.

“Sure he is.” He leaned in and sucked the skin of your neck until you whimpered . “Isn’t that right, Minhyuk?”

When you looked over you saw Minhyuk's eyes flicker to the rear view mirror and then back to the road.

“See, and mute. Like I said.” he slipped his hand between your thighs, fingers grazing your wrecked panties. “Now tell the truth, since your soaked pussy already has. You kind of want him to watch.”

You shook your head, “I don’t care about that. I just...It’s you. I really want you.”

A fire flickered in his eyes and his chest puffed up enthusiastically, “You do?”

“Well...yeah.” you laughed, brushing his cheek with your hand.

“Then you should have me.” His hand pulled gently on your hip.

The pull wasn’t aggressive, only suggestive, until you were throwing your leg over his lap, and sitting on top of him. As the car moved through the streets the backseat filled with the sounds smacking lips and desperate, lustful moans. His hands spread out over your ass and he brought your hips into his. The size of the bulge you felt between your thighs was more than you could have expected. Your eyes rolled back while your hips rolled forward in a needy attempt at getting the friction you hadn’t realized you were missing out on.

Changkyun sat smug beneath you, enjoying the frenzied way that you thrusted against him. Your teeth dug into his lips. It was as if you’d lost all control. Your animalistic need for him was outweighing any desire you had to preserve an image of a respectable woman. Then you were close, you could taste your orgasm on the tip of your tongue. All you needed was maybe ten more seconds with his bulge. And then it was gone. With a surprising amount of strength he plucked you from his lap and you were back on the seat, stunned into silence.

“It seems we’re here.” Changkyun said calmly as he straightened out his shirt and jacket. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

“I..umm.” you straightened your skirt down your trembling legs. “Well… thank you for the ride. I appreciate it.”

“I should thank you for the ride.” He laughed and then he asked in a slightly condescending tone, “You didn’t expect me to go in with you did you?”

Too embarrassed to even look at him, you shook your head and opened the door, “Of course not. Uhm, bye.”

You slipped out of the car and began the shameful walk inside. You heard the door shut and were waiting for the car to drive off when you heard Changkyun call out to you.

“Why would I be expected to come inside when you didn’t even ask nicely?”

Turning around you smiled at the sight of him standing beside the waiting car, looking proud of himself for fooling you.

“Changkyun… would you like to join me inside?”

With his hands in his pockets he walked over slowly. Casually, taking in the outside view of your apartment building, until you were standing chest to chest. Leaning down he whispered against your ear, “I would love to come inside of you. Oop, I meant with you.”

Without even asking your brain permission, your hips pushed forward until they were pressed against his. “I-uh…”

“Go on…” he prompted. “Tell the truth. Tell me again what you want.”

He was so close you couldn’t miss the opportunity to taste him again. Kissing softly along his jaw until you met his ear you whispered, “I want you.”

“Want me to what?”

You blushed and shook your head, “Just you.”

“Come on, y/n.” He grinned, “I know how filthy you can get. I just watched you hump me relentlessly in the backseat of my car. Stop playing coy and tell me what it is that you want.”

“I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs.”

He inhaled sharply and stepped back with a pleased smile, “Wonderful. Lead the way.”  

-

Somewhere between your initial excitement outside of the apartment building and the ride up the elevator you remembered that your apartment was a mess. Usually your home had that typical ‘lived in’ feel to it, but it wasn’t a pigsty. However after the hurricane you had become in your attempt to get ready for your date it was a sloppy disaster. You tried to talk  Changkyun into waiting out in the hall while you cleaned up but, too amused by your panic, he refused.

“May I have a look around?” Changkyun asked politely as you hurriedly picked up loose clothes from the floor.

“Sure...it’s messy. Obviously.” You warned, “I hadn’t planned on having anyone up.”

“Not even your date?” He called curiously from the living room as he surveyed your belongings.

You let out a quiet sigh as you considered how to answer him. Shaking your own head in disbelief you said, “I don’t typically do this kind of thing. You know, just… invite people home on the first date.”

Changkyun laughed heartily from the doorway of your bedroom and it made you jump. You hadn’t realized he was right there. “You don’t have to lie for my benefit. In fact I prefer your filthy, slutty honesty.”

Between the suggestive tone of his words and the dark look in his eyes, goosebumps popped up all over your body. He swiped his long, wet tongue over his lips and then casually turned his back on you to continue perusing your belongings.

“Can I get you anything? Water...wine…” you asked, lighting a scented candle and then leaning against the dresser once you’d finished your quick clean.

“Do you have any banana milk?” He asked and looked over his shoulder at your surprised face before he laughed, “I’m fucking with you. I don’t want anything.”

Your thighs rubbed anxiously together as you watched him look over your bookshelf. He opened a few boxes to find letters and photographs before moving on.

“You look like you’re looking for something.” You said with a tiny gulp.

“I am.” He said honestly before tugging open one of your bedside drawers.

“How do you know I even have what you’re looking for?”

He smirked as he made his way around the bed to the second drawer. Placing his hand on the handle he watched your cheeks flush and he said, “You absolutely have what I’m looking for...angel.”

You were practically shaking as he pulled the drawer open. He laughed again before reaching into the drawer and pulling out your favorite teal colored vibrator. Turning towards you he spun it around in his hand.

“Not even in the cute, silk drawstring bag for added privacy. Just sitting right on top where anyone can find it. What a bad girl...” He stepped over to you and dragged the toy against your thigh. “This guy must see a lot of action.”

“Maybe.” You said as he moved the vibrator up under your dress. “Why were you looking for it?”

“I wanted to see what you’re used to.” He leaned in until you felt his breath on your neck. “I wanted to see if you could take me.”

Your eyes closed gently, “And?”

“Inconclusive.” He said inhaling you deep into his chest. “I’ll have to conduct further tests. So if you’d be so kind as to go lay down for me.”

“Okay…”

“So agreeable.” He watched you slip past him and move toward the bed. “Take the dress off first.”

You stopped just at the edge of the mattress and unzipped the side of your dress. His eyes stayed on you as you tugged the dress off your shoulders and slipped it down your hips and thighs until it fell to the floor at your feet. Turning around you looked at him, his head was tilted and there was something evil in his smile as he took you in. Noticing that you hadn’t moved he looked up and caught your eyes and with a small shiver you climbed onto the mattress.

“No bra.” He noted.

“Doesn’t go with the cut of the dress.”

“Interesting that you didn’t plan on having any visitors tonight, and yet you’re wearing such mouthwatering panties. Maybe you’re just the type that owns only fancy matching sets.” He said, pushing himself off of your dresser and moving towards the bed, “If I check your panty drawer what will I find, y/n? A dozen matching lace, satin sets or a mismatched  mess of cute cotton panties with pineapples and puppy dogs on them.”

“What do you think?” You asked softly as he sat down on the mattress next to you and crossed one leg over the other.

“I think I’d prefer you in neither.” He grinned, his pierced eyebrow raised and you realized his comment had been a subtle command.

Biting your lip, you squirmed as you pulled your panties off your hips and down your thighs. Changkyun cleared his throat and held out his hand once they’d unhooked from your ankles. You handed him the laced satin fabric. Fisting them in his hand he brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply with a satisfied groan.

“Mmm. That’s a five star cunt if I’ve ever smelled one.” He smiled, and placed the bundle of fabric in his pocket. His fingers danced across the skin of your stomach, over your hip, and down your thigh. “I’ve already done such a nice job on you. And we’ve only just begun.”

You watched quietly as he pushed your legs open and teased your soaked sex with this fingertips. They slipped over your slick folds, circled your sensitive clit, and dipped briefly into the velvety depth of you. He kept his eyes on your face the whole time, taking in every reaction, no matter how small. No matter how hard you tried to hide it from him, he was learning you too quickly. He lifted his glistening fingers to his mouth and hummed pleasantly as his tongue ran over them.

He dropped his hand down to your mouth and said, “Open.”

You twisted your tongue around his fingers before sucking them into your mouth. When he groaned and his eyes fell closed you wanted to cheer in celebration that you’d finally gotten him. Even if it was small, and even if he was definitely going to own you much harder, you internally celebrated your little victory. After a long minute passed with his fingers in your mouth he removed them from your lips and cupped your face in his hand.

“I...like you.” he said softly, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

Dropping his hand beside him he picked up the vibrator that had been laying on the comforter. A shiver went through you when he clicked the toy on and brought it between your legs. Your toes were already starting to curl into the blanket beneath you and all he’d done was drag the vibrator over your pussy. He circled the toy around your clit several times before dragging it down and back up. You didn’t know exactly what his plan was but you loved how it felt. Once he’d gotten the vibrator as dripping wet as you were, he pressed it inside of you slowly. Your mouth fell open at the sudden filling sensation of it.

“Touch yourself.” he requested.

As your hand reached down to play with your hardened clit, Changkyun leaned forward and took one of your nipples in his mouth. There was something so...detached and demeaning in the way you were completely naked and exposed while he remained fully dressed. Despite how small he had you feeling, you still felt incredibly powerful with all of the focus being on you. It was surprisingly sexy. You moaned as you felt your oncoming orgasm for a second time that night, while he fucked you with your own vibrator. Your free hand slid up into Changkyun’s hair and massaged the back of his head as he continued to suck and tease your breasts with his teeth.  

“Fuck!” You shouted, back arching off the mattress, “Don’t stop, I’m so close. I’m gonna cum.”

You were right there that moment of agony before the ecstasy. Except ecstasy didn’t come and neither did you. Changkyun had pulled the vibrator from between your legs and turned it off and with the loss of the fill your hand had dropped subconsciously.

“Why?” You whimpered.

This was the second time he’d done that tonight and you were annoyed and furious and so aroused you wanted to scream. He looked down at you, his fingers brushing a few stray strands of hair from your sweat beaded forehead.

He shrugged, “It’s funny. You’re very cute when you squirm.”

He stood up from the mattress and pulled his jacket from his body before folding it and hanging it over the plush reading chair in the corner. He hummed a cheerful song as he walked back to the bed, rolling his sleeves up his forearms.  Standing at the end of the mattress, he looked over you. Grabbing your ankles and he dragged you down the bed slightly until he had you where he wanted you and then he climbed onto the bed between your legs. Spreading your legs wide open he admired what he’d done so far. You laughed to yourself as he inspected your swollen, sticky cunt.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, spreading your lips open.

“Nothing.” you answered quickly.

You gasped as he smacked your sensitive sex, “Don’t lie. Tell me what you think is so funny. I love a good joke just like anyone else.”

“It’s just…” you sighed, “If you’re going to try and eat me out...it’s not going to work. Not after you’ve already gone so hard with the vibrator. It just won’t be enough to get me off.”

He laughed lightly, “Do you mind if I try it? If you think it won’t work, it probably won’t work but, I’d still like to try.”

“I’ve never said no to head before.”

You’d had one boyfriend in the past who always asked you to sit on his face. It was some of the best head you’d ever gotten. The way his tongue got deeper than any other before him, you were sure it was the only way you could come from oral alone. That was until now, until Changkyun.

He started out so timid. Tiny kitten licks, a long slow swipe of his tongue from bottom to top. It was nice but as you’d suspected it wasn’t about to bring you to orgasm. Then he changed tempo and once he had you suspected that his original apprehension was a red herring.  

He pushed your legs open and put the weight of his arms down on them to keep from moving, which was smart because in seconds your body was attempting to snap them shut on his face. He sucked your clit between his lips and beat it senselessly with the tiny metal piercing on his tongue. You’d been wrong, and if he’d asked you would have admitted it readily. However he didn’t ask, he just kept going. You fisted his hair in between your shaking fingers.

“What...the...fuck.” you gasped as he snaked his tongue inside of you.

Not just inside of you, but deep. Deeper than should have been physically possible. There was half a sense of concern, what had he actually shoved inside of you, but the rest of you just didn’t care. The part that didn’t care won over as your hips started to push up into his face, needing more.

“Oh my god!”

Your gasps turned to shouts of pleasure as he brought out his secret weapon. With his tongue impossibly deep inside of you, the piercing massaging your slick sensitive walls you thought you could come like that. Then his nose brushed against your clit. You couldn’t breath. Your eyes blew wide and it felt like everything you thought you’d known about your own body was a mistake.

“Yes!” You screamed out as your hips tried to buck further into his face, “Fuck! YES! Oh god! Oh- shit!”

He kept on and you kept screaming until there was aggressive pounding on your bedroom wall from your neighbor. You knew you should stop screaming, that you should pull yourself together, but Changkyun and his devilish relentlessness wouldn’t let you.

“Fuck! I'm gonna cum! I’m! Gonna-”

Changkyun pulled away from your pussy with a pop. He licked his lips as he pushed himself up off the mattress.

You deflated against the pillows like a sad balloon. “I don’t like you.”

He shrugged, “For a minute there it sounded like you were incredibly fond of me.”

“Why? Why do you hate me?”

“You said I wouldn’t be able to make you cum.” he said innocently, “It would have been so embarrassing for me if I failed, so I thought it would be better to just quit while I was ahead.”

Grabbing the pillow from beneath your head you swung it into his face. He grabbed the pillow with a genuine laugh and tossed it back on the bed.

“You know I was right there. You know you were going to get me off.” you glared. “Asshole.”

Walking around to the side of the bed he grabbed your hips and tugged you ruffly until your legs were hanging off of the edge where he stepped between them. He leaned forward and sucked the skin of your chest between his lips, moving up until he was latched onto your neck. Your arms slid up his back until your hands were hooked over his shoulders, holding him close.

Finally he pulled back slightly and whispered, “Maybe I just wanted to feel you cum on my dick. Would that be so bad?”

“No.” you said breathlessly as the dark look in his eyes washed over your body like a wildfire.  

A gulp traveled down your throat as he stood fully and removed his belt and unzipped his pants. “Flip over for me.”

“I want to see it.” you said curiously. 

“Fine.” he smirked and placed his hands on his hips. “Go ahead.”

Without a second thought you sat up on the bed and reached to unbutton his pants. You dragged them down his hips just slightly, along with the black boxer briefs beneath. Then, teeth digging anxiously into your bottom lip you freed the massive bulge you’d enjoyed so much earlier in the car.

“Oh.”

It was what you could only describe as the holy grail of dicks. Smooth and long, with perfect and even coloration. It was pretty. The thickness of it made you both nervous and excited. It sat heavy in your palm and the tip glistened with precum. Leaning forward you pressed a sweet kiss against the head and then sat back to lick the taste of him from your lips.

“Will it do?” he asked

“Only one way to find out.” you turned around, and dug your knees into the mattress.

You could feel his hand move between your legs once more. He pressed three fingers inside of you, just to be sure you wouldn’t be stretched too uncomfortably. When he finally sunk into you, you lurched forward onto the bed.

“Is that okay?” It shocked you how thoughtful and caring he sounded.  

You nodded and pressed back into him for assurance. “Don’t stop this time.”

“I won’t.” he promised, his hands wrapping around your hips as he continued on.

It was so slow and easy at first, you thought it would be nice if he could just keep doing it forever. A long satisfied moan escaped your lips. Once he knew you’d taken to his size he went harder, faster. Reaching forward he grabbed your hair tightly in his fist and pulled you back against his chest. It surprised you how sensitive your skin was against the silk of his shirt. Almost as sensitive as your pussy had gotten to his silk cock. The arm that wasn’t hanging onto your hair slipped around your body, his hand cupping your bouncing breast.

“Oh! Fuck me! Harder!” you begged as he slammed into you.

Your orgasm was close, coming faster than any of the ones before and only building bigger with every hard thrust.

“Oh, baby…” he panted against the top of your head, feeling you start to contract around him.

Then your eyes went wide, “NO! What are you doing? Don’t you dare.”

He’d pulled out and hadn’t pushed back in with the swiftness as he had before.

Changkyun only laughed. “Calm down. I just want to see that pretty little face you’re about to make when you cum all over my fat cock .”

You flipped over one more time and looked up at him skeptically. “I swear to God...”

He chuckled as he lifted your leg up around his waist and sunk back into you. “God doesn’t give a fuck if you cum. I do.”

There was something about being face to face. Having your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, his forehead pressed against yours, your tongue being gently sucked in between his lips. You were glad he’d made the switch. This was nice. And though he was still fully dressed it felt intimate.

“Oh..Changkyun...yes.” you cried out as your orgasm tore through you threefold. You’d never come so hard, you weren’t sure you could stop. The tightening of your walls milked out his own orgasm soon after. Your body shook almost violently as you came but so sweetly your voice flowed against his ear when you breathed out a simple, “Kyunnie…”

It wasn’t something he’d ever wanted anyone to know. If people found out it would make him appear soft and weak. However, as intentionally uncaring and cruel as he often came off, all he’d ever wanted was to be wanted. Really, truly wanted. Not wanted because he was attractive or rich or had a big dick. And it was impossible for him to know what you’d really wanted him for but it just  felt different with you. It felt like more when you said his name like that, like you still wanted him even though he was done with you.

He knew when you said his name like that he’d fucked up. All he was trying to do was piss off Jooheon. It had been a joke. He didn’t plan to actually like you, he didn’t want to. He wanted to discard you like trash. Give you away to his brother as sloppy seconds and see how much he wanted you then.

“Stay here.” he said hurriedly. He pulled out of you and tucked himself into his pants before disappearing into your attached bathroom.

“Where would I go?” you muttered, before dropping back onto the mattress exhausted.

You closed your eyes and listened as he moved around your bathroom, trying to figure out what he was doing in there. You had figured he was just washing up but it was taking longer than you expected. When he finally returned you were nearly asleep.

“Not yet…” he said waking you up and then helping you off the bed. “Can’t let you go to bed looking like some teenage boys used sock.”

You snorted out a laugh and leaned your head against his shoulder. “You’re just so romantic I don’t know how to handle myself.”

In the bathroom you were genuinely stunned to see that he’d run a bath for you, complete with overflowing bubbles. He helped you step into the tub and eased you down into the warm water.

“Kyunnie…” he looked away from you and then gulped before looking back, “This is actually really sweet.”

“Well,” he grabbed a washcloth, dunking it into the water to use on your skin, “it can’t take all night. Minhyuk is still downstairs waiting for me.”

Lifting your hand you moved it over his neck and pulled him down for a kiss before muttering against his lips, “You can tell him to leave...stay the night with me.”

“I can’t.” he stood up from the tub and dropped the towel in the water. “I’m going to clean up out here. I’ll be back to get you out in a minute.”

He was panicking and he needed to get his composure back. It might be nice to stay the night with you. It might be what he wanted to do, but he wouldn’t. Not only was Minhyuk waiting to take him home, but Jooheon was waiting there for him. Jooheon. His brother. His only friend on earth. The only person who ever would and ever could understand him completely. The only person that would ever put up with his bullshit no matter what.

Jooheon. The one that he was certain was bound to you. At least if the mark on your forearm had anything to say about it.

So he took a deep breath, cleaned up the mess he’d made of your bed and went back to help you out of the tub like he said he would. He even dressed you and tucked you into the bed before getting his jacket off the chair. When he turned to say goodbye you were looking at him with big needy eyes and your lip between your teeth and he hated it.

“Will I see you again?” you asked.

He looked at you with one of his classically smug smirks that you’d seen over and over again all night and said, “I’m sure you will.”

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - How A Star Is Born. ch.VI

A Hercules AU, founded by @evaroze, whom this fic is a gift for. I hope y’all like it!

ch.V - ch.VII

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~

The little sailboat gently glided along the river that would eventually pool into the sea. There, just as the river touched the vast salty body of water, there was a harbor that began the huge troublesome town of Thebes.

“Wow,” Dipper awed as he tied up the boat. “Is that all one town?”

“One town, a million troubles.” Stan quipped as he walked along the dock and his student hurried to catch up. “The Big Olive herself: Thebes. They say if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”

“Cool!” Dipper said as they entered the city. Never before had the farmboy seen so many temples and buildings clumped together, so many people in one place, so many speeding carts and horses and stray cats and the occasional mice that kept the cats fat and happy.

“Stick with me, kid,” Stan warned as they stopped with a group of people waiting to cross the street. “This place is dangerous.”

The horse-pulled carts came to a stop and some guy turned a red-hand vase so it showed a green walking man. They began to cross, but one cart sped by them and Stan had to dive on top of Dipper to push them both out of the way in time.

“Watch where you’re doing!”

“HEY I’M WALKING HERE!” Stan screamed back and made a rude gesture and he got up from Dipper, somehow miraculously getting a slight hint of a Latin accent. “See what I mean? Knuckleheads, all of them.”

“Then you should feel right at home.” Dipper sneered playfully, earning him a firm punch on the shoulder as they walked on.

A few minutes into town, after passing a shady conman that Stan saw right-through, a cute lady at a corner asking if anyone was wanting a good time, and a naked guy singing about accepting yourself, loving yourself, while waving around a dead chicken, the two men walked up to a fountain, taking notice of a group of people talking woefully.

“It was horrible.” A whiny troll-looking guy said as he rinsed his cap into the fountain, trying to get the soot off his clothes. “I lost everything in the fire. All of my beautiful vases and stone tablets.”

“Now were the fires before or after the earthquakes?” A big red-haired guy asked.

“They were after the fires.” A red-haired girl a few years older than Dipper answered with. “But before the flood.”

“Not to mention the crime-rate.” A skinny guy with a small mustache added in. “Seems every time I turn around, there’s some new monster running havoc!”

“1220 has got to be the worst year I’ve ever heard of.” The red-haired woman said as she kicked a rock harshly and crossed her arms over her chest. “Can’t we just move to Sparta, Dad?”

The entire time the locals were complaining, Stan was elbowing Dipper encouragingly and gesturing for him to go ahead. Dipper cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me.” When all the eyes were on him, he felt a little nervous, but he went ahead. “It seems to me that what you need is a hero.” He said confidently and puffed his chest out with his hands on his hips.

The crowd did not look impressed. “Yeah,” The big guy snorted. “And who are you?”

“Um, I’m Dipper.” The young man said, trying to keep his confidence up, but was failing. “But I happen to be a hero, and…”

The four laughed at him and Stan narrowed his eyes as the townsfolk had their doubts if this young man could possibly help them.

“Have you ever saved a town before?” The small troll-like man asked.

“Uh… n-no, not yet…”

“Or reversed a natural disaster?” The big guy asked.

“Uh… n-n-no, but…”

“Ugh,” The red-haired woman groaned. “He’s just another chariot chaser.”

“Don’t you knuckleheads get it!” Stan yelled, placing a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “This kid’s the genuine article!”

The little ugly man narrowed his eyes and adjusted his thick glasses to get a good look at the old man. “Hey… isn’t that the fallen god that trained Achelles?”

Stan’s whole face turned red and he began to shake with anger. “Watch it, pal.” He growled like an angry dog.

“Stan…”

“Hey, you’re right, Toby.” The big guy said and laughed harshly. “Oh boy! I needed this! Some amateur hero trained by the worst god of existence!”

Stan let go of Dipper and began cracking his knuckles. “You wanna go, buddy, c’mon…”

“Stan, Stan!” Dipper had to use his god-like strength to hold his teacher back as it looked like he was going to pounce on the big guy who looked like he could rip a tree out from the ground if he wanted to. “He’s not worth it, let’s just go.”

Stan, still growing, allowed Dipper to lead him to a large set of stairs while the four walked away. Soon Stan swatted Dipper’s hands off of him and they sat to try to think.

Dipper, meanwhile, was thinking about what that guy had said. A fallen god? That may very well have only been a cheap insult for the Trainer of Heroes, but Dipper had first-hand experience in the matter. Gods can fall. Was it possible that someone who had practically raised him and trained him to be a hero so he could be a god again knew exactly what it felt like to be someone you’re not?

“Stan, wh-what those guys were saying…”

“Listen, kid,” Stan said tiredly and held his head. “You’re gonna hear some really bad stuff about me in this town, and some of it is true, but I need you to trust that everything I’ve ever done has been so that family sticks together, okay? I’m gonna get you to your twin, okay? I’m gonna help you become a true hero if it’s the last thing I do, okay? All I ask is that you trust me. Please.” And he looked up at the teenager heavily.

Dipper swallowed as he saw a million and one emotions in his eyes. After everything this guy has done for him and planned to do for him, Dipper decided that trusting him was the least he could do, so the younger of the two nodded, but their moment was interrupted by a cry for help.

“Help! Help, please! Help!”

“Pacifica?” Dipper muttered as he saw a lush amount of blonde hair try to make its way through the crowd. “Pacifica!” He stood and hurried to her as her eyes lit up at the sight of him and hurried.

“Wonderboy… Dipper, thank goodness! Outside of town, by the sea, this little boy was playing and there was a horrible rockslide! He’s trapped!”

“Quick, show me where he’s at!”

Pacifica grabbed Dipper’s hand, making his whole face turn red, and she led the way through town back towards the sea, north of the harbor and just below a mountain that led to Thebes’ Temple of the Gods. Stan quickly followed behind them and a few townsfolk decided to keep an eye for entertainment purposes mostly.

On the damp sand there was a rocky wall side from where the tide often comes in and forms a wall, separating the town from the ocean. Dipper could hear a boy’s cries coming from behind a rock and he hurried across the beach, leaving Pacifica, Stan, and the townsfolk on the sidewalk.

“Help! I can’t breathe!” The boy coughed and desperately pleaded, “Somebody call I-X-I-I!”

Dipper stood by the big boulder and said calmly, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you out.”

“Hurry, please!”

Dipper looked up at the giant boulder and took in a deep breath. This rock was huge, one of the biggest things he had ever had to lift, but if he could accidentally destroy half of his hometown, he can lift a boulder. Right?

He grabbed on from the bottom and struggled for a moment, but with gritted, deep breaths, and sheer determination (Stan’s calls of encouragement also helped tremendously), Dipper was able to slowly lift the boulder up from the tiny cave in which the white haired boy was trapped behind.

The boy ran out quickly and Dipper asked in a strained voice, “Y-You okay?”

“Yeah… J-Jeepers, mister.” The boy awed. “You’re really strong!”

Dipper smiled and said after he threw the boulder into the ocean, “Just try to be a little more careful, okay?”

“I sure will!” The boy replied as he ran off into the town.

Stan cheered and hollered, only stopping when he was coughing and he bent over a little to cough sharply into his fist. The townsfolk gave a small applause for him, only a little impressed, as the boy climbed up the side of the mountain and went into the mouth of a large cave, where he was met with Bill in his throne, sipping on live worms, and Pacifica, who sat with her legs dangling over the edge.

“Jeepers? Mister?” Pacifica sneered.

“I was going for innocence.” Gideon said as she changed back into his older self and sat next to Pacifica to watch the show.

“You both did good.” Bill said coldly. “I was really moved by your performances. Great opening act.”

Meanwhile, Stan was at Dipper’s side and patted him hardly on the back. “Great job, kid! They even applauded! Sorta, but still!”

Dipper heard something and turned to look out at the dark and dreary sea. Bubbles. “I-I don’t think that’s applause, Stan.”

Stan looked out at the ocean and saw a shadow form under the bubbles, and soon they were shocked to find a big green head emerge from the water with sharp teeth and small eyes, followed by a long neck and a fat body, the monster roaring like a horrible siren.

“St-Stan! What the heck is that!?” Dipper asked his mentor.

“The Gobblewonker!” Stan yelled as he pointed at the monster. He pulled out Dipper’s sword from his scabbard, put it in his hand, and ran back to the screaming crowd for safety.

“Let’s get ready to rumble!” Gideon cheered and Bill snapped his fingers to make a ringing bell appeared.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford and Mabel were sitting on the front steps of their temple, having tea, as the young muse happily chatted and the aged god happily listened, but they were interrupted by Fiddleford’s wind-breaking running as he hurried up to his dearest friends and was short of breath.

“St-St-Stanford! It’s Mason! He’s battlin’ the Gobblewonker on the beach o’Thebes!”

Ford choked on his tea and had to spit it out. “WHAT?!”

Mabel punched the air. “Alright! He can take down that big dummy! I wanna see him do it!” And the young muse got up and started to run out of Olympus.

“Wait!” Ford called as he and his best friend ran after her. “Mabel, wait!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper slowly watched as the Gobblewonker’s neck positioned itself for attack, like an angry snake. This was no different than those garden snakes at the orphanage, right? The monster attempted to strike, but Dipper dodged swiftly on the beach. Again, and another dodge. Again, another dodge.

“That’s it,” Stan coached. “That’s it, kid, dance around, look for an opening.”

The Gobblewonker struck again, digging it’s sharp teeth into the sand, and Dipper was almost hit, but managed to spit out some sand and stand strong, unfortunately realizing a second too late that his sword was no longer in his hand, but lying behind him. Now having to multitask running the opposite direction and dodging a monster, as if this battle wasn’t difficult enough.

To distract it and buy some time, Dipper used his super strength and threw a huge rock at the Gobblewonker, who crushed it in his jaws while Dipper retrieved his weapon. He stood proud and ready to strike, but in one instant the monster engulfed the hero in it’s mouth and held its head up high to swallow Dipper like he was a pill.

Pacifica held her throat and cringed as the Gobblewonker licked his chops, but soon it was wincing, like it was in pain, and a gruesome scene of Dipper cutting the monster’s neck from the inside appeared before the audience and the Gobblewonker’s head and half its neck flew into the ocean, leaving red in the water and on his body.

“YES! THAT’S MY BOY, THAT’S MY BOY!” Stan cheered as the Gobblewonker’s body fell onto the beach with a loud splash and the dizzy hero fell to his knees. Stan was right by Dipper’s side and helped him up, lightly tapping his face. “Good job, kid, good job. C’mon, let’s getcha cleaned up.” And the old man helped his student get on his feet and shake away his dizziness from the acid that had been in the neck.

Up in the cave, Bill was turning red and shaking. Pacifica smiled, ready to see Gideon be burned to a crisp, but the young man was still, miraculously, perfectly calm.

“Gideon, your plan…”

“Bill, Bill buddy, relax.” Gideon rested his hands behind his neck as rain started to trickle down on the mortal world. “It’s only half time.”

The Gobblewonker’s body twitched behind the two men. They both turned and were very disturbed to find it standing up on its own and suddenly three heads emerged from the opened neck, ready to attack the hero again.

“HOLY HERA!” Stan yelled and ran aside to give the hero his chance.

Dipper backed away until his back was against the rocks, smiling. “Ha! You’re trapped in water, huh?”

The three-headed-Gobblewonker must have understood the young man and decided to prove him wrong, because the sea monsters climbed up out of the water and onto the same to better attack the human.

“Oh, jeez.” Dipper groaned before letting instincts take over and he chopped an incoming head off to dodge and get out of being cornered against the rocky wall.

Dipper allowed his adrenaline to take over and soon he was swinging at anything that came towards him. This, of course, was a bad idea and soon Dipper stood with his back to the sea at a thirty-headed-Gobblewonker, bigger and meaner and more powerful than ever before.

“WILL YOU FORGET THE HEAD-SLICING THING?!” Stan yelled from the sidelines.

Dipper swallowed as a clawed-flipper scooped him up and pinned him against the mountain side, all thirty heads getting closer and closer and ready to rip him apart limb from limb.

“C’mon, kid!” Stan cheered. “Use that big head of yours! C’mon!”

Dipper did some quick thinking, looking up at the mountain, and without a second to lose, he pounded his combined fists against the mountain on his left side, causing an avalanche. One by one the heads were crushed and more red stained the rainy beach, leaving only a fisted-up claw in the clear, unnoticed by the audience.

“NO!” Stan screamed and hurried to the rockpile. “C’mon, c’mon kid, stay with me. Stay with me!” The old man fell to his knees and started to move rocks out of the way, trying to find his student. “No, no, no! Please!”

Meanwhile, Gideon and Bill were smiling twisted smiles. “Hm, nice job, kiddo.” Bill said to Gideon. “You’ve redeemed yourself.”

“Told you it would work.” Gideon said calmly.

Pacifica looked down at the old man trying to get the young hero back with sad blue eyes.

“I… I can’t…” Stan panted under his breath. “I can’t lose…” But then he heard something that made him stop digging.

The fist was wiggling, finally noticed. The townsfolk were worried it was the Gobblewonker, still alive, and Stan stood ready to die trying to kill the monster that took his kid away, but everyone who was watching was beyond surprised to find Dipper priding the monster’s dead fingers off of him and standing tiredly with his clothes in rags.

Cheer erupted, everyone deaf to the yells of anger from Bill and the yells of pain from Gideon, or the dark cloud that appeared by the small cave as the three vanished.

The townsfolk yelled and celebrated and ran down to Dipper and Stan, but Stan was the first to congratulate the new hero, holding him in his arms and giving him noogies and yelling to the top of his lungs. “YOU DID IT, KID! YOU WON BY A LANDSLIDE! HAHA!”

And there, up in the dark rainy clouds, Fiddleford danced with Mabel cheerfully for Dipper’s first victory, leaving Ford standing there, mouth open, speechless with pride. “I… I can’t believe it… my boy… he…”

“I told you!” Mabel cheered and punched her uncle on the shoulder. “I was right, you were wrong! Looks like somebody has to sing the Ford Was Wrong Song!”

Ford chuckled and smiled down proudly at his nephew, who was now being carried away by the other humans. To congratulate him, Ford threw down joyous lightning bolts to dance among the jubilant rain.

Dipper caught the lightning striking the ocean and he smiled to himself, daring to believe that his family might be proud of him.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the Underworld, Gideon was on his hands and knees, weak from pain and whimpering. This was the fifth time he was being punished, and Bill wasn’t done. The young white-haired man looked up at his boss and pleaded. “Bill, I…”

With a snap of the triangle’s fingers, Gideon’s tongue burst into flame and the teenager cried out and clawed at his mouth. Bill glared maliciously as he snapped his fingers again and Gideon’s whole body was suffocated in flames. Again.

Soon a sad pile of burning flesh was at Bill’s feet slowly healing again. “First you couldn’t even turn both twins into mortals. Then the one left mortal you let live. And now he lives and kills off one of my most powerful allies for taking this dimension!” Bill snapped his fingers again, burning Gideon alive again, sentencing him to pain that would kill a mortal.

Halfway through healing again, Gideon whimpered through tears, “I can still kill him. He’s still mortal. He got lucky.”

“You better.” Bill said coldly. “You’ve got one year to kill Pinetree, and every time you fail, I’ll kill you again until either he’s dead or you wish you could stay dead.” And the triangle left his minion alone to cry on the floor and think of how he was going to kill the man destined to defeat Bill.

[untouchableindigo]

lady in brown de library waz right down from de trolly tracks cross from de laundry-mat thru de big shinin floors & granite pillars ol st. louis is famous for i found toussaint but not til after months uv cajun katie/ pippi longstockin christopher robin/ eddie heyward & a pooh bear in the children’s room only pioneer girls & magic rabbits & big city white boys i knew i waznt sposedta but i ran inta the ADULT READING ROOM                   & came across                       TOUSSAINT                         my first blk man (i never counted george washington carver cuz i didnt like peanuts)                           still TOUSSAINT waz a blk man a negro like my mama say who refused to be a slave & he spoke french & didnt low no white man to tell him nothin                       not napolean                       not maximillien                       not robespierre TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE waz the beginnin uv reality for me in the summer contest for who colored child can read 15 books in three weeks i won & raved abt TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE at the afternoon ceremony waz disqualified                       cuz Toussaint                         belonged in the ADULT READING ROOM                             & i cried & carried dead Touissant home in the book he waz dead & livin to me cuz TOUSSAINT & them they held the citadel gainst the french wid the spirits of ol dead africans from outta the ground TOUSSAINT led they army of zombies walkin cannon ball shootin spirits to free Haiti & they waznt slaves no more                              TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE became my secret lover at the age of 8 i entertained him in my bedroom widda flashlight under my covers way inta the night/ we discussed strategies how to remove white girls from my hopscotch games & etc. TOUSSAINT waz laying in bed wit me next to raggedy ann the night i decided to run away from my                   integrated home                       integrated street                           integrated school 1955 waz not a good year for lil blk girls Toussaint said ‘lets go to haiti’ i said ‘awright’ & packed some very important things in a brown paper bag so i wdnt haveta come back then Toussaint & i took the hodiamont streetcar to the river last stop only 15¢ cuz there waznt nobody cd see Toussaint cept me & we walked all down thru north st. louis where the french settlers usedta live in tiny brick houses all huddled together wit barely missin windows & shingles uneven wit colored kids playin & women on low porches sippin beer i cd talk to Toussaint down by the river like this waz where we waz gonna stow away on a boat for new orleans & catch a creole fishin-rig for port-au-prince then we waz just gonna read & talk all the time & eat fried bananas                               we waz just walkin & skippin past ol drunk men when dis ol young boy jumped out at me sayin ‘HEY GIRL YA BETTAH COME OVAH HEAH N TALK TO ME’ well i turned to TOUSSAINT (who waz furious) & i shouted ‘ya silly old boy ya bettah leave me alone or TOUSSAINT’S gonna get yr ass’ de silly ol boy came round de corner laughin all in my face ‘yellah gal ya sure must be somebody to know my name so quick’ i waz disgusted & wanted to get on to haiti widout some tacky ol boy botherin me still he kept standin there kickin milk cartons & bits of brick tryin to get all in my business                               i mumbled to L’OUVERTURE ‘what shd I do’ finally i asked this silly ol boy ‘WELL WHO ARE YOU?’ he say ‘MY NAME IS TOUSSAINT JONES’ well i looked right at him those skidded out cordoroy pants a striped teashirt wid holes in both elbows a new scab over his left eye & i said                                 ‘what’s yr name again’ he say ‘i’m toussaint jones’ ‘wow i am on my way to see TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE in HAITI are ya any kin to him he dont take no stuff from white folks & they gotta country all they own & there aint no slaves’ that silly ol boy squinted his face all up looka heah girl i am TOUSSAINT JONES & i’m right heah lookin at ya & i dont take no stuff from no white folks ya dont see none round heah do ya?’ & he sorta pushed out his chest then he say ‘come on       lets go on down to the docks & look at the boats’ i waz real puzzled goin down to the docks wit my paper bag & my books i felt TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE sorta leave me & i was sad til i realized TOUSSAINT JONES waznt too different from TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE cept the ol one waz in haiti & this one wid me speakin english & eatin apples yeah. toussaint jones waz awright wit me no tellin what all spirits we cd move down by the river st. louis 1955                               hey wait.

BY NTOZAKE SHANGE,  [lady in brown] "de library waz right down from de trolly tracks  

[layce2015]

The Last of Us (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 11: Tommy

Chapter 1/ Chapter 10

FALL

"Jackson County." Ellie read as we come upon the sign. "That means we're close to Jackson City, right?" She asked us. "You ready to see your dear old brother?" Ellie asked Joel. "I'm just ready to get there." Joel replied. "You nervous?" I asked him. "I don't know what I'm feeling." He sighs as we continue onto the trail until we come up to a dead end.

"So much for this road." Ellie remarks. "We just follow the river. It'll lead us straight to Tommy's. C'mon." Joel told her and we turn, found a side path and followed that. "What happened between you two?" Ellie asked Joel. "What do you mean?" Joel asked, confused. "You and Tommy...you're not together, so clearly something went down." She said.

"We just had a bit of a disagreement, that's all." Joel replied. "Oh, here we go...so what was it about?" She asked, exasperated. "Tommy saw the world one way, I saw it the other." Joel said to her. "And that's why he joined the Fireflies?" She asked. "Yeah, your friend Marlene promised him hope." I told her. "That kept him busy for awhile, but just like Tommy, he eventually quit that too." Joel continued as we follow the river.

"How was it, the last time you saw him?" Ellie asked Joel. "I believe his last words to me were I don't ever want to see your fuckin' face again." Joel replied. "Geez. But he's gonna help us?" Ellie asked us. "I suppose we're gonna find out." I told her as we walk under the bridge. "Well, with or without his help, we'll get there." Ellie said, hopeful. "Let's just keep going." Joel grumbles as we continue on.

****

"Whoa, what's that?" Ellie asked as we come upon a large structure. "That there is a hydroelectric power plant." Joel replied. "A...hydra who?" Ellie said, confused. "It, uh...uses the river's movement and turns it into electricity." I answered as we walk up the stairs towards the plant. "How's it do that?" She asked us. "Look. We know what it is, we don't know how it does it." Joel said, annoyed. "All right...how are we getting across?" She asked as we get up the stairs and Joel goes over to a crank and turns it.

As he turns the wheel, half of a thin bridge appears in front of us. "Well, that gets us halfway. If we get the other one up, we'll make it across." Ellie said and Joel looks put towards the water then jumps in it. "I'll find something. Just hang tight." He said and he inhales a deep breath and dives into the water.

"Did you ever get involved with their arguments?" Ellie asked me. I look over my shoulder at her then sighed. "No...I felt like that that was not my place to get involved in. But I did have to intervene a couple of time because they almost got into a physical fight." I replied. "Oh man...." Ellie said, shocked, as Joel comes back up to the surface with a pallet. 

"Alright, Ellie, I need you to--"

"I know, step on the fucking pallet." She said, interrupting him, then she jumps on the pallet and he ferries her over to the other side. "Go on, give it a spin." Joel told her as she jumps up and runs over to the wheel and starts to crank it, making the other half of the bridge appear. Joel swims back over to me and I help him out of the water then both of us walk across the new bridge.

"Hey, be careful crossing that thing." She told us. "We will." I replied to her and we make to the other side to her. "Teamwork." She said as she raised.her right hand. Joel high-fives her and I do the same. "Yeah." She exclaims, happily, and I chuckle under my breath.

We walk through the plant as Ellie said. "Aughh, I'm so hungry." 

"I know. I am too." Joel told her.

"Same here." I chimed in.

"All right, next squirrel I see, I'm totally shooting it." Ellie informed us. "Let's get past this place, then we can scrounge up some food." I told her. "Well, if I starve, you two are responsible." Ellie said and I just shake my head as duck under a fallen tree branch then went around the dam. But the road leading out is blocked by equipment.

"Uh...should we head in?" Ellie asked us as we look up at the large gate in front of us. "Ah, ain't no way around... Gonna have to cut through the plant." Joel said and he goes to try to open the large doors, but then survivors with guns appear at the top.

"Don't even think about reaching for your weapon." A woman's voice said as Ellie pulls out her gun and aims it while Joel steps back from the door. "Tell the girl to drop hers. Now." The woman orders. "Ellie, do as the lady says." Joel told her. Ellie looks over at us then said. "Okay." And she holds up her hands. "Please tell me you're lost." The woman said, still aiming her weapon at us. "We didn't know the place was occupied. We're just trying to make our way through." I told the woman. "Through to where?" She asked us.

"They're alright." A man's voice calls out. "What, you know these people?" The woman asked the man as the gate opens. "I know him and the woman." The man's voice said as he head pokes out, revealing it to be Tommy. "He's my damn brother and she's my sister-in-law." Tommy replied as he looks at us.

"Tommy." Joel and I said in shock.

"Holy shit." Tommy said as he runs out towards us then goes over and hugs Joel. "How you doin', baby brother?" Joel asked him as he hugs his brother. I smile at this as Tommy mutters. "Damn." Then he pulls back from the hug then looks at Joel. "Let me look at you. You got fucking old." He said and I laugh. "Easy--it's gonna happen to you too." Joel said to him. Tommy then goes over to me. "Hey." He said as we hug each other as well. "Hey, Tommy." I whispered as I pat his back.

We pull back from the embrace as he looks me over and said. "Still together, I see." I chuckle and said, in a teasing tone. "Hey, someone's gotta put up with him." Tommy laughs at this, Joel chuckles as well, as the woman, who has short blonde hair, walks up to us. "This is Maria. Be nice to her, she sorta runs things around here." Tommy said, gesturing towards the woman.

"Ma'am. Thanks for not blowing our heads off." Joel said to her. "Would've been embarrassing, considering you two are my brother and sister-in-laws." She said and we look over at Tommy in shock. He has a smile on his face as he looks back at us. "We all gotta get wrangled up at some point." He said, shrugging.

"Ellie, right?" Maria said, looking over at Ellie. "Yeah." She replied. "What brings you through here?" Maria asked her. "Uh...it's kind of a long story." Ellie replied, shaking her head. "Why don't we bring 'em inside?" Tommy said to Maria. "Yeah. You hungry?" Maria said as she looks at Ellie again. "Starving." Ellie replied and all of us enter the compound.

"False alarm. They're friendlies." Maria said to her people and they lower their guns as we follow them towards a building. "We've been dealing with raids. Lot of bandits in this area." Maria told us. "It's been quiet for a few days." Tommy informed us. "What the hell are you doin' here? I thought we'd find you in Jackson." Joel said to his little brother. "Been trying to bring the plant back to life." Tommy replied. "We had it working before, but one of the turbines went south." Maria said. "We have electricity, Joel...had. We'll get it running again." Tommy said as we come up to a person standing next to a horse.

"No way. You guys have horses." Ellie said, excited, as she runs over to it. "We got a whole lot of 'em." Tommy said to her when a man comes up to him. "Hey, Tommy, gimme a hand with this." He said. "Sorry. I'll be right back." Tommy said to us and he walks away as he goes and takes care of his errand.

"Can I?" Ellie asked Maria, pointing at the horse. "Yeah, of course. He likes when you pet his ears." She told her and Ellie goes and pets the horse. "You ever ride one?" Maria asked her. "I actually have." Ellie replied and Joel and I look over at her. "When have you ridden a horse?" He asked her. "Winston, this soldier back in the zone. He gave me lessons." Ellie replied to him. "You know, if you want, we can take him riding later." Maria said to her and Ellie smiles. "That'd be awesome." Ellie said as Tommy walks back over to us.

"All right, let's continue the tour." He said and we continue towards the building. "Maria." A Male's voice said over a radio. "Yeah, go ahead." Maria replied. "We're in the control room. Steve's about to start it back up. Do you wanna come check it out?" The man asked her and she looks down at Ellie. "I'd rather eat with Ellie." She said. "It's my turn anyway. I'll go." Tommy said to her. "(Y/N) and I'll come with you." Joel said to Tommy as I turn to Ellie. "Go with Maria and put some food in you." I said to her. "Guys?" She said to us while Maria places her hand on Ellie's shoulder. "C'mon, Ellie. Let's give them some space." She said to Ellie before she pulls up her radio and said. "I'm sending Tommy over. Stand by." Then she looks at Ellie. "C'mon." She said and the two walk one way while Tommy leads Joel and I to another way.

****

"This'll be the sixth time of them trying to get the turbines back online. We've been here just a week, but it feels like forever." Tommy said as he leads us inside of the building. "Uh...I got something for you two. Last year I went back to Texas -- back home. Most of our stuff was long gone. Most of it. Here." He said as he goes up to a shelf then digs in a backpack and pulls out an object. He turns to us and holds it out to us. Joel takes it and I see that it was a picture of Joel, Sarah and I. "It's a little faded but it still looks pretty good." Tommy said to us, shrugging.

It was taken after she won her soccer game and she was so happy and excited that day. She had her arms raised up, holding her trophy in her left hand, while Joel and I were standing behind her, both of us smiling.

I frown at the picture as I turn my head away from the picture, my heart aching, as Joel looks at then hands the picture back to Tommy. "We're good." Joel said as Tommy takes the picture back. "You sure? I mean..." Tommy started to say but I shake my head at him. "We're good, Tommy." I said, firmly. "Okay. Well, I'll hold onto it for you two." He said as he goes to put up the picture. "Tommy, we...we need to talk to you. Privately." Joel told him.

"Yeah, okay. Let me just check on my guys real quick. C'mon." He said and he leads us through a side door and we walk along a balcony where we see some people below us working on the turbines. "I don't know what you guys heard, but you should see the town. We're over twenty families strong now. It was Maria and her father, they set up this place that had the idea of being self-sustained. We got crops and livestock. Remember how we thought that no one could live like this anymore? Well, we're doing it." He said as we walk on the walkway.

"You two are new around here." A woman's voice said as we walk past her. Joel and I stopped as we turn to her, Tommy continues on. "Yeah, Joel and this (y/n). I'm Tommy's--" Joel starts to introduce but the woman interrupts him. 'Brother and she's your wife. Word travels quickly around these parts." The woman said to us. "Apparently." I said as the woman looks Joel over, which I didn't like the way she was eyeing him. 

"I kind of see the resemblance." She said to him. "I see." Joel mutters as he looks at her, confused. "It's a compliment." The woman said then she looks over at me. "You're a lucky woman. You better keep a better eye on him." The woman said then she walks away, still eyeing Joel. I glare after her, my eyes narrowed, until I hear Joel chuckling under his breath.

"That's a look I haven't seen on you in a long time." He mutters to me. "Yeah..well...it's been a long time since a woman, openly, flirted with you in front of me." I grumbled. Joel smirks a bit at me as he reaches out and pushed back a strand of loose hair behind my ear. "You know you're the only one for me." He said to me and I look up at him and smile. "Damn right." I said and he chuckles again as he leans down and kissed me.

We break the kiss and catch up with Tommy, who was waiting for us. "Making new friends?" He asked us. "Something like that...." I muttered as he continues on with the tour of the building. "What do you do for protection?" Joel asked Tommy. "The adults take turns guarding the perimeter. We even got an electrified fence -- when the plant's up and running." Tommy replied. "You still gotta deal with those infected though, right?" I asked him. "Who doesn't? But that's the world we live in." Tommy said, shrugging. "Well, maybe you don't have to be." Joel said and Tommy chuckles. "You sound like Marlene." He said as we come up to a station that was working on the turbine that wasn't working.

"These two geniuses are gonna bring this plant back to life." Tommy said as he points at the men below. "We think we got it this time." One man said. "You don't believe us?" A second man asked Tommy. "I didn't say that." said Tommy. "I bet you a million bucks it works." The first man said. "Sure. Make it two." Tommy said. "We're almost ready. They just need to finish putting the shield back on." The second man informed. "No rush." Tommy said to the men and they started to get to work until the electricity came on.

Joel and I look around in the room as one of the men exclaims. "We did it, boys!" And they start to clap themselves on the back. "Nice work, boys. Somebody get on the horn and give Maria the good news." Tommy said to the men then we begin to walk down a set of stairs. "You two see that?" He asked us. "It's pretty impressive. Looks like you're out two million bucks." Joel said to his brother and Tommy laughs. "Alright, you two. Let's go talk." Tommy said and he leads us into an office.

"That's quite the crew you got here." I said to Tommy as we enter the room and Tommy shuts the door behind us. "They're good men. This place gives 'em a second chance. It gives us all a second chance." Tommy said as he pulls up a couple of chairs for us. Joel and I sit down in the chairs as Tommy grabs his own and sits in it. "So, why'd you guys leave Boston?" Tommy asked us, making Joel and I chuckle. "We've been on quite the adventure, little brother." Joel replied. "I reckon it's got something to do with that girl." Tommy said, referring to Ellie. "Oh, it's got everything to do with that little girl." I said to him.

"Well, go on then." Tommy said to us. "She's immune." Joel admits and Tommy looks at us, confused. "Immune to what?" He asked us. We giving him a knowing look and he scoffs and shakes his head. "Oh, c'mon." He mutters in disbelief. "See, I know...we've seen her breathe enough spores to take down a dozen men and nnothing. We wouldn't have believed it neither, but we can show you." Joel replied.

"Alright. I'll bite. Why bring her here?" Tommy asked us. "We were supposed to deliver her to the Fireflies...The way Joel and I figured it, they're your boys, you finish the job and collect the whole damn payment." I said to him. "I haven't seen a Firefly in years." Tommy informed. "But you know where they are. Now we're not asking for much, Tommy. We just want some simple gear -- enough to set us on our way." Joel said to him.

"What makes you think I'd do this for you?" Tommy asked. "This isn't for us, Tommy. This is for your damn cause." Joel said as he gestures between me and him. "My cause is my family now. You ain't talking about some walk in the park here." Tommy said to us. "Jesus, boy...have Maria get some of your born again friends to do it." Joel said, angrily. "They got families too." Tommy said.

"Tommy, we need this." I told him and he looks between us. "You guys want some gear, sure. But I ain't taking that girl off your hands." Tommy informed us. "This is how you gonna repay me...huh?" Joel asked, angrily, as he stands up from his chair and Tommy stands up to his brother. 

"Repay you?" Tommy said to Joel, confused. "For all those years I took care of us." Joel said to him, sternly, as I just look between the two men. "Took care? That's what you call it? I got nothing but nightmares from those years." Tommy growled at Joel. "You survived because of me." Joel yelled at him. Tommy shakes his head and said. "It wasn't worth it."

Then Joel pushed Tommy against a large filing cabinet. "Fuck." I muttered as I get up, run and stand in front of Joel, placing my hands on his chest and lightly pushed him away from Tommy, who looked at his brother in anger. "Joel...calm down." I whispered while Joel continues to glare at Tommy. "(Y/n) and I bring you the cure for mankind and you wanna play the pissy little brother?" He asked, angrily. "We ain't back in Boston. You lay your hands on me again it won't end well for you." Tommy threatened and the two brother glare at each other until we hear a siren go off.

"The hell is that?" I asked Tommy. "We're under attack." Tommy replied as he pulls out his gun then looks at us. "You two still remember how to kill, right?" He asked. "Yeah." Joel and I replied and the three of us run out of the office to face some bandits running towards us. We shoot them and kill them and make our way through the building then out on a bridge. "Tommy! Bandits, they're breaking into the building." Maria's voice said over Tommy's radio. "Can you get out of there?" Tommy asked her. "No, we're trapped." Maria replied. "We're gonna come to you, just stay--" Tommy started to say but Maria talks over him. "They're here. Ellie, hide!" She shouts and her call cuts out. 

"Maria! Damnit! We gotta get to the girls!" Tommy said to us and we nod at him and shoot at any bandit we see. We enter a building and make our way into a cafeteria and shoot a few more bandits. "They're all dead." We hear Ellie exclaimed as her and Maria come out from their hiding place.

"Tommy?" Maria said.

"Maria!" Tommy exclaims as he runs over to her. "I'm alright. The kid's with me!" She said to us. "That was too damn close." Joel said and we go over to Ellie. "Joel! (Y/n)! Oh man...They were coming in from every direction--" she starts to explain really fast. 

"Okay." I said but she continues to talk.

"then Maria was like We gotta run!--"

"Listen..." Joel said.

"...and so we dove over these tables and this huge guy blasts in with a shotgun--" Ellie said really fast as Joel places his hands on her shoulders. "Slow down, slow down. Listen--" He said to her, calmly, and she looks up at us. "Are you hurt?" I asked her. "No." She replied, shaking her head.

****

Later, Joel and I were sitting on some barrels as we hear Tommy talking to Maria about how he was gonna take Ellie to the Fireflies. "Absolutely not. You tell them to go find somebody else." Maria yelled at Tommy. "Maria, I can't have this hanging over my head." Tommy said to her. "Do you have any idea how many men we lost here today?" Maria asked as I look over at Joel.

"Joel...are we doing the right thing?" I asked him. "Yes. This job has gone on way too long. We need to get back home before something happens to us." He mutters to me as Ellie walks up to us. "Hey, what's that all about?" She asked as she gestures towards Tommy and Maria. We don't answer her then she looks at us. "Does that have anything to do with me?" She asked. "We'll talk about it later." I said to her. "Did he tell you guys where the lab is?" She asked us. "We'll talk about it later." Joel said to her, firmly. She stares at us for a moment then said. "Later... Right." And she walks away from us.

"It takes one. One fuck up. One fuck up and then I turn into one of those widows, okay?" Maria yells at Tommy. He shakes his head at her. "I have to do this. I don't know what else to say." He said to her. She stares at him then said. "Fine." Then she walks away from him.

"Maria. Maria!" Tommy shouts as she stomps over to us.

"Here we go." Joel mutters as we stand up and she gets in front of us. "You two. If anything -- anything at all happens to him, it's on both of you." She growls at us then she stomps away from us.

"She's thankful, you know." Tommy tries to assure us. "Yeah, I know." Joel mutters. "I don't blame her. Believe me, if the roles were reversed, I would do the same thing." I said to him. "I'll take that girl of yours to the Fireflies. You two don't have to worry about it." Tommy said to us. "It's best this way." Joel said. "Maybe some real good will come of this." Tommy said. "We need to talk to Ellie." I told Joel and he nods as Tommy picks his radio and starts to talk through it.

"Joel! (Y/n)!" He shouts as he comes back over to us. "What...what is it?" Joel asked him. "That girl of yours, she took one of our horses and rode off." Tommy replied. "Damn it." I muttered, angrily. "Which way?" Joel asked him. "C'mon." Tommy said and the three of us head towards the front gate.

"I saw her riding on outta here." A guy said as he brings us two horses. "Go back inside. Help the others clean the place up." Tommy told the guy as he gets on one horse and Joel and I get on the second horse. "Okay. Be careful out there." The man said as the gates open and we gallop out of the compound.

"Easy, easy." Joel said to our horse as he steers it, and I hold onto Joel, following Tommy. "There." Tommy said as he points at the ground. "Yeah." Joel and I said as we see horse tracks in the door. "See the tracks? C'mon." Tommy said as we ride down the deserted, overgrown highway. "She couldn't have gotten far. We'll find her. Don't worry." Tommy said to us. "Stubborn kid." Joel grumbles.

"She usually pull these stunts?" Tommy asked us. "Nothing like this. We don't know what's going on." I told him as we come up to a huge blockage of the highway. "She didn't go down this way. Horse tracks. She went into these woods." Tommy said and Joel and Tommy steer the horse around and go into a side road that leads into the woods. 

"Ellie, what're you thinking?" I muttered as Joel looks down at the road a d shouts. "There. More tracks." 

"Okay, good." Tommy said as we continue on until we heard something to our side. I look over and see some hunters running towards us. "Uh, boys! We've got company!" I yelled and they look towards the woods and see some aiming guns at us. "Shit!" Tommy grumbled as I pull out my gun and start to fire at them. They start to fire at us as well and Joel and Tommy stop the horses and we get down and finish the shootout with the hunters.

After eliminate them, we take a breath. "We must've passed one of their encampment." Tommy said to us. "C'mon, let's get back to the horses." Joel said and we mount the horses and continue on. "Tracks keep going this way. Just hope they didn't get to her." Joel said as we see some more tracks.

We followed them until we came upon a mountain ranchhouse. "Look, by the ranch. That's our horse. She's gotta be there." Tommy said as we get up to the front of the house. "Area looks clear." I said as we get up to the front of the house and get off the horse. "Be careful." Tommy warned us as Joel and I go to the front door.

"Ellie? Ellie?!" He and I called out after he opens the door and we run inside. "I'm up here." We hear her voice say from upstairs. I sighed with relief while Joel swears under his breath. "I'll keep an eye out. Reckon you guys need to have a chat." Tommy said to us and we nod at him as we go up the stairs. 

Both of us enter an old bedroom of a girl when we hear Ellie speak. "Is this really all they had to worry about?" She asked as we see her sitting by a large window and reading a diary. "Boys. Movies. Deciding which shirt goes with which skirt? It's bizarre." She said as she looks through the diary. "Get up, we're leaving. C'mon." Joel said as he gestures towards the door. 

Ellie sets the diary down and looks up at us. "And if I say no?" She asked us, harshly. "Do you even realize what your life means? Huh? Running off like that. Putting yourself at risk...it's pretty fuckin' stupid." I said to her, angrily. "Well, I guess we're all disappointed with each other then." Ellie growled at us.

"What do you want from us?" Joel asked her. "Admit that you guys wanted to get rid of me the whole time." She replied to him.

"Tommy knows this area better than--" 

"Agh, fuck that." Ellie exclaimed, interrupting me, as she stands up and takes a few steps forward, placing her hands over her face. "Well, I'm sorry, we trust him better than we trust ourselves." Joel shouts at her. "Stop with the bullshit. What are you two so afraid of? That I'm gonna end up like Sam? I can't get infected. I can take care of myself." Ellie said to us.

"How many close calls have we had?" I asked her, angrily. "Well, we seem to be doing alright so far." Ellie replied, annoyed. "And now you'll be doing even better with Tommy." Joel shouts at her then he turns his back to her as I place my hand over my eyes. 

"I'm not her, you know." Ellie mutters, making Joel and I turn to her. "What?" We said in unison to her. She looks at us and said. "Maria told me about Sarah. And I--" And that right there, hit a nerve on both of us.

"Ellie." I said, in a warning tone. "You are treading on some mighty thin ice here." Joel threatened her. "I'm sorry about your daughter, guys, but I have lost people too." Ellie said to us. "You have no idea what loss is." Joel said in a low harsh voice as I glare at her.

"Everyone I have cared for has either died or left me. Everyone..." she said then she shoves us in her frustration. "....fucking except for you two. So don't tell me that I would be safer with someone else -- because the truth is I'd just be more scared." She admits as she looks at us, frightened.

"You're right... You're not our daughter." I said in a harsh whisper. "And we sure as hell ain't your mom and dad. And we are going our separate ways." Joel told her just as the door opens behind us and Tommy runs in. "Get it together. We're not alone." He said and Joel runs over to the window and looks out. "I got two walking in." He said. "There's more inside already." Tommy said and Joel and I get our guns out and start to slowly make our way out of the room.

Some of the hunters came up the stairs but we shot them in the head, but that alerted their friends and they ran up the stairs. Easily, we took them out then ran down the stairs and towards the front door. "Let's get back to the horses." Tommy said as Joel goes outside first and looks around. "We're clear." He said and Tommy and I walk out of the house.

Meanwhile, Ellie walks out of the house and gives us the silent treatment as she goes over to her horse. "You want a hand up?" Tommy asked her. "I got it. C'mon..." she replied in a defeated tone as she mounts the horse. Tommy gets on his horse then Joel and I mount ours and we start to head back. 

As we follow Tommy, I look over at Ellie and noticed that she looked really sad, and seeing this made me feel extremely guilty of what Joel and I said to her. I turn my head to see Joel was looking at her too. "Joel..." I whispered and he looks over his shoulder at me. I sigh, close my eyes for a moment, then open them as I look back at him. "We have to..." I whispered but then he placed his hand over my hand, which was on top of his shoulder. "I know." He whispered back at me as we come upon a hill that over looks the city of Jackson.

"Easy...easy... Whoa..." Tommy said to his horse as we stop at the edge of the hill. "There she is. Kids'll be watching movies tonight." Tommy said, pointing at the city below. I lean my chin on Joel's shoulder and my arms wrapped around him as I look down at the city with a smile.

"Where is this lab of theirs?" Joel asked Tommy. "It's all the way out -- University of Eastern Colorado." Tommy replied. "Go Big Horns." Joel mutters and I chuckled. He looks over at me and gives me a curt nod and I turn to look at Ellie. "Ellie, get off your horse, give it on back to Tommy." I said to her and she looks over at us in shock.

"We're gonna hang onto this fella, if that's alright with you." Joel said as he pats the horse. I look back over at Ellie, who hadn't moved, and said. "Go on. Don't make me repeat myself." She gets off of her horse and walks over to Tommy.

"What are you guys doin'?" Tommy asked us. "Your wife kinda scares me. I don't want her coming after us." Joel replied with a small smile. 

"Sorry for stealing your horse." Ellie said as she holds up the reins of her horse towards Tommy. "Look, come back to town, let's discuss it at least." Tommy said to us as he takes the reigns and Ellie walks over to us and I help her up on the horse. "Eh, you know me. My mind's all made up." Joel said. "University Eastern Colorado. How do we find this lab?" I asked Tommy. "It's in the science building, looks like a giant mirror, you can't miss it." Tommy replied and Joel and I nod at this.

"You take care of that wife of yours." Joel said to Tommy. "There's a place for both of you here, you know." Tommy said to us. We nod at him response then I look over my shoulder at Ellie and asked. "You good?" She nods and said. "I'm good." 

I smiled as Joel looks back at his brother. "Adios, little brother." He said as I wave at him. "Hey, and you take care of your wife too, Joel." Tommy said and Joel smirks. "I always do." He said then he picks up the reins and said to the horse. "C'mon." And the horse turns around and we head off to our next destination.

[artyblogs]

Across the Frozen Sea ch8

Star Wars the Clone Wars, Ahsoka/Barriss/Riyo

Across the Frozen Sea summary: Ahsoka, Barriss, and Riyo find themselves stranded in the Pantoran Taiga. They must get back to civilization, but the wilds are more dangerous than they realize. If the cold doesn’t get them, the locals will.

First Chapter : Previous Chapter : Next Chapter : Last Chapter

Chapter 8: Defiance, Pantora

Riyo could fit comfortably in any speeder trunk. Barriss probably could too. Fitting all three of them into a trunk at the same time? Nigh impossible, and yet here they are. Ahsoka's neck is bent at an odd angle and her legs are crammed into one corner of the trunk in order to fit. Riyo's legs are folded up to her chest, and Barriss' torso is twisted to what looks like an uncomfortable degree. But it doesn't seem to bother her at all.

"Mirialans have a average of thirty-five vertebrae, while most other near-human species have an average of thirty. This actually isn't that bad," Barriss had said. And thus they were all able to fit in this speeder trunk.

It's dark and cramped, and now and then they're jostled as the speeder goes over dips and bumps in the road. Five minutes into this, Ahsoka asks a question.

"You know how Aguta was kinda sorta off her rocker and how she thought she was doing the right thing? We're not…you know…like her, are we? We're not going Dark because we want to leave the Order, right?"

An uncomfortable silence fills the trunk fit to burst, which is impressive, considering how they're packed in here. Riyo doesn't need the Force to figure how uncomfortable Barriss must suddenly feel.

"You don't know how much I have agonized over that question, but while I'm still trying to finalize my counter-argument, at least I have one." Barriss pauses. "If we were to follow Priestess Aguta's example and succumb to the Dark, then we would use the Force to commit crimes against nature to strong-arm the Order into stopping the Clone Wars. But we're not going to do that. To attempt to do so would be delusional and horrific."

She pauses again.

"Barriss?" Riyo asks.

"Apologies, I just felt the strangest thing in the Force, but it's passed now. Did you feel it too, Ahsoka?"

"Yeah, weird. But it wasn't a premonition or anything. It's probably nothing," Ahsoka says. Barriss hums.

"As I was saying, we're not going to do that. Plenty people do their best to make the galaxy a better place and they do it without Force-sensitivity or the Order's blessing, and plenty of Jedi act without the Council's permission anyway."

Barriss beings to rattle off a list of AWOL Jedi and what they've done, and she and Ahsoka discuss these Jedi and how the path they're on isn't so unpaved after all, but it's hard to follow without context. Eventually, Riyo finds herself rocked to sleep.

"Why are we here?" Ahsoka asks, waking Riyo up. She doesn't know how long she's been asleep, but judging from the numb state of her legs, it must have been maybe half an hour.

Instead of stretching in such a small space, Riyo clenches her muscles for a few seconds and relaxes with a sigh. "Existentially?"

Ahsoka chuckles and shifts into a more comfortable position. "No, smart ass. Why are we in this trunk?"

Riyo smiles against Barriss's shoulder. "If this mysterious Patron was able to blanket the Breede River, then they can also blanket the perimeter of Defiance. If we just walked in, they would have to run my identichip and then they would find us. If the Mother Moon Priestesses smuggle us in like this, then my identichip wouldn't be run. We also wouldn't be spotted, so there won't be any chance of anyone recognizing us like Mrs. Kortzeer did."

"I'm also assuming that the Mother Moon Priestesses enjoy a sterling reputation. No one would dare bother them," Barriss says from somewhere over Riyo's head.

"Yes. Checkpoints do tend to expedite priests and priestesses with minimal fuss."

The speeder slows and stops, cutting the conversation short. The three of them strain to listen to the muffled voices coming from outside the speeder, and after bit of protesting and terse answers, the trunk pops open to reveal several bounty hunters and Kupun. One of the bounty hunters has his blaster trained on Kupun to keep her from moving.

Beyond them are other speeders and pickups queued up to go through the checkpoint. A man and a woman in the pickup behind them stick their heads out of the windows to get a better look at Riyo and the Jedi huddled in the trunk.

CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. The bounty hunters pull out their blasters and arm them as Riyo and the Jedi are revealed. To let her eyes adjust, Riyo raises her hand to block out the copious amount of sunlight that now pours into the trunk. In response to the blasters, the couple in the pickup hurriedly roll up their windows and make a three-point turn to get away. The speeder behind them does the same.

"You have to be joking," Riyo mutters.

Kupun wrings her hands nervously. "Sorry, my friend. I don't know how they knew."

"Find My Data Pad," one of the bounty hunters says. His voice is muffled by his helmet.

"Pardon?" Barriss asks weakly.

"You took one of our associate's data pads, and we used the 'Find My Data Pad' function to track you." The bounty hunter says. Ahsoka and Barriss look at Riyo, who drags her hands down her face.

No.

She had a plan! It was a good plan! How? How could she not account for something like Find My Data Pad? The hell kind of bounty hunter uses Find My Data Pad on their burner anyway? Burners aren't supposed to have that function activated! Gods damn it! Gods damn it all, and damn that stupid, sloppy, third-rate, sorry excuse for a bounty hunter!

A long stream of Pantoran swears falls unbidden from Riyo's mouth. Barriss stares, absolutely scandalized, and Ahsoka's eyebrow markings go up, but Riyo doesn't stop. The nearest bounty hunter simply tilts his head as he listens to her tirade, and the bounty hunter guarding Kupun lowers his blaster and doubles over laughing.

Riyo sighs as she winds down. Ah, that's better.

"Are you done with your tantrum, Senator?" The bounty hunter asks.

"Yes," Riyo says.

The trunk lid slams shut, casting them in darkness once again. Riyo and Barriss gasp, but Ahsoka says nothing. She must have closed it with the Force, and keeps it closed now by sheer physical strength, even though the bounty hunters are shouting at each other and furiously trying to pry it open. If Riyo wasn't so terrified, she'd think it was a shame they couldn't see Ahsoka flex.

"Yeah, here's the plan," Ahsoka says, sounding as if they're simply going on a grocery run instead of fighting their way out of mortal peril.

"You have a plan for this scenario? That's incredibly thorough," Barriss says.

"Not prepared; I made it up just now. I'm going to bust out of here and give them a fight. While I'm doing that, you guys get into the cabin of the speeder and drive off. Wait, can either of you drive?"

"Yes," Barriss and Riyo say at the same time.

"Although I don't know my way around Defiance," Barriss says.

"I do. I can drive us right to Sprekker's house, then we can deliver the evidence against the Patron, and he can help us make the arrest," Riyo says.

"Cool. One, two, three, go!" Ahsoka rips the trunk lid from the rest of the speeder with a mighty wrench and shoves it away, sending it and all the bounty hunters flying through the air and sprawling several feet out. Kupun, who stands off to the side, watches the display with a slack jaw.

"Go? What do you mean 'go?' Was that was your entire plan?" Barriss shouts, even as Ahsoka unfolds her legs, grabs the edge of the trunk, and launches herself out towards the bounty hunters.

SHVOOM.

Ahsoka's lightsabers ignite with a deadly hum, cutting one of them down immediately. The other bounty hunters scramble away from her. Kupun squeaks and flees into the brush off the side of the road. The queue of speeders quickly disperses in a roar of engines.

"All right, I suppose we are doing this now." Barriss grimaces as she extracts herself from the trunk and tugs on Riyo's hands to pull her up. "Priestess Kupun, I'm afraid we'll be commandeering your speeder!"

Kupun waves it away from her place behind the brush. "Yes, by all means, go! I'll be fine."

Riyo slides into the driver's seat and slams the door closed. She turns the engine on and shifts it into gear.

VROOM. Riyo floors the gas pedal and turns the wheel, making the speeder spin out in a donut. In the passenger seat, Barriss screams and braces herself against the door. Ahsoka jumps and does a somersault to avoid the end of the speeder, and most of the remaining bounty hunters are able to dodge out of the way, but one of them gets rammed and is thrown several feet. He lands with a crunch and doesn't get up.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Barriss asks. She grips the overhead handle and stares at Riyo in awe.

"One of my uncles is a getaway driver and he taught me a few tricks," Riyo says. She leans out of the window and yells. "Ahsoka! Get in!"

Ahsoka grins and slides into the back seat. Barriss fastens her seatbelt with shaky hands.

Riyo shifts gear again and peals through the checkpoint, crashing through the flimsy gate and roaring into Defiance at several times the speed limit.

Defiance is one of the largest cities on Pantora, boasting a population of about eight million. Skyscrapers tower around them, and weaving around the buildings are streams of airspeeders. Riyo bulls her way through the traffic covering the ground of the city, driving through gaps in the lines of land speeders and even onto sections of sidewalk. Pedestrians curse and dive out of the way.

"Is it necessary to go this fast?" Barriss yells over the screams and the blaring horn honks. Now and then, the sides of the speeder scrape against the duracrete buildings. Riyo understands why Barriss might be so concerned, but really, she knows what she's doing.

"We should be going faster," Ahsoka says. She watches through the rear window. A few of the bounty hunters ride hover bikes through the chaos they've left behind and the passengers level their blasters at them.

PEW PEW.

The three of them duck as the rear window shatters. Ahsoka swears and uses her armored arm to clear the window of the remaining glass. The sleeve of her parka rips a little, but Ahsoka doesn't notice. Riyo spins the wheel, making a hard turn down an alleyway.

Out of sky, one of the airspeeders descends from the traffic above to hover before them. It's full of more bounty hunters, and a couple of the passengers lean out of the windows with their blasters.

PEW PEW PEW.

"Eish!" Riyo shouts as a few bolts burn holes in the hood of the speeder. "Ahsoka, they're trying to shoot out the engine!"

"Kinda busy over here!" Ahsoka wriggles through the rear window of the speeder with her lightsaber in hand and climbs into the empty trunk, deflecting blaster bolts the entire time.

Riyo spares a glance at Barriss as they merge back onto a major street. They cut in front of a speeder bus and get a deafening long honk in return. "You'll have to do it."

"I was afraid you'd say that." Barriss reluctantly unclips her seatbelt and rolls down the window, muttering, "I am one with the Force, the Force is with me," over and over again. She climbs halfway out the window and sits on the door, then takes out her lightsaber.

PSSHEW.

Barriss begins blocking blaster bolts in earnest, but now, Riyo's vision is filled with a whirling blue light. She slouches down in her seat in order to better see, and keeps driving down one of the broad avenues of the city.

Despite Riyo's efforts, the hover bikes catch up to the speeder. Using the Force, Ahsoka throws her shoto blade first into the engine of the nearest hover bike and summons it back.

BOOM. The hover bike explodes, sending the two riders, and a ball of fire and smoke, up into the air. Ahsoka catches her shoto and turns, but the other bike has already swerved away.

THUMP. THWOCK.

Two durasteel grappling hooks burst through the roof of the speeder. They're attached to heavy chains leading to the airspeeder above them. The airspeeder's exhausts open up and blaze brighter as it tries to fly up and take them off the ground.

Riyo tries to turn, but finds the handling already somewhat compromised. "We're no better than a fish on a line!"

Barriss chops at the chains, sending hot sparks everywhere, but the chains remain undamaged. She and Ahsoka share a panicked look over the roof of the speeder.

"Eish! I've lost control," Riyo shouts. "We're lifted too far from the ground for the anti-grav to catch."

The land speeder lifts seven feet off the ground and lists as it's dragged through the air. Barriss digs her fingers into a ripple in the roof in order to keep from falling out, and Ahsoka reaches through the rear window and grabs one of the seatbelts.

"We should bail. We'll sneak to Sprekker instead," Ahsoka says, and she slides back into the speeder.

"We're going too fast for that!" Barriss follows her back into the speeder and finds Ahsoka strapping herself into a seat.

"What are you doing?"

"When I say 'go,' we're going to cut the roof clean off. You should buckle up."

"Of all the foolhardy things…." Barriss mutters as he fastens her seatbelt again. Riyo also buckles in.

"Ready?"

"Ready," Barriss and Riyo say.

"Go."

SCHVOOM. All three of their lightsabers whirl through the cabin, cutting through the pillars of the cabin ceiling and the windows. Riyo winces as Barriss' heated blade passes over the top of her head. The speeder begins to fall, and the cabin opens up, letting in the cool wind. They bounce on a parked speeder, breaking the remains of the windows, before landing on the ground again, and skid to a complete stop in the middle of the intersection.

"Riyo?" Ahsoka nervously asks as the airspeeder stops down the street and spins around. The dangling chains, still clamped to the discarded speeder roof, swing out as the airspeed turns.

"The engine stalled!" Riyo furiously pushes the start button again and again, but the engine won't turn. The traffic around them clears out, with some of the other drivers taking turns to avoid the intersection.

"We should run," Barriss says.

"We won't get far," Ahsoka says.

"Please, please, please. Please work." Riyo presses the button again and holds it down. She doesn't know who exactly she's praying to, but she's praying all the same.

CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK-VROOM. The engine roars to life and Riyo shouts.

"Yes! There you are!"

Riyo shifts gears, braces herself against the passenger seat and looks over her shoulder. She floors the pedal and the speeder lurches backwards down a side street. Barriss clenches on the armrests so hard she leaves fingernail indents, but Ahsoka whoops. Other speeders swerve out of the way and honk, but Riyo keeps going until she makes a turn into a parking garage.

Riyo pulls on the brake and the car spins around until she shifts gears again and zooms forward into the parking garage. Thankfully, the garage is blissfully empty of people, and Riyo eases the speeder into a parking spot and cuts the engine.

BOOM. The speeder falls gracelessly to the ground, never to hover again.

"Can I just…thanks." Ahsoka unfastens her seatbelt, reaches over and delves into the front of Riyo's coat. Riyo is frozen in her seat from shock.

"I'm very flattered, Ahsoka, but can you buy me dinner first?" Riyo manages to ask.

"Ha ha." Ahsoka's lekku stripes turn dark, dark blue, but she keeps patting Riyo down. She pulls out the Leopard's data pad and throws it onto the duracrete floor, where the screen shatters, then she hops out and smashes the data pad under her boot heel.

CRUNCH. The screen of the data pad flickers and goes out.

"What are you doing? That was our only evidence!" Riyo shouts.

Ahsoka squats down next to the remains of the data pad and picks through it for the memory card. When she finds it, she holds it up triumphantly between her thumb and forefinger and goes to place it into Riyo's hand.

"There you go. All the evidence without the tracking."

"Oh. Thank you." Riyo's ears burn, and Ahsoka smirks.

"I'm going to slice us a replacement speeder," Ahsoka says.

"I was hoping you would say that. Barriss, are you all right?" Riyo turns to her pale and shaking friend sitting in the passenger seat.

"Fine," Barriss weakly says. "You're a better driver than I thought, Riyo."

"Thank you! But I'm not nearly as good as my uncle's associates. They can drive."

"I suppose they would have to, in order to escape law enforcement," Barriss mutters.

"Ooh, look at this flitter!" Ahsoka races over to a shiny luxury speeder that's parked across four spaces.

Riyo drops the memory card into her pocket and opens the door to leave the broken speeder. "We can't all fit in there."

"Then we could use that Elektra over there." Ahsoka points out a blue and red speeder further down the aisle.

Barriss groans as she eases herself out of the speeder too. "Those are notoriously unsafe. What about a Corellian? Corellian speeders are reliable."

Ahsoka sighs and reluctantly gestures to a dented, scratched, and bulky air speeder. "I'm sure all those extra seats will come in handy when we pick up our younglings from their grav-ball practice," she says in monotone.

Riyo laughs. "I'd prefer not to steal the speeder that obviously belongs to a family."

"Then I'll steal a kriffin' douche's speeder. The flitter it is!" Ahsoka hops into the driver's seat of the double-parked speeder and pries one of the dashboard panels open with the Force.

"That'll get us noticed for sure," Riyo says, but Ahsoka is already pressing the panel back in place and pressing the start button. The engine roars to life, the sound filling up the duracrete parking structure. Ahsoka's eyes light up and she shoots them a toothy grin from behind the steering wheel. She's practically bouncing in her seat.

Barriss covers her mouth to hide a giggle.

"How can anyone say 'no' to that face?" Riyo mutters.

"Well, the both of us are small enough; we could share the other seat," Barriss says.

In order for all of them to fit in the airspeeder, Riyo must sit in Barriss' lap, with her arm around her neck. Ahsoka drives up to the roof of the parking structure and takes off, joining the other airspeeders as they zoom around the city. The wind whips into their faces, making their lined hoods bellow behind them. Barriss is strangely quiet, and Riyo hopes that it isn't because she's too heavy.

They ease into a stop at a red light, and as they hover, other speeders pull up alongside them. The rumble of their engines fill their ears. Barriss pulls the hem of her cloak over her mouth and nose in an attempt to block out the stench of fuel and smoke. Another driver gives Ahsoka a thumbs up to congratulate her on the speeder, and Ahsoka grins back.

"Where are we going?" She asks.

Riyo gives her directions using landmarks, not street names, because Ahsoka can't read the signs. Ahsoka nods and when the light turns green, she flies the airspeeder accordingly. Without the threat of the bounty hunters, Defiance fully opens up to them. There are stores and restaurants and food stands. There are temples scattered throughout the city, each one identifiable to a particular god by their design. Pantorans speak in their dialects all around them, and they fly by billboards and ads unique only to Pantora. Riyo translates what she can.

"It's way different during the day," Ahsoka softly says. "Your university is in this city, right?"

"Yes, that's correct. The University of Defiance, Ikiak School of Law. We can visit it later, if you want," Riyo says.

Ahsoka gives a lopsided smile as she flies the speeder out of the downtown area and towards the other end of the city, where the buildings are much shorter and less cramped together. Out near the other edge of Defiance are tall hills, and built on those hills are the houses and complexes owned and rented by Pantora's affluent citizens.

The neighborhood is entirely made up of large, extravagant houses, which are mostly hidden behind tall fences, trees, and hedges. Snow blankets the roofs and the lawns. Ice frosts the windows, obscuring the rooms within, and it colors the duracrete dark with dangerous patches. Here, the streets are wide, already plowed free of snow, and empty of people save for the brave dogwalkers.

Ahsoka parks their stolen speeder along the curb. They get out and follow Riyo down the street and past the wrought iron gate of one of the houses.

"I've never been to Sprekker's house, but I know his address," Riyo whispers.

While the neighborhood was already quiet, all sounds seem more muffled as soon as they step past the gate. The air within the property is still, as if waiting. The three of them walk up the long driveway to the front door. Parked outside is a dark speeder, and Ahsoka puts her hand on the hood.

"It's still warm. He must have just gotten back from the Summit," Ahsoka says.

"He's home!" Riyo smiles at them and rings the doorbell.

After a few seconds, there's the scrape of the lock and the doors open to reveal a serious man with light blue hair and a short beard. Gold streaks radiate across his forehead from between his eyebrows. His suit jacket is missing and the top two buttons of his shirt collar are undone.

"Riyo? Is that really you?" the man asks in a low voice.

"Yes, Sprekker, it is. May we come in? There are bounty hunters after us," Riyo says.

Sprekker steps to the side and invites them in with a sweep of his arm. "I can't believe it! You say bounty hunters are behind your disappearance? They didn't follow you here, did they?"

"No, we got rid of them. My friends made sure of that," Riyo says. She looks around the vast foyer and sees a familiar sigil painting done in blood, only this one must be about six meters tall.

"Master Jedi. Thank you for protecting Riyo. She's nigh indispensable in these trying times. Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Sprekker asks Ahsoka and Barriss before shutting the door behind them.

"Would you happen to know who is heading the investigation into Riyo's disappearance? We may have key evidence that could lead straight to whoever is responsible," Barriss says.

"Eish! Yes, I do. Something like that, it would change everything," Sprekker says. He holds out his hand. "I profess I am curious. May I see this evidence?"

But instead of offering the memory card, Riyo stares entranced at the sigil painting.

"What is it?" Ahsoka asks. She and Barriss go to Riyo's side and stare at the painting too.

"I don't understand. This painting belonged to Chairman Cho. He willed it to his son. Sprekker, why is it here, and not with Rommeruk?"

PEW.

Ahsoka, Barriss, and Riyo are enveloped in blue light. They fall to the floor, unconscious. Behind them, still standing at the door, Sprekker lowers a derringer blaster and casually takes a crystal whiskey glass from a nearby table. He swirls the amber contents around and tips it back into his mouth.

Want to read this on Ao3 or on FF.net? Click here for the links. 

[tarithenurse]

I see you - Ch. 10

Pairing: Heimdal x fem!readerContents: the usual fluffy piningA/N: I’m rather distracted this weekend by my hubby finally being able to visit me from his country, so don’t expect a whole lot of action from me.

Ch. 10 – Ain’t no mountain high enough

You can feel the difference the regenerator makes in the healing process. Three days with treatment, but today is going to be without it.

When you’d woken up the first time in Asgard, you’d been wrapped in stiff bandages to support the many broken ribs, and your arm and both legs had been broken in several places (technically one of those places what the hip and not the leg itself, but it hadn’t mattered much then).

Now however, the extra layers that had supported and protected the healing bones were gone. Breathing deeply, you’re finally standing on your own in a proper bathroom without the fear that you’ll collapse all of a sudden.

Three treatments in the cradle. Each one had left you exhausted, your body burning with the heat of electricity, and it had lingered long into the night, making you cranky and draining every bit of energy that wasn’t used for walking back and forth in the room with two healers ready to catch you. When you didn’t do any of that, you slept, only waking up a few times to see that Heimdal was dozing in the chair next to the bed, or that he’d been around, leaving some token behind instead of waking you. First it had simply been a note, saying that her sister was doing well and that he would come by later to entertain her. Another time it’d been a book with old stories and myth of the Asgardian people. Then flowers, strangely familiar and yet alien at the same time.

Today, you say to yourself, today I’ll stay awake. Wriggling out of the light hospital-like gown, you look over at the stack of clean clothes that Frigga has provided you with. There’s no doubt, they’ll be nothing like you owned at home, but you can’t wait to wear them. Anything to be less like a patient and more like a person.

The shower is true to the grandiose style of the city beyond your window. Like a waterfall, it springs from the stone wall, cascading onto you and the marble floor in a soft, warm stream that washes away the last bits of mustiness that had build up under the bandages although they’d been changed frequently. Oh, gods, it’s good. Rubbing your scalp and hair with plenty of shampoo, you realize that a haircut is long overdue. Maybe you will leave it long this time? Change it up, just like your life has been? The possibilities seem endless and the freedom to choose anything makes you smile. All in all, life has taken a turn for the better since you left your hometown. Sure, getting squished by a giant, alien “leviathan” hadn’t been ideal, but you’re alive, recovering well…and you’ve gotten to see more than you could ever have imagined.

Once clean and dry, you dress in what you assume must be Asgardian fashion, to you it could’ve been taken straight from a renaissance fair or a fairy tale. At least the queen has provided you with pants. Tight and made of leather, which seems a bit daring. But it’s much better than having to move around in one of those long dresses the women seem to favour around here. A soft tunic goes over that, and once you’ve wrapped a leather belt around your waist, it’s hard not to nod approvingly at your reflection in the mirror. Lookin’ good.

…

Rechecking that everything is prepared, Heimdal can’t help but feel a bit nervous. The queen had been kind enough to divulge the plan for [Y/N]’s treatment, granting him an opportunity to plan ahead. Ready. With a satisfied smile, he strides off to handle the next phase of the plan.

By the time he reaches the door to the Midgardian’s chamber, an apprehension unlike anything he has felt since he was a young man is hammering inside his chest. He knocks for once, and the answer comes promptly, urging him to enter.

Not sure what to expect, it’s a pleasant surprise to see the woman sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in leather and delicately embroidered linen. The cool purple of the tunic is broken by thin lines of gold and yet…it cannot distract from the glory of [Y/N]’s smiling face and sparkling eyes that greet him unwavering. She’s…exquisite. Sure, the clothes are simple, nothing worth bragging about, so rather it’s the concept of this woman, radiant with life and curiosity, finally not being reduced to simply a patient. Even without having exchanged greetings with her, Heimdal’s sure his plan will be accepted happily.

“Morning, Heimdal.” The woman drops the gaze, picking instead at some invisible speck of dust on the tunic.

She doesn’t see as the Bridge-Keeper smiles at her self-consciousness. “Good morning. It’s a joy to see you free of the infirmary’s dreary gown.”

“It feels good to wear sorta normal stuff.” [Y/N]’s eyes go wide as she realizes what she just said. “I mean…It’s not that it’s not normal! I just…on earth we, y’know…it’s uhm…different and…ehm…and –“

It’s impossible not to let loose a guffaw at the woman’s attempt at recovering from what she thinks it’s a blunder. “Don’t worry, my friend,” Heimdal calms, “I’m well aware of the garments used in Midgard.” Observing as a shy smile erupts, the Bridge-Keeper decides it’s now or never. “Perhaps, if you feel up for it, I could tempt you with an excursion? A skiff has been prepared to take you across the realm of Asgard rather than only watching the world from behind a window…?”

A variety of emotions flutter across the features of [Y/N]: astonishment and delight are pushed aside by something akin to worry, perhaps. The bright smile turns into a frown as she bites softly into the lower lip and the fingers wind themselves in the embroidered border of the linen.

“What is it, my lady?” Heimdal allows himself to take a seat next to her on the edge of the bed, carefully reaching for her hand.

Taking it, delicate fingers trace invisible patterns around his knuckles. “I would seriously, like really, abso-freaking-lutely love to go. There’s so much to discover here and it’s like…like being in a fairy tale. Only it’s real.”

“But…?” Holding his breath, the Guardian of the Bifrost attempts to steal his heart for the worst. After all, why would she care to spend time with him?

How…how do I get to the skiff? I still can’t walk very far yet.” Again, the lower lip falls victim to a soft bite, and Heimdal finds himself wishing it was his lip. “The length of the hallway,” she indicates with a nod towards the corridor beyond the chamber-door, “but then I’m done for.”

Is that it? Expecting her to go on, the Asgardian hesitates, but nothing more comes. “If I’ll have to carry you, to grant you a taste of the world you so keenly have observed, then I will!”

“Oh, no! I can’t let you do tha–“

“[Y/N], there’s no need to fret. Just like on you earth, we have means of transporting people too ill or injured to walk.”

Meeting the [Y/E/C] eyes, he witnesses the decision being made, and his own heart could burst from his chest.

…

Of course! You’re absolutely certain, that you’re the biggest idiot to walk the planet. A people as advanced as the Asgardians are bound to have wheelchairs and what-not. Oddly enough, Idun has so far insisted on ferrying you to and from the cradles in a lying position, so you simply haven’t seen any other means of aid. And lying on he way to an exploration-trip hadn’t seemed like a good idea.

So of course, it doesn’t Heimdal long before he’s arranged a surprisingly stylish set of wheels for you and brings you through the labyrinth of halls and passages until you finally are outside in the sun. Breathing deeply, it strikes you again how clean the air is contrary to that back home…even out in the middle of nowhere, where you used to live. The sound of the city was distant and soothing, unable to overpower the songbirds and myriad of busy insects dancing on the breeze from flower to flower. This is heaven. It really did make sense why the Vikings of old had lived in glorifying hope of going to Valhalla. A morbid thought with a sense of humour as black as the deepest cave makes you quirk a smile, because in a way you (almost) did die in battle like the warriors thought was needed to be taken by the Valkyries to Asgard…and here you are. Difference is that you’re very much alive. The sun warming your skin and the gently win playing with your hair is proof of that. So is the fuzzy jolt that travels through your body as a strong hand rests against your back, urging you to step into the longboat that’s hovering in a waterless channel.

Once settled neatly on board, resting against furs and pillows, Heimdal maneuvers the vessel expertly out of the alien dock and along an invisible path.

“Anywhere particular in mind?”

That voice can also only be from heaven. “All of it?” You answer makes him laugh, honey eyes nearly disappearing in the smile. “I’d like to see what you see when you’re guarding Bifrost. And the mountain inland! And the lake I can see from my room.”

He get’s what you are trying to put into words, and as he navigates through the air, the many stories of the nation and his own youth surface. The intricate pattern in this Asgardian’s life has you criss-crossing fields and rivers, skimming over the treetops of the vast forests, and cruising along herds of deer leaping over the plains that fall and rise like ocean swells. And although each detour has the skiff aimed in a new direction, Heimdal consistently draws nearer to the mountains, the heart of the world. The snow-capped peaks loom tall ahead of you as the upland grows steadily steeper.

“These summits,” with a flourish he indicates the two tallest, “are Kóngurinn and Drottningin.”

Apparently, it means king and queen and are referring to the very first king and his wife. Buri, as the king was called, established Asgard’s dominance and role as a protector or the “Nine Realms”. This is not completely new to you as some of the books you’ve been reading while stuck in bed also covers subjects such as Asgardian history. Still…hearing it from Heimdal is much better and you feel your gaze drawn to him rather than the view. He has a way of oozing contagious interest, each word dripping with a calm confidence.

Enchanting.

There’s no other term to describe how the mesmerizing voice conjures images from the past.

[henriwithaninterrobang]

The Long Road

Is it recording?

Okay, great.

So, this happened one night a couple years back, four or five, maybe. It was the middle of October, and I was driving back upstate from the city. I usually drive now, 'cause the train takes a lifetime to come, you know how it is.

But anyway, I was driving, and I thought I'd stop off for a bite to eat at this diner, Sophy's; they make an excellent linzer tart. Just as the idea popped into my head, I missed the turnoff, but now I had my heart set on one of those cookies, so I took the next exit.

So I'm driving along when suddenly my GPS screen flickers a few times. I remember now, I looked around through the window, and it dawned on me that my car was the only car on this road. I recall I felt… this, ah, just this needling of nerves. And at that moment the GPS screen went dark. It died, right out of the blue.

I knew the way back to Sophy's from there, it's just a straight shot down this open road about three miles and then you turn right. I kept going, with cornfields on the left side of the road and darkened trees on my right.

Then, one by one, in a line down the road, the lamps blew out. Well, not really― they didn't explode or anything, they just went dark in a row, the wave of darkness spreading out in both directions from my car, until only the moon lit the road, a full moon, if I'm not mistaken. Even my headlights went out.

I stopped the car and reached for the door handle, then stopped. Something told me not to get out of the car. A little voice in my head, it went, "Don't get out. Stay inside." And so I kept driving, slowly, very slow.

Soon I noticed that every minute or so, the light I was driving by flickered. I looked up at the moon, and in a few seconds, a black shape darted across it. Maybe the thing wasn't black, but it sure seemed black silhouetted up there. The voice in my head dismissed it as bats. We've got plenty around, but I still don't think that's what it was. After the rest of that night, I wondered about witches. But that seems impossible. Or at least it should. Frankly, I'd believe it.

Anyways, I kept going down the road. I believe I mentioned that there were cornfields bordering it, right? On the left, they were. So at this point, on my left, something starts to move, and change shape. I keep driving looking straight ahead, not wanting to see whatever it is that's going on out my side window.

I went on like this about three minutes, but was I ever scared, so each one felt like an eternity― like the wait for the train, you know? So eventually I was overwhelmed, by fear and curiosity. And what I saw, no one would ever believe, but it was too strange for me to make up, or dream. I don't have that kinda imagination.

In the fields, the corn was swaying back and forth; but on the other side, the leaves on the trees were still, and some of those were aspens, their leaves'll shake if you blow on them from twenty feet away. I stared at the corn, I was transfixed, and I realized, and this was real weird, unearthly, like, I realised that the corn was dancing. All those stalks, waving their leaves back and forth like some gloomy, tired dance. But even as I thought that, the corn sped up, and it was walking. The plants were going in circles, swinging each other around, it was like, like some sorta square dance. And then one stalk stopped moving, and gradually they all stopped, and they raised up their leaves, and the leaves pointed at me. And that was the moment I felt most scared in my life― scared of a field of corn, can you imagine that? And the corn came onto the road on its confounded spreading root-feet, and it came towards my car, and I stepped on the gas without a second thought. I was running from corn. God, just think of it. Jesus.

So I sped down the road, and around that first right turn to get back to the main road. I wasn’t really much in the mood to go to Sophy’s for a linzer tart after the ordeal with the corn. And I tell you, I’m not crazy, I know where that road goes— though I suppose that night rewrote a lot of what I thought I knew. Maybe I was driving too fast out of fear, and I missed the turnoff... the fact of the matter is, the road I turned onto wasn’t much more than a dirt path through a dark tunnel of trees, I could barely see anything for a good couple of minutes, and I was just shaking in the front seat, praying that that corn couldn’t run.

When I finally reached the end of the tree tunnel, I wasn’t back by the main road— I found myself in a little hamlet, with a few tumbledown old Victorian houses spread out in front of me. A few of the houses had lights on in the upstairs windows, and shadowy people stood in one or two of them. I couldn’t make out their faces until I drove a bit closer, and then I saw that they were dolls, every one of them, those creepy old-fashioned ones with realistic faces. Those gave me the shivers, and it didn’t help that their eyes looked like they were following me as I drove on by.

I can’t tell you how weird it was to see that all the houses in that spooky little town had dolls in the windows. There were only a few houses as it was— the town must have had more dolls than people. There was this big house that only had one attic window, and the doll sitting in it, she had this blue dress and curly golden hair. The hair was what got me. It looked just like my daughter’s. I looked away real fast and sped up a bit.

After a short time, the road dead-ended at some sorta footbridge across the river. At that point, I was not looking forward to having to drive back through the town, but the only thing I wanted to do less than that was leave the protection of my car and cross the bridge. I made a u-turn, and as I was turning, I noticed a strange thing at the side of the road. It was a rusty red tour bus— the same sort they have down in the city, the double decker ones, you know? It was hard to make out at first because of the trees and tall grass growing up around it. There were a handful of overgrown weeds poking up from the roof, too, and hanging in the dirty windows were a couple of faded old tie-dyed shirts with some peeling words printed on their fronts. I squinted real hard and I could make out that they said Lordville, I guess that was the name of the town. Looking back, it was kinda funny seeing the shirts there, seeming like something visitors might buy in Woodstock or something— that little town certainly didn’t seem like somewhere tourists would flock to.

I didn’t think of that at the time. Sitting in the front of the bus, like it was the driver, there was a broken mannequin. It was cracked and dirty, missing an arm, and there was a gaping hole in the side of its head. Nothing at all like the pristine dolls in the houses.

It looked like a murder victim. I decided I’d spent quite enough time in Spookytown, so I turned my car around and went right back the way I’d come.

As I was passing by the big house again, I glanced up at the window, and I felt my blood run cold, because she was gone. The golden-haired doll had vanished from her post, and I was reluctant to think about where she’d gotten off to, or how. As I watched, the light in the attic went out, and a couple of seconds later, another one blazed to life in the window right next to the peeling wooden door. The only thought my mind could form was “she’s coming.” I stepped on the gas, and as I was pulling away, I swear I saw the door inch open. I didn’t stick around to find out who was behind it. The doll, or just some townsperson? Honestly, living in a town like that, you couldn’t end up much less creepy than the dolls themselves.

I drove as fast as I could on the bumpy dirt road that led through the tree tunnel and out of the strange, dark town, and after speeding a bit further down the main road, until both the cornfields and the town were far behind me, I slowed down a bit to catch my breath beneath the light of the moon. It’s a good thing I did, because otherwise I would have run right over the cat sitting in the middle of the road. As it was, I stopped short with a screech of tires, too close to it for my comfort.

The cat, on the other hand, looked unfazed. It stared up at me with lamplike eyes, not blinking. I got the strange impression that it had been waiting for me. Just as this thought crossed my mind, the cat stood up. It looked over its shoulder at me and blinked slowly, only once, and then it padded off down the road, swishing its tail towards the sky. I drove after it at a crawl.

I can’t say for certain how long I followed the cat for. The road wasn’t like I remembered, and I figured I was good and lost at this point, which is the reason I was following a cat. A green signpost loomed out of the darkness just then. The cat sat down at its base, tail twisting around the metal like a vine, and looked up at me with an expression that seemed expectant. I peered at the sign, which said I was only about a quarter mile from the main road. My face must’ve lit up, because the cat winked at me. Then it was gone, tail disappearing into the underbrush at the side of the road.

I followed the sign and kept driving until I could see the lights and hear the roar of the highway up ahead through the trees. A minute later I got back onto the main road. I sighed heavily. It seemed like I’d been holding my breath all night and I was just then letting it out again. I went straight home, not bothering to stop at Sophy’s. My appetite was all but gone.

I've never told anyone that story. No one would believe it. I don't go that way at night anymore. I wouldn't drive down those roads and through that town under the flickering moon again for all the linzer tarts in the world.

[hopoo]

DEADBOLT Q&A

I tried to answer every question as honestly as I could, so I hope this is a good read. If your question isn’t there, it’s either identical to another one asked or joined together with another question. Cheers!

Q: In total, how much time does the campaign of Deadbolt span? It’s hard to tell, what with it being infinite nighttime and all.

A: I would imagine a month-ish. It is implied that the Candles are doing some sort of investigative work between missions, which would surely take some time. Q: Did you have any major inspirations for the visual design of DEADBOLT? A: John Wick is obviously the biggest one! Q: What would hopoo do if someone made a game completely based and inspired from Deadbolt and its… Concept? (with permission and not) A: There’s no way DEADBOLT is that unique in settings or thematics – ultimately, you know what’s right and what’s wrong when you’re inspired by a work, and so will everyone else! If you feel obligated to ask for permission, maybe you’re not exploring enough original ideas? Q: When will we get modding? if so could we get a simplified modding kit? Any plans for updating dedbort, even just the map editor? Feature for adding custom sprites, rotation tool, copypasta tool, just to name a few… A: So the thing with that is that the map editor is only half the equation – while the map editor may be writing stuff to files, it also has to be interpreted on the end by the DEADBOLT game itself. Therefore, adding features that aren’t supported in engine simply won’t work – it won’t know what youre talking about. While rotation is supported in the engine, it doesn’t know how to read that from the files, etc. I also am trying to avoid any legacy issues where old maps are required for old versions of DEADBOLT, or vice versa. Q: When is deadbolt 2 coming with werewolves and mummies A: Werewolves aren’t undead you dingus. But mummies could be cool.

Q: Will the stuff that came with the release of Deadbolt on Play Station, will be added on PC? A: Nope, that was sorta our deal-sweetener for getting on the Sony consoles. Q: Will we ever see expansion levels for Deadbolt or would we get Deadbolt 2 instead? A: DEADBOLT 2 maybe sometime

Q: Does Ibzan is gay? A: I haven’t really thought of the sexual orientation of any of the characters, and I definitely don’t want to pull a JK Rowling and retroactively assign them. So in terms of canon, that just hasn’t been explored.

Q: Would you prefer deadbolt 2 to be in 3d and 2d? Would you do a sequel? A: DEADBOLT is probably the narrowest design space I’ve worked with – there’s no dodging, insta death, insta travel attacks. By the end I felt very stretched out in terms of enemy design, and for that alone I’d think 3D. But hey, I may also just hate 3D by the end of RoR2 so who knows :^). I’d love to do a sequel one day, most likely from the perspective of Ibzan. But who knows! Q: Did Ibzan want to kill the Fire, or just try to reconcile with it? A: He just wanted to talk – but who knows what would’ve happened after the Fireplace rejected him? Q: Would you be interested in going back to the world of deadbolt sometime in the future? I remember hearing somewhere a 3D concept would be interesting to work on. A: I wish I was talented or driven enough to write comics for it – I think DEADBOLT is more about the stories of individuals, compared to RoR who is a story of the universe. I wrote the Cassette Tapes to reflect that. Q: Looking back, is there anything you’d change about Deadbolt? A: Hmmm… I just wish I somehow could expand more on the lore and gangs, and what their goals were. Gameplay-wise, it was a tad too short. I liked doing a few standard stages, and then a mix-up stage (sniper, trap, boss, etc) – maybe we could’ve fit in a few more rotations. Q: What’s your favourite loadout? A: Death/Taxes and Flashbang, like a scrub. Q: Would you ever be interested in restarting the asset suggestion thread A: I consider DEADBOLT to be done – as a 2 (now 3!) man team, we financially can’t do the games-as-a-service thing like most big companies can for smaller games like DEADBOLT. I also intended DEADBOLT to be a one-and-done thing as a contrast for Risk of Rain, which we updated for years after release.

=CONTROVERSIAL OPINION ALERT= I personally also think that EVERY game getting a bunch of DLCS and updates and patches for a long time is, in a way, exhausting as a player. I think it makes it hard to feel satisfied when you finished a game and it’s over and you feel completed in the journey, knowing it’s not ~technically~ over until the devs stop patching. I think it’s great for some games (mostly multiplayer-based ones), but some games you just gotta let… finish, on a good note. Semi-open ended endings are always unsatisfying, in my opinion, and so recently it just feels like you don’t ever complete a game. …On the flip side, we are planning on doing lots of post-launch support for RoR2 because it’s actually inline with our design goals, so don’t fret! Q: Will bugs like Scythe not having a cover sprite or some enemies not having a falling sprite (which causes the game to crash) be fixed? A: Which enemies have been missing a falling sprite? They should be resorting to idle, not crashing. Bosses? Q: Just wanted to say, you guys are my favorite games studio, hands down. Now for the question: Now that the Reaper has completed his task and is allowed to rest, what’s next? Is the Fireplace going to keep him resting for a while? Does our MC have another task to accomplish? A: The Fireplace has never let a reaper “rest” before - the reason he is allowed to rest is because Ibzan never got to, and the Fireplace is trying something different with you. This is unexplored territory for the both of them – presumably he just pets his cat and gets bored before getting back to work. Q: What happens to everyone else in the afterlife? A: People who aren’t in the Place? Who knows, and who cares about boring happy afterlife 😊 Q: I had a question about the lore. There’s mentions of places outside the city, across the river Styx. What are they and what are they like? A: The Styx connects the other realms together, including (presumably) wherever the demons came from. This is explored lightly in one of the demon cassette tapes. Q: Will you ever expand more on the world of deadbolt or are you 100% done with it at this point? A: Nope definitely not done, really wanna explore more one day Q: What’s your office address? For post and stuff, maybe I want to send you a box full of A4 sheets of paper with a thousand hoopters on each. A: Maybe this is the paranoia in me but I’m not comfortable posting my address online – you can just tweet it at me a thousand times instead Q: Did Ibzan think the flames would give warmth to the Dredged or was he just lying to them and using them for his own gain? A: He was lying to himself, but he did truly believe that this was going to work, because this (at the time, anyways) seemed like the only way out. Metaphor woawoawo Q: Could you add some sorta DEADBOLT reference into RoR2?  Will the Reaper be playable in Risk of Rain 2 as a bonus? A: Definitely references happening in some form, but playable might be stretchin’ it a bit, especially since it’d be taking up the slot of some more in-universe secret character. Q: How excited are for RoR2? A: Honestly very nervous for the reception, with very big shoes to fill as a sequel for RoR. I just hope people like it, and that we don’t get burnt on 3D because there’s so many possibilities in the future for our games in 3D. Q: How are the Demons born? We know they’re made in birthing chambers, but then is it just like humans or is there anything specific needed for a demon to be born f.e. skeletons>suicide, zombies>overdose, etc. A: Demons aren’t undead and don’t naturally exist in the Place, which is why they have to be smuggled over – they exist in whatever version of hell is in the DEADBOLT universe, and are natural denizens of the underworld. Q: was izban hot before he died? A: The hottest Q: do all the nightclubs canonically have chris c. as the dj A: Yes Q: I love Deadbolt very dearly and i’ve listened to its soundtrack (particularly “Now I Am Become Death”) more times than i can remember. What’s your favourite tune from Deadbolt ? A: Defunktorum or The Proverbial Dust Biters Q: In the Hardmode Cassette Tape it talked about a Reaper that wasn`t the current Reaper that we play as in the Game. Was this Reaper Izban? Since in the tape, he talked about the fireplace as his friend and that could be why he wanted to go back to the fireplace through the portal at the end of the game, to revisit his friend. A: Yes yes and yes. This was most heavily implied in Ibzan’s “home”, which parallel yours. Q: Will RoR2 still have opportunities to create silly messy builds like covering the screen in missiles or releasing an endless stream of Thqwibs? If so, how are you working to mitigate the performance impact of those crazy builds? A: Yep! Currently we have a system that detects the average particle count in a scene and slowly adds a chance non-important effects (like hitsparks or impacts) don’t ever spawn. This will at some point also involve turning off expensive effects and reducing particle LODs. Q: I really love the attention to detail to the characters, environment, aesthetics and gameplay mechanics. Its themes on the criminal underworld and the supernatural give a unique identity in a high-octane/stealth pixel action game I have not seen before. Additionally what prompted or inspired you to make DEADBOLT in the first place? A: DEADBOLT in its entirety was supposed to be not-Risk of Rain. It’s a gorey, violent, moody singleplayer puzzle-stealth game. We were just burnt out from the Risk of Rain experience, and we also wanted to flex our design muscles a bit and show that hey, we’re not just a one-trick pony of gamedevelopment :^) Q: I just played through this game on PS4/Vita over the weekend. Huge fan of Risk of Rain. Even bought it through Limited Run Games. So I had to pick up Deadbolt (Didn’t previously know you had made it either.) and I love it. Its a super solid experience. I’m not sure I have any questions about it. I guess I was curious if co-op multiplayer was ever considered in development? Keep up the great work. Can’t wait to see what you guys make next. A: Nope, because of the reasons above – we wanted a single player game, since RoR was a multiplayer one. Q: First of all, congratulations!! I really loved the game since came out, I bought it for my birthday, since risk of rain made me fell in love with all the pixel art in it, deadbolt didn’t disappointed me!! Everything in it I love it! Thanks for the game!! Now the question You already answered about how the skeletons or vampires came to be in that Place, how the vampires are killed by their lovers, but, how a reaper, becomes to be a reaper? I mean a candle said “I’ve never been so close to one” A: Originally, the reapers were actually supposed to be from suicides – if I remember right, the reaper when going down the stairs to the docks still has the hole in the back of his head in his sprite. Currently, it’s not explored how a reaper is made – I think a bit of mystery is always needed in making a believable universe J Q: Lorewise how many reapers are there total? Why are they incredibly fragile compared to the undead? What makes the reapers not undead? A: IIRC there were 4 fireplaces in the final stage, which was supposed to represent the way the fireplace was communicating to all reapers in the field. Q: Do you like turtles? How about corgis? A: Yes, and yes (although there’s way too many in Seattle now). Q: Did you have any idea Chris would break out a whole band’s worth of musicians for the soundtrack? His work was superb and the OST remains my absolute favorite to this day. A: DEADBOLT OST was actually done with many people – it must be in the credits somewhere! If I remember right, there is at least a drummer and a musician.

Thanks for all the questions, and happy hunting :)

hopoo

[moth-with-a-pen-archive]

Light, Shadow, Chaos, and Order! I like those! Tell me about them? How do the people live in them? How are they different? Library in Light? Time in Chaos?? I must know all the DEETS

Dude there is SO MUCH and like 90% of it is just flying around in my head. So here’s my attempt to organize those thoughts a lil bit.

This is pretty much what I imagine of Chaos and Shadow? The floating islands bit is like the outer islands of Light, too.

Chaos is, as I mentioned, ever-changing. It’s a series of ravines in the desert, (like so, but less organized), with homes carved into the rock and bridges strung across the chasms. The cave entrances disappear and reappear every few minutes, and staircases grow from the stone of the ravines. Pongarts (like a mix between a guinea pig and an otter with a big fluffy squirrel tail) swim in the rivers, and the sandstone deposits are allergic to rain.

Speaking of the rivers, that’s the main way people get around. Boat ferries. Unless it’s short distance (like within their stretch of ravine), then they walk. Although, when the new moon’s out, the water runs red and it’s bad luck to touch it. If it happens to be raining and a new moon, people just take a sick day. It’s a pretty big superstition.

And time telling!! The upper ravines get a lot of light, so they use the walls as one giant sundial. The world has two suns, and as such everything has two shadows. They used to keep track of both to measure minutes, but now they just keep track of the darker shadow (from the main sun). The walls and floors have lines carved into them, with the specific time written below the line. Also, there are people hired to announce the time every hour for those who can’t see the lines.

20ish years ago, they came up with a solution for the days when the sun doesn’t shine. The lines now glow when their respective hour arrives (to represent the sun reaching that part of the ravine), and it’s set up on a timer so they even glow at night and on rainy days.

OH and the deeper caves are often flooded, which means scuba diving’s a thing. Like so.

When it comes to Order, it’s what you’d imagine out of a big city. High rises, apartment life, pollution. There’s a lot more magic-based tech, though. No oil factories or coal mines, just enchanted solar panels and griffon-based trolley systems. And probably less all-glass architecture. Rather than a grid, everything is organized hexagonally. Why? Because out in the mountains, there are six ancient places of magic. Askalin drew upon these to build the city up, and he’s linked them to the city’s lifeforce to keep it going strong. They’re protected from viral outbreaks, strong weather, earthquakes, anything that could do bad things to their fragile way of living. Until, y’know, the very person that’s holding them together up and dies. That’s a problem.

Light, like each of the four realms, has a little bit of ancient magic that people take advantage of for day-to-day life. (In Chaos it’s the shifting rock, which people have mapped out to regulate foot traffic. In Order it’s the nanites. In Shadow there are Desodon, mysterious shadow-dwelling creatures.) When a person is born, they’re automagically assigned a three-color code. This information is stored in their left eye, and you can see the color code by shining a light (a light made with Core stone) in their eye. They’ve harnessed this trait as a country-wide cataloguing system, storing everything from their family tree to criminal records. The Core stone thing has been finessed into a barcode scanner sorta device, each one keyed to reveal a certain part of their identity information. They’re a thing any business is required to have for record keeping reasons. (Because that bookstore down the street shouldn’t know how many homes you’ve lived in, and the doctor doesn’t need to know your great-grandmother’s name) In a medical emergency, critical info is just a retina scan away.

There are…. 30ish? Islands in Light? There’s the Major island, the biggest and most central. Everything else orbits around it. Pretty urban. There’s the Twin islands, which orbit each other. Then there’s everything else, any floating landmass with a population of 100+ counts as an island. Meaning there are island fragments between these islands, with maybe a herd of sheep as their most significant inhabitants.

As for how people live on them, that varies. There are skyships, to get between them, and platforms built on the bottoms of the islands where the sun doesn’t shine. Generally speaking, though, people live topside. They build houses, apartments, libraries, ect. A regular city, except someone manages to wander off the edge every five years or so. There are barriers to prevent such things, even force fields around the big islands. But people have their ways.

In Shadow, people dwell almost exclusively in the trees. Treehouses and huts on the giant branches, with ziplines and rope bridges and flight magic to get around. Just about everyone knows how to climb a tree. In the higher branches, there are ski lifts for those that want a more secure ride. But they’re expensive and don’t exist in a lot of villages.

[themirthfulroadrunners]

New Mexico Just off the Turquoise Trail

The first two days of this trip were troublesome, nearly problematic… sorta. We got an early (early!) start, leaving home at 4:45. Traffic wasn’t bad, not even the trucks. Of the 8 construction zones that Google maps identified, which turned into 11-12, none of them slowed us down much. No merging problems, and never below about 60mph. So we arrived at our reserved hotel at about lunch time – much earlier than we usually stop driving. (Exaggeration maybe, and gaining an hour at the New Mexico border did affect our timing. Plus, we had reserved a hotel, due to so many travelers escaping lockdown). But we used the free afternoon to drive a scenic road that was actually more cool than scenic with the find of some awesome old churches. And the location of where Coronado stopped over for 4 days to build a bridge across the Pecos River. We tried to find Pecos Bill. Maybe next time.

The troublesome, nearly problematic parts were in the area of our energy. After the activities of the 2nd day, we were toast. Debbie was so weary as to be sick from it. The hotel bed was heavenly, tho, so good rest was had.

 The morning drive out of our stop (Santa Rosa) was horrific with the truckers. The rudest in the world apparently drive I-40 going west from Santa Rosa and we interacted with many of them. Speaking of Santa Rosa, the California city that was burned up in 2020, is where Wayne moved from in 1979 to return to the land of ancestry (on his dad’s side), Arkansas. Working in the Post Office in Santa Rosa, CA, he saw a ton of misdirected letters that should have gone to New Mexico. Conversely, a lot of Santa Rosa, CA mail that was supposed to go to another address in Santa Rosa, CA, took a side trip to Santa Rosa, NM first.

 Our next hotel in Albuquerque, the city of Debbie’s birth (thanks to the United States Air Force) was touted as a ‘full-service’ facility, which means no free breakfast. Don’t know about you, but for 150 million bucks, we want free waffles! (and yogurt) And we ain’t payin’ no $25 for a hotel breakfast where you can’t even order what you want (free waffles!) Also, now, mind you that this is during the Covid19 Delta-variant-surging-wave, one of the two elevators in a 6-floor hotel is closed. Once while we were on the only operative one, descending from the 5th floor, it stopped at the 3rd where 2 employees and a customer charged in to join us. NO! We scored a strike bowling them down as we clamored over them to get out. WHAT’S A’MATTER WITH PEOPLE? (Besides bein’ knocked out.)

 We got to our house sit and guess what? The promised hot tub doesn’t work, the homeowner had compromised the wiring while tryin’ to electrificate a tree that grows through the deck. After immediately kicking their two dogs (NO, we didn’t), the homeowners pledged that the promised hot tub would be repaired before our house sit was to start. Afraid for their pets’ lives, they did, it was, and a hot tub at 7000’ is sublime. All is well in New Mexico. And even better yet, the owners invited us back before we even unpacked. Now we feel bad for our earlier disappointment.

 Speaking of hot tubs, this trip afforded us the best in terms of stars, satellites, and shooting (falling?) stars. They were awesome.

 New Mexico, which should change its name to Carson State, or Navajo State, seems to have a distinct lack of historic, or cultural, heroes. Coronado, the famed Spanish explorer abused the native Indians (Pueblo, Navajo, Zuni, Apache, Comanche, Ute, Kiowa), and probably more, to the degree that they revolted in 1680. There was blood, followed by bad blood. Coronado was solely interested in exploiting both the people, and their wealth, had he ever found the lost cities of gold. Coronado aside, there were famous trappers and hunters, but none who benefitted the development of the state, or any people groups within. Kit Carson seems to be the singular stand out as far as heroic figures go. (There may be a bunch of indigenous folks, or folks of Spanish ancestry worthy of the acclaim, I don’t know.) Starved for notoriety of some sort (even bad press is better than no press), modern New Mexicans (Carsonians) point to Billy the Kid – almost to the degree of the George Washington slept here hype. While eastern states laud actual heroes: Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett, John Paul Jones, Paul Revere, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, General Anthony Wayne (hah!), Ashley McBride (ha-ha!), and the like, New Mexicans extol a murdering punk, a villain. Oh well, even bad publicity …

Despite the obvious lack of historical heroes, New Mexico does not lack for historical enchantment. The sights are spectacular, especially the mountains and even the smaller rock formations. The people are friendly (excepting the murderous Billy). The food is great. Wayne prefers the red chili peppers while Debbie, the green. Wayne likes to actually see the mold in his food.

After a short two-mile hike with a thousand-foot elevation gain, it was time for Sparkly, our glittery black Ford Edge, to finally get his way, a trip up a bona fide Jeep/ATV road/trail. It used to be a road. In fact, we drove it with ease two years ago. A local told us that the monsoons they’ve had washed it away. Sparkly wanted to go fast, so Wayne let him have his head, doubling the recommended 2mph. Sparkly was sometimes difficult to restrain.

 The adventure was worth it, offering a Stephen King Misery experience. A mountain lion crossed the ‘road’ just ahead of us. Wayne stopped and got out of the car to check out where it had headed. (maybe not the most clever of options) Low and behold, (BTW, we loathe and despise cliches, but sometimes it’s better than a sharp stick in the eye) A hundred or so feet down the nearly 90 degree drop-off was a vehicle smashed into a tree. Though there were no obvious signs of a recent departure from the ‘road’, it could have fairly flown over the nearby brush. Or it could have gone over when there was snow cover. Or … anyway, going down to check whether there was a corpse in the vehicle while theoretically possible, didn’t seem very well-advised considering that there might very well be a mountain lion finishing up what might be left and much preferring the live meat presenting himself on a veritable platter – Wayne.

Surprisingly, there was cell service in this remote mountainous area. From a Sandia Mountain trail map handout, we got through to someone who transferred the call to the proper authority. While they appreciated our call, they’d been aware of the vehicle and that it had been there for some time. But how weird, that the mountain lion crossed exactly where we could see the crashed vehicle. What if it wasn’t the same crash that the authority thought they knew about? What if the driver was just then coming to, only to see a mountain lion eating his face? (Limiting Wayne’s Stephen King intake.)

 Another mile down the ‘road’ we saw a mountain lion kitten, though it was barely a kitten, nearly as large as its mother, and almost devoid of kitten colorations and markings. We watched it in awe for some time before thinking to take a photo. You just have to believe us (or not) that the blond blur in the below picture is the kitten.

 Another quarter mile brought us to our promised hike, a trail to what was described as a Cave Man Cave. Unless we’d unknowingly driven across the Atlantic, it is doubtful that cave men had ever seen New Mexico, let alone inhabited this cave. More than likely the occupants, for which sufficient evidence supported the probability, were ancient indigenous people, no doubt using the cave to hide from mountain lions at night. The cave was cool, but there are better in Arkansas.

 A serendipitous hike in the Sandia Mountains showed us a plethora of wildflowers; most were varieties this Arkansas couple do not normally see. But the star of the show was a large mule deer buck who calmly sauntered in the trail behind us when we stopped for a rest (hiking at high altitude is hard, y’all!).

A retracing of a trip up the Turquoise Trail from 2 years ago put us re-hiking a trail in Cerrillos State Park, just south of Santa Fe. Several old mineral mines dot this trail and their history is revealed in very good signage. Passing through Madrid (unlike the one in Spain, this one is pronounced MAA’-drid), we were stopped for several minutes on Hwy 14 due to a ‘special event’ which we could not see. When allowed to pass through the artsy, cutesy town, we saw evidence of a movie being filmed. After exploring Cerrillos, we returned to Madrid for ice cream and got to watch some of the preparations for more filming. We did not get to see the part where the clipboard snaps and someone yells, “ACTION!” but it was enough. This same town was used for some of the scenes in the motorcycle film Wild Hogs and one building still boasts the ‘Diner’ sign that was added only for the film. Sign on the door says they do not serve food there. One can understand the confusion for tourists. We found out the movie being filmed during our trip is titled Robots and is a futuristic comedy starring Shailene Woodley and written by one of the writers on Borat. Cool beans. We ran into the film company yet again a day or two later, this time in a couple of sites in the Sandia Mountains. Whether the finished movie turns out to be good or meh, we’ll be watching it to catch glimpses of the gorgeous New Mexico countryside. New Mexico and Colorado have several movie ranches sprinkled in the very scenic areas.

 15 months, or so, ago we were house-sitting in Durango when paper Closed for Covid signs went up on doors in business-after-business. Here’s one for the whole town.

 While touristing Old Town Albuquerque we suddened upon a shop managed by a very personable guy who gave us a cup of Arabica/piñon coffee. When we house-sat in Sante Fe last year we talked to a State Park Ranger dude who told us all bout people picking piñon nuts. Having marvelously (Debbie word) passed the aroma tests, we bought a box of K-cups of this unique, pinon flavored brew. The personable guy turned out to be the artist, David Behrens (DavidBehrensGallery.com and Facebook.com/DavidBehrensGallery).

 This trip ranks among the best, or at the top of the list: obedient and FUN pets, very clean and comfortable home, fantastic hiking and scenery (despite the photo-compromising smoke), and very gracious hosts who offered us their entire refrigerator! Regarding the smoke, we shouldn’t be too self-centered considering it may be what’s left of someone’s home passing overhead.

Here are more pix from the trip. Enjoy!