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cruisie · 7 months ago

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I'VE FINALLY DONE IT.

I MADE A FIC BASED OFF THE GATOR BOYS WINTER HEADCANONS LAST CHRISTMAS.

I pulled an all nighter for this because I got a boatload of inspiration and pushed through outta spite. It's damn near summer butttt I don't really care.

Characters belong to Obsidian lantern, Capital M audios, and Daysprite.

I hope y'all enjoy :>

Cold blooded.

Winter had come down hard on the swamps' denizens that year.

Snow coated the now frozen mud ground in layers and water froze into ice sheets preventing easy travel between homes were only a few of its hardships.

But with the frustration and annoyance that comes with the cold, it is accompanied by its not-so-small joys that make the season one hell of a time.

It wasn't unusual to find the three close friends ducking and diving behind makeshift forts and shields during this time of year, covered head to claw in thick fabric and snow clinging to the old material. Laughter erupts from smiling faces as another snowball whizzes past them. Those smiles turn into a calculated grin as they turn to huck a ball of their own.

But of course, another con about winter was its shortened days, cutting the amount of time the four had to goof around and be active.

The human took notice of something else. The dark falling over the cabin in that short amount of time, paired with the cold (and overexertion on Timmy's part), had the reptiles in a state of perpetual tiredness.

The results being three easily exhausted lizardfolk.

It was almost amusing actually.

When the four companions had entered the house that day after having spent a good amount of time battling one another in the small heaps of snow, Bug observed the half-bloods slowly but surely losing energy moving about the house.

Bodie turned on the stove and lit the fireplace to help warm the rest of the chilled house. It only seemed to speed up the process as each person took residence nearby.

The wind blew from outside the cabin as they settled into their desired spots. Bodie had started on dinner, not wishing to part from the warmth of the stove, Marco standing close to share in its heat too. The older men stood side by side, reminiscing about the day's events with amusement evident in the tone of the conversation as they prepared the food. Dinner would be finished sooner rather than later.

Unfortunately, the joint effort that had been formed in the kitchen had left not enough room for all of them to crowd around the stove.

Shaking off what melted snow he could, Timothy shuddered as he approached the fireplace. Behind him, an equally fridged human trailed, removing the patched sweater lent to them by the large gator to hang off a chair nearby to dry.

They shivered as they scanned the room, looking for the blessing that was a warm blanket, noting the boy hovering over the fire, rubbing his hands furiously together to generate as much heat as he could.

‘He’s gonna get himself sick…’

Bug mused to themself as they turned about the room. With the image of the cold lizard fresh in their mind, the human resumes their way further into the cabin.

‘Blankets…Blankets…Didn't Bodie say they were in the cupboard…’

A chattering sigh escapes their lips as they briskly pad down the short hallway, eyes shooting towards their goal. A somewhat worn-looking drawer with a small door on the bottom stands at the end. An excited noise exits the former hunter, happily throwing open the door, stopping short when they take another look at its contents, their previously growing smile falling into a mix of hesitation and disappointment.

Neatly folded on the inner shelf of the cupboard, was a single grayish green blanket.

They blinked once. Then twice.

Pulling the fabric from its home They inspected it. Feeling it's slightly rougher than normal texture and mentally sighing. The human stood up shaking their head as they held the item to their chest.

‘Looks like I gotta deal.’

Laughter from the older men in the kitchen sounded into the living area as Bug strode back into the room. A tired smile fell on their lips hearing the sound. Their eyes looked forward to see Timmy, still crouched and shivering in front of the open fireplace. To say he looked a bit rough was an understatement as he shook in an almost violent manner.

Their hand flew to their mouth, doing a poor job at hiding a chuckle as they tried to silently sneak behind the gator, the urge to surprise the boy winning.

The closer they got, the wider their smile grew as they thought of what to do, inching their way forward. Closer and closer they got, raising the blanket in hand, an idea blooming. Unfortunately, a creak of the floorboard and a quiet snicker was their undoing. The scaled boy whirled around with a large cheeky grin, arms up and ready.

“Ha!!! I knew you were tryna’ pull somethin’ you little-”

The triumphant tone was silenced as a muffled ‘oomf’ was heard throughout the cabin, the boy barely catching the covering now against his face.

“Still got you Tim-Tim.”

Bug spoke in a teasing manner as they held a cheeky grin on their lips.

Timmy huffed, begrudgingly moving to the side as the human crouched to sit next to him.

“Not you too…”

He mumbled, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted as he moved to settle onto the floor.

Bug stifles a snicker when they look at him again.

The two sat in front of that fireplace in silence for a second. The only noises are grunts and hisses from Timmy as he tries to pull the thrown item off his scales and Bugs attempts to keep from laughing.

When he finally manages to pull it off of his pointed scales, he moves to wrap it around his arms. He paused though, his attention caught by Bug.

“Wait, where's yours?”

He asked, confusion becoming evident when they replied.

“Oh, there was only one in the cabinet. I thought you might need it more.”

“And what do you mean by that, exactly?”

Timmy questioned back, raising an eyebrow as Bug made a wide gesture towards the boy.

He looks down, following their movements to see the still dripping water falling off his shirt.

“You may be faster than me, but Marco sure did a number on you.”

The gator let out a grumble, eyes shifting to glare at the teasing human as shuffled. He places the blanket off to his side. He stands up from his spot and treads off to the back of the cabin, mumbling quietly to himself, a trail of water droplets falling behind him.

The human let out a mischievous ‘hehe’ as Timmy disappeared. A moment later the abandoned blanket was wrapped tightly around their shoulders. They gripped the edge tighter, pressing closer to warm their hands and still-frozen face.

It hadn't taken long, the rising air soothing the chill that had held them quickly. They rested there for a moment, breathing in and exhaling gently as their eyes closed.

It felt so good to finally rest.

The day had started hectic. Timmy was the one that woke everyone up, surprisingly. He was adamant that they needed to look outside immediately, a grin stretched across his cheeks as they peered out the window to see the swamp coated in a decent amount of snow.

And it hadn't taken long after breakfast was eaten before they had taken to that snow.

At first, they were just mucking about. Trying to catch the few snowflakes that were still falling and building small snowmen, dubbed ‘snow gators’ by Bodie. Even Maria had claimed one of the small structures, having perched on top to observe the four beings as they meddled about.

They couldn't remember who threw that first snowball. All they knew was that it was a battle zone with Marco and Timmy zipping about and Bodie and Bug nestled behind a makeshift shield of snow.

It took the near decapitation of their snowmen to finally settle down, realizing that they had been messing around almost all day.

It had gotten quite a bit dim outside when they went back in. Now having settled, Bugs' eyes opened to look out the window. It was near dark now.

‘Damn winter days. Too short…’

A clawed hand cuts the thought short as it comes to rest against the crown of the human's head.

“Well, aren't you nice and comfortable?"

The voice is close. Startled, they turned to be met face to scaled face with Timmy, a cheeky sharp toothed grin growing when they jumped.

“I…uh…I was…”

The gator boy let out a single cackle as they stumbled for words to explain themselves.

