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falling-endlessly · 11 months ago

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Boomerang (part 3)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Your infuriating ex is planning something, and it's putting everyone on edge. But if he wants at the hotel, he'll have to go through you (and Alastor) first.

<— Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

—6 HOURS AGO—

"What," Valentino growled, claws creating cracks in the table from how hard he was gripping it. "The fuck did you just say?"

Velvette was no better. Her lip was pulled into a furious snarl, and for once her phone was nowhere to be seen. "Vox, are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Relax," Vox reclined in his chair, raising a brow at his murderous business partners. Velvette's eye twitched and the table creaked in protest under Valentino's fury. "I'm not actually going for redemption, damn, calm your tits people."

"What happened to keeping up an image for the brand?" Velvette banged a fist against her armrest, gritting her teeth. "The Morningstar bitch was literally humiliated on live television, and now you're going to personally advertise for her?!"

"The next extermination is coming sooner than ever, and people are getting desperate. This little publicity stunt can work in our favor," Vox crossed his claws under his chin, megawatt smile growing. "What's a little pity pitch going to hurt? Think about it, I can gather intel, fuck up Alastor's little project, and show Y/n where her allegiances should lie. Win-win-win," he chuckled ominously.

"Cut the shit, Vox," Valentino scoffed, leaning forward to sneer in his face. "It's obvious you're only going this far for that bitch. Can't keep a leash on your toys, hm?"

Vox grit his teeth, digging his claws into his thighs under the table. He knew this wasn't going to go over well, but to be talked down to by someone who was benefiting from him? "So what if I am?" He hid his rage with a large, mocking grin. "And by the way, where's Angel Dust? Haven't seen him around in a while."

Val's face twisted with rage. "You fucking—"

"Enough!" Velvette snapped, glaring at both of them. "I don't have time for this stupid shit. Get on with it or this meeting is over."

Vox's unhinged smile slowly relaxed into his charming PR one. "Of course, my apologies Velvette, Val. I can see why you're not...convinced yet. Let me fix that."

The projector on the wall suddenly sparked to life, displaying three pie charts and a legend with many colorful categories. He gestured to them from left to right. "This is a distribution of our profits from ten years ago, five years ago, and last year."

"We have eyes," Velvette droned boredly.

Vox's antennae sparked in irritation, but he continued regardless. "Y/n's helped develop countless programs and softwares, and with her expertise our earnings jumped thirty seven percent, especially during the collaboration between Voxtek and DeepSpace VR. Now, what happens now that she's taken her business elsewhere? Hell knows she has the computing power to run it without our servers—"

"So, we're supposed to just bend over backwards for a few bucks?" Valentino snarled, crossing his arms.

Vox's screen glitched as he struggled to keep his composure. Thirty seven percent was not just a few bucks. But he knew antagonizing Val right now was more trouble than it was worth. "Val," he chuckled, sauntering forward to rest a hand on the backrest of Valentino's chair, leaning into his space. "Since when have you said no to money?" His eye widened, rings spinning.

"Since it walked out on two legs and ignored us," Valentino snorted.

"Val, I need you to see the bigger picture!" He grasped both of Valentino's shoulders, moving behind him so he could speak enticingly into his ear. "This is an opportunity to keep our brand at the top, and get dirt on that radio bitch. The future is what matters, and we are going to be the ones pioneering it."

The projector flickered to one of the surveillance cameras pointed at an exterior angle of the hotel. Then, the image suddenly rippled to show an artificial video of the same property, but instead of the tacky hotel, there stood a modern building adorned with a bright, neon V logo.

Valentino's smile grew at his last sentence, and he turned in his seat, leaning his forehead to rest against Vox's screen. "I like your vision, Cariño," he purred, grinning wickedly to show off his golden tooth. "But, if your little money-making cocksleeve doesn't come back, well, don't say I didn't tell you so~" he said in a sing-song voice, long tongue coming up to lick languidly along the side of Vox's monitor.

Vox's grin froze on his face, screen glitching.

Valentino chuckled, pushing out of his seat before strutting away. "Oh, and Vox baby," he threw a saucy wink over his shoulder. "Come find me when you get lonely, yeah?"

The double doors slammed shut behind him, bathing the room in silence. Which Velvette quickly broke, of course.

"What the fuck, Vox?" She scrubbed a hand down her face. "All this for a profit we can afford to lose? Really?"

"Velvette," his smile twitched up to full, blinding attention again. "Have I ever let you down before? Everything is under control, trust me!"

"Uh huh," Velvette scowled, unconvinced. "You know, Alastor and Y/n are the only people you've ever really lost it for, and you're going to a place where there's both of them."

"What, you don't think I can handle myself?" His smile strained.

Velvette shook her head, standing up from her chair and approaching him. "You know, that PR shit might work on everyone else, but I can see through your bullshit, Vox," she gave him a hard stare. "Just don't fuck everything up, got it? Or I'll make you wish you didn't."

His fists clenched as she walked past him, smile dropping into a scowl as soon as she was out of view.

****

—PRESENT—

"Whatever you do, make sure he's at least ten floors away from me," you muttered to Vaggie, watching as Charlie gave the bane of your existence an awkward tour of the hotel.

The atmosphere was so tense and suffocating, it was starting to make you incredibly antsy. The others were no better. Angel was drumming his fingers anxiously on the bar counter, Niffty was curiously regarding the new "resident" and Husk was already chugging his second bottle of hard liquor. Holy hell, and you couldn't even forget about Alastor if you tried, the radio demon releasing a constant stream of static and looking about ready to sacrifice someone—preferably Vox—in an incredibly painful and sadistic ritual.

"I can't believe she's letting him stay," Angel hissed under his breath, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Actually no, what am I saying? This is Charlie, of course she'd let him stay. God damnit."

A tap on your shoulder made you turn around, only to find your favorite stiff drink on the counter behind you. You nodded gratefully at Husk, taking the glass and throwing it back like water.

"At least the hotel's in one piece!" Niffty chirped, her one eye back to tracking any stray insects. "Less mess to clean up." Her knife gleamed as she stabbed a cockroach clean in half with a deranged giggle.

"This isn't going to end well," Vaggie scowled darkly. "He's going to try something, I fucking know it."

"Yeah, no shit," Angel groaned, Husk grunting in agreement.

"Or," Pentious chimed in, hair flaring thoughtfully. "He truly does want to redeem himself?"

There was a silence as everyone turned to look at him incredulously, before a unanimous, resounding "no," rang out.

****

"Anddd here's your room key," Charlie presented it to him with a flourish, beaming brightly. "We hope you enjoy your stay! Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served downstairs in the dinning room, or you can go out and get your own food! We'll get your survey ready for you tomorrow so that you can start building your schedule."

"Schedule?" He quirked a brow, taking the room key from her outstretched hand. "For what, exactly?"

"Oh! Um," Charlie laughed, rubbing the back of her neck. "We actually host group therapy activities and trust exercises with the other staff and residents! You'll fill out a short survey so that we can personalize—"

"O-kay, let me stop you there, sweetheart," he chuckled, grin widening condescendingly. "I think it's great what you're doing, really, I do. But I've already got a schedule, and a billion dollar company to run. I'm quite the busy man, you know?"

Charlie furrowed her brow. "But—"

"Seriously, my sales would fall and what would my clients say? Hm?" A crowd booing track played in the background as Vox shook his head like she was just some uneducated child. "So thanks, but no thanks." He shot her a wink, before the door slammed in her face.

Charlie blinked in shock, taking a few seconds to process that she'd been dismissed in her own hotel. Her shoulders slumped as she trudged away.

But that only lasted for a few steps, before she perked right back up. What was she thinking? Giving up so quickly on one of her clients?

Charlie grinned, smacking a fist into her palm. She'd just have to try harder.

Unbeknownst to her, a figure had been watching the entire exchange from the shadows. Your jaw clenched, claws digging into the drywall.

"Unbelievable," you shook your head in disdain.

****

As soon as the door shut, Vox deflated like a balloon.

"Fuckkk," he hissed under his breath, sliding down the door tiredly. "The hell am I doing?"

He allowed himself only a few minutes to wallow in self-pity, before he sighed, pushing off the floor and getting to work. In less than twenty minutes, he had the whole room wired to his needs, electronic Voxtek devices littering the previously empty spaces. Now he had a way to travel without leaving his room.

He was just about to dematerialize into one of his laptops when a familiar, chilling presence made him freeze.

"Why, you only just got here! Don't tell me you're leaving already," Alastor chuckled, tilting his head in mock concern.

The radio demon was leaning an elbow against his dresser, just casually invading his privacy. God, just his smug face made Vox want to kill him already.

"What's it to you, old timer?" Vox sneered, electricity sparking from his claws in agitation. "Unlike you, some of us actually have responsibilities. So if you don't mind—"

"Oh my, breaking your word to Y/n already!" Alastor shook his head with a grin, sound effects of a heckling crowd emanating from his microphone cane. "How very...disappointing. Truly, I'd expect better from you!"

Vox's eye widened, the swirling rings on full display as his teeth grinded in rage. "Y-y-y-you keep her fucking name out of your filthy, cannibalistic mouth! You hear me?" He glitched furiously, electricity sparking in glowing webs from his monitor.

"Aha! Someone's a little on edge," Alastor laughed in tandem with an artificial, mocking laugh track. "Really, that was too easy! You're losing your touch."

"Get the fuck out of my room!" Vox snapped.

"Gladly," the radio demon grinned menacingly, the corners of his mouth stretching to unnatural proportions. "But first, I came to deliver a little message."

Vox gritted his teeth, curling his fists by his sides. His electricity buzzed under his skin, ready to electrocute the fuck out of this crazy fucker if he needed to.

"If you and your merry band of idiots pull even the smallest stunt to sabotage the hotel," Alastor approached him, antlers growing as his eyes turned to radio dials. "I think you'll find out that absence did not make my heart grow fonder."

"What, don't tell me you actually care about this place," Vox grinned, baring his teeth. "The whole redemption thing doesn't really seem to be up your alley, no offense."

"Oh, of course not! Haha! Don't be ridiculous," Alastor chuckled like he'd said something hilarious, but it was overlayed with bursts of radio static. "But I'm afraid I've invested too much in this source of entertainment for you to ruin it with your cheap, unoriginal touch."

The message was clear: don't touch my things.

Vox curled his lip, unwilling to back down no matter how utterly disturbing Alastor's demon form was up close. It gave him chilling flashbacks of their last explosive disagreement. "Then stay away from Y/n," he spat.

Alastor's grin widened, eyes glowing an eerie green as he held out his hand. "Is that a deal?"

Vox grimaced, looking at Alastor's creepy, voodoo doll appearance. "Hell no, you creepy fucker."

Then, like whiplash, Alastor's demon form receded and the air became breathable again. "Well, glad we cleared that up, then!" He laughed exuberantly, twirling his cane. "Nice catching up, chum!"

The demon grinned as he disappeared into shadowy wisps of smoke, melding with the darkness against the walls.

Vox's jaw clenched, electric anger vibrating through him and rattling his teeth. "Fuck!" He kicked over the first thing he saw, which happened to be a wooden workbench. It took a few deep breaths for him to finally calm down and collect his thoughts.

When he was no longer at risk of causing a city-wide outage again (that had been fucking embarrassing), he made his way back to his laptop like he was originally planning to do, only to pause in shock when he saw the brand new device short circuiting, screen full of pixelated static.

An explosive rage convulsed in his chest, the lights in the hotel flickering ominously.

"You red bambi ass fucker!"

****

<—Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111

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flawseer · 11 months ago

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Jade Mountain Academy students

#3 - Nightwing chapter

The Jade Mountain Nightwing chapter, also known as "the part where Mightyclaws carries the entire weight of the Quartz winglet's canon characterization by himself". There are a bunch of wacky headcanons that have snuck their way on here. Shout-out to the deliberation on Nightwing powers by my partner @flamebringer0.

Moonwatcher

Tribe - Nightwing

Winglet - Jade

Color - Iridescent black and blue

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Kinkajou (Rainwing), Carnelian (Skywing)

Favorite subject - Literacy

Least fav. subject - did not disclose

Physical characteristics - three prominent silver-colored scales on face (two adjacent to each eye, one in center of forehead); scale clusters of iridescent blue and green along neck, torso, and tail; small stature, round features with well-defined musculature

Other characteristics - socially subdued, quiet, mother reported history of migraines (suggest keeping stock of pain-relieving herbs on hand in medical cave, monitor hydration habits); appears ostracized from fellow Nightwing students (suggest communication seminar)

Bigtail

Tribe - Nightwing

Winglet - Gold

Color - Dark ash

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Pike (Seawing), Flame (Skywing)

Favorite subject - History

Least fav. subject - Science

Physical characteristics - nasal ridge sloped; large stature, uneven distribution of body mass; tail size and length medium to underdeveloped

Other characteristics - body shows signs of extreme long-term malnutrition (suggest dietary seminar and monitoring of food intake); caught bringing bottle of cactus wine into classroom (confiscated, reprimanded after incident but monitor future behavior)

Fearless

Tribe - Nightwing

Winglet - Silver

Color - Charcoal black and red

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Sepia (Mudwing)

Favorite subject - History

Least fav. subject - Literacy

Physical characteristics - long dorsal spines; localized reddish accents; stature is noticeably small and thin

Other characteristics - body shows signs of extreme long-term malnutrition (suggest dietary seminar and monitoring of food intake); fixation on Nightwing culture (gently encourage diversifying interests)

Mindreader

Tribe - Nightwing

Winglet - Copper

Color - Charcoal black

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Alba (Icewing), Snail (Seawing)

Favorite subject - Cultural Exchange

Least fav. subject - History

Physical characteristics - black teardrop scales adjacent to both eyes; size is average, features appear very gaunt

Other characteristics - body shows signs of extreme long-term malnutrition (suggest dietary seminar and monitoring of food intake); appears socially open and well-adjusted

Mightyclaws

Tribe - Nightwing

Winglet - Quartz

Color - Shadow gray

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Barracuda (Seawing)

Favorite subject - Art

Least fav. subject - Anatomy

Physical characteristics - light horns, bent; prominent jawline; small stature with uneven distribution of body mass

Other characteristics - body shows signs of extreme long-term malnutrition, noticeably stressed during meal times (suggest dietary seminar, monitoring of food intake, and counseling); artistically inclined, has started therapeutic painting to cope with post-traumatic stress (at behest of staff)

#wings of fire #wof #dragon #digital art #wof art #flawseer art #wof nightwing #wof moonwatcher #wof bigtail #wof fearless #wof mindreader #wof mightyclaws #jade mountain academy

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 months ago

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Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 7: Tell Me That I Won't Feel A Thing]

A/N: Hello besties! Thank you for voting in the poll for Chapter 7. Below are your predictions...let's see how you did! 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is back yay!!!

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Give Me Novacaine” by Green Day.

Word count: 9.6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

Billboards ask you as the Tahoe flies across the flat emerald sea of Iowa: Have you heard the good news? Have you been saved? Where will you spend eternity? Are you struggling with same-sex attraction? Do you regret your abortion? Do you fear the Lord? Do you want to end up in Hell?

Aegon snickers, gnawing on a Slim Jim. The sun glare turns his wild hair to gold, etches crinkles into the ruddy skin around his eyes, murky like deep water, oceans you recognize from other corners of the world. “I thought I was already there.”

Jace’s Honda Rebel 300 is left on the shoulder of the highway with its fuel tank uncapped, drained to feed the Tahoe, prehistoric combustion, bottomless mechanical hunger. Rhaena takes over driving so Baela can sit with Jace, touch him, inhale him, convince herself he’s real. Aegon climbs into the passenger’s seat and skips songs on the CD player until he finds the one he wants: In Da Club by 50 Cent. The miles roll by so soft and so infinite that you can’t imagine ever feeling trapped again, warm July air unfurling down the darkest corridors of your lungs, hawks on lifeless power lines and fields dappled with white-tailed deer. And you think: Everything will be better now.

You cross the Missouri River and into Nebraska at Plattsmouth, which—according to a plaque mounted on the outskirts of town—the Lewis and Clark Expedition passed through over two centuries ago. Rhaena follows Aegon’s directions to cut between Lincoln and Omaha, avoiding the roiling wastelands of the cities and keeping well north of Cooper Nuclear Station, where in the absence of a successful manual or computerized shutdown before the power grid collapsed, rods of uranium are melting down and irradiating the surrounding area, anemia, cancer, heart disease, radiation sickness, an affliction that eats you alive.

Rhaena takes Nebraska State Route 66 north and then Route 92 due west, lush fields of corn and soybeans and sorghum planted before the dead began to walk, bones of devoured livestock. You stop for the night in a town called Broken Bow, the sky turning the colors of fire and rust and blood, the Tahoe exsanguinated like a man with a slit throat. Every vehicle you pass already has its fuel cap unscrewed; the farther west you go—the scarcer the resources, the longer it’s been since the world began to end—the less the earth will yield to you: less guns, less gasoline, less food, less human settlements scattered across what was once called the frontier. You commandeer a two-story house: white wood, wraparound porch, a long gravel driveway that winds like a snake. There is a small cornfield and a barn, both of which you sweep for zombies before making yourselves at home. You try not to think about what happened to the family that used to live here.

Helaena lights candles, Luke and Rhaena distribute bowls and silverware, Aemond and Rio gather kindling for the woodstove, Daeron keeps watch on the porch, Aegon picks all the Twizzlers out of a mixed bag of Hershey’s candy for Jace. There is a 12-pack of Ramen noodles in the pantry, gallons of water in the cellar, and a pot large enough to cook it all in one batch. Cregan takes Ice and disappears into the cornfield for half an hour at dusk—something none of the rest of you would ever consider—and reappears with an opossum that he’s nearly decapitated with his axe. He butchers it and you brown cubes of meat in a sauté pan placed directly on the glowing embers. The others are horrified and won’t eat a single bite until you do. It’s the first real food you’ve had since you left Saratoga Springs, and you feel satiated in a way you had forgotten existed.

In honor of Jace’s resurrection, some revelry is in order. There are bottles of Grey Goose vodka in a kitchen cabinet, and Aemond allows a two drink maximum for anyone eligible to participate: Baela is too pregnant, Daeron is too young, Aemond himself is too vigilant, too self-sacrificial, too indoctrinated into the religion of his own martyrdom.

“Daddy loved his screwdrivers,” Cregan says. “I remember being five or six and taking a big gulp of one thinking it was Sunny D or Tang or something. Lord almighty, was that a shock!” He guffaws, then inspects the pantry, scratching at the dark stubble on his cheeks. “We ain’t got nothing like orange juice though.”

“Mama made hers with Hawaiian Punch.” You point: there are several jugs of it on the floor between boxes of Pop-Tarts and Welch’s Fruit Snacks and Cheddar Whales, red like crushed blackberries or fresh blood.

Cregan grins at you over his brawny shoulder. “That’ll work, Miss Chips.”

Luke and Rhaena have first watch, Rio and Aegon will take the second. You are blessedly unburdened tonight. This house is big enough for you to get your own room; you climb the staircase with Grey Goose vodka burning in your throat, your head warm and dizzy, a sensation like freefalling as you lie down on the bed.

I left them, you think, the walls spinning around you, echoes of Mama’s voice through the phone as Rio stood there nodding, encouraging you to hang up. I left them and I never looked back. Can someone commit such an act of ancestral betrayal without incurring a curse?

You are still considering this when you feel Aemond’s weight on the mattress and fold into him, the world going dark and hushed and harmless.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I think it’s safe,” you tell Aemond between sighs, his lips on your throat, his hand between your thighs. Late-morning sunlight slants in through the bedroom windows; goldfinches and blue jays flap by chirping blithely. The dead pillage the misfortunate beasts of the earth, but creatures of the air and water are spared. You can hear geese honking from a distance, and the breeze through the cornfield, and calm indistinct voices beneath the floorboards. You can smell pancakes turning from white to gold in a pan sizzling with Crisco. Cregan must be cooking breakfast in the woodstove.

“How sure are you?” Aemond murmurs, his breath warm on your neck, those small teeth he’s always hiding nipping playfully, and if he leaves marks like stains of ballpoint ink you don’t care. He’s whisked every scrap of your clothing away. Beneath him you are bare and helpless and needing more.

“Like…eighty percent sure.”

“I’ll pull out.”

“Like Jace did?”

He laughs and kisses your mouth, not just ravenous but wild like a storm, and all the rest of the world goes quiet. Your ankles are linked around him, his hips rocking with yours. He is wearing only his boxers, black plaid from a looted Walmart, apocalypse chic. “Hopefully better than that.”

“Just try your best. I trust you. I’m willing to risk it.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s worth it to me.” I could be dead in nine months, he could be dead in nine months. I’m not wasting the time we have left.

“It’s your decision. You would be most affected by the consequences.” He draws away and glances down. “I want to look at you.”

“Ohhh.” You stall. “I’ve been trimming with scissors by candlelight. It’s a hack job.”

“I won’t mind.” He grins. “You don’t mind my hack job of a face.”

“I love your face,” you say as you skim your fingerprints down the length of his scar. And then, when he raises an eyebrow roguishly: “I didn’t break any rules. I didn’t say I love you, just your face. I’m totally using you for your face. Your personality is terrible.”

He snickers, kisses you goodbye, retreats to your hips and pushes your thighs apart as you cover your face and whimper, nervous, exhilarated. And then his lips are on you and the trepidation melts away, puddles pooling and then evaporating, and you have a vision of being home again, shivering and dripping in front of the crackling flames of the woodstove after playing outside in the snow and waiting for the fire to take the cold away. Now the fire is growing over you like ivy, tendrils snaking through veins and leaves opening in your lungs, bones vanishing, muscles turning pliant and weightless. You can feel Aemond’s fingers pushing into you, a fleeting second of tension and discomfort, and then a fullness that is delectable, irresistible, maddening.

“Come back,” you plead, and when he does you clasp his face with both hands, kissing him deeply as his fingers remain inside you, thrusting and bathed in your wetness. You’re finally ready for him, you have to be, you need him so badly: like you’re dying of thirst, like you’re running out of air. “Now, Aemond, please. I want all of you.”

And he wants it too. His boxers are gone and he’s positioning himself between your legs, his tongue in your mouth, one hand cradling your jaw as the other guides his cock to where you are slick and aching and aware of an emptiness that has never felt so dire.

He’s so big…

But you are determined to take all of him. You don’t care if there’s pain, if there’s fear. You want to feel what it’s like to be with him before it’s too late.

Aemond presses himself against you, rolls his hips cautiously…and nothing happens. He is a bit more forceful. There is immense pressure, then the beginning of a stretching that is sharp, searing, dreadful, unfamiliar in a way that is completely disorienting. You gasp before you can stop yourself; a wince ripples across your face too quickly to camouflage. Aemond shakes his head and climbs off you, settling beside you on the bed.

“Fuck,” you exhale in frustration, slapping a palm down on the mattress. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand why…why I’m like this…”

“Shh,” Aemond soothes, kissing you. “It’s okay, it’s fine. I’ll help you finish and then we can try again later.”

“Why isn’t this easier?”

“You’re just nervous,” he says gently, smoothing your hair back from your face, like it’s no big deal, like he’s pointing out a bird or a rabbit or the shape of a cloud.

“I don’t feel nervous.”

“It’s not always conscious, sometimes the body reacts without the mind even being aware of it. You tense up and things become…more challenging. But fortunately for us, the treatment is very enjoyable. We just keep messing around and working up to it until one day you’re so aroused and so relaxed that I can glide in without any discomfort whatsoever, and then your body adjusts to this glorious new experience and you aren’t so nervous anymore.”

“Can’t you just…you know…sorry, this isn’t very romantic, but like…shove it in?”

“I could, sure,” Aemond says. “If I was a horrible person. And then you’d learn to associate sex with pain, which would just exacerbate the situation.”

“The problem, you mean.”

He smiles patiently. “You aren’t a problem. We’ll figure it out, we have time.”

Do we? You stare morosely up at the ceiling, shadows of clouds, shades of wings. “I should have hooked up with that Marine at Corpus Christi. Then I’d have practice. I was so afraid of giving a man the power to hurt me or get me pregnant or otherwise ruin my life, but I didn’t know I’d meet you one day. And now I just want everything to be easy for us, and it isn’t.”

“Hey.” Aemond turns your face towards his. “For me, you are…” He struggles to decide on the words, his eye drifting to the window, sunlight turning the blue of his iris to a shallow, glass-clear river. “You’re like an island, and everything else is a sea of poison, and violence, and catastrophically fucked up situations, and when we’re alone together it all goes away for a little while. The world gets quiet. It’s never been like that for me before. I don’t mind if it takes time for us to figure this out. I just want to be with you.”

“What happens when we get to Nevada, and you’re supposed to turn south for the Bay Area while I go north to Oregon?”

Aemond shrugs, but his expression is contemplative. “I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe we’ll all stay together and go to one place, then the other. If Odessa is safe, I can bring my parents, Criston, and Grandfather there. If it isn’t, we can bring Rio’s family south and live in California in that beach house on the cliff.”

“I never thought I’d set foot in a mansion.”

“I never thought I’d eat opossum.”

You laugh and curl up against him, resting your head and a palm on his chest. “How was it?”

“Not too bad, actually. Kind of like dark meat chicken. A little gamey, but I like lamb and venison, so that’s fine with me.”

“Just wait until you try bear.”

“Bear?!”

There is a knock at the bedroom door. Luke’s bashful voice is muted through the wood. “Aemond?”

“Yeah?” Aemond replies impatiently.

This was not an invitation, but Luke doesn’t seem to know that. He opens the door, and as he does Aemond throws the blanket over you so you’re covered, leaving himself completely exposed.

Luke begins: “I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to bother you, but…” His eyes go wide. “Oh, you’re like, all the way naked.” He turns and stares at the wall to be polite. “If it’s a bad time, I could come back in five minutes. Do you need more than five minutes? Wait, that was rude, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sure you can last way longer than five minutes…um…”

Aemond sighs. “What’s wrong, Luke?”

“Jace is sick.”

“Sick?” Aemond sits up straighter, his eye narrowing. “Sick how?”

“He’s been puking since he woke up.”

You and Aemond exchange a startled glance as you clutch the edges of a blanket patterned with wild horses. Illness, virus, plague, curse.

“He hasn’t been bitten or anything,” Luke says quickly. “So it can’t be…you know…that. And he and Baela don’t seem that worried. But you should probably take a look at him.”

Aemond nods, less alarmed now. “I agree. Can I get those five minutes first?”

Luke smiles. “Yeah. See you downstairs.” He leaves and shuts the door behind him.

You look to Aemond. “Why—?”

He yanks the blanket away and drags you towards him. “I said I was going to help you finish,” he says, grinning, a hand slipping between your thighs.

You bite at his lips when he kisses you and tease: “I don’t need your help.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t. But it’s better when I’m here.”

And he’s right; it is.

~~~~~~~~~~

Daeron is out on the front porch sharpening sticks into arrows and using goose feathers for fletching, attaching them to the wood with a tube of Gorilla Glue that Helaena found for him. Helaena herself is presently floating through the house—soundlessly, ethereally, traceless like a ghost—and partaking in what you all call “apocalypse shopping,” pilfering the clothes and accessories of the former occupants. She seems to know everyone’s sizes without needing to ask. Aegon, Rio, and Cregan are sitting in the living room and eating pancakes off paper plates, carelessly spilling Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup on hideous 1970s couches ornamented with scenes of pheasants and autumn leaves. Down on the Turkish-style area rug, Ice is merrily chomping her way through a stack of burnt pancakes.

“So Cregan,” Rio says, his bare feet propped on the coffee table. “What did you do before the whole zombie situation?”

“I was a lumberjack.”

“No way!”

“Yes sir. I cut down trees for the power company.”

“What a coincidence,” Rio says around a mouthful of pancakes. “I was an electrician!”

“Well how about that? We oughta go into business together once the world straightens itself out. Where’d you work?”

“All over. Wherever the Navy sent us.”

Cregan sets his fork down on his plate. “You were enlisted?”

“Yeah, me and Chips both. That’s how we met.”

Cregan, much to Rio’s surprise, seizes his hand and shakes it soberly. “Thank you very kindly for your service.”

“No problem,” Rio replies, then turns to Aegon. “No gratitude from you, huh?”

“I showed my gratitude when I let you have the last pancake, you ogre…”

In the only bedroom on the first floor, down a hallway and towards the back of the house, Jace looks worse than you expected. He is heaving into a reusable plastic popcorn bucket, gluey ropes of saliva dangling from his lips; his skin is pale and bloodless, his dark curls damp with sweat. Baela is perched beside him on the bed and holding a wet washcloth to the back of his neck. Rhaena and Luke are loitering anxiously in the doorway, watching Aemond to determine if they should panic.

Jace casts you a bitter glance. “You poisoned me with your poor people food.”

“There’s nothing wrong with eating opossum,” you say, somewhat defensively.

Aemond feels his forehead. “That wouldn’t give you a fever. And everyone else is fine.”

“Maybe I’m extra sensitive. My digestive system has higher standards. I’m built different.” Jace resumes retching into the bucket.

Baela tells Aemond: “He can’t keep anything down. There’s nothing left in him, but he’s still so sick…it has to be a stomach flu, right?”

“Who would he have caught it from?” Luke asks, and Baela doesn’t have an answer.

“Stand up,” Aemond orders Jace when his wave of nausea abates. “Strip down.”

“Aemond, he wasn’t bitten,” Baela says. “I saw his whole body last night. He doesn’t have any scratches or bruises or anything.”

“Fine. But I want to see for myself.”

Jace stumbles out of the bed, pushing away Baela’s hands as she tries to stop him. “Okay, Nick Fury. If you wish to gaze upon the goods, I won’t deny you. I’m not shy.” Aemond rolls his eye. You turn around to give Jace privacy. “What’s the matter, Chips? The only dick you’re interested in belongs to Mike Wazowski over there?”

“Jace,” Baela says, but she’s chuckling. Amused, you stare at a picture on the wall—a haloed Jesus guiding a flock of lambs—as Jace sheds his clothing and follows Aemond’s instructions: lift your arm, turn around, show me the bottoms of your feet.

“No bites,” Aemond confirms, deep in thought. “But the symptoms…”

“It’s not that, Aemond, I’m telling you,” Jace insists, rasping breaths between each clause. “Listen, I got sick when I was alone, before I found you guys again. My stomach, my head. Maybe it’s the same thing now. It didn’t last long, and I thought I was over it, but I guess not.”

“People don’t get better and then worse again after they’ve been bitten,” Rhaena observes softly. “They just get worse.”

Jace lies back down on the bed, his face crumbling with pain. Baela uses the wet washcloth to cool his cheeks and neck. “My head hurts so fucking bad…”

“Because you’re dehydrated,” Aemond says.

“Helaena brought pills, but every time I try to take one I throw it up before it can start working.” There is a gurgling sound in his guts, and then a horrified expression. “Baela, I gotta get outside again.” She and Luke immediately swoop in, grab one arm each, and usher him out of the bedroom, through the back door of the farmhouse, and into the cornfield to allow him some semblance of dignity.

Rhaena gives you and Aemond an awkward smirk. “Helaena found Jace a 24-pack of Angel Soft toilet paper in the basement. So there’s some good news.”

“He needs electrolytes,” Aemond says. “We can’t let him get so dehydrated that his kidneys shut down. IV fluids aren’t an option. Pedialyte would be the next best thing, Gatorade or Powerade if that’s all we can find.”

“We passed a pharmacy on our way here,” Rhaena recalls. “It’s only a mile back, I think.”

Aemond nods. “Then that’s where I’m going,” he says, and walks out of the room.

You say as you follow him: “I want to go with you.”

“No.” Aemond points to Rio, who is now playing Uno with Aegon on the coffee table in the living room. “You and I are going to a pharmacy to get Pedialyte for Jace so he doesn’t die.”

“Cool,” Rio says, standing and fetching his Remington shotgun from where he propped it against the wall. “What’s wrong with him?”

“We don’t know. Maybe food poisoning.”

Aegon says, a hand pressed to his heart: “Personally, I loved the opossum.”

You stare defiantly up at Aemond. “If Rio is going, I have to go too.”

“Aww, so you can protect me?” Rio teases fondly, patting your back with one monstrous palm, an unintentional battering.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Rio looks at Aemond. Aemond looks at you, touching his chin agitatedly. “You are stressing me out.”

“I’m the best shot. I want to be there in case anything happens.”

“Fine, okay, whatever you want. Just stay near Rio.”

“That’s the idea.”

“A pharmacy?” Aegon asks excitedly. “Can I go?”

“No,” Aemond snaps, and continues out onto the porch. In the gravel driveway, Cregan and Daeron are kneeling by the Tahoe and inspecting the front tire on the driver’s side. “What’s wrong now?” Aemond asks, exasperated.

“Got a flat,” Cregan says. “The little fella here noticed it.”

Daeron is mortified. “Please don’t call me that.”

Aemond peers around mistrustfully, out at the road, into the cornfield. “Someone sabotaged us?”

Cregan shakes his head and taps the tire. “Naw, we just ran over a nail yesterday. You can see it right here. A big one too, a masonry nail, I suspect.”

“Can you fix it?” Rio asks.

“I think so. I saw a jack and a lug wrench hanging up on the wall in the barn, now I just need a new tire, a real one. A spare wouldn’t do us much good, not with all the weight we’re carrying. It’d pop in twenty miles.” Cregan gestures to the main road, but westward, the opposite direction from the pharmacy. “Don’t remember seeing a tire place on our way in. Figured I’d try the other direction. I’ll walk ‘til I find a shop or a truck with the right kind of tires to steal from, whichever comes first. Can’t change a tire on gravel, though. I’ll have to drive the Tahoe out to the road and fix it there. I’m gonna need Rhaena’s keys.”

There is an uneasy lull as Aemond studies him. You, Rio, Daeron, and Aegon—who is lingering on the front porch, not yet ready to admit defeat—glance between them apprehensively. Ice is rolling around in the gravel, coating her grey fur with dust. “How do I know you won’t take off without us?”

Cregan’s face goes dark. His brow, heavy and furrowed, settles low over his eyes. “Look buddy, I’ve done a lot of things for you and your people that I didn’t have to. And now I’m fixing the Tahoe so it can take you west, someplace you decided we’re going. If you don’t trust me, do it yourself. Kill your own opossum. Change your own flat tire. But you can’t, can you? Just like I can’t shoot a zombie straight through the eye or tell you how to cure that sick boy in there. We’ve all got jobs here. Let me do mine.”

Aemond glowers at Cregan, knowing he’s right. Daeron averts his eyes; Rio, grinning, eats a handful of Cheddar Whales from a pocket of his cargo shorts. You lay a palm on Aemond’s forearm. “Aemond…he’s trying to help.”

“Sure,” Aemond replies crossly.

“You want collateral?” Cregan says. “Take my dog.” He whistles, and Ice scampers to his side. He points to you. “Go on, princess.” Ice obediently trots over to stand with you, shaggy ash-colored fur, bestial amber eyes like a rattlesnake’s. “She’ll look after you on your way to the pharmacy and back. And if the Tahoe and I have mysteriously vanished upon your return, you can eat her for dinner.”

“You don’t want a warning if you’re about to run into zombies?” Rio asks.

Cregan chuckles as he picks up his axe off the gravel. “Don’t you worry about me. We haven’t heard a peep since we got into town, and I’m just going a little ways up the road. Any less than ten of those abominations, and I can take care of myself.” He gives you and Rio a parting salute and strides into the farmhouse to collect the Tahoe keys from Rhaena.

Aemond turns to Daeron. “Stay here, keep watch. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Daeron nods, glancing to where his compound bow rests on the front porch. “Got it.”

“Aegon will help you.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Aegon says. “I want to go to the pharmacy too.”

Aemond is losing what remains of his patience. “No.”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Then can you at least bring me something back?”

Rio is confounded. “What do you need?”

“You know…” Aegon gestures vaguely. “Percocet, Vicodin, Oxy, maybe some of that cough syrup with the codeine in it—”

“Grow the fuck up,” Aemond flares, and Aegon falls silent. “You’re thirty years old. Take some goddamn responsibility for something, for anything. I have to go to the pharmacy, Cregan has to fix the Tahoe, someone has to stay here with Daeron to help protect Jace and Baela, and Luke and Rhaena, and Helaena too. Just shut up and do the right thing. You have to start acting like an adult. Who do you think is in charge if I get killed? I’ve never for a single day of my life had the luxury of making selfish choices, and now I feel like I’m not even allowed to die. Leaving everyone else with you would be like leaving them with nobody.”

Aegon gazes up at him, not offended but childishly, mortally wounded. His oceanic eyes are huge and glistening. “But you’re not going to die before me.”

“That’s not the point,” Aemond pitches back, cutting, caustic. Then he starts down the long gravel driveway towards the road. You give Aegon a small, apologetic half-smile and then follow after his younger brother, Ice loping alongside you.

Rio thumps Aegon encouragingly on one shoulder. “See you soon, Honey Bun.” And Aegon watches the three of you disappear, standing in the dazzling midday light with his arms folded over his chest and his hair in hie face, kicking at the gravel with the Sperry Bahama sneakers he once wore on yachts and golf courses.

“Please try to be nice to him,” you tell Aemond when you’re far enough away to be out of earshot. Rio is humming a song you don’t immediately recognize—probably Enrique Iglesias—and acting like he’s not listening. “You don’t know how much longer any of us have. And if that was the last thing you ever said to him, you’d feel awful about it.”

“You have no idea what it was like being his brother. Since I was born all I’ve done is try to plug the holes he blasts into ships. But there’s always water on the floor, I’m never done bailing it out. He needs to learn how to do things for himself.”

“Yes, he does. But he loves you, and he wants you to be happy. He would never intentionally take anything from you. He’ll grow into his purpose, whatever that is.”

“He needs to do it faster,” Aemond says harshly, and you walk the rest of the way without speaking, listening for snarling or lurching footsteps, hearing nothing but birdsong and wind whispering through leaves.

The pharmacy—a diminutive family-owned business, not a chain—has been ravaged. The glass of the large bay window has been broken out and the shelves looted, empty containers and wrappers littering the floor, crystalline shards threatening to gash, stab, infect.

“Stay out here with the dog,” Aemond tells you. Ice is panting calmly, her ears relaxed, her strange yellowish eyes taking in the scenery without any concern. “If she gets her paws sliced up, Cregan will have yet another accusation to levy against me.”

“You’re going to have to get used to him.”

“Not much of an adjustment for you, it seems,” Aemond says, then steps through the shattered window, glass crunching beneath his shoes. Rio gives you a wink and goes after him. They rummage through the remaining merchandise, strewn about randomly and interspersed among trash. Aemond peeks behind the counter where pharmacists once filled prescriptions and climbs over it, searching for any bottles or boxes that were left behind.

“Sorry guys, no condoms,” Rio announces, then laughs at his own joke.

“Be careful,” you urge from outside. “Look underneath, check the bottom racks. Rio? Rio, down low, check them!”

“Relax, ain’t nothing going on in here. It’s silent as the grave.” He laughs again. “Get it? As the grave.”

“Aemond?”

“I’m fine,” he tells you as he squints to read medicine bottles.

“Okay, okay,” Rio says, squatting to examine the shelves closest to the cluttered floor. “I’m checking all the racks. There’s nothing scary under the racks. Happy now?”

“Very. Helaena said something that freaked me out.”

“She can be a bit of an enigma,” Aemond admits. He is taking a tiny box from a drawer to keep.

“Oh, we got Pedialyte!” Rio says, yanking a jug of pink fluid from a pile of debris. “You think Jace likes strawberry?”

Aemond hurries over to help him hunt for more. “Yeah. It’s like a Twizzler, right?”

Ice noses your hand and whimpers softly. You look down at her. “What?”

She whirls and canters around the side of the pharmacy, then returns to make sure you’re keeping up. You go after her, slow and wary, a hand on one of your Beretta M9s. There’s nothing of note to be found in the narrow, shadowy alleyway other than an overflowing dumpster and two skeletons stripped of every shred of fabric and flesh; even the bones were licked clean.

You turn to Ice. “Did I need to see this?” She whines and shifts her weight from foot to foot, ears perked up. Something else? You look down the alleyway. Far behind the pharmacy and the shops that surround it is a church on a jade green slope, old-fashioned, white wood and a belltower. There is a cemetery beside it, and amidst the small grey blurs of headstones are… “Oh,” you breathe. “So that’s where the rest of the town is.”

The graveyard is full of limp, swaying figures that can only be zombies. You are far away and draped in shadows; you retreat back to the pharmacy without any indication that you’ve been spotted, Ice trailing close behind. Aemond and Rio are climbing out of the window just as you arrive. They are each carrying three jugs of Pedialyte in various flavors.

“Where the hell’d you go?” Aemond says; but he sounds more relieved than irritated.

“There’s a church about an eight of a mile away. And there are a lot of zombies in the cemetery.”

Rio sets his Pedialyte down on the sidewalk and reaches for the Remington 12 gauge hanging over his shoulder by its leather strap. “Okay, let’s go clear them out.”

“No, I mean a lot. Like a hundred.”

He freezes. “Oh.”

“We should leave town,” you say.

“While Jace is puking and shitting everywhere? You want to be stuck in a car with that?”

Aemond is thinking, toying with the little box you saw him pick up earlier. “We’ll leave as soon as we can.”

“What’s that?” you ask him.

He shows you the label. “Injectable morphine. All the pills were gone, but I found one vial of this, and I have syringes in my medical kit. It doesn’t need to be refrigerated. It should still be useable.”

“For Baela?” For when she delivers the baby?

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Just in case.” Then he looks at both you and Rio meaningfully. “Don’t tell Aegon I have this.”

“We won’t,” Rio promises. And Ice begins trotting back towards the farmhouse, as if trying to rush you along.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Tahoe is at the mouth of the long gravel driveway, still up on a hand-cranked scissor jack. The tire appears to be new, but the lug nuts haven’t been tightened, and the wrench is nowhere to be found.

“Cregan?” Rio says uncertainly, peeking through the cornstalks as they bend in the wind. “Hey, Cregan? Aemond’s sorry he was a bitch to you earlier. He wants you to return ASAP and do manual labor for him.” Aemond grimaces; Rio beams in reply. But Cregan does not appear.

You can hear them long before you reach the farmhouse, muffled chaotic chattering, raised voices and rushing footsteps. As you ascend the steps of the front porch, Rhaena bursts through the door.

“Thank God you’re back,” she says; there is blood on her hands. “It’s Jace, he…he…come look at him. Aemond, you have to do something. He’s sick, he’s really sick. He’s bleeding.”

“From where?” Aemond asks, urgent, bewildered.

“From everywhere,” Rhaena replies, and beckons for him to follow.

The bedsheets Jace is swathed in are blooming with crimson, flowers of doomed gore. Blood drips from his nostrils and his eyes; when he retches into the popcorn bucket, clots of pink and red spew out. Everyone is gathered around him and speaking at the same time, except Helaena. She is crouched on the floor of the hallway just outside his room, her arms wrapped around her bent knees and her face stricken. Ice curls up beside her.

Above the other voices, Baela screams at Aemond, a desperate horrified moan: “What’s wrong with him?!”

Aemond pushes by the others and feels Jace’s forehead, then grabs his wrist to measure his pulse. As Aemond’s fingers tighten, Jace’s skin rips beneath them, the top layer sliding off and leaving only glistening, raw pink. Jace howls, tears of blood streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t know,” Aemond says, his voice unsteady.

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know?!” Baela shouts back. “You’re a doctor! Fix him!”

“It hurts, Aemond,” Jace gasps, fresh blood on his teeth. When Baela touches his hair, locks of it fall out into her hand.

“He’s turning, right?” Rio says to you. “This is what happened to Snowflake, the blood and the skin and everything—?”

“He wasn’t bitten!” Luke insists, positioned in front of Jace’s bed as if he’s guarding it.

“I don’t care if we can’t find a bite mark, he’s decomposing for Christ’s sake, what the fuck else could it be?!”

Daeron returns with more blankets and towels. Aegon grabs a strawberry Pedialyte out of Rio’s grasp and tries to help Jace drink it. Cregan is muttering: “I ain’t never seen anything like this…”

Decomposing, you think dizzily. He wasn’t bitten, but he’s falling apart…what else does that to a person?

Baela cleans blood from his lips, a towel turning from snow to rubies. “Jace, baby, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to help you…”

“Could it be rat poison or something?” Cregan is saying. “Rabies? Mad cow disease? Ebola?”

“How the fuck do you think he got Ebola?!” Aemond exclaims. “You think he took a jet to sub-Saharan Africa when he was on his own? Use your brain.”

“I’m just trying to come up with ideas here, doc, and I don’t see you with any bright ones!”

He’s decomposing. He’s decomposing.

And then you remember. You kneel down beside the bed so you can look into his face, so you can make him pay attention. “Jace, listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” he replies faintly. He coughs, wet and gurgling. Fresh blood paints his lips. There are blisters beginning to form up and down his arms, you see now, the skin bubbling and separating.

“Jace, do you remember Three Mile Island?”

“What the fuck.” He is baffled, dismissive. “Three Mile what? Huh? What are you talking about…?”

“You’re upsetting him,” Baela says fiercely, tears glittering in her eyes.

But you are determined. “Outside of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, after we left Fort Indiantown Gap. There were these huge concrete cooling towers. We saw them from the Wawa parking lot.” But he wasn’t there when we talked about radiation. He was still inside searching for guns. “Remember, Jace? Do you remember?”

Now Aemond and Rio are looking at you, petrified, realizing what you must be thinking. No one else understands yet. After a long pause, Jace nods feebly. “Yeah. I remember the towers.”

“Good,” you say, smiling to encourage him. “Okay, this is important. After we lost you at the river, before you found us again, did you see anywhere that looked like Three Mile Island?”

“Yeah,” Jace murmurs as he stares back at you with glazed, bloody eyes; and Rio sighs and shakes his head. “I drove right by it on the Honda. The sign said Byron.”

And it’s been over for him since that moment.

“Alright, Jace.” You want to touch him, to embrace him or cup his cheek. You know it will only make his suffering worse. “Thank you. That’s all I wanted to ask.” He begins to gag again, and Baela hurries to place the popcorn bucket so it can catch his liquefying organs. You turn around and walk through the doorway.

“What’s happening?” Aegon asks you, hushed voice, frantic eyes. He has followed you to the living room, along with Aemond, Rio, and Cregan. You nod to Aemond. He knows.

“It’s radiation sickness,” Aemond says, low and bleak.

“What?!” Aegon gapes at him. “I mean, are you sure…?”

“It fits all the symptoms. He was in close proximity to a nuclear power plant, something the rest of us have intentionally avoided. If there was a meltdown, there are miles and miles that are poisoned with radiation. Passing by on a motorcycle could definitely result in a lethal dose.”

“Poor guy,” Rio says. “Not a good way to go.”

“No,” you agree. It isn’t.

“So how do you treat something like that?” Cregan asks Aemond.

“It can’t be treated,” Aemond replies tersely. “Not here, not by me, not by anyone. Not even if the world was normal again.”

“What do you mean it can’t be treated?! Everything can be treated nowadays! Cancer, heart attacks, diabetes, hell, my cousin got testicular cancer and he was fine a month later, he even got to keep one of his balls!”

“Radiation sickness can’t be treated. He’s going to die.”

“But how is that possible when—?!”

“I need you to try to not be stupid for five minutes,” Aemond snaps.

You say quietly: “He’s not stupid, Aemond. He just doesn’t know about this.”

“You are always defending him.”

“Because not going to med school isn’t a character flaw.”

Cregan asks mildly, looking at Aemond: “Could you explain it to me?”

“It’s pennies in a jar, man,” Rio says. “Radiation stacks up and at a certain point it kills you. It destroys your DNA and your body falls apart. You can get it just by going near someplace contaminated, and you might not even feel it happen. And there’s no way to undo the damage. The pennies never leave the jar.”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at Aemond. “Was that so difficult?”

Aemond ignores him. “We have to tell Jace,” he says instead.

Back in the bedroom—a mineral stench in the air, coppery blood and the salt of sweat—Aegon sits on the edge of the bed and takes one of Jace’s swelling, blistering hands carefully in his own.

“Don’t hold my hand, you loser.” Jace mumbles, and Aegon respectfully releases him.

“Jace,” Aegon begins. “We think you have radiation sickness.”

Jace blinks up at him, wincing and disoriented. “Which means…?”

“Which means, um, it’s going to be…not great.”

“Why are you the person explaining this?”

“You’re right, I really shouldn’t be explaining it. Can someone else explain it…?” Aegon glances around hopefully.

“Jace,” Aemond says. “Those cooling towers you drove by were part of a nuclear power plant that melted down when the power grid collapsed. You received a fatal dose of radiation. It’s the only thing that explains what’s happening to you.”

“Fatal…?” Daeron ventures.

Rhaena gasps and reaches for Luke. Baela’s face is a mask of numb shock. Jace stares up at Aemond for a long time before he speaks. “Aemond, fix me.”

Aemond’s words are brittle and fracturing. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Stop fucking around, man, you’re a doctor. You can fix me. I know you can. You’re a genius. You’re a total freak but you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Give me the pills, give me the shots. Cut me open if you have to. I won’t scream, I promise. Fix me. I trust you.”

“Jace, I can’t do anything. No one can.”

“I have to meet the baby, Aemond,” Jace whispers, scarlet tears bleeding down his cheeks. “I have to be here for Baela and Luke. Fix me, man. I’ll do anything you tell me to.”

“Jace,” Aemond says, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I can’t help you.”

Jace looks to Baela, Luke, Rhaena, and at last back to Aemond. “How long?”

“Not very. A few days, maybe.”

“Days?” he echoes, dazed. “What happens?”

Aemond shakes his head. You don’t want to know.

“Yeah I do. Tell me.”

Aemond can’t respond; clear silent tears snake down the right side of his face. Rio answers for him. “You continue to bleed out of every orifice and the rest of your skin falls off. And eventually you die.”

Jace breaks down in sobs. “I was trying to find you guys.”

Suddenly, Baela turns to you and Rio and Aemond, wrathful, hissing. “This is your fault.”

Aemond pleads: “Baela, please don’t—”

“You made me leave him at the river. I knew he was still alive, but you forced me to leave him. If he’d been with us, this never would have happened. But he was alone, and it was because of you. You did this to him. You stole him from me.”

Rhaena tries to console her. “Baela, no one meant to—”

“I just got him back!” she screams, and then shelters Jace in her arms as he clings to her, the skin of his fingers and palms flaking at the pressure, holding onto her anyway. No one knows what to say; everyone has tears burning in their eyes and embers in their throats. “Get out,” Baela demands. “Leave us alone. This is the last time I’ll ever have with him and it’s your fucking fault. So get out.”

And you leave them to their final moments, failing flesh in a dying world.

~~~~~~~~~~

Only Luke and Rhaena flit in and out of the bedroom, carrying soiled linens and the plastic popcorn bucket to be periodically emptied. The rest of you are engrossed in a grim, thunderstruck deathwatch in the living room. You discuss the inevitable in hushed murmurs. It is cruel to let Jace suffer; it is unspeakably horrible to let Baela witness it. Ice alternates between receiving scratches from Cregan, Helaena, and Aegon, never trying to enter Jace’s room. You can hear Jace and Baela talking in there, his retching and groaning, her sobs.

It is not until dusk that Rhaena summons Aemond. Luke is weeping as he paces back and forth in the bedroom. Baela is still sitting on the bed with Jace, resigned now. She does not apologize, but she doesn’t have any more venom to spit either. The rest of you watch from the hallway, keeping a respectful distance. Ice nudges your hand with her nose, but you ignore her. Jace’s bloody eyes roll to Aemond.

“I’m keeping you here, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Aemond replies. There’s no point in lying.

“And I don’t need to feel myself melting like this for days. I get the idea.” Jace looks at Aemond for a while. His voice is anemic but calm; there are fresh blisters on his face and neck. “What can you give me?”

Aemond opens his medical kit and shows Jace the vial of morphine. “I found this at the pharmacy today. It would be painless, like going to sleep and never waking up.”

“Why do you have that?”

“I was thinking a small amount might help Baela during labor.”

“Is it the only morphine in your kit?”

“Yes.”

Jace nods. “Save it for Baela.” His gaze drops to the Glock in the holster at Aemond’s waist. “Can I borrow that?”

Rhaena stifles a dismayed yelp. Baela closes her eyes, but does not protest. Aemond says: “I don’t think you want to do this.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Cyclops,” Jace says, smiling. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“It’s heavy,” Aemond warns. He clicks off the safety and gives the Glock to Jace. “Are you able to use it by yourself?”

“It’s a very simple two-step process. Barrel to skull, finger on the trigger. I think I’ll manage.”

Again, Ice bumps her nose against your knuckles; again, you barely notice. Baela kisses Jace on the mouth, her lips coming away bloody. Rhaena says goodbye to him, then Luke, whispered parting words you don’t try to listen to. Before Aemond exits, Jace grasps his hand.

“Take care of my family, Aemond.”

“I will.”

“Don’t let the zombies eat me afterwards.”

And then it becomes real. Aemond’s composure falters. “Jace…I’m so sorry…”

“Go,” Jace urges him. Then there is a coughing fit, fresh blood and pieces of stomach and lungs. “Right now. Before I lose my nerve.”

Baela is the last one to leave the bedroom; she shuts the door behind her. Almost immediately afterwards is a deafening bang. Baela sinks to the floor and wails, one hand on her belly, the other embracing Rhaena and Luke when they rush to her. Ice is whining and pawing at the floor, her nails screeching on the hardwood. Aemond alone returns to Jace’s bedroom and reappears with his Glock. He places it back in his holster, his scarred face vacant. There’s blood on his fingers, you see. Jace’s blood, the last he’ll ever shed. Aemond hasn’t noticed yet.

You reach for Aemond’s hand; he flinches away. You ask him, pained: “Do you think if you don’t touch me, it won’t hurt you when I die?”

“Please don’t say that,” Aemond responds in a hoarse, splintering whisper.

Ice yowls, and Cregan is abruptly aware of her. “Oh shit, the Tahoe is still up on the jack. I’ll go get it.” He opens the front door. Under the moonlight, there are upwards of a hundred zombies stumbling down the long gravel driveway. Everyone begins screaming. Cregan slams the door shut and shoves one of the couches in front of it. “What now?!”

“We go through the cornfield,” Aemond says as you are all frantically gathering your sparse possessions. “It will be more difficult for them to see us. We kill as many as we can and we make our way to the Tahoe. Cregan, how long will it take you to get it ready to drive?”

“Maybe a minute. But I’ll need someone to spot me while I tighten the lug nuts.”

“Sounds like my kind of job opportunity,” Rio says, pumping his Remington. Helaena gives you a flashlight. Cregan secures the lug wrench under his belt and picks up his axe. Rhaena has her Ruger out and is telling Baela to breathe, to stay focused, to let her and Luke lead the way.

Aemond comes to you and leans in close so the others can’t hear. “How many bullets do you have left?”

“Not enough. Maybe fifty.”

“Do what you can. Stay near Rio.”

“I’ll try.”

Now there are zombies at the front windows, beating their spongy swamp-colored palms against the glass. Baela, Rhaena, and Luke are leaving through the back door with Daeron; you can hear the whizzing of his arrows and the sick soft sound they make when they pierce rotting meat. Under the weight of so many hands, one of the living room windows pops from its frame and clatters against the floor. You open fire, bullets exploding skulls and spraying brains, corpses jolting and then diving to the ground. You shoot until both M9s are empty, then pause to reload, boxes of bullets that Cregan gave you back in Iowa.

“Let them in,” Helaena says.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Aegon shouts at her. He’s firing his Marlin .22 beside you, quite poorly; Rio and Aemond are in the backyard killing any zombies that find their way towards the cornfield. “We’re not letting them get through the house!”

“Not through,” Helaena says placidly. “In.”

“Oh.” Aegon understands. “Oh! I get it! Trap them inside!” He races to the kitchen and tears the remaining bottles of Grey Goose vodka out of the cabinet, then begins spilling them onto the wood floor. “Helaena, give me a lighter.”

She places one in his outstretched palm and then leaves with Cregan as he escorts her away, leading her by her fragile hand. They vanish together into the cornfield, Ice on their heels.

“Time to go, Chips!” Rio booms; he can’t be far behind Cregan.

“We’re on our way!”

Zombies are pouring through the front of the house; another window has given way. You pull the trigger over and over again as you move with Aegon towards the backyard, his clear river of vodka drawing a path from one end of the house to the other. You hit the grass before he does, then wait for him by the edge of the cornfield. Aemond and Rio are shouting for Aegon to hurry up. He crosses through the threshold, flicks the lighter to life, and throws it into the house. His plan works—the farmhouse is abruptly aflame, cooking zombies like long-spoiled hams—but he neglected to realize that in his haste, he had also accidentally doused his own left leg and Sperry Bahama sneaker. The fire licks up over Aegon’s skin and blazes there radiantly. He shrieks and falls to the ground. Rio yanks his own shirt off and uses it to smother the inferno, then throws Aegon over one shoulder to carry him.

“Go to Cregan!” Rio tells Aemond, shoving him in the direction of the Tahoe. Rio will be slower now, but no one else could still run with Aegon’s added weight. “You and Daeron spot him until I get there!” When Aemond is gone, Rio glances back at you.

“I’m fine,” you say, felling zombies as they round the house. “Get Aegon to the car!” And Rio listens to you like he always does, vanishing with Aegon through the cornfield.

You weave through the leafy stalks, investigating each growl and rustling with the beam of your flashlight. Grotesque, fetid faces plunge through the greenery, and you demolish them. You’re in the rhythm now, wheeling for a target and locking in, squeezing the trigger and watching ghoulish faces disappear. And then you spy a zombie lurching towards you from fifteen feet away, a twenty-something in a red Nebraska Cornhuskers t-shirt making her way down the dirt aisle between two rows of corn; and when you pull the trigger, there is only a dry click in reply. Your other M9 is already empty. You’ve used all the ammo Cregan gave you.

“I’m out of bullets,” you say, but no one hears you; you are alone. Aemond always told you to stay near Rio and you never did. Too late, you realize what an oversight that has been. “Rio? Aemond?!”

There are human voices and gunshots, but reverberating from a distance. Far closer are snarls and groans of the dead. You click off your flashlight, drop to the earth, and crawl until you are as far under a row of corn as you can be, long leaves tickling the back of your neck and damp soil in your nostrils. Clumsy, lumbering footsteps trod by you. From the road, you hear the Tahoe’s engine start with a rumble.

They’re leaving.

You shake your head, here with no one to see you in the dark. Still, the thought persists.

They’re leaving. I left my family and now my family is leaving me.

“Chips, stay where you are!” Rio shouts. “We’re coming back, we’ll find you!”

You wait until they are within ten feet of you, Rio cracking skulls with his Remington—he must be out of bullets too—and Aemond firing his Glock. “I’m here, I’m here!” you cry, and they are lifting you up from the dirt and dragging you towards Tahoe, and Aemond puts his pistol in your hand knowing you can do more good with it. You fire ten rounds before the Glock is empty, and you think with terror: Do any of us have bullets left?

Then you are being helped into the Tahoe, and the second all the doors are shut Rhaena floors the gas pedal, heading west on State Route 92.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I got my drugs after all,” Aegon rasps as Aemond injects him with morphine on the floor of a laundromat on the edge of Merna, Nebraska, far enough to escape the zombies, not so far that the Tahoe risks running out of gas before you reach the next town. His left leg is burned from the knee down, and burned badly: skin, fat, muscle, blood-red scorched ruin. Even through the modest dose of morphine—Aemond is terrified of accidentally killing him—Aegon can still feel what has happened to him. He knows it’s bad. He knows it could be the last mistake he ever makes. “I’m so thirsty…”

“I got you, Honey Bun,” Rio says, and then uses the butt of his Remington to bust open the vending machines and bring him bottles of Powerade. Baela is sobbing in the corner with Luke and Rhaena. Helaena is shining a flashlight on Aegon’s leg so Aemond can see. Daeron and Cregan are keeping watch by the entrance. You don’t even know why. All the bullets and arrows are gone, Aegon can’t walk, the Tahoe’s gas tank is nearly drained. If you are descended upon now, what will you do?

Aegon sobs and clutches for you, links his arms around your waist, rests his head in your lap. You hold him and comb your fingers through his unruly hair over and over again, like a compulsion, like a ritual. You are so afraid to let go of him. You are terrified he’ll disappear.

I wish I knew what to say. I never know what to say.

He’s shaking uncontrollably as Aemond cleans his leg: peeling away dead skin, wiping down the raw flesh with disinfectant. Aegon’s eyes are wide and glassy. There is blood on the white tile floor, pinkish lymph fluid, bits of charred skin. Ice is whimpering, her muzzle propped on her paws and her eyes darting around the room. Aegon manages through the pain, a reedy, gasping whisper: “Tell me about all those places you went when you were in the Navy.”

You can see it like the miles-deep blue of his eyes: the Indian Ocean, the jewel-tone equatorial sky. “On Diego Garcia, they have these birds called red-footed boobies—”

Aegon barks out a weak laugh. “They do not. You’re making that up.”

“No, really, I swear! They’re like seagulls, but they have blue on their face and bright red feet, hence the name. They’re extremely stupid, and one night a few of us were hanging out drinking Guinness and playing pool, and a booby flew in through an open window. We panicked, it panicked, and then it was flying in circles and couldn’t get out. We opened all the doors and windows, and the booby still just flew around banging into the walls. And of course the whole time it was shitting and bleeding and getting feathers everywhere, we knew it was going to take hours to clean up. After thirty minutes of chasing this idiot bird around, Rio snapped, took off his boot, and smacked the booby with it. He was trying to fling it out the window, like hitting a tennis ball with a racket, but he accidentally hit the bird too hard and murdered it. Its beak literally separated from its body and flew across the room. None of us could believe it, we didn’t even know that was possible. Rio felt so bad he started crying. We took the booby—and its beak, of course—out to the beach for a Viking funeral. We made it a little raft of coconut tree leaves, set it on fire with a lighter, and pushed it out into the waves.”

Aegon is cackling. “Bryan Osorio, terrorizer of the homicidal undead and boobies!”

“What else?” Baela says, and you look over at her, startled. The flashlight incandescence turns you all to ghosts, phantoms, half-shadows. At first you don’t know what she means. “What else did they have on Diego Garcia?”

“Oh, tell them about the coconut crabs,” Rio prompts you. He’s settled down beside Aegon and is resting one broad hand on his trembling shoulder.

“Coconut crabs?” Rhaena asks you, wiping tears from her cheeks with her delicate, small-boned fingers.

You are abruptly aware that you have an audience. You can feel yourself shrinking beneath their gazes. “Rio should tell the story. I’m not good at it.”

“Sure you are,” Rio says, smiling kindly beneath dark, wet eyes. “Go on. Tell them.”

So you do.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #hotd fanfic #hotd fic

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somethinginthewayiam · 4 months ago

Text

The girl behind the bar (Part 5.2)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: weather storm, self-conscious about appearance/body

words: 5.5k (whoops)

Summary: You're stuck at the Hard Deck with Jake due to a weather storm with no power and no other thing to do than to talk...

a/n: I love this part in the series and I hope you like it just as much! The sonds used in the story are Golden Hour by JVKE and Howling by SYML

Link to my masterlist

You had just received an alert on your phone for your area to stay inside because of a weather storm which meant that you and Jake were stuck at the Hard Deck. While you still tried to process what that meant, Jake had walked behind the bar and poured himself a drink with the help of the torch of his phone. “Looks like we’re actually stuck here”, you said while looking out of the big windows.

“Yeah, no shit”, he said while pouring his drink. You cleared your throat when you spotted him. He looked up and rolled his eyes at you. “I’m leaving the money in the register”, he explained like it was super obvious. “You better”, you told him and walked behind the bar as well.

You nudged him out of the way and crouched down. “Excuse me?”, he said a bit irritated. “I know Penny’s got some candles somewhere down here”, you said as you rummaged around the cabinet.

You found a few candles and matches and distributed them over the bar top and the nearby tables. It was a really beautiful scenery, under different circumstances, you might have called it romantic even. After lighting all the candles, you sat down by the bar and Hangman was still standing behind the counter.

“Can you give me a beer, please?”, you asked him. “Sure”, he said, grabbed a beer, opened it and placed it in front of you. “12 dollars”, he said. You looked up a bit startled, then you remembered. A smirk crept on your lips. “Put it on my tab, sweetheart”, you countered. “That doesn’t count as your shift you still owe me, just so you know”, you commented. “Yeah, yeah”, he waved it off.

When you reached out to grab your beer, your hand was shaking. “You’re freezing”, Jake said and it wasn’t a question. Your shirt was still wet and your short sleeves didn’t hide your goosebumps. “I’d give you my jacket but it’s just as wet as yours”, Jake offered in a surprisingly sincere tone. You didn’t know how to handle nice-Jake, so you didn’t.

“I think Penny has a lost-and-found somewhere”, you remembered and got up from your chair. You walked into the storage room and found the cardboard box on a shelve. You carried it over to the bar and placed it on top. “You should probably change into something dry, too”, you told him and started rummaging around in the box. Jake casted an uncertain glance at the contents.

“Ooh, how about that?”, you asked with a wide grin and held up a shirt that said I fucked a guy in the navy. “I bet those nights on the aircraft carrier can get very lonely”, you said and playfully pouted at him, holding up the shirt in front of his face. He grabbed it and threw it back at you with a grumble.

“This looks more like a you-shirt”, he countered. “I haven’t earned that title yet”, you said honestly and threw the shirt back into the box, looking for the next possible outfit. That’s how you didn’t catch Jake’s glance at you.

“How about that hoodie?”, you said and held up the black-colored clothing item. “Sold”, he said and grabbed it from you. He just took off his white shirt and slipped into the hoodie. You got surprised by the vision of a tanned 8-pack and forgot to look away fast enough.

“Like what you see?”, Jakes voice pulled you back into reality. Startled, you sat up straighter. “Maybe I should charge you”, he joked. “Maybe you’ll earn the 12 dollars after all”, you said and somehow pulled off to wink at him and then focused your attention back on the lost-and-found box to look for a shirt for yourself.

At the bottom of the box, you found an oversized, dark-blue shirt with the word Navy in white letters across the chest. “Jackpot”, you said and pulled it out. You tried not to think too much about it when you turned around in your seat, jumped off the bar stool and took off your own shirt, with your back to Jake, quickly pulling the new shirt over your head again. It wasn’t that large on your body as your bigger chest and hips filled it out more than you would have liked, but it was loose around your waist. You bunched up the shirt around your middle and made a knot in the hem, hiking up your pants further over your belly.

When you turned back around, you found Jake quickly looking down at his glass and pouring himself another drink. He had the hoodie zipped up now, only leaving a few inches open at the top.

“I could really use something to eat now”, he said and walked over to where he had put his doggy bag from the Diner and brought it over. “Great! I’m starving”, you said and licked your lips in anticipation.

“Who said I was going to share?”, he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Come on, Hangman”, you whined. He looked you up and down, then suddenly a sly smirk appeared on his lips. “Beg me”, he requested. “In your dreams”, you called out. “Fine, then I’ll eat it all myself”, he said and started to open the bag.

“Nooo, come on”, you whined again. “You know what I wanna hear”, he commented and grabbed a French frie out of the bag. Oh god, he had French fries!

You took a deep breath, not hiding how much effort it cost you. “Can I please have some of your food, Bagman?”, you asked him. “No, no. Do it the right way”, he shook his head, clearly loving this. You huffed out loud and looked at the ceiling.

“Can I please have some of your food, Jake?”, you begged him and tried to sound somewhat sincere. “Ah, that feels good”, he sighed and had a content smile on his face. “Don’t make me slap you”, you countered. “Is that a way to talk to your only supply of food in here?”, he asked and clicked his tongue. “Hangman”, you warned him. “Alright, fine, you can have some of my food”, he finally gave in.

He came around the counter and sat down next to you. “Oh, thank god”, you called out as you watched him unpack a burger and the French fries. “Why ‘Thank god’? What you’d think I get?”, he asked as he pulled a face. You reached over his arm and stole two fries out of the container. They were already cold but you didn’t care.

“I don’t know. Probably something like a kale salad”, you shrugged your shoulder. “Kale salad?”, he laughed. “I don’t know what fit people eat, but I’m glad it’s apparently your cheat day”, you said and fished for another fry.

“I don’t see a knife here somewhere. You mind, if I just rip the burger in half with my hands?”, he asked, ignoring your comment and you were surprised how polite he could be all of a sudden. Apparently that southern charm and politeness peaked through from time to time. “Rip that meat, Lieutenant”, you commanded, your eyes fixed on the burger in his hands.

“Here you go”, he handed you half of the burger and pushed the fries between the two of you. You took a big bite and sighed. “Oh my god, it’s so good”, you mentioned and licked the grease off your lips. Your shoulders did a little dance of joy. You could only imagine how good it would taste if it came fresh out of the kitchen.

"I never taught it'd be fun to watch someone eat", he said surprised and it only sounded like half a joke. You looked over and saw his eyes on you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You should see me eat chocolate cake. Your head would explode", you told him with wiggling eyebrows and a playful smile. "Noted", he simply said and took a bite of his half of the burger.

You swallowed hard and not from the food in your hands. Where did that come from all of a sudden?

“Didn’t you eat at the Diner?”, he suddenly asked. There you go, there’s the old Hangman. “Not really. I ordered the typical first-date salad but was too bored to actually eat it”, you rolled your eyes. “Good old Joe”, Hangman joked. “You mean Jospeh”, you corrected him. “Of course, my apologies”, he put a hand over his heart like he was actually sorry. You let out a chuckle as you had to admit he could be funny if he wanted to and not just annoying.

You kept eating in silence and you used that moment to take a look around. Your eyes fell to the big windows where the storm was still raging on outside, rain washing down the glass. The room was illuminated with candles all over the place, bathing everything in a warm light. You turned back around, looking at the food then Jake.

You just started giggling to yourself. “What are you giggling about?”, he asked suspiciously. “I’m just laughing at this”, you said and motioned at the room. He was still confused. “I mean, I’m on a date with a guy and instead of being in this romantic situation with him, I’m here with you”, you told him.

“Ouch!”, he playfully held a hand over his heart like you had actually hurt his feelings. “Come on, you know what I mean”, you added, trying to dissolve the situation.

“You think this is romantic?”, he asked and took a sip of his drink. “You don’t?”, you asked surprised. He shrugged his shoulders.

“The poor girls that fall for you”, you shook your head and ate the little rest of your burger. You slipped off the bar stool and turned towards the room. “I mean, the rain storm raging outside, in here it’s warm and cozy. The candles give a warm light to the whole room…You either wanna cuddle up to someone or get bent over that bar stool”, you told him while walking a few steps through the bar.

As you turned around, you found him looking at you with big eyes. “What?”, you asked. Didn’t he get your joke?

“Are you coming on to me?”, he asked with a surprised look on his face, wiping his hands on the napkin from the doggy bag. “Not everybody’s coming on to you, Hangman. I’m just making conversation”, you told him with an eyeroll and turned around to the windows to watch the palm trees bending in the storm. You felt your cheeks blushing, you didn’t like to admit it but he made you nervous. Being here all alone with him with nowhere to go at the moment…

“Up for another round?”, Jake asked and broke the silence. “Yeah, sure”, you turned back around to him and walked towards the bar. “I got it”, you said as you saw him getting up and walked straight around the bar, getting two beers out of the cooler as long as they were still somewhat cold.

“We might as well open a tab”, you suggested with a chuckle and opened two bottles. You grabbed them and walked around the bar, back to your seat again. You handed him his bottle and you clinked them together.

“Okay, so if you think this setting, forced or not, isn’t romantic then what does the great Hangman consider to be romantic?”, you picked up the topic from before.

“I don’t know”, he shrugged his shoulders. “What did you do for your last girlfriend? Or current, I don’t know”, you interrogated him. “Very subtle”, he cocked an eyebrow at you. “I just need to see what I’m working with here”, you defended your question. He still looked at you like he didn’t believe you and then he sighed.

“No girlfriend”, he finally answered. “Okay, then what did you do for your last girlfriend that you considered to be romantic?”, you repeated your question. He exhaled loudly and looked at the ceiling while he tried to remember. “My last girlfriend, that was in college, uhm, I gave her something on her birthday”, he recalled. You looked at him with a blank face.

“So, you’re telling me your idea of being romantic is to remember your girlfriend’s birthday?”, you asked in disbelief. “Hey, I gave her some coupons that I had made myself”, he defended himself. “What? A ticket to bone-town?”, you asked in a stupid frat boy voice. “How did you know?”, he asked playfully surprised.

“No, it was something like a massage”, he said. “That leads to sex”, you concluded. “A foot rub”, he continued. “That leads to sex”, you repeated. “A candle light dinner”, he added. “That leads to sex”, you added once again. “I can’t win with you, can’t I?”, he asked defeated and almost sounded genuinely hurt to your ears. Almost.

“Okay, I’ll stop. But honestly, what’s really throwing me is that you supposedly didn’t have a relationship since college?”, you asked in disbelief.

“I just rather not get attached to someone. With a job like mine, there is the very real possibility that I might not come home from my missions. Also, my job’s way too demanding for me to be distracted by anything”, he explained. “Could you at least say ‘anyone’?”, you couldn’t hold back the comment.

"Sounds very lonely", you diverted from the topic, yet not that far. "It is what it is", he shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "But doesn't anyone want that human connection? Someone to come home to? I see you dating, so you must want something", you inquired.

"I'm just having fun, never anything serious. And those girls know that", he explained. “And no one’s waiting for you at home or why did you go out with that Joseph-guy?”, Hangman asked. And just like always, Hangman hit a nerve.

“He was literally the first person to ask me. He seemed okay, not too bad looking, so I said yes”, you told him with a shrug of your shoulders and scratched at the label on your bottle.

“It’s not like I have a lot of options. I just took a leap of faith. And it didn’t work out, so what?”, you added and started to sound defensive.

“You shouldn’t say yes to every person who asks you out, we all saw how that went”, he raised an eyebrow at you and took a sip of his drink.

"That's not the same", you waved it off. "How come?", he asked relentlessly. "Because you are you and I am...me", you said and gestured towards his appearance and then yours.

“That’s bull”, he called out. “No, THAT’s bullshit. Looks matter and don’t try to deny it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t take so much care of your own”, you countered. “I hear personality is the new dating trend these days”, he suggested. You snorted in response. “If you bother to get to know someone, it might be. But most of the time it doesn’t get that far”, you revealed. This conversation was getting way too real for you.

“But, what if…”, “Can we talk about something else?”, you interrupted him. “Sure. What you wanna talk about?”, he asked, a bit startled by your sudden mood change.

“How about your ancient views on romance?”, you suggested and tried to lighten the mood again. Hangman rolled his eyes and sighed defeated. “And what do you suggest? Should I bring candles everywhere I go and make it rain?”, he mocked you.

“Ha-ha”, you said dryly. “I don’t care what you think, for me that’s romantic”, you defended your views. “It’s different for everybody, there are several love languages. You have to figure out what your partner’s love language is to be truly romantic with them. I, for example, like the little things that let you know the other person is thinking of you, listens to you and that you're important enough to them that they remember”, you said and your voice was almost a whisper. It was weird being so honest with Jake of all people.

“What would be your love language?”, you asked and put the focus on him. Hangman just shrugged his shoulders. “What other love languages are there?”, he questioned. “There’s physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time, gifts. There are literally so many”, you counted on your fingers. “I like getting blow-jobs”, he suggested and laughed at your shocked facial expression. “That must count as physical touch”, he commented. “That also counts as gross”, you retorted.

“If I have to pick one, then I’ll guess it’s physical touch”, he conceded. “See? Was that so hard?”, you asked and nudged his arm with your elbow.

“A good example for that would be dancing with someone”, you mentioned off the top of your head. “Like we danced?”, he asked and startled you with his comment. You couldn’t decipher the expression on his face. You cleared your throat as you averted your eyes from him and just brushed it off.

"Our little dance last time was cute, but…", you said and grabbed your phone. "But there is more to it than just swaying from side to side", you continued. When you looked at him again, you found a questioning look on his face.

"God, I have to teach you so much", you sighed. You put on one of your favorite songs and placed your phone back on the counter.

Golden Hour by JVKE started playing.

You held out your hand. "Dance with me", it wasn't a question, more a gentle order. "What if I don't wanna dance with you?", he asked but his protest sounded half-heartedly at best as he was getting up from his seat. "Am I keeping you from something right now?", you asked and looked outside into the darkness around the building, rain running down the big windows like a waterfall.

With a huff, he grabbed your right hand with his left and placed his right hand on your back. Your left hand automatically moved to his shoulder. He pulled you a bit closer and stood up straighter.

"Dancing is not only a great way to create physical touch, it also allows you to connect and build trust. The man leads and the woman decides to follow if she wants to", you started your lecture. As a response, he started walking a few steps forward, pushing you back with his hand around yours. He caught you a bit by surprise, but you managed to follow without stepping on his toes.

When you looked up into his eyes, you saw that he was focused on your face as he led you through the open bar space with safe steps, giving you little pushes and pulls on your hand. You looked at him surprised with big eyes when you had completed a few steps.

"My mother had me take ballroom dance lessons as a teen", he simply said. "Huh, you're full of surprises, Jake Seresin", you said and after a smirk from him, he had you spinning away from him and pulled you back in.

You moved another few circles before he lifted his hand and had you turning, spinning you out in front of him again and pulling you back until you were giggling.

At the end of the song, he even dipped you down which for a second made you wide-eyed, fearing he would drop you. But his strong arms and hands had a good grip on you and brought you back up safely.

The next song that started playing automatically was Howling by SYML and the two of you kept dancing, but the mood in the room changed. It's a more sensual song and you both felt it.

You looked up at his face and found his piercing green eyes looking at you. You were so captivated by his stare that you couldn’t look away. You felt goose bumps spread across your whole body. His hand on your lower back pushed you a bit closer and you swallowed.

Your bodies were swaying from side to side. Jake put your right hand on his chest, right above his heart and covered it with his own. You didn’t know if the pulsation in your fingertips came from your own racing heart or if it was maybe his.

Your left hand moved from his shoulder to his neck, your fingertips grazing the hair at the nape of his neck. You didn’t decide to do that, your body moved on its own.

He moved so slowly that you almost didn’t notice it as you were still looking deep into his eyes but suddenly his lips were merely an inch from yours. His eyes looked down at your lips and back up to your eyes as if he was asking for permission. Your hand on the back of his neck pushed slightly against him, almost as an okay.

Jake lowered his head further and suddenly his lips were brushing over yours, light like a feather. Your stomach jumped at the contact and it sent a tingle down your spine. He pulled back slightly and your head followed him. You noticed how a little smirk formed on his lips. That jerk was actually teasing you.

You wanted to pull back, too, showing him that he couldn’t just play his stupid games with you but he had already started a fire within you that you couldn’t just ignore.

With your hand still on his neck, you pushed him towards you and your lips crashed onto his. You inhaled sharply through your nose at the firm contact and your fingers dug into his skin.

Your hand that was placed on his chest, fisted the fabric of his hoodie. Jake’s hands cupped your face and held you steady as it was his turn to press further into you. Your lips moved on his, sucking on his bottom lip. His tongue darted out and glided along your upper lip. You almost immediately opened your mouth and let him in.

As your tongues danced with each other like your bodies did before, one of his hands moved into your hair, cradling your head and his other hand moved to your hips. His fingers were touching the stripe of naked skin between your jeans and your shirt and it made you moan against his lips.

With his body, he moved yours backwards until you felt the edge of a table on your butt. With quick hands, he lifted you onto the table and you gasped in surprise, letting go of his lips only for a second before he was kissing you again, stepping between your open thighs.

His hands roamed your back, running through your hair, they seemed to be everywhere. Your fingers found the zipper of his hoodie and pulled it down. As your fingers touched his bare skin, you could swear you heard him growl. Your fingertips ran from his pecks down to his abs. You wondered how they might feel ever since you saw them on the beach the other day when he played football with the others.

With your hands on his hips, you pulled him against you, his pelvis rocking forward against yours and you yelped at the contact. You were so horny for him, you could really do something stupid.

“Hello? Someone here?”, you suddenly heard and Jake pulled off you with a jump backwards. You were breathing so heavily, it took you a second to realize that there was another person in the bar. You looked at Jake with wide eyes and noticed he was equally out of breath.

You jumped off the table and Jake pulled up the zipper of his hoodie just at the moment that the person came around the corner into the main bar area. When he pushed back the hoodie of his rain coat, you saw that it was Jimmy.

“Jimmy?! What are you doing here?”, you asked honestly surprised. You walked over to him, quickly running your hands through your disheveled hair, trying to get it back to normal. Your lips felt swollen and were still tingling from Jake’s kisses.

“Hey, Y/N”, he greeted you. His raincoat was completely drenched. “Penny called me. She hadn’t heard from you for a few hours and was worried”, he told you. “Oh, hey Hangman”, he greeted Jake, seemingly only noticing him now. “Hey, Jimmy”, Jake raised his hand in greeting and came over to the bar, taking a long sip of his drink. You realized you needed a drink as well. Your cheeks were burning, they must be bright red, but thankfully the light of the candles was too low for that to be noticeable.

“Ehm, Jake was at the Diner when I got the call from Penny and he offered to drive me. The power is out and we couldn’t get it running and then the weather warning came on our phones and we couldn’t leave and now you’re here”, you realized you were rambling. You could just about stop yourself from adding “And nothing else happened”.

“I figured that the power’s out, that happens for far less”, Jimmy told you. “We couldn’t make sense of your make-shift fuse box”, Jake commented. “Yeah, that’s a Jimmy original. Keeps my job safe”, Jimmy told him with a wink.

“I better take a look at it”, he announced and turned on his flashlight. Old-school, you thought to yourself. “I’ll go with you”, Jake said and followed Jimmy through the door to the little hallway, not before throwing you a look over his shoulder, accompanied with a little smirk and it made your stomach flutter. You shot him a smirk and shook your head. That was a close one and you didn’t know why you felt caught by Jimmy, but you did.

You grabbed your bottle of beer and downed your drink with two big gulps. You took a deep breath and looked around the room. Yup, that happened. You grabbed your phone and turned off the music.

Just a moment later, the light went on in the whole bar and the sudden brightness hurt your eyes. You started to blow out the candles as the two men came back into the room. “Oh my god, you really did it”, you said impressed and kept collecting the candles to put them all on the bar.

“Now that the power’s back, I’ll take a look around the bar and see if everything’s okay. You can go home”, Jimmy offered. “Is it safe to drive home?”, you asked and put the last candle on the counter. You would put them back into the cabinet tomorrow and let them cool down over night.

“I got here fine, it’s okay”, Jimmy waved off your concern. “Great, thanks”, Jake said and grabbed his shirt from the chair it was drying on.

“Jimmy, are you sure? I can stay with you”, you offered and suddenly were nervous to be alone with Jake. “No, it’s fine. You already came here. I don’t wanna keep you kids”, he said and gave you a little wink, which you prayed Hangman didn’t see. “You can drive her home, right?”, Jimmy asked over your shoulder and checked with Hangman. “Sure thing, Jim”, Jake answered him.

“Okay, but be safe when you get back out there again, okay?”, you said to Jimmy and got on your toes to press a quick peck to his cheek before you turned around to collect your phone, your purse and your shirt that was drying on another chair. You stuffed your phone and shirt into your purse and walked over to the rack by the entrance where Jake already waited with your denim jacket in his hands, his own already put on.

He helped you in your jacket which somehow surprised you, even after what the two of you had just done. “Thanks”, you mumbled shyly. You walked over to the door and looked outside, the rain still pouring down. “Ready?”, he asked and looked at you. You looked up at him and honestly didn’t know that you were.

The drive to your apartment was silent, but not in a bad way. You both indulged in your thoughts, a smile creeping onto your lips when you thought back to the kiss. You let out little sighs that you didn’t even notice but Jake did.

When you arrived at your apartment building, Jake drove to the curb and turned off the motor. Neither of you wanted this to end just yet.

“Thank you for driving me home. And, for checking with me on the bar”, you spoke first. “Sure, no problem”, he mentioned and looked over to you. Under his eyes on you, you felt your cheeks blushing again and looked away. “That night took an interesting turn”, he said and his words made you look over to him again.

“Yeah? Which part?”, you asked and when his eyes met yours again, you both chuckled. “Hard to say”, he replied. “It was probably shocking to see me on a date”, you mocked yourself in a playful tone. “Poor Joseph, he never had a chance”, Jake commented, over-pronouncing his name and it made you giggle. “Yeah, I gotta be careful with whom I say yes to”, you thought out loud.

“You know that I can’t keep it to myself that you had ballroom dancing lessons as a teen, right? That is too good not to share”, you said after a few moments of silence. “Do it, I don’t care. I’m great at dancing”, he countered, a smug smile on his face. “Yeah, you are. Amongst other things”, you complimented him and looked out of the windshield, biting down on your bottom lip with a smile. The tone in your voice made him look at you again, cocking his head to the side. “Yeah?”, he asked as if he didn’t know that he was a great kisser.

"Mh-hm”, you confirmed, looking at your fingers. “But there will always be one undeniable fact", you said and looked over at him. "What?", he said with a light smile playing around the corners of his lips.

"Rooster kissed me before you did", you said, remembering when you sang Great Balls of Fire with Bradley and he jokingly pressed a kiss to your lips mid song like the lyrics suggested.

Jake let his head fall back against the headrest of his seat and exhaled loudly as he remembered that moment in the bar. A chuckle escaped your lips.

"But not like this, though?", Jake commented and looked over at you, his green eyes piercing into yours. "No, not like this", you almost whispered, struck by a flashback of your kiss at the bar and resisting the urge to touch your lips.

The air between you in the car was filled with electricity as you just looked at each other. Even though the voice in the back of your head screamed that you were just imagining it, your foggy, aroused brain relished in the atmosphere. You never experienced something like this and you wanted to hold on to it as long as you could.

But all good things had to come to an end sometime. “I think I should go inside. It’s late”, you said and played with your keys that you had grabbed from your purse. “Mhm”, Jake commented. You waited for him to say something, anything. Asking if he could come up or suggesting to go to his place or…you didn’t know what you wanted to hear.

You waited for another moment and then put your hand on the door handle. “Okay, goodnight”, you said and got out of the car. “Night”, you heard before you closed the door and ran to your door in the rain. It had gotten lighter but was still at a rate where you didn’t want to stay out for too long.

You opened the main entrance with the keys and got in. You turned around in the open door to find Jake still waiting in his car to see if you got in safely.

You raised your hand for a little wave goodbye and you saw him do the same before he started his engine again and drove off.

You walked over to the elevator and pushed the button for your floor before you leaned against the elevator wall, exhaling loudly.

At the beginning of your night, you’d had never thought it would end with you being kissed by Jake Hangman Seresin of all people. Your fingers touched your lips at the thought of it and a light smile played around your lips.

Hadn’t Jimmy shown up out of the blue, God knows what you would have done. You really couldn’t say, if you were completely honest. So, you should be thankful that he had prevented something that you probably would have regretted after.

But why were you so disappointed then?

Next chapter: Part 6

#jake hangman seresin #the girl behind the bar #jake hangman seresin x plus-size reader #glen powell #top gun maverick #glen powell fanfiction #glen powell imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin imagine

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artbyblastweave · 1 month ago

Note

To be honest, while I know that you've discussed a Worm/Marvel "crossover" before, considering how unusually different both Ultimate Universes are from mainline Marvel, how would a crossover with Worm go for those?

(Side note: I'm mainly asking for the potential thought experiment of: what if Cauldron met the Maker and all of the immense bullshit that would result from that.)

I don't think I'm totally capable of answering the back half of this ask because I haven't read The Maker comprehensively- Aside from his pre-heel turn stint in Ultimate FF, It's basically only Secret Wars, a couple of the times Ewing used him, and the current New Ultimate Universe.

So what I find interesting about this prospect is that Worm and Ultimate Marvel are very aesthetically compatible, right, you aren't going to drop one character into the other's setting and have them constantly going "what the fuck is going on" the way you would if we subbed in 616 Marvel at it's most four-color. But the worldbuilding and themes are actually very divergent in ways that are interesting to look at. Namely-

Worm is a grim, grim setting, but it's also attempting to replicate the status quo at Marvel and DC where, despite occasional attempts at government sanction or integration, there's fundamentally a weirdly high cultural tolerance for independent vigilantism as long as the person doing it is wearing a costume. Their version of Registration- The Protectorate- is a very carrot heavy initiative, when we see Kid Win making the recruitment pitch to Chariot it's all about the support you get, the funding, the backup, the PR help. Individual street level heroes get nailed to the wall or hung out to dry all the time, but collectively, they're granted a lot of discretion in that they're allowed to exist at all. And the fundamental reason for this is that the government is scared of them. They might be able to smack down individual upstarts who try to go full warlord or revolutionary, but they don't control the overall distribution of powers and there are so many of these assholes, three-quarters of whom go career criminal due to some combination of trauma, material want, neuroticism or ideology. So any set of norms that gets as many of these people as possible to behave in a slightly-less-antisocial manner is something that they're going to roll with. Worm is a world held hostage by the typical superhero paradigm, buckling under its weight. Crucial to this dynamic is that powers aren't a man-made phenomenon, and they're barely a man-influenced phenomenon via Cauldron.

But with the Ultimate Universe, a major pillar of the deconstruction and the worldbuilding is that superheroes would not be allowed to operate in the typical wild west paradigm. There's a much stronger divide between sanctioned heroes (The Ultimates, The Fantastic Four), grey-zone heroes like the X-Men, and then the out-and-out outlaw street level heroes like Daredevil and Spider-Man. A major plot point is that Nick Fury and his spooks very predictably figure out who Spider-Man is almost immediately; he's only able to continue operating as a street-level hero in the usual manner due to Fury's implicit sanction, because Fury is trying to groom him to eventually join The Ultimates. Moreover, a lot of the rest of the street-level capes (as depicted in Millar's Ultimates) are cast as genuinely incompetent puds, only not cracked down on because there's no real reason to. (Note that I have a seething hatred for this particular beat in practice because it deprived us of an Ultimate Luke Cage worth having, but I get what Millar was gesturing at with it.) All of this, likewise, is downstream of the fact that powers are almost totally a man-made phenomenon, with almost all superhumans being downstream of Military-Industrial Complex attempts at reproducing Captain America; it's not an out-of-control supernatural phenomena that they're trying to get in on, It's a government-made phenomenon that leaks like a sieve and eventually spirals out of control. The Ultimate Universe is fundamentally about Hubris in a way that Worm isn't.

Both settings converge on a state of societal collapse due to the advent of superpowers; Ultimate Marvel was gesturing at an impending superhuman-driven World-War Three for a while before things spiraled into the comparably destructive nonsense of Ultimatum, The Maker, The (partial?) balkanization of the U.S. and the rest of the crisis cavalcade that led into the 2015 Secret Wars and the total destruction of that universe. Worm suffered the much more tightly-directed Apocalyptic Bad Time with which we're all familiar.

As for a crossover premise, I'd have to say that post-gm Taylor getting marooned on 1610 and winding up in the orbit of 1610 Peter Parker specifically- as opposed to the MCU or 616 versions, with whom I've seen this done- is an underexamined hook. Ultimate Spidey represents a deft integration of Peter's best and worst personality traits. The early-run ditko-style dickishness is recontextualized as an anger about the state of the world, the crazy-making sense that bullies and dictators appear to have free run of the world and nobody but him is doing anything about it. Which, given the state of The Ultimate Universe, falls in the middle ground between typical teenaged myopia and a sober assessment of what he's up against.

Remind you of anyone?

#parahumans #worm #wormblr #worm analysis #ultimate marvel #thoughts #meta #ask #asks #worm web serial

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tiredfox64 · 6 months ago

Note

I already sent this ask but accidentally sent it before I could fully type it out, I apologize 💀

But I was wondering if you could write a Lin Kuei x reader where she finds a stray kitten outside and takes it in to nurse it back to health. She probably keeps the kitten hidden in her room. Tomas probably finds out about it first and she’s just like “please don’t tell Bi-Han” So the two of them help raise the kitten and try to keep it a secret from Kuai Liang and Bi-Han.

Thank you 🩶💛💙

Calico Critters

Yip notes: No need to apologize! Ah yes, the cat distribution system is working just right. It been working for me for years

Pairings: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: I hope you’re not allergic to cats

You’ve always wanted to own a pet of your own. It didn’t matter if it was a shaggy dog or a wimpy tortoise. You wanted to love and care for something when the world could not give it to them. But your family was not big on owning pets. They would tell you they were too much responsibility and cost a lot of money which you understood. You thought you would have a chance to care for an animal when you were an adult but that hope dwindled quickly. Bi-Han would not allow you to be distracted by even a moss ball. Unless that pet was a powerful stallion, you weren't getting anything.

But the universe doesn’t listen to Bi-Han. The universe gives when the time is right and that time is now. It is your destiny and right to own a pet. And what better way to start your loving journey than with the sweet love and attitude of a kitty cat.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You just finished practicing for the day, the winds pricking your skin even with how hot you were. If you stay outside for any longer you’ll risk getting arthritis in your joints. And boy is that hell in the winter and summertime.

You were stopped by a sound that you thought was the wind at first. A squeaking that was unfamiliar to you. There was nothing in Artika that could make that sound. Not even a seal would make this high-pitched squeaking noise. You followed the direction of the noise, bringing you closer to a fern bush. You moved the leaves out of the way and came across interesting colors. Orange, black, and white with a pair of green eyes. Oh my goodness, it’s a kitten! The poor thing was shivering and being pushed by the wind. It seemed to be alone. There was no mother cat around or even any siblings. This one might have been the runt of the litter.

“Oh, you poor thing.” You said softly as you lightly picked up the kitten in your hands.

It, or more like she since this was clearly a calico, immediately started nuzzling in your hand to gain some warmth. You couldn’t do much since your hands were starting to freeze as well but it was better than the rough ground and thin ferns. You started looking around to see if there was anyone else around. There were luckily none to see what you were about to do. You moved your uniform around to find a spot to stuff the kitten into. The only place that worked was your chest area. You let the kitten snuggle up against your uniform as you started making your way inside.

Your arms were crossed over your chest area as you took quick steps toward your room. It didn’t matter if someone had something to ask you or was asking if you were alright, you had to get this kitten somewhere safe. You had to ignore Bi-Han as well. That was a risky choice, you know how much that man hates when no one listens to him. There were other things on your mind.

Finally, you got back inside your warm room and let the kitten out. She was still shivering but it reduced. You grabbed the softest blanket you had before rolling her up in it. She was like a burrito in the softest tortilla ever. The squeaking sound she produced ceased and she finally opened her eyes fully since there was no snow pelting them.

They were as green as the fern you took her from. Her irises were not slit but like big orbs. There was already a connection made. You are her savior, her new mother. This world is too cruel for such a pure being to live in. You must protect and keep this calico. She needs you. If you try giving her to another family you’ll break her heart.

Have I guilted you enough?

Screw Bi-Han and his rules! You’re keeping her. You just need to keep her hidden. Good luck with that.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Your family was right, pets are a big responsibility. You had no issue with getting supplies for your kitty like litter, toys, and food. But goodness that little mouth can be loud.

Meow! Meow! Meow!

She never stops. Her mind is too small and fragile to realize that she is creating sound herself. She speaks but is there truly meaning behind her words? No. Her brain functions but not fully. It will still be a while before she can comprehend that she has control over her mouth. For now, she will scream for the gods to listen to her cries. Or she will just scream at you to feed her more fish.

You tried bottle-feeding her some formula to help calm her down. It works for a little before she screams. She drinks, she enjoys, she screams. What more does she want, she doesn’t even understand trigonometry. Why is she having a crisis?

Meow! Meow! Meow!

Tomas stopped walking in the hallway. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why did he hear a high-pitched meow coming from your room? What are you doing in there?

He walked closer to the door and placed his ear against it. He heard you speaking to someone, saying that they needed to quiet down and that no one could find out about them. There were more meows after that. He’s not going to wait for the answer to hit him in the face. He’s gonna investigate this for himself.

“What is that noise?” Tomas asked as he opened the door. His eyes widened once he saw something in a blanket and a bottle in your hand.

There is no easy way to explain this. You slowly turned around to show the colorful kitty in your arms. It was a relief to Tomas to see that you weren’t holding a baby but it’s still confusing. He was about to ask you why you have a kitten but you already started begging.

“Please don’t tell Bi-Han. You know he’ll tell me to get rid of her and I just can’t do that. Just look at her.” You held up the kitty burrito in front of Tomas.

“Where did you find a cat? When did you bring it here?” There were a thousand questions running through Tomas’ head but he did take a moment to look at her.

For once she quieted down. Her big, green eyes looked into Tomas’ soul. Those eyes were begging him not to snitch. They beg him to love her, care for her, to be a father to her. You were right, Bi-Han would tell you to get her out. Her small size or pure eyes would not win over his heart as it was doing with Tomas’ at that moment. Her little paws began clawing out of the blanket before stretching them to the sky. Her paws spread out and he could see the light pink toe beans that were so tempting to squish. Ah, it’s just too cute!

“You still need to tell me how you found it.” He reminded you.

You gave him all the details. You told him how you found her, what you did after, when you got all the supplies, and how long you’ve had her. You’ve only had her for a week and she’s beginning to desire more solids. You’ve been taking some of your fish from dinner and bringing it back to your room to feed her. Somehow no one has noticed until this point. You were doing well, she’s just a loudmouth.

“You seem to have your hands full. It’s like you became a mother overnight.” He joked.

She started taking big, wobbly steps on your bed. She climbs over the lumps in your sheets with determination. Her wobbly legs carried her to Tomas who was resting on your bed as you relayed everything to him. She screams and she is heard. Tomas laughs a little before trying to pet her. For some reason, she falls and begins to roll off the bed. He panics, rightfully so, as he tries to catch her in his big hands.

“Nooo, why would she do that?” He asked like he was truly heartbroken. He might have actually been heartbroken.

“She’s dramatic.” You replied.

Now she’s purring in his hands like she didn’t just cause him to have a heart attack. His thumb lightly pet her head and flicks her ears back and forth.

“Wait, did you even name her? You never once mentioned a name?” He pointed out.

“I was more concerned about hiding her than naming her. But I guess now would be a good time to think of a name.”

You two sat there for a good few minute trying to think of a name for this little scoundrel. This rapscallion who lies upon Tomas’ hands and receives pets from him. What to name a unique creature like her?

“How about Ionnah? I think it’s unique just like her.” Tomas suggested.

“Ionnah, huh? That sounds cool! I love that for her. Ionnah it is.”

She was already getting used to the name considering her head perked up once you repeated it. Now this secret lies with you and Tomas. You two are responsible for her. You both must hide her and care for her. Congrats, you have become cat parents.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

She was easier to manage with the help of Tomas. He brought her more food and since he had more freedom to leave he took the time to get cat food for Ionnah. He even started to teach her to be a hunter like him. And by teaching that means letting her chase a cat toy in the shape of a mouse. Yup, that’s a lethal predator right there. She’ll be taking down some of the clansmen in no time.

But you two could not be more obvious. You do realize Kuai Liang sees all, right? You can’t hide anything from that man he will always get suspicious of something. He’s been seeing you both whisper to each other and giggle about stuff before sneaking into your room. Tomas always shuts the door quickly and locks it. Are you two…dating?!

Oh nah, he needs to know now. Why would his brother hide anything like that from him? He doesn’t like that at all. Kuai Liang kept a close eye on Tomas, almost mad dogging him until he would say something. It didn’t work because you and Tomas weren’t dating. You’re just parenting together which could be like dating if you fancy that.

Ah whatever, Kuai Liang needs to sharpen his kusarigama. And you both need to figure out WHERE THE FUCK YOU LEFT IONNAH!

“I didn’t realize I left the door slightly open. I was so tired after that mission.” You were crying into Tomas’ arms after you couldn’t find Ionnah.

“It’s going to be alright. We’ll find her. She couldn’t have gotten far with those tiny legs of hers.” He tried soothing you before taking your hand to look around the temple.

Ionnah was on a journey of her own. She may be small but she is mighty. She was looking around for some extra food since you and Tomas figured out you were feeding her fish multiple times a day without knowing. She likes her carp. But her green eyes saw something else that she was interested in and her slit pupils became wide.

She saw the rope that was connected to Kuai Liang’s kusarigama. The other end with the kunai on it was hanging off the table, the rope occasionally waving when Kuai Liang would move it to sharpen the other side. Those hunting practices Tomas was giving her kicked in and she bolted toward the rope with her claws out. She pounced on it, sinking her claws into it. She is so light that Kuai Liang didn’t feel anything pulling on his weapon. He only noticed something was wrong when he heard you sniffling near the doorway. Tomas’ eyes were angled down in shock as he was unsure of what to do to not make Kuai Liang look down. Ah, too late he just did. That was when he noticed the furball made of white, black, and orange gnawing at his rope.

“Huh? How did that get here?” He questioned before leaning down and grabbing her by the back of the neck.

She immediately let go of the rope in response to the grab. Kuai Liang lifted her up to his face to get a better look. She looked perfectly healthy, too healthy to have just strolled into the Lin Kuei temple. Something ain’t connecting. He looked past Ionnah to see Tomas coming towards him with his hands out as if asking to pass her to him.

“Can we have her back please?” Tomas asked softly like that would stop Kuai Liang from asking questions.

“Explain.” He said bluntly.

“Okay.”

You went over what happened again. You added on the fact that you begged Tomas not to say anything and he agreed to help you take care of Ionnah. All the while she continuously purrs in Kuai Liang’s lap as he pets her. She loves how warm he is. He’s like a sentient toasty blanket to her.

“I agree that Bi-Han would have told you to get rid of her. I would have agreed with him but now I see that she has not caused any distractions in your two. You both have been training still and doing missions. She has caused no issues.” Kuai Liang said as he looked down at her.

“So you won’t tell Bi-Han?” You wanted to double-check.

“No, I will not. But you might need extra help seeing that this slip up of yours could have gone wrong if she made her way to Bi-Han. I would like to help out. Plus, she is adorable.” He smiled softly as he smoothed out her fur.

This was awesome! Three parents for this little lady. One who is a 24/7 warm blanket for her, one who is constantly playing with her, and one who is a mother at all hours of the day. She is surrounded by so much love and warmth. Hopefully, no bitter cold will envelop her again.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You three have spent a lot of time in your room now. Every day after dinner you all go to your room to spend time with Ionnah. Every time the door opens she gets up from where she is and runs up to you while meowing. Her eyes are like boba every time she looks at you and her tail waves back and forth. She is that boost of serotonin that you all need.

Other than her mouse toy, Kuai Liang has figured out she loves rope. She loves climbing it and gnawing at it. He got her some rope that didn’t have sharp pieces of metal at both ends. She’ll start getting the zoomies when Tomas and Kuai Liang start playing with her. She will switch between the rope and the mouse before doing circles. You’d be there laughing at her cute antics. She’s gotten bigger and stronger since you first found her shivering in the cold. It warms your heart to see her enjoying her life with so much love around her. This is a better life than being stuck outside.

You’re still too suspicious. It’s the same thing except Bi-Han has noticed now. He notices how there are more whispers between you, Tomas, and Kuai Liang. He’s seen you all rush into your room. Though he didn’t come to the same conclusion Kuai Liang did, he was still suspicious. He believed the issue was in your room and he was right. That’s why he made you three go out on a mission so he could snoop around your room.

You were concerned about leaving Ionnah alone since Tomas and Kuai Liang would be with you. But Kuai Liang told you to lock the door and there would be no problems. He or his brother could help unlock the door once you guys get back. You thought that would be reasonable so you accepted the mission from Bi-Han. You did what you were instructed and locked the door. But do you think a lock will stop your grandmaster? Never.

When you guys left he immediately made his way towards your room. Of course, the door was locked but Bi-Han was quick to think of a solution. He made a pick made of hard ice to jam into the doorknob and it worked like a charm. He opened the door and Ionnah thought it was her parents. She leaped off your bed and began running towards the door until she saw Bi-Han. Her ears immediately folded down as she backed up. Her tail went down and she made that whining noise to alert that she did not feel safe. He is not her father.

Bi-Han’s eyebrows furrow in frustration as he watches her give him warning signs. She sure had an attitude.

“A calico…interesting…”

“How could this happen again?” You started crying.

When you three came back and Kuai Liang tried to pick the lock he realized it was already unlocked. You three couldn’t find Ionnah anywhere. Not under the sheets, the bed, in the closet, under the dresser, or even in the drawers. You all ripped your room apart and could not find her anywhere.

“Do you think she could have snuck outside?” Tomas asked Kuai Liang.

“That is impossible, she hates the cold. She would not willingly go outside even to chase after us. She has to be in the temple still.” He said.

You all scattered around the place trying to find even a hint of her. There was no fur anywhere to hint at her being in a certain area. She did not respond to her name or even pspspsps. No meows or screams from her. You all met up in the middle again and none of you had any good news. But that’s when Tomas noticed something strange. He pointed to the fish pieces on the floor. There was a path of them all leading to…Bi-Han’s office! Oh gosh, he found her!

You three burst into his office expecting him to be holding Ionnah captive. Instead, you saw her lying on his desk while he worked on some paperwork. He sees he has to order more fish for the clan. Ionnah immediately picked her head up and jumped off his desk to run up to you. You picked her up and gave her many kisses, thanking the gods for keeping her safe surprisingly.

“I expect to hear that your mission was completed,” Bi-Han said casually.

You all were shocked. It was like he didn’t notice the kitten that was once on his desk.

“Brother, are you not going to ask-“

“Ask about the cat that you have been hiding away even though I told you that you were not allowed to own any pets,” Bi-Han said with a clear attitude.

You looked down all guiltily even though you have proven to be able to take care of a kitten. Tomas and Kuai Liang were not happy with their brother and his cruel tone. They were still confused about why he even had her in the room. He was ready to answer that though.

“I was wondering where the runt of the litter was. I was surprised to see it was a calico since they are rare. She does not look like her mother but she does have her fluffy coat.”

This confused you more until Bi-Han got up and walked over to a corner of his office. That’s when you notice the sort of fort made from blankets. He lifted one of the corners to show a bunch of kittens and one cat. That’s Ionnah’s family! She really was the runt of the litter!

You all got a closer look and saw that the mother was a Serbian cat with light gray fur. Her babies seemed to be a mix of Serbian and Russian blues. Some had darker fur while others had lighter fur. What they all had in common was the mother’s fluffy fur that was well-kept and her green eyes. Yup, that’s definitely Ionnah’s mother. Bi-Han placed the blanket back over to allow them to rest.

So Bi-Han was the one who took the rest of the family in? Who would have thought! Not even his brothers would have guessed that. What was he supposed to do, leave them out there to freeze to death? He can be evil and cruel but he’s not a monster. If he can manage a clan he can also manage a litter of kittens. There is enough fish to go around even for Ionnah which was the only way he could get her to leave your room. She would not allow his cold hands to pick her up.

“But I thought we weren’t allowed to have pets.”

“You are not allowed to have pets but I am allowed. I’m the grandmaster, it is my choice. Plus, they are useful when it comes to getting rid of mice.” The second point makes sense but the first is bitchy of Bi-Han.

“So…does that mean you are keeping Ionnah for yourself?” You asked in a sad tone, thinking Bi-Han would keep her for himself since he is the only one allowed to have pets around here.

“Why would I keep her when she does not allow me to touch her? There is no point. You can keep her but remember she belongs to the Lin Kuei.” It’s important that he adds in that last part.

You were extremely relieved to hear that and so were Tomas and Kuai Liang. That means Ionnah is still yours and you all get to do whatever with her. She can live with you and have other cats to spend time with if she chooses to. She’ll get all the fish she wants and if there are any mice around that’s an extra treat. Good thing Tomas was already training her. She’ll be the best mice hunter the Lin Kuei has ever had!

Yap notes: Speaking of cats here's my co-writer who sometimes distracts me:

Also I do have calico critters that my bestie gifted me for Christmas which I gifted her a cat set as well:

Also that card in the middle was cause i didn’t wanna put a divider or do a transition cause i got lazy and I just want more of my ice cream cake. Adiós!

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fernsproutxx · 7 months ago

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GR96

@fusionspruntcityjournal

So how do you produce electricity with living plants? Simply by using the natural processes that already occur. In short: the plant produces organic matter via photosynthesis. Only part of this organic matter is then used for its own growth. The rest is excreted via the roots. Around the roots, bacteria feed on the organic matter and they release electrons. If you’re able to harvest the electrons into an electrode, you can couple the first electrode to a counter-electrode and build an electrical circuit, like in a battery. The electrons flow back into the natural system via the counter-electrode, so it’s completely circular. Because we use the natural processes around the plant, nature is not harmed. It works day and night, summer and winter. It only stops when the plant and its surroundings completely dry up or freeze over.

Sedum Oviferum

Sedum pachyphyllum is a ground-hugging succulent that spreads by rooting fallen stems and leaves. The succulent also goes by the names “Cerise Moonstones” or “Mauve Pebbles”. The short and stumpy round leaves have a light silvery-purple color; positioned at a right angles to the stem and curve upward, which in the wintertime, the tips of said leaves will turn into a notorious red.

Sedum Oviferum is a succulent that is very easy to grow and maintain. It is a resilient plant that can tolerate drought, moist and dry soils, and when given adequate exposure to sunlight and sufficient water, Cerise Moonstones will thrive outdoors. The Sedum Oviferum succulent grows at its best with regular exposure to sunlight. If Mauve Pebbles are planted in an area in a garden that gets plenty of sunlight per day, you will be rewarded with bright coloured leaves and flowers. In winter and early spring, Cerise Moonstones actively grow and produce blooms featuring red-orange petals and sepals that have the same pigmentation as the leaves. The flowers produced by Cerise Moonstones have a bell shape and a sugary fragrance.

Subterranean Clover

Trifolium subterraneum is also known as the subterranean clover (often shortened to sub clover), or subterranean trefoil. The plant's name comes from its underground seed development, a characteristic not possessed by other clovers. It can thrive in poor-quality soil where other clovers cannot survive.

This species is self-fertilizing, unlike most legume forage crops such as alfalfa and other clovers, which are pollinated by insects, especially honeybees. It is also grown in places where the extreme ranges of soil type and quality, rainfall, and temperature make the variable tolerances of sub clover especially useful.

Functionality

GR96 are powered by any plant of choosing on their back pod (the one we are going to discuss has a giant Sedum Oviferum and multiple sub clovers to operate) which is held in place by five strong suction cups. They’re manufactured for community gardens (strictly only one per garden), but they can also be bought by high class citizens for private properties, though at a way bigger cost since they’re financed by the city.

They can use their hands as scissors, shovels, and for watering (hence the big forearms, for storing the water), the latter which they do by dipping their hands in a bucket, opening the valve on their forearms so they can fill them up and releasing the water from the pinholes on their palms. Their “eyes” are actually a screen that can show plenty expressions, but the two circles above that peripheral screen are the real environmental sensors. They also have the same sensors on their ankles for inspecting the lower plants and ground without the need of kneeling, and their feet are shaped in a way so that weight is evenly distributed, lowering the chances of damaging a plant if they were to step on it. The ear like protrusions are small solar panels, used as backup energy (they don’t have any communication properties). Their speaker aka their “voice” is the mohawk-like structure on the top (which also has their series barcode 128 on the lower back), but when they speak there are these strips at the sides of the face mask that light up with the volume. The mask (non removable) has a set of pipes that are used for analyzing the air quality and humidity of the area surrounding them.

#my art #fusionsprunt #fusionsprunt oc #fusionsprunt clover #i’ll reblog this again later with their lore and alt design #the sedum oviferum is a fictional succulent i came up with since i couldn’t find one that i liked lmao #literally said fuck it it’s my oc i make the rules #[slaps a giant plant inside]#the energy gathering segment is based on a real article!#in its current state it can only power small leds #but i like to imagine a future where that energy could power full fledged robots :0

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mysticstronomy · 3 months ago

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CAN HUMANS LIVE ON JUPITER'S MOON, EUROPA??

Blog#442

Saturday, October 5th, 2024.

Welcome back,

Life is abundant on Earth, but we haven’t yet found it anywhere else in the universe. How do we search for life beyond our home planet? Scientists say we should look for three key ingredients that make life possible: liquid water, chemistry, and energy. Also, life takes time to develop. We should look for life on worlds where sufficient time has passed for life to get started.

Jupiter’s icy moon Europa may have these essential ingredients and is as old as Earth. NASA is sending the Europa Clipper spacecraft to conduct a detailed exploration of Europa and investigate whether the icy moon, with its subsurface ocean, has the capability to support life. Understanding Europa’s habitability will help scientists better understand the potential for finding life beyond our planet and guide us in our search.

Astrobiology is the study of the origin, evolution, and distribution of life in the universe.

This multidisciplinary field investigates the extremes of life on Earth to inform its search for life in the universe. It encompasses characterizing habitable environments in preparation to search for life.

Liquid water tops the list of ingredients for life, and Europa has lots of it. Scientists think Europa has a salty ocean beneath its icy crust with about twice as much water than all of Earth's oceans combined. Water dissolves nutrients for organisms to eat, transports important chemicals within living cells, supports metabolism, and allows those cells to get rid of waste. Scientists are confident there's a rocky seafloor at the bottom of Europa’s ocean.

Hydrothermal activity could possibly supply chemical nutrients that could support living organisms.

The best evidence that there's an ocean at Europa was gathered by NASA's Galileo spacecraft, which orbited Jupiter from 1995 to 2003. While Europa has no magnetic field of its own, when the Galileo spacecraft made 12 close flybys of Europa, its magnetometer detected a magnetic field within Europa as Jupiter's powerful magnetic field swept past the moon. Scientists think the most likely cause of this magnetic signature is a global ocean of salty water.

Europa's bright, icy surface is unlike anything seen on Earth. It’s the smoothest body in the solar system, with few towering mountains or deep basins. Ridges and grooves crisscross the surface, breaking up the landscape. Many of these features coincide with long, curving streaks that are dark and reddish in color – some stretching across the surface in great arcs over 600 miles (1,000 kilometers) long. Elsewhere, domes, pits, and jumbles of icy blocks hint that warm ice may be rising from deep below.

Along with water, life as we know it also needs certain chemical elements – the building blocks of life – including carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus, and sulfur. These elements are common in the universe and make up 98% of living matter on Earth by combining to form organic molecules essential to life.

Scientists think these elements were likely incorporated into Europa as the moon formed. Later, asteroids and comets collided with the moon and may have left more organic materials.

The third ingredient for life is energy. All lifeforms need energy to survive. On Earth, most of that energy comes from the Sun. For example, plants grow and thrive through photosynthesis, a process that converts sunlight into energy. The energy is transferred to humans, animals, and other organisms when the plants are eaten.

But the type of life that might inhabit Europa likely would be powered purely by chemical reactions instead of by photosynthesis, because any life at Europa would exist beneath the ice, where there is no sunlight.

Europa's surface is blasted by radiation from Jupiter. That's a bad thing for life on the surface – it couldn't survive. But the radiation may create fuel for life in an ocean below the surface.

The radiation splits apart water molecules (H2O, made of oxygen and hydrogen) in Europa's extremely tenuous atmosphere. The hydrogen floats away and much of the oxygen stays behind and may bind to other elements. Oxygen is a very reactive element, which means it could potentially be used in chemical reactions that release energy. If the oxygen somehow makes its way to the ocean, it could react with other chemicals to possibly provide chemical energy for microbial life.

Originally published on https://europa.nasa.gov

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, October 9th, 2024)

"WHAT IS 'NEGATIVE TIME'??"

#astronomy #outer space #alternate universe #astrophysics #universe #spacecraft #white universe #space #parallel universe #astrophotography #jupiter moon #europa

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dragonsaltartales · 3 months ago

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I thought I would make a list of possible things to donate to NC and TN if you’d rather donate goods instead of funds.

I would like to note that most stores lost power and a LOT of goods are either sold out or were destroyed for obvious reasons. It’s a disaster in the stores, and my area wasn’t hit as hard as others. Most people don’t have the means to get to a store or, even if they could, the store will likely be out of what they need. Goods are being air dropped and distributed within these places. (This is not to say that financial donations are not needed. BOTH are necessary.)

Here’s a list of needed donations;

Dry, shelf stable, ready to eat foods (crackers, bread, jams, fruits, vegetables, snack foods; anything will be helpful) Canned goods are a maybe. Pull tab is best as a lot of people don’t have manual can openers or know how to use one.

Water. Bottled water. Jugs. Anything. Water is absolutely VITAL right now as we have a shortage of clean water and plenty of broken water lines

Power banks, while they might not be able to charge them at home, many community places such as churches are offering for people to charge their devices. This can help keep them in touch with help and loved ones longer.

Children activities (coloring books and crayons/pencils, non electronic toys, etc) Many kids are left without their devices and need things to help them through these terrifying times.

Pet foods of any kind

Gasoline canisters; for those that have access to getting more gasoline and powering generators

Charcoal and matches; this can help with making sure people are able to cook and have a heat source

Toiletries; toilet paper, personal hygiene goods, wet wipes, pads and tampons

Clothing and towels (please keep in mind sizes in XL and higher. These sizes can be scarce even without disaster)

Flashlights and batteries

Newborn needs (formula, diapers, wipes, jarred baby foods)

List of NC donation places

List of TN donation places

Please share around to help reach as much as possible. Thank you 🙏

Feel free to add to this post. The more information and donations lists available, the better.

#nc #tn #north carolina #tennessee #hurricane #hurricane helene #helene #aid #hurricane relief #nc floods #tn floods #disaster relief #donations

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trender-official · 1 month ago

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Whiskey Burns My Throat | Chapter One

Sevika x Doctor!Reader | 4.4k words

Cowritten with my friend Migi

Sevika is tired of Silcos shit. Why was she wasting her time watching over this stupid doctor? And why is she so hot?

Or, slow burn lesbian romance with our beloved Sevika.

Reader is almost an oc but she has no appearance or name lol

Sometimes, Sevika hated her job. For the most part, she either didn’t mind it, or even outright liked it. Being the right hand woman of Zaun’s widely accepted leader had its perks. The pay, for one, was great. She had slowly gotten used to not having to scavenge and scrap on the streets for any little thing she could get her hands on to sell. Now, she had a permanent residence paid off in full, and she hadn’t gone hungry in what felt like forever. She even had plenty of cogs to gamble away at Silco’s bar most nights. And the brothel, if she really needed to let off some steam.

She never could have imagined this for herself, not in a million years. And Silco, he had a real shot at this, a real shot at making something of this shit ridden city. That was all she really cared about. It was why she left Vander all those years ago, after he’d refused to take a stand against those fascist Pilties. She was still bitter about that.

An added bonus was scaring the topsiders. A smirk formed on her face as she thought about it. It was funny, being able to send them running with their tail tucked between their shitty little legs, quivering with genuine fear. Not just of her, but of what Silco would do to them if he found out they fucked with her. So she was on a power kick, sue her.

But this… She didn’t like this.

She stood outside a tent, looking scary enough- which wasn’t hard by any means- to keep anyone who would start shit away, having a keen eye for those people, unfortunately. But she also kept an eye out for clients, people suffering from shimmer. Shimmer was the drug that Silco started distributing after becoming the unofficial-official leader of Zaun.

When injected, shimmer gives you a rush. A rush of power, and enhanced abilities, as well as that feel good high you’d get from other substances. But… with every high comes a cost. It’s highly addictive of course, and has dangerous side effects, like the creation of deteriorating spores that eat away at your limbs in random spots.

Inside the very tent, was a stupid fucking Plitie prick. A stupid Piltie prick who Silco was making her protect. A stupid Piltie prick who was a doctor, treating the symptoms of shimmer and pollution that racked the citizens of Zaun, keeping them healthy enough to bring in profit- but sick enough to keep coming back. Unknowingly by anyone but herself, for the most part, and Silco made sure of that. It was a cruel joke, honestly. A smart, but dangerously cruel one. She would never admit this, but part of her felt bad for the Piltie. She had no idea she was participating in the repeated cycle of addiction and corruption.

A shuffle came from inside, the tent sliding open. A nother patient slinked out, his legs shaking like he was about to collapse at any second. But his face, that was the real kicker. It was a pale gray in color, sores and bumps growing along the side of it, red and irritated from the cleaning it just got. The doctor followed right after, with her hand helping him along cautiously. “Please, follow my directions. Keep the wounds clean and covered, and try to mix up where you inject it, otherwise it’ll just keep corroding the one spot” she said, her voice sounding almost robotic, mainly because she had said that to every other patient that came in with the same issues.

“I’ll try… Thank you, Ma’am.” The person said with a hesitant smile, voice careful and withdrawn. Most people didn’t say anything, just leaving as fast as they could. Or they’d bite out hurtful and spiteful words, despite the doctors efforts of healing them. They don’t wan’t to believe she was real, that she was fully committed to leaving her Piltover life behind for this shithole. Sevika didn’t. She had to be lying… spying, or something, gaining all the information she can to turn in to the topsiders and ruin everything that they’ve worked so fucking hard for. And silco was just letting it happen!

Her voice snapped Sevika out of her thoughts, the permanent scowl on her face deepening. “Of course. Just be safe. As safe as you can be.” The doctor said, sending him off with a wave and a small bag of things to help for the week. A care package, if you will, equipped with a small pale of water, 2 pieces of bread, and some new socks to keep warm.

The doctor looked up at Sevika and smiled. She didn’t smile back. She looked dejected and disappointed, she wanted Sevika to like her. She wanted most people to like her. It made her feel like she was doing a good job, and fueled her to do even better.

She called the next patient up, her voice a little less confident than usual. She took another glance at Sevika as she turned to walk back in the tent, after allowing the patient in. Sevika rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, continuing to glare at the most suspicious-looking person sitting in the alley nearby. She was already tired of this girl, and they’d only been working together a few days.

This was the last patient of the day, as the sun was starting to go down and the more violent citizens would be coming out now. After the last patient came out of the tent, the doctor nodded to Sevika, letting her know it was good to start dismissing everyone.

“Alright! Time to get going.” Sevika said, raising her arms. “Let’s go! Get!” She said to the few who dared to stay and try to fight it. They didn’t stay much longer.

The doctor leaned against one of the poles, the one Sevika had been leaning against, watching her as she shooed away the crowd. She smiled, though this time not as big. Sevika turned back to her, her scowl not faltering. “Wanna drink?” She asked, holding the tent flap open.

Sevika sighed. She knew she couldn’t leave until she got home. So she didn’t have much of a choice. Sevika had to lean down to enter the tent and stay hunched while inside to fit. She shuffled her way over to the small couch poised in front of a coffee table and a rolling chair. Sevika laid an arm across the top of the couch, spreading her legs.

The doctor pulled out a bottle of whiskey, one too expensive to be found down here, but not expensive enough to be considered good by Piltover standards. “I heard you liked this.” The doctor’s eyes glanced down over Sevika’s body nervously. She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling suddenly more out of place than ever.

“You asked Silco about me?” Her eyebrow raised, “Only other person who can get it here is Silco.” She said, not reaching for the glass. The doctor licked her lips nervously.

“Well…yes. Consider it a gift. I don’t really like the stuff.” She said, handing the entire bottle over to her.

“You bought whiskey you don’t like?” Her voice was flat, void of teasing, of lightheartedness. “What, just to impress me?” Sevika said with a laugh of disbelief and slight secondhand embarrassment.

The doctor turned red and stuttered. “I-I don’t know- I just thought of you when I saw it. Is it so bad to get a gift for a new co-worker?” She felt scrutinized when Sevika turned her eyes back to her, and she was right to.

Sevika scanned her up and down. She frowned. The doctor suddenly felt insecure under her gaze. “I’m not going to like you. You can stop trying to make me.” She moved and crossed her arms, her muscles slightly bulging around her shirt. The doctor swallowed.

“I… I don’t think that’s true. If you got to know me-“ She said, sitting forward in her chair.

“Oh shut up. I already know how you're gonna be. All you Pilties are the same.” Sevika glared at her, making the doctor shrink back into her chair. “You’re all arrogant assholes who think we need you. We don’t. Any of our doctors could do the same thing as you.” She stood up and looked down over her. “I don’t know why Silco wants you here. But don’t think because I’m doing this I trust you. I’m doing this for him. Not you.”

Sevika turned and walked outside, to which the doctor sighed heavily. Her face was red and hot with embarrassment. She looked down at the glass, contemplating. Normally she wouldn’t. She wasn’t a fan of not being in control.

Quickly, she snatched it up and took a fat sip. It burned her throat, feeling foreign on her tongue, but the taste reminded her of how Sevika made her feel.

Outside, Sevika stood over the flap to the tent, casting a shadow inside. She squinted at the sound of racing feet stamping down the alley. She saw the shadow of a person carrying someone before she saw them. “Help! Fuck- Fuck, we need help!” A man shouted as he rounded the corner. Sevika pushed herself straight.

“What’s wrong?” She shouted to them.

“I- I don't know- I found him in a pool of vomit- Please, I know there’s a doctor here, you have to help.” He said as he fell to the ground from the weight of the person on his thin, unmuscled arms.

Sevika ran over and scooped the man up, inspecting the wound, a hole in the middle of his thigh, aligned with purple veins and disgusting bubbles filled with bodily fluid. Shimmer. Of course. She turned to the tent and brought the man over, shoving her way through with her shoulder.

The doctor looked up, alarm on her face. She heard the yelling, but couldn’t understand what they were saying. She had stayed inside in worry of a fight. “What?” She said as Sevika moved the man to be held over her shoulder and swept everything off the coffee table.

“He’s overdosing. You need to be quick.” Sevika said, laying him down as quickly as she could while still being gentle. She stood back, breathing surprisingly slowly, she seemed calm. It didn’t surprise Sevika herself, but the doctor was impressed. She really shouldn’t be surprised Sevika knows how to handle herself in stressful situations. You don’t get where she is not being able to.

“Do you know what on?” The doctor said, not having the chance to see the wound yet, snapping on gloves as quickly as she possibly could.

“No. Probably shimmer…” Sevika stood back, giving her room to work. She hated seeing this, knowing she helped it happen.

“Okay…” she sounded defeated, tired, “get me the Naloxone and a scalpel… please.” She said, having to remind herself not to bark orders out. Before coming down here- before uprooting her entire life, she had assistants and staff; people hired to help her without question or need for respect, as bad as that sounds. She pointed to the place she kept them, on the other side of the tent where there was a small box filled with all the supplies she could carry.

Sevika obeyed, not interested in protecting her dignity over someone’s life. The doctor began to wipe at the tumors growing on his thigh, deemed to be the injection site. The smell was awful… The wounds weren’t bleeding- not actively, there were signs of past bleeding, dried blood, and scabs topping every growth. They weren’t like shimmer growths, they were almost straight black. It was like his body was growing them just for them to rot. The doctor quickly administered the Naloxone, which evened out his breathing somewhat.

She took a deep breath, as well as she could with the thick smell of decay in the air, readied the scalpel. As soon as she cut into the pustule, it exploded, luckily missing her face, but it coated her hand and the table. Her eyes widened, as the smell assaulted her nose and mouth. She coughed, backing away. She knew this smell. She knew what this was.

“Fucking- Shit!” She yelled. “Back up! Get back!” She yelled at Sevika. She rushed to wipe her hands off on a cloth nearby. Just exposure to this could have negative effects on the human body. “It’s fake shimmer! Don’t touch it!”

“What? What does that mean?” Sevika asked, her instincts pushed her to pull the doctor away from the body, but she stopped herself. She seemed genuinely scared- Sevika thought it might be better to listen to her here.

“It means it’s toxic! We need to get him out of here!” She said, ripping off the ruined gloves and retrieving two pairs of new ones. “Come on- You need to help me.”

“Help you what?!”

“Get him out of here!”

“What? No! You need to help him!” Sevika said, grabbing her arm. “He’s your patient. You’re a doctor! This is your job!” She leaned over a little to tower over her, trying to scare her into listening.

“We can’t help him now! That stuff- You can’t bring someone back after they’re too far gone.” She tried to pull her arm away, only making Sevika rip her closer. Her chest pressed up to Sevika’s rib. Sevika’s breasts were almost in her face. She tried her best to not look, but couldn’t help to spare a few glances.

“That can’t be true. You have to do something.” Sevika growled.

“Anything I can do will just make him suffer longer! Is that really worth it?” She yelled back, pushing up. “I’ve done this before, the only thing treatment guarantees is more pain!”

Sevika glared silently and released her arm. Her face tightened once more before she turned away and stalked outside. The man who carried him in looked at her with a scared face. He clearly heard all of that. She looked down and sighed, closing her eyes. She wasn’t one to offer comfort to others.

Back inside the tent, the doctor was rushing to get the new gloves on. She searched her supplies and luckily found a vial of morphine. She bit her lip to hold back tears. It’s been awhile since she’d handled this kind of stress. She pushed herself up and slowly walked over to the patient. She’d give all that was left in the bottle, just enough to cause an overdose. He’d fall asleep, never to wake up again. She took a glove off.

Solemnly, she injected the dose, holding his hand as she did it, letting him feel her skin. She knew he likely wasn’t here already, but he was alive enough to feel pain. No one deserved to go out like this.

After… It happened, she came out, having taken off the button up that had the rot on it, now just in an undershirt. The man looked at her with wide eyes. She shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She had taken off the other glove already. She walked over to the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. He himself was not looking very good, tumors from shimmer beginning to appear on his arms and face. His breathing was weezy from the pollution. “You did your best. He was likely already too far gone by the time you found him.” The man shuddered. He didn’t cry. This was the undercity. No one here had their life guaranteed.

As the man left, both Sevika and the doctor went back into the tent. Sevika stared at the body as the doctor retrieved the whisky from earlier. “I’m gonna drink.” She said, an indirect invite to join.

“Give me a glass.”

She nodded and poured two glasses. She handed it to Sevika and she downed it in almost a minute. “What did you do to him?” She asked.

“I gave him morphine. Too much to survive. He wasn’t going to anyway.”

“You could’ve given him a chance.” Sevika frowned, still staring at the lifeless body.

“The only chance he would’ve had is if we stopped him from taking it in the first place.” She said quietly, walking back to the couch. She looked at the body, then back to Sevika. “I did what I could.”

“You- You fuckin’ killed him! You did what you could- Bullshit!” Sevika threw the glass, it shattered against the ground louder than expected.

The doctor jumped, looking like a child watching her parents fighting. “He was going to die anyway! Much more painfully!” She said, standing up.

“You act like I haven’t seen this kind of thing before-“ The doctor defended herself, her cheeks growing warm. She hated conflict, especially the kind that involved being alone with a large woman in a tent that was secluded. Not that she was worried Sevika would do anything. Silco needed her, or at least that’s what he made it seem like…

“But I have.” she finished off, her voice raw and full of heavy emotions. “There’s been nights you weren’t here, where I stayed up for hours monitoring and watching, holding people's hands while they suffered a pain I caused them.. you don’t get to come in here and poke fingers at me when I’m the one who has to end their lives!”

By the end she was panting, her once neatly tied back hair now framed her face from all the excitement. Her eyes were ablaze with anger, grief, and something else that she couldn’t quite place herself.

Sweat dripped from her forehead in little droplets that beaded onto her chest, now more exposed from having to dispose of the contaminated shirt from before. The soft glow of the lanterns lighting up the tent illuminated her face, highlighting the curl of her lips that were currently in a snarl, and the thicker furrowed brows that were slowly returning to their normal resting position as she calmed down.

“You fucking…” Sevika trailed off, her tongue running over her teeth. Her eyes trailed down her body, lavishing over her without care. If she weren’t royally pissed off right now, she may have found her hot. Sevika frowned and glared at her. “Fine. Too fucking late now.” She came closer, observing the body. “How do we dispose of it- of him.” She knew she was too used to people simply being ‘its’.

The doctor shifted on her feet, just now starting to feel the dull ache settle in from being on them all day. She knew exactly how she disposed of them, she’d been doing it for quite some time now. But… she didn’t want to say. It was, frankly, too embarrassing. Too vulnerable.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.” the doctor brought a hand up to her forehead, wiping the beads of sweat from it, cringing a little at the wetness. She stepped back, grabbing the bottle of the now half full whiskey and brought it to her lips, taking a good, 5 second chug. She resisted the urge to cringe at the unfamiliar taste, and the burning that took hostage of her throat. Wiping her lips after, and ignoring the salty taste of her own skin, she placed the bottle back down, steadying herself on her desk.

“That’s enough for you, little girl.” Sevika said with a smirk that said ‘I’m better than you.’ Her attitude switched too quickly to be anything but forced. She had to be fine with death. There was nothing for her but. “Give it here.” She said as she yanked the bottle from her hands with her metal arm, Sevika’s unnatural strength too much to fight. Her arm rotated in strange ways to lift the bottle to her mouth, lips sealing around it as she chugged the rest of it. It took nearly ten seconds to finish. She smiled patronizingly and threw the bottle down next to the broken cup.

The doctor felt her eye twitch, a low growl bubbling from the back of her throat. “I have enough shit to deal with here, I don’t need to add ‘cleaning up temper tantrums’ or pissing contests to my agenda” The alcohol was already starting to take effect, her head growing heavy with a buzz that left her feeling fearless, and unaware of the consequences she might have to face come morning time.

Sevika snickered. “Yeah? Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t.” She smiled, but it wasn’t one that made the doctor feel any better. It was almost sickening. She looked ravenous. She looked like she need to either fuck or fight someone. “But remember, I only take your orders because Silco says I should.” She said, her smile slipping. She turned and started to walk away before turning back. “And watch your mouth. You don’t wanna fuck with me.” She flashed a smirk then left the tent, leaving the mess behind her. Though, she didn’t leave, not fully, she stayed in the area. She wanted to see what she would do with the body, her curiosity too strong to fight. Today, anyway.

The doctor ran a hand through her hair, her other stabilizing herself on the table. A shaky sigh left her lips. Her thoughts were filled with confliction. Anger, frustration, and… attraction. It pissed her off.

With a huff, she turned and grabbed the items she would need to properly… dispose of the body laying next to her. Gloves, a shovel, a wheelbarrow, gasoline, and a match.

She covered herself with a spare coat she had, putting on her goggles, gloves, and a gas mask before she used the shovel to lift his body into the wheelbarrow, holding onto the handles for support after with a pant. Bodies were heavy, and she wasn’t necessarily in the best shape, not like Sevika.

She made her way to the spot she always used, a secluded area at the end of Zaun’s fissure, Sevika in tow, though not to her knowledge.

The doctor tried to be gentle as she dumped the body from the hopper, wincing at the harsh sound his body made as he rolled from it, his limbs limply following in pursuit. She sighed, rubbing her damp forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. She hated this part.

She didn’t have the time to bury him, nor the stamina to dig the hole, so she relied on burning. She sat him up against the giant rock wall, positioning his body as someone taking a peaceful nap, closing his eyes with gentle fingers.

“I’m sorry.” She croaked, shoulders slumped, and tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t cry normally, not anymore anyway, but tonight, with the mix of emotions and alcohol, she wasn’t in control of her tear ducts.

Sevika would’ve made a noise of disbelief, if it wouldn’t have gotten her spotted. She almost respected the efficiency she moved with, as if she had an ounce of control over herself. Even while drunk or high out of their mind, Zaunites always had to have control, at least over their tears and fear.

Although, there was something almost attractive about seeing a Piltie doing this kind of stuff. Something degenerate and sick, something that came from craving others to go through the pain she did. Or maybe, seeing something once so innocent be corrupted.

The doctor moved back, reaching for the bottle of gasoline, pouring it gently through his hair, watching as it dripped down his cheeks and jaw, and finally down to soak his clothing. Guilt bit at her, even though she knew there was nothing she could do. But surely, there had to be a way, somehow, to save people like him. She just hadn’t found it yet. And that was the worst part of it.

Taking a deep breath, she lit the match using her boot, setting the collar of his shirt ablaze, before putting it out on the ground and stepping back. She couldn’t watch him burn, that would simply be too much, in a way. She turned, shoulders still hunched in a sort of… defeat and shame. Shame that she couldn’t save him, or any of the other bodies she had done the same routine with. And defeat, that she didn’t even know where to start in being able to save those lost people, or any for that matter.

She didn’t think of herself as a healer, as a savior. No, that was bullshit. She knew she was just keeping these people alive until their shimmer addictions inevitably killed them. But what else was she supposed to do? Refuse them? It was all out of her hands now. She just had to trust that Silco was the man he said he was, and got the people of Zaun out of the mess that it was.

With a final sigh as her goodbye, she walked back to her tent, taking off everything she was wearing and throwing it to the ground to sanitize it later. For now, all she wanted to do was sleep. So sleep she did, curled up on one of the cots, wallowing with the scratchy blanket that was left there by one of her past patients. Sleep took her dreamlessly, for once in her life, the alcohol helped with that.

Sevika watched the doctor walk away and finally reach a point where she couldn't see her. She felt herself relax, though not much. She left her hiding space, an overhang area she’d silently climbed up onto, lurching off of the platform and trudging over to the burning body. For a moment, she just stared, her face in a tight scowl.

The fumes burned her throat, but it took her a moment to even notice, waiting until she physically couldn’t take a breath. She put on the mask she carried with her, a cheap one that could fold small enough to hide. The air of the fissures itself usually wouldn't bother her, but she carried one just in case.

She felt her eyes burn with unshed tears of many years yearning to escape, the day- no, the months of grief and anger catching up on her. But she wouldn’t let them fall. Tears were a sign of weakness, and she wasn’t weak.

Slowly, she reached for a compartment in her arm, where she held extra shimmer vials. She opened it, taking one and throwing it into the fire, as some sort of… offering. For forgiveness. She peeled off a piece of dead skin on her lip, savoring the pain and blood, before walking away, already missing the heat of the flames kissing her skin. Maybe she’d replace it with the heat of one of the brothel girls… She needed it.

#arcane sevika #sevika #arcane #no arcane spoilers #sevika x reader #cowritten with migi #chapter fic #slow burn #lesbians #sevika x you #arcane fic #arcane x reader #aarons-fics

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