“Ah, don't worry ‘bout it, Bug, I don't blame ya.”

Bug watched him as he moved downward, crossing his legs to sit next to them whilst grinning wide, nudging them slightly as he moved. They smiled sheepishly as he continued.

“Besides, you’re lookin’ all snug as a Bug so I wouldn't wanna mess with ya too much.”

The warm-blooded being rolled their eyes as they did a small jump sideways to make room for the smug looking boy.

Bug lets out a quiet humph, shuffling in place and looking over at the half-blood, staring for a moment. He had begun to move his hands together furiously once more, pausing every so often to blow warm air against them.

A pang of guilt hit them as they continued to look. He had an almost unnoticeable shake to him. His jaw was closed tight and his torso was practically over the fire when he spoke again, giving a half-hearted glance over his shoulder.

“Did Bodie say anything about dinner yet? I'm starvin’.”

“No, not yet. Sure smells good though.”

Bug said, head turning to look over at the open kitchen.

“Can you believe we skipped lunch?”

“Psh, no. Feels like the day went by too dang fast.”

A soft hum of agreement was made in response by the human, Bugs' eyes drifting to Timmy's still quaking form. They stop their reply, pondering their next action carefully.

It was a comfortable silence for a short time. The fire cracking every so often, Bodies and Marcos conversation muffled from the other room.

“Hey, Tim? If you want, you can have the blanket now. I think I've warmed up enough to share.”

Timmy leans back haphazardly, head rolling backward and arms holding his torso up to regard his companion with a shake of his head and a chuckle.

“Nah, I'm fine, Bug. See? I don't get cold that easily.”

He answers, waving his hand as if that would convince them he wasn't holding back his shivers. The bed bug silently raised a brow at the half-lizard.

His jaw was still clenched.

‘I bet everything he's trying to stop from chattering too.’

“Really? Cause you look like you're about to start shaking like a leaf.”

“I mean, yeah. Maybe you're right, but then you'd get just as cold and I…WE don't you gettin’ sick…again. Especially during this time of year, ya know?”

The half-blood continued his excuse, rapidly correcting his words before ending with a nervous laugh and a half smile.

Bug looked over the halfie, studying his words and actions, noiselessly observing him with narrowed eyes.

Timmy could see it clearly as their face changed from an almost intimidating stare to a soft smiling reaction.

They had an idea.

“Aw. Thanks, Tim. But I don't want you to get sick either.”

The half-reptile looked forward as Bug replied tentatively, turning his head somewhat to the side to hide a small smile, looking at the wooden ceiling, searching for nothing in particular.

“Heh, thanks, sugar bug. That's uhh…sweet of ya’. But I promise, I'll be perfectly fine-”

The words were cut short before he could finish, a warmth suddenly being wrapped around his arms. Specifically, his left side was being engulfed in a welcoming heat.

Before he realized it, Timmy was leaning closer. He jerked his head quietly, shock flooding his face when he saw the human directly next to him, blanket still around their shoulder as they looked at him, with a playful expression, not to close just yet.

“Now neither of us will get sick! If you don't…mind sharing?”

The brackish blood felt as if he was about to catch fire with how hot his face flushed, the feeling of the cold air seemed to vanish as he nodded, trying his best to appear nonchalant as he spoke

“I guess this…uh…works. Um…H-Here lemme…just…”

Timmy shifts slowly, lifting his arm over the human head and resting it behind them, carefully planting his palm against the hardwood floor to brace himself.

“And there. Now, you can rest against me without getting stuck…by uh…my scales. They're…a bit pointy, ya know?”

“Thank you. Is this ok or…”

Bug asked in a hushed voice, holding a polite smile to the boy, shuffling closer. A fast nod and a ‘mhm’ was the response.

If they were being honest, they were afraid of speaking any louder than a whisper for fear that it would crack.

It was a bit tense at first. The two flustered beings adjust every so often to find a more comfortable spot. After a while of Bugs' head accidentally bumping Timmy's chin and a stray spikey scale jabbing into their side, the blanket heap soon started to laugh.

It was nearly uncontrollable the more they held in their laughter. Hands clasped over their mouths as the pair snickered, shy glances were shared between them that only fueled even more giggles from them both. It was just so amusing and unbelievable that they were this close. So close and yet it felt…nice.

After what felt like ages, silence finally reigned in the house. Save for the occasional clank of pots in the kitchen, the billowing wind that whistled across the window sill every so often and the low roar of the fireplace that soothed the duo from their incessant laughter.

__________________________________

In the kitchen, the croc sat, flipping through the yellow parchment of his sketchbook, looking over his drawings and small doodles idly.

After reaching the end of the not-so-numerous pages of art, he lets out a deep sigh. He tiredly leaned his head to the side, spying on the older man as he continuously stirred the simmering pot.

He sniffs.

“Ay Bo, How much time we got left on the gumbo?”

Bodie sets down the wooden ladle, shutting the pot and grabs a rag, wiping his hands and throwing a bright smile towards the crocodilian.

“It's just ‘bout done now. You think you can grab Tim-Tim and the water bug while I plate ‘dis?”

Marco nodded, a small ‘yup’ being heard as he slowly raised his arms in the process, letting out a heavy yawn and smiled a lazy smile. Rising from his chair, he sets his sketch on the table and strides towards the living room, looking over his shoulder to look at Bodie, snickers heard in his voice.

“You think they're still awake? I wouldn't be surprised if they're out cold already.”

“Even still, they need to eat. I'm sure they'll come runnin’.”

By the time Bodie finished his reply, Marco had already reached the entrance to the living area, pausing for a moment at the lack of noise coming from the room.

His interest grew exponentially as he peered into the area, seeing an odd lump on the wooden floor, leaning against one of the nearby chairs and seemingly…snoring?

The curiosity that had grown soon turned into a cheeky grin as he got closer, finally discovering what exactly had happened.

Marco allowed a gentle chuckle out as Timmy moved, watching as the boy moved to press further into the warmer human, Bug reciprocating the action and exhaling gently.

“What y'all doin’ in here? Foods ready and it's gon’ start gettin' cold if y'all waste anymore ti-”

A quick hand slaps onto Bodie's mouth before he can finish the sentence, Marco crossed the room in the blink of an eye to do so, eyes widened and a smirk plastered on his face as he makes a motion with his head towards the sleeping floor pile.

Bodie doesn't stay puzzled for long, eyes following the younger man’s movement. The grin that breaks free from Marcos's grip is beaming as he looks at the pair. The skinny man lets out a gentle laugh at the expression on his friends face, holding back his first instinct to wake the spikey lizard by yanking the blanket off him.

“Now what, bog boss? Wanna wake em’ up?”

Bodie shook his head softly, still staring at the sleeping boy and his water bug, a small sense of pride exploding in his chest.

“Nah, give im’ a couple more minutes. They look all comfy and cozy, so we'll just…warm up their food later.”

The gator man turns back into the light of the kitchen, grabbing his bowl and starts in on his dinner, Marco following close behind as he lets himself take another look, trying to commit the scene to memory as he finds his sketch once more and jots down something in a hurry.

He couldn't wait until the two finally woke up as he happily ate his food, keeping an ear out for when they woke up and realized the position they were in.

Soooooo yeah what y'all think?

Wanna take a guess on who my favorite character is???

I had no idea on where to post this so I'm choosing my Tumblr until I get the gumption to share the doc.

#gator boys #audio roleplay #asmr #obsidian lantern #sirens son asmr #capitalmaudios #mage bunkshelf #daysprite #fanfic

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stuck-in-the-ghost-zone · 6 months ago

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@intertexts I AM going to take you up on this and it WILL be everyone else's problem . this is going to be so long and disjointed and stream of consciousness and not at all organized. my enrichment for work today

GOD where do i even fucking start. im literally thinking about him constantly dude. i hate it here. i love when a character is allowed to be a bad person and also still like. care. he cares so much. he cares so much it fucking HURTS but also he sucks !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and this is a good thing. i never want him to get better however i do want him to give his son a hug just once.

uhhhhhhhhhhh ok ok ok. lizard biology is a good place to start i love fucked up fantasy biology. keep in mind while i do like to talk about science and things i do also love to suspend my disbelief when it conveniences me. yes i know this would not work irl thats why i like it. anyway. hey why the fuck did they make him do that. i know overlords whole deal was fucking with dna but how insane is it that hes like. "oh you want to work for me? awesome. get experimented on idiot." awesome way to keep your employees from quitting: subject them to genetic torture. do you think he fought it. of course he fucking did hes mark winters he would not agree to that shit.

how disorienting do you think it was to wake up and suddenly have a whole extra sense. not just that but also a whole extra LIMB. what the fuck do you do. do u think it was sudden or gradual. i cant decide which is worse tbh. i guess this is a good excuse to talk about what exactly i think his lizard mutations look like.

he obviously has the scales. theyre on mostly the left half of his body, i think his right side is generally pretty untouched by any sort of mutation. the ones on his face are pretty much localized around his eye, (which i think looks like a tokay gecko btw. theyre yellow and have cool shaped pupils) but probably also extend down his cheek and maybe even down onto his neck a little. i think theyre probably scattered on his back and chest, hes got a bunch of distinct big patches rather than like a smooth transition from skin to scales. i think his left hand is completely covered with scales and his nails are more like claws on that side. he probably files them down a little (or like. just scratches them on concrete and metal and shit until theyre filed down. not healthy behavior). i like to imagine he has a tail too but its kind of short and stubby and not very. useful for anything except fucking up his balance and being generally Uncomfortable. OH also once every couple months the scales get SUPER uncomfortable and itchy and they shed. also when this happens he goes blind in the lizard eye and the first time that happened i think he was scared as FUCK that it was gonna be permanent

NOW IM GONNA START TALKING ABOUT. PIT ORGANS AND THIS MIGHT GET LONG AND TECHNICAL SO ILL TRY TO KEEP IT. SOMEWHAT SHORT. so. he can see william when hes invisible. and that has been CONFIRMED a lizard mutation thing and not just a result of one of his powers (which is still insane to me). and the ONLY WAY i can think of justifying that is by thermoreception or. heat sense. like infrared sensing. which is a thing that certain species of snakes can do!! specifically boas and vipers have these things called pit organs which are little holes usually around their nose with a membrane that is extremely sensitive to temperature changes and allows them to basically see in infrared. its not exactly SEEING and more like sensing which i think in a human would be so EXTREMELY disorienting. i havent figured out what exactly that would look like from a mark first person pov but the way i vaguely imagine it is if you overlayed an infrared camera over a normal camera and turned the opacity down to like 30% (<< clear enough that he can still see normally but still bright enough to be WEIRD). i think hes got sorta like what pythons have where they have multiple smaller pits rather than a single large one like a viper, and theyre right underneath the lizard eye so that when he has that eye covered with bandages it sort of dulls down the thermoreception. UGH.

ok enough about lizard powers i want to put you in the winters family torment nexus. actually ill talk about his powers a little bit first. so i am a little unclear as to what his powers actually ARE mechanically but based on the vague descriptions of things he can do i think it has to do with manipulating electricity and other types of energy (hence. wavelength.) i dont think its solely based on LIGHT but rather on likeeee. energy. i dont actually know a whole lot about electricity i havent taken a physics class since high school. ANYWAY. i think he was born with them and naturally theyre sort of weak and he cant do much with them which is why he uses the suits. (inserting my vague bit of worm knowledge i would put him under the Tinker class bc he makes a lot of his own tech hehe). his powers naturally without the suits manifest as like. a constant low buzzing in the background kind of like if youve ever. touched a crt monitor. sort of fuzzy and staticky. and maybe he can use them to like. run extra power through a wire or make a lightbulb glow a little brighter or power a battery. nothing really major useful for fighting but could be used in everyday activities! bizly mentioned once that he powers his suits like a battery and they amplify his powers and i have not let go of that ever since. do u ever think about how he has . holes in his back that his suits stab into. i think about that a lot. do you think he did that to himself. anyway.

NOW its winters family torment nexus time. before ashe's mom died. i think they were happy :( i dont think mark was always as shitty as he is now. i think he used to be just like. a normal dad. a little gruff and emotionally repressed because thats just. who he is. but very obviously loved his family and. idk. would take ashe fishing when he was little or something. weekend trip to the lake. he has a fucking cabin in the woods dude! i like to think heeee had a job as an electrician because it made his powers really convenient. (side note here i just really really like the worldbuilding of people casually having powers and using them to make their lives easier. i just really like that a lot and have a lot of thoughts about it.) I thiiiiiink ashe's mom worked in a library or a museum or something. something with a lot of books. maybe a museum. i think mark would take ashe with him in the mornings and drop him off at school before he went to work. i think ashe would put stickers on his dashboard when he got old enough to sit in the front seat (there are still. old faded stickers on the underside of his glove box and the old leftover residue of long term stickers dried out by the sun on the dash. the kind of shit that gets grey and kind of gross but is impossible to remove).

ashe's mom died when he was ... like 8 or 9. and i think for a really REALLY long time mark was just fucking terrified. i mean how the fuck do you recover from something like that. how do you look your kid in the eyes when you saw him do. that. i specifically wrote out part of this scene in my fic so at risk of sounding like a broken record i wont talk about it TOO much but. i think mark was at work when it happened. he got home from work and the house was way too quiet and then he found ashe still half-possessed in his room with a dead body. and his immediate first thought was that someone had broken in or something so his first instinct is to get ashe out of there but when he goes to pick him up from the floor he sees. trickster. or at least like. partial trickster. and he doesnt know what to do and theres that fucking book on the floor and his 8 yr old son is holding his mothers heart in his hands like its just a piece of meat and . whuh oh. hes just like. a regular guy. what the fuck is he supposed to do here! he considers just. running. leaving. getting back in his car and driving away and never coming back. and then he realizes thats fucking stupid and this is his child and he needs to do *something*

ashe is able to fight off full possession on his own (iiiiiii have a theory about ashes powers and what they are but i cant talk about that in detail until later) and i havent worked out the details of how i think the IMMEDIATE aftermath goes but. mark covers for him. gets rid of any sort of evidence that could POSSIBLY point to ashe being the one that killed her and sticks to the story that it was a freak villain attack instead. closed casket funeral. he tries to get rid of the book so many times and every time it reappears on ashe's bedside table the next morning. i think there was like. an IMMEDIATE rift between them. ashe is. old enough to understand what happened and since the possession was only partial i do think he remembers it. but hes not old enough to really understand why. why everything is so different now, how to process grief, why his dad is treating him so different now etc. probably goes. very nonverbal for a while. mark is a fucking wreck with grief and fear and anger and confusion and he stops going to work. they gave him a bit of a grace period due to the circumstances but eventually he got fired and couldnt get a new job and he thought about just taking ashe and moving out of that house out of that neighborhood maybe out of the city. but everything was too expensive and now he's got a 12 yr old who needs to eat and keeps growing out of his clothes and hasnt been to school in a year and a half and !!!!!!

so he starts. villain work. i dont think he really means to at first he might just. shut down a security camera here and there and make the lights flicker in a gas station and if there are a few extra snacks in his pockets whos to say. maybe he eventually tries to do hired gun work for some bigger villains and then moves to solo jobs and then gets picked up by overlord. (personally i think the overlord job was still somewhat new at the beginning of pd. maybe only like. a couple months to a year max)

ANYWAY he listens to vanessa carlton and thats just canon but i also think he likes shitty scifi movies and goes fishing for fun and finds being out in the woods relaxing (again. cabin) . and he does all the dad things in the car that we've talked about a bunch. and hes so so so paranoid and afraid all the time but he expresses that through anger but it comes from a place of love bc he loves ashe so much and doesnt want anything to hurt him ever and he just wants to keep him safe. head in hands. his methods are not good but also its all he knows how to do and i think he desperately just wants ashe to be happy and he wants to see him smile (even though it fucking hurts because he has his moms smile and her laugh and he looks so much like her when hes happy) and . take him on a weekend trip to the lake again. i think there was a moment halfway through season 1 where he saw how happy ashe was with pd and thought "maybe this is good maybe i can let him be a normal kid for a while" and then william dies and ashe gets shot and overlord has a hit on their heads and he doubles down because thats the kind of shit that happens if he lowers his guard for even a second!!!!!!!!!!! ughhhhhhhhh im insane.

um. also when he was just starting out villain work tide was still doing like active hero work and not a mentor yet and they were like rivals. smile. ("ive fought tide dozens of times and hes never spoken to me like that" << never going to forget this btw). i think tide was the one to tell him what happened at the end of season 1 . because. again. he was UNCONSCIOUS FOR THAT WHOLE THING. i think tide went to visit him in prison before he got depowered and told him everything.

#I KNOW IM FORGETTING. SOMETHING. AND IM GONNA BE SO MAD WHEN I REMEMBER IT LATER. BUT HOLYYYYYY SHTI every day i think about mark winters #the situation is fucking DIRE in here (my brain)#jrwi pd #aha. i think about him a regular amount #i need to lay down.#I REMEMBERD THE THING I FORGOT. ITS ABOUT HIS EYE. he can blink the lizard eye like normal bc he still has like. human shaped eyelids BUT #he also has a nictitating membrane on that side. which. is like the transparent second eyelid that a LOT of animals have. blinks sideways.#look them up theyre so cool #I ALSO FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT COLD BLOODED. FUCK #HES PARTIALLY COLD BLODDED. NOT FULLY. BUT HE HAS A HARD TIME REGULATING BODY TEMP ESP WHEN ITS COLD

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prof-ramses · 10 months ago

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Ramses Recommends : The monsters of Rodrigo Sousa's "Playground" trailer

This is gonna be the first of a new bred of post around here called Ramses Recommends, where I give a brief, spoiler free argument on why a piece of media deserves more attention before doing a deep dive into a particularly notable aspect of it for those who are cool with spoilers.

Our first subject is a proof of concept video on you tube titled "Playground I trailer", meant as a way for the short's France based creator to pitch the setting for a potential series or film and possibly a video game in the future, which, I'm happy to say, has worked.

Sousa's been contacted by a group willing to produce an animated.... something in the Playground world. The full project is still in early stages, but Rodrigo has confirmed he'll show more as soon as he can.

Spoiler-free Synopsis: We get several peeks into the struggle of kids in a monster filled ecosystem in a massive, liminal, jungle-gym like structure.

If what you've read so far peaks your interest, check the short here. And going further, the behind the scenes can be found here.

SPOLIER SEGMENT AHEAD

Now, for those who came back, or just decided to read on, let's get into the real meat and taters of this thing, the monsters populating this world.

I'll give my 2 cents on each design and give them a name, for convenience in discussion, if for nothing else.

Scuttleface

Off to a fairly typical start, two siblings (who we follow for most of the short) are hiding in a large dragon(?) statue and as one looks out the mouth/balcony, this critter comes by and open his main peepers.

Not much to say about this thing, among the more tame designs.

Stoplight Man

As the thumbnail, this guy is somewhat of the de facto mascot of Playground.

Stalking a tunnel maze, this ghoul spins his face in his skull to reveal a glowing grinning grimace. Any kid caught in the light best not move until the face spins again. Otherwise...

...Yeah

Blanket Eel

The kids hide under a "sea floor" of blankets while this blushing fish listlessly glides over them.

Nothing special, but I like it's little nose and scraggy hair, they add some character.

Pool Noodle

What else was I supposed to call this guy?

The same siblings who seemingly escaped the eel are now on a freaky duck floaty boat and starring down this lovely fellow.

Noodle doesn't actually move, but his intestine like namesakes slink through the waters of his tiled domain.

Also, his face vaguely looks like a dick tip and I can't tell if that's a "peeing in the pool" joke.

The Ballpit Babies

This sole shot is all we get of these eggs, but they're clustering together evokes a ballpit and reminds me of Muncher Marathon from DKCR, which is a good thing for any horror media.

Night Lights

The siblings get a moment's rest as they watch this precession of cutesy crittters.

My absolute favorite is the little shrink-wrapped lizard. Does it grow in water, I wonder?

Blanky Banshee

This madam wanders an extra decrepit party place. The glow in the dark stickers littering the place fitting her eye motif.

Weirdly, her abdomen seems to be made of exposed guts and her nose resembles the Blanket Eel. I can't help but ponder the possible connection.

And a brief moment of silence for the kid who shined a flashlight on this thing.

Big Bad Baby-Bat-Barfing Bug-Bat Beast

The least uncanny/liminal monster, not that that's much comfort.

The siblings barrel towards this thing in a fish shaped minecart, as the older kid bats bats out of the air with a mallet.

This particular domain seems to be the most foreign to the rest, meaning that I'm really excited to see more of it in the full Plaground.

Jim Jungle and his Shape Pals

This isn't actually how we meet Jim, but I love his spidery behavior matches his monkey bar abode.

When we see him chase the siblings, he unleashes the three shapes on his stomach as smaller arachnophobia generators to catch them.

I'd say he ties with Stoplight Man for iconographic value.

Cuddly

Still brandishing the mallet, the older sibling jumps off a trampoline towards this creepily baby like kraken.

And we get this:

RIP

The Monster Under The Bed

We don't see anymore of this little doofus than this shot, but it feels oddly... Friendly.

It doesn't feel righ to imagine this guy to be one of the boogimen here, despite his complexion.

And lastly,

Uncle Krampus

Even though his lore probably doesn't exist yet, I NEED IT!

Despite being dragged away by him, the younger sibling doesn't seem be wiling to put up much of a fight. Is he just a strict but still benevolent presence, one that keeps kids save here?

His fanny pack, bells and realistic, relatively unassuming pitchfork create the impression of a knowledgeable guide through this strange place.

Definitely the monster I want to see more of the most.

So there you have it, the first Ramses Recommends. I hope you loved it and loved it's subject, until next time, play safe ;)

#Ramses Recommends #indie animation #Rodrigo Sousa's Playground #Rodrigo Sousa #Playground

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llliiinnnaaa · 1 year ago

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Reprisal | Chapter Seven

coriolanus snow x gaul oc

Summary: Ten years after the Tenth Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow is under Dr. Volumnia Gaul’s wing as a Gamemaker alongside her niece. Unbeknownst to either of them, they’re both being prepared for a much greater task.

Warning: This story will contain explicit violence against adults and children alike (I mean, it’s Dr. Gaul AND Snow) as well as explicit language, and sexual situations.

***This fic is in no way, shape, or form, me endorsing or co-signing the horrific shit Snow does, nor am I trying to romanticize it. Also, apathy and will be the main driving force of any remnants of a relationship between my OC and Snow’s character. So if you’re interested in something very romantic and fluffy…it’s not gonna be this.

Thank you for reading, I hope you like it!

Dr. Gaul announces the case in question, along with the time of the start of its review, and its experimenter, adding, “This review will pertain to the evaluation and grading of the subject’s ability to camouflage successfully, reach an immersion speed of twenty miles per hour successfully, and reach a Terra Firma speed of twenty miles per hour successfully…let us begin.”

Coriolanus studies the landscape twenty feet below them, the large area outside the safety window of the viewing gallery is murky, deep water, with an artificial current, though that’s not what his eyes fall on.

No.

It’s yellow eyes, that become more apparent the longer he stares, that seem to be floating along the ground.

Camouflage, he thinks to himself, just as one of his peers announces, “Right there,” motioning in the general direction.

Some of them have to crane their necks to notice it.

“Shit,” he hears it whispered, taking in a breath as his tense muscles begin to relax.

All Minerva is doing is sitting still, instinctively adapting to the color palette of her surroundings.

Only it’s not just the color, it’s the entire pattern of the mimicked floor of the tropical forest that the arena for this year's Games in.

After a few moments, an assistant cautiously steps to the lizard, guiding her into the small river using a chunk of meat. She happily obliges, slow and lazy in her steps as the snack is kept above her head.

Once she hits the water and is rewarded, she propels herself with her spiked tail, disappearing under the water.

Snow frowns.

How is she going to demonstrate her speed in water?

Then, as if reading his mind, another assistant rolls in a cage into the large enclosure, the walls of it blacked out.

The room is growing impatient and curious.

Gasps and small chuckles of amusement sound out when the cage is opened and an Avox is thrown out.

Usually, Avoxes are somewhat sedated if they are to participate, it keeps them cloudy and less likely to fight back…

But this one is wide awake, alert, more than aware.

Snow leans forward on his seat, watching the tongueless man try to scream, trying to fight the assistants, but they both over power him, throwing him into the opposite end of the river, expertly placed least sixty feet down from where Minerva is dwelling, the spikes of her back still visible peeking through the soft roll of the current.

They step back from the water, the Avox flailing, bringing too much attention to himself.

Coriolanus finds himself jolting back slightly at the sight of those spikes disappearing under the water.

No one says a word, on the edge of their seats, anticipating Minerva’s strike while her victim wails, splashing and trying to get to the bank.

In the blink of an eye, he’s under water.

Blood dyes the bubbling liquid, turning and thrashing with struggle.

Until it stills and the Avox reappears in two halves, innards strung out of him, his legs and abdomen floating in two different directions.

“She didn’t even eat him. She did that for fun .” Someone remarks.

She got to him quick . No one denies that.

“Gem of Panem.” Is hissed out by one of the women a few rows back, every single Gamemaker nearly panting as another cage is rolled in.

The final test.

How fast she can run on land. How quickly she can catch a tribute that’s running from her.

The cage opens, again, sixty feet from where Minerva is waiting in the water, yellow eyes glistening as a mute woman fights just like her male counterpart had.

This time, the assistants scramble from the enclosure, shoving at the Avox to keep her away from the door.

It’s slammed, the woman beating against the door, her screams echoing so loudly that it’s heard crystal clear in the gallery.

The water shifts.

“I can’t watch, but I can’t look away.” Snow hears Philo mutter.

That’s the point , Coriolanus thinks.

If the Gamemakers feel this way, surely all of Panem will.

Water hits the bank, Minerva making her way to land to get a glance at her prey.

She and the Avox make eye contact quickly, the banging at the door ceases, and the woman is gone, darting away from Minerva as fast as she can.

That’s why they’re not sedated.

She doesn’t stand a chance, Minerva bursting forward.

Dr. Crane was right.

She doesn’t tire after some seconds, she doesn’t tire at all.

The lizard reaches the Avox without her breath even getting unsteady despite her unsettling speed as everyone is damn near leaving their seats in anticipation.

A pin could be heard if one were to drop at this moment.

This brief, millisecond of silence before the floor shakes with Gamemakers jumping to their feet, a new shrill of excitement and morale bursting in the air around them at the sight of the lizard lunging and snapping the petrified Avox’s body in half with one fucking bite, just as she had done to the male Avox.

They saw the struggle in the water, not realizing it had been as easy to do that much damage…but her attack on land proves that pressure in her bite was stronger than even Tawny had anticipated, and her jumping to do it was a ravenous eagerness that Snow hadn’t expected.

Money goes flying from hands reached up in cheers, as multiple voices repeatedly say, “pay up!” bets having been placed on whether Dr. Tawny Crane would pull this off or not.

She had.

And did so very well.

Snow doesn’t rejoice, or even smile for that matter.

He doesn’t openly boast and welcome the pats to his shoulders and back with wide arms.

He takes what’s given to him in passing, but his eyes are focused on the back of Hilarius Heavensbee’s head where he’s still seated, flabbergasted by what just transpired.

Snow’s hands grab his shoulders, head leaning down to casually state, “ My guy only has one out of three — yet, still managed to kick your guy’s teeth in.”

Tawny’s lizard made Dyess’ killer wasps look like sugar flies, and his heavily engineered poison ivy look like frilly dandelions.

Blue eyes scan the room small slam-full of Gamemakers and apprentices, trying to find Dr. Crane.

He’d told her to be here early, he wanted her to witness this accomplishment, to see that she’d have a successful case.

He finds one Crane, utter exasperation blatantly cloaking Dyess’ features where he’s seated a couple of rows behind Snow.

The sight is all Coriolanus had wanted, all he dreamed of ever since Dr. Gaul had informed her that she would indeed move the time of their case review sooner.

Starting toward the door, Snow shovels through more touching, patting, praise, pretending it doesn’t mean anything to him.

He’s free and outside in the hallway, glancing around to see if Tawny was present and has kept to herself.

Disappointed to find she, in fact, was not.

But downstairs, she was still standing in the corner of Dr. Gaul’s lab, keeping back toward the door, heart still hammering in her ears from when she’d heard the shouts from above her moments before, Gamemakers losing their professional decorum as they act like giddy children.

Based on their reaction, they already know it’s been a success.

Brown eyes look up at the ceiling above her, tears of relief trailing down her face after her Aunt announces, “That concludes our review,” naming off the case number, date, time of review…then in one sentence, Dr. Gaul banishes any self-doubt Tawny had left, looking toward the corner her niece is hiding in behind Volumnia’s peers of highly established Gamemakers that conceal their excitement much better than the greener ones above them. “Conclusion reached on the subject's ability to camouflage: successful. Conclusion reached on the subject’s ability to reach an immersion speed of twenty miles per hour: successful. Conclusion reached on the subject’s ability to reach a speed of twenty miles an hour Terra Firma: successful.” Her aunt announces, looking directly at her as she finishes, “Overall conclusion: successful .”

A small nod from Dr. Gaul is a silent confirmation that Tawny’s subject will be used in the Games, her niece returning the silent gesture before exiting the lab and rushing upstairs, needing to find Coriolanus.

She receives the same glory as Snow, when she reaches the hallway upstairs, Gamemakers emptying from the gallery, shoulder pats, “well done,” and “congratulations,” being said every other second by someone new and she repeatedly says, “thank you,” as graciously as she can.

Platinum hair catches her eye, and he sees her, lips pulling at the corners, only noticed by her.

He’s proud, she thinks to herself, starting toward him.

Then, abruptly, Dyess is coming for her, wide smile and arms outstretched.

She’s relieved at his reaction, having deciding not to tell him about any of this despite him pressing her to.

He hadn’t even been aware it was getting reviewed as soon as it was until she was getting dressed two hours sooner than she normally would be, accidentally waking him up in the process…then he insisted on coming to work earlier, too, to see it for himself.

Snow watches as she nearly jumps on her husband, eyes closed with her giant grin, face streaked with tears.

“You did it!” Dyess exclaims, kissing her before wipe the tear stains off her cheeks while. “It was brilliant, darling, brilliant.” He adds. “You’re brilliant.”

Again, his lips find hers before hugging her tightly.

She opens her eyes in his embrace to see Coriolanus looking at her, his expression now blank and nearly distant, but he says enough without all the faux hoopla her husband carries on:

Snow is proud, she is brilliant, and this eminence is only a small taste of champagne rain shared between them.

She waits for him in his office, seated at his desk, fumbling with her wedding ring as she sniffles and wipes the tears of bitterness away from her blue eyes.

She’d known exactly what case her husband had given Dr. Crane as soon as Philo Marius had described it to her.

Livia had missed the case review due to its last minute expedition, having her own lab to teach with her students.

A lizard with spikes down its back.

Vague and certainly not a unique description of any of the past subjects created at the Citadel.

When he mentioned the lizard's teeth… that was what startled her because she had been the only one to come up with such as that.

And Tawny Crane had taken it and ran with it, all with Livia’s husband’s stamp of approval.

No, Tawny hadn’t taken it. It had been given to her.

Handed off.

The door opens, Coriolanus taking a moment to stop and look at her, handsome and charming as he immediately starts unloading, excitedly.

“Darling, it was incredible . It snapped that Avox in half. With one bite. It strikes like a damn snake, it’s so brisk. And it’s fast – on land, and in water – we’ll only need one more, or else all the tributes will be slaughtered by a bunch of Minervas.” He chuckles at the thought.

“ Minervas ?” She asks him, taking a breath.

“Dr. Crane named it after her mother.” He scoffs. “Rather fitting.”

It’s now that he notices her fully.

“Comfortable?” He asks her lightly, nodding to her in his chair, and she stares at him.

He now sees the smeared makeup of her eyes, wad of tissue in one hand, her wedding ring laying on his desk, plucked off her finger.

His demeanor immediately shifts.

He allows the irritation he’d been keeping under the surface ever since seeing Dyess put on a good show of praise for Dr. Crane’s accomplishment, to now show plainly on his face.

Patience was already a luxury that was growing a little more difficult for him to afford, and here his own wife is.

Staring him in the eye while gouging the price of it higher.

“Aren’t you ever the proud partner?” She asks him, sniffling.

“Put the ring back on, Livia.” He orders flatly, giving her the opportunity to.

“You gave her my case.”

“I gave her your failed case.” He corrects her. “Which is no different than any past cases you get to correct.”

“It is different.” She hisses. “It is different, Coriolanus, and you know very well it is different.”

She could tolerate his late nights, his lingering stares, not that she believed he was have an affair by any means, but things such as that did get to her at times, though it was bearable…but this was unacceptable .

This was unbearable .

She can’t pretend not to notice this .

“You realize you are exalting another woman and slapping your own wife down only to prove to everyone you’re good at your job, and get the same round of applause you’ve been chasing since we were children?”

“I gave her a failed case. Just like every single scientist here gets a failed case multiple times a year to retrace and have an opportunity to make a success out of it.” He stands over her, leaning over his desk, large hands bracing against the wood on either side of her hands, blue eyes peering condescendingly into hers. “You’re acting like a child, Livia. A petty child. All because someone you don’t like played with something that you once had. I gave her a failed case. One that just so just so happened to be one of yours.” He adds it, fingertips brushing against the damp skin of her cheek, black tears from her mascara staining his skin.

He wants to recoil and grab his handkerchief, cleaning his hands of her bitter jealousy taking physical shape, but he tolerates it for the sake of not provoking a further scene at work.

“And I meant no offense, in doing so, Livia. I promise.” He says, next, gently, grasping her chin in his fingers.

She had seen him do this so many times to others, be so endearing and attentive, making them feel as if they were the only people that held his interest.

Livia wasn’t a complete fool, she had grown up with him, she had witnessed some of his more morally gray decisions from their time in the Academy, through University, and now, in their careers…but none of those decisions had ever affected her so personally.

“I’m proud of you, Coriolanus.” She lies as she whispers it, her left hand holding at his fingers that hold her chin. “And I love you…”

It lingers, more to be said, he waits for her to speak it.

“...I think I just need to go to my mother’s for a few days.” It’s finished with her plucking his hand from her, rubbing her red lips together.

Her lack of support disappointed him – a new occurrence, as he can’t recall any time in the past she looked at him the way she is now.

It gives him the same feeling his father had always given him whilst he craved his approval…the same feeling he’d felt ten years before with a certain girl from District 12.

After everything I’ve done for…all I’ve given you…it’s still not enough .

He had done his best to ensure Dr. Crane’s success because it reflected well on him, and anything that reflected well on him, reflected well on Livia.

The higher he climbed, the higher she would.

Yet she was spitting it all back in his face, ungrateful and demeaning.

“Is that so?” He asks her, tonelessly, imagining her rushing to her mother, crying on about how horrible he was to her, how humiliated she had been by the looney Dr. Crane, who’d once been seen as too mentally unwell to babysit a goldfish, let alone retrace one of Livia Snow’s cases, and exceed everyone’s expectations.

“It is so.” She replies, anger still cloaked under her teary-eyed gaze. “I won’t have to come in to assist with the Games as none of my cases got selected for participation …so I’ll stay with my mother, and you can stay here, assist with the Games, and wallow in your laudation.”

He has to bite his tongue to keep from saying, “ Technically speaking, one of your cases did get selected for participation.”

Instead, he thinks of how his time without her at home would be spent.

He would be wallowing in far more than his laudation…

“Very well, darling,” Comes from his lips as he watches her stand to her feet, deliberately leaving her ring on his desk.

The kiss to his cheek is empty, as if she’s long abandoned him in her mind, and is now only acting on doing so, and when she goes to leave him, this realization begins to settle in as he slowly makes his way around his desk, picking the emerald cut diamond up, blue eyes acrimoniously on her back as she walks away.

He opens the drawer to his desk, grabbing at the file he’d originally come to collect for his nine o’clock meeting regarding Dr. Crane’s case review, in which the board will officially sign to have her case be the third and final feature in the Games this year, leaving his office.

It doesn’t take long before Philo appears, always keeping a look out for Snow, having learned to move when he moves because if he doesn’t, he’ll miss his footing and won’t be able to keep up with Coriolanus in the slightest.

Things around Snow were ever changing, a back-up plan for a back-up plan was always tucked away in his mind, he always maintained his stride of several steps ahead of those around him, keeping himself upright and standing tall in the race that was Gamemaking and the politics that it all boiled down to.

“Mr. Marius,” Coriolanus mumbles, the man who once trailed after him like a nervous puppy now walked shoulder to shoulder with him, in-step with him perfectly.

“Mr. Snow.” Philo replies.

“Please, extend an invitation to Dr. Crane for a celebratory dinner at my apartment tonight.” He states.

“Dr. Tawny Crane, or Dr. Dyess Crane, sir?”

Snow resists the smirk that wants to come to his lips as he recalls Dyess' angered expression in the gallery earlier.

“ Tawny .”

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x gaul oc #coriolanus snow x oc #young!coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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simiansmoke · 1 year ago

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@k-ruelty

//PAST

It was just another fucking day in training where Dread and the other recruits seemed to make it their top most mission to badger and humiliate the prince of the Kongs. DK figured it was some weird power-trip thing, but it still didn't make it any less annoying...or exhausting.

Sporting a few fresh bites and bruises, the young prince dragged his feet along behind him on his way to his bunker...a tree house near a cliff that overlooked the sea. Though he was royalty and had a place for him at the palace, he never really felt like he had a place there. And if he did stake out one, he'd just have to deal with his Dad berating him about how he looked so beat up and how he could do better!

Scowling, he'd almost made it up the first rung of a boardplank hammered into the tree to provide an easier climb up when - something scaley snagged his foot from below and jerked him down. Snorting loudly before he hit the ground, DK blinked up at the night sky of stars before his vision was interrupted with the heads of...were those-...lizards?

"Uhh...can I help you?" He grumbled, still wishing he was face planted in his bed of wooden planks and moss tufts than flat on his back and surrounded by flashing teeth.

"Oh, you can help us, lad. We're needin' an audience with the crown prince back on our boat, see?" Hissing and cackling erupted from the gaggle of crocs as they helped him back on his feet with a rough jerk. He didn't even have time to find his footing completely before they were shoving him along the fern-lined path towards the edge of the sea cliff where a rather large ship awaited, connected to the land only by a thin strip of wood.

"W-wait...! I uh, I'm not really authorized to do any royal business-" He protested, turning to try and escape the throng of lizards, though they simply shoved him along like a wave, scales and arms grabbing and slapping each other proudly as well as shoving him forward without so much as a need to get too rough considering they had numbers on their side.

"You think old blunderbuss is gonna take to some tunes - from a monkey?"

"Well, I dunno, but it's worthy a try. He's in a fuckin' mood, arrgh."

"Either way, if he doesn't care - at least there's a prince to snack on. That's always fun-"

"Wait-what!?" DK growled, only hearing snippets of the kremlings' cackles as he's goaded onto the ship and left somewhat un-supervised in what looked to be a sort of eating area. Other scaled beasts sat around tables, playing cards, eating plates of raw and rotten meat, and otherwise going about their business save for a few scowls shot his way. Reminded of the army's recieval of him, DK sighed, meandering over towards what looked to be the edge of a stage and plopped on a bottom step, rubbing his elbow as he thought about the last training session that led him to this point.

"They're just-...makin' you tough." He asserted after a moment, shaking his head to help the hair curl out of his eyes so he could allow his gaze to drift along the strange sight of the lizard men going about their duties aboard the ship. Strange...he didn't think he'd ever seen such a species before. Though their judgemental leers were all too familiar to the Kong prince.

"Ladies and laddies!" Someone from behind bellowed, causing DK to glance over his shoulder and frown at the Kremling that directed the deck's attention towards the stage "Here's an extra special treat for ya'll tonight to get you in the mood for some pillagin'!" A sharp toothed grin swiveled and flashing, beady eyes narrowed in on the Kong at the bottom of the stage steps. "Courtesy of the island that's DUE TO WELCOME US...let's enjoy the rumored song-bird prince...oh by the way, he's not even a bird like we thought! It's a..."

A drumroll coaxed a spotlight along the stage until it zoomed in on the unsuspecting Kong, causing him to jerk to his feet and raise a hand to shield his face. "Monkey boy!" Curious and angry jeers erupted from in front of him and-...he felt a brief moment of familiarity that allowed him to peek out at the vicious crowd and purse his lips as he had when he'd first been told he'd be fighting in the army for training-

But now? These creatures weren't calling for him to battle or even suffer the blows of a mob-...were they asking him to sing them something? Weird. Shifting from foot to foot as the hissing intensified and voices wet with whiskey snarled 'get on with it', Dk sighed, eyes shut as he thought back fondly of the arena...how it echoed around him and caused the bass of songs to make his fur shudder.

The shape of Dread Kong's fangs in his neck still burned red and purple, but it didn't stop him from rolling it to the side. "So...you wanna hear a song, do ya? "He implored lowly, stepping forward to huff as the announcer croc cackled, prompting a few of the closer table-dweller to peer over and see what was going on for the evening. Some kinda monkey business? That's what they were promised anyway. And who better to show the stupidity of the Kong nation than their very own prince? But they wouldn't let him loose without a proper send off. Namely a few tapped keys on a nearby piano to signal the show was starting.

Hissing softly as a hot light flashed onto him from somewhere in the distance, DK made an attempt to shift away from it, though it seemed glad to follow him as he did so. Well, until he snarled softly and leapt up several feet to scrabble his way onto the stage and scamper to the other end before it could figure out his movement plan and follow in suit.

Well...they wanted a song?? He wanted to sing. It had already been a month of focusing fully on his military training, and the only melodious sounds he'd managed was the sharp groans that had left him when Dread would bite into his neck to drag him back to the starting position of a platforming puzzle.

"M-mmh..." He huffed, feeling his muscles loosen considerably as he considered the muted melody in his head, knocking a knuckle into wood to try and pick up on the dormant rhythm he had in mind. Yeah- that was it...that was...nice.

"...y-you...just know what to say." He began, not really noticing how the feeling in the room had shifted from boisterous amusement to quiet curiosity. "...things that scare me? I should just walk away...but I can't-"

Breaking off, he nodded in place, eyes closed as he attempted to folow the rhythm soundlessly, his wet, brown eyes glazed slightly while regarding the strange crew in front of him.

"Somethin' inside me's changed..." Though some might have needed a mic to help project their voice, gorilla lungs were awfully acoustic when it came to filling a room. "I didn' know that I was starvin' til I tasted you. Don't need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo-"

There's no longer any annoying scaled creatures tilting their head in his direction; he shuts them out with his eyes closed, and the trembling power in his voice that he seemed to delight in the way one might a guilty pleasure as he husked out lyrics while suddenly dragging a wave of fingers down his chest with one arm, and up his chest with the other simultaneously as his heart threatened to inflate and lift him off his feet momentarily. "By the way...by the way- you do things to my booooo-dy ~ I didn't know that I was starving til I tasted- you...?" The finishing line seemed confused when he noticed the kremlings in the audience had turned their heads around to regard something watching the spectacle behind them.

"-til I tasted ...uh, is there food here?" He grumbled, stomach suddenly growling in protest. Royal training really took it out of a guy-

#//here i cooked something 4 u =w=#k-ruelty #//enjoy the monke show #//also use him- i mean what #long post #verse;//past performances

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inhcritance · 1 year ago

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Harry’s theory certainly sounded factual and effective in theory, but as always in science, the only way to prove something was to actually test it out in a lab setting, and Miles felt thankful that Harry wasn’t one of those crazy mad scientist types who felt the need to test an untested serum of biological agent of some kind on himself first and foremost. Miles had seen all of the movies; those types of situations never turned out well for anybody. “That’s true. While the Devi’s Breath antiserum cured everybody who was exposed to that biological agent, that was a one and done type of scenario. With the lizard DNA, it keeps self-replicating itself within the human host’s DNA, and if it’s flowing through their bloodstream at an alarming faster than the antiserum can keep treating and attacking it to bolster the immune system and fight it, they’re pretty much gonna be walking, talking Lizards right? Damn,” the younger arachnid shook his head. Wasn’t the gecko from that commercial already good enough for people to deal with? “Sounds like a plan my man. We find a way to permanently destabilize the reptilian DNA within the bloodstream, and it’ll prevent them from going full Reptile on our asses. Get it, Mortal Kombat reference?” Miles joked. “Uh, anyway, yeah! Boosting a good defense into a great defense sounds like the best possible approach we can take at the moment for everybody outside of Connors.” Miles moved over to the microscope and peered through the glass through his mask to see what kind of developments had taken place. “Huh, alright. Well good news over here on this front. The plasma is actually having a positive, proactive effect on the lizard DNA. It’s actually attacking it pretty ferociously--depleting it at a rapid pace. Not all of the lizard DNA is gone, but considering this is just a trial stage at the moment when the full serum of our own hasn’t been fully developed...yo, I’m seeing this as an absolute win so far!”

Walking, talking lizards was a very apt description of what might happen, according to their current theories, and Harry couldn't help a frown, as he nodded.

"Exactly. And leaving people like that for any second more than necessary, while better than having feral lizard people fighting us, would be cruel." He admitted.

It was worth considering, of course, as a last-resort measure if a large-scale infection took place, but Harry very much wanted to avoid that, and not only because a second pandemic caused by Oscorp would be an absolute disaster no amount of publicity could save the company from.

Spider-Man's reference, however, managed to drag the smallest huff of amusement from him, but also uplifted his mood somewhat.

"I've always been a bit more of a Super Smash Bros. person." He admitted, before the other's enthusiasm returned some of his smile back to him.

It was dangerous enthusiasm, even if they were working from very stable bases and in a very practical position. This was much better than having to react on the fly, but Harry worried. If it were on him, he'd run every single test by the book, because he knew what rushing these matters could be.

He also knew they didn't have the time nor the means, not without infecting people on purpose. And that crossed too far on human experimentation even from him. The other option, themselves, was not better: Harry was not entirely a usual human, right then, and he would not let Spider-Man, even if he'd been a usual teen, test in himself. So, they'd have to just do their best.

"That's good news." He replied, however. "And so far the simulations are not failing. What worries me is whether our anti-serum will stop where it should. Which we'll know soon enough." He added. "For now, I admit I'm impressed, you're doing much better than many scientists twice my age." He continued, before his smile turned somewhat wry. "I'd consider offering you a job at Oscorp, but I hope you have the common sense not to want a job at Oscorp."

Not as it was, right now. Which was, all things considered, a shame. It needed more people with both smarts and morals, and the latter were frankly rare sometimes.

"We won't be done, even if our tests succeed." He said afterwards. "There'll still be the matter of making sure nobody else turns into a lizard, and stopping whoever is experimenting with the blood."

Outside of Oscorp proper, of course.

"Do you have a plan? I'm someone particularly used to action," he shrugged, apologetic, "but I have the means to open doors if needed."

#beatsbymiles #(( verse: main earth 1048 ))

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years ago

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From Blood, Love and Courage - Chapter Eleven.

So, besties, the chapter I’ve been alluding to in my warnings is here. If rape is a sensitive topic for you, this is your trigger warning. I’m sorry it’s going to be sad for a while now, you’ll probably hate me a bit for breaking them, too, but it all serves a purpose. Thank you very much for your continued efforts with the chapter unlocking, I’ve decided because of the sensitive nature of this chapter, I’m abandoning the unlock feature just for the next chapter, as I doubt people will be as into this as the rest of the story. Hell, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write, in juggling the sensitivity of the topic, while remaining realistic to the narrative.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Words - 6,372

Tag list - In the comments, please message to be added/removed

Warnings - As above. 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Who’s gonna die first, yours, yours, or mine?”

“I think we’re at evens, so far.”

“Nah, it’ll be mine. Angel is nothing if not predictable in the amount he throws caution to the wind. He thinks just because Charlie doesn’t bite him any longer, he’s the damned animal whisperer.”

Sitting in a row upon the clubhouse steps, Lily, Maggie and Jodie all watched as their respective men made attempts to thwart the intelligence of the opossum who had decided to take up residence in a car in line to be crushed, the small yet feisty beast letting them know in no uncertain – and very shrilly screeched – terms that it was not about to be moved from the back of the silver Lincoln, not by them, the persuasion of food, or the large blanket they attempted to throw over it.

“Why don’t you just leave the food by the side of the door, then walk away? Let it come out in its own time, leave a trail of snacks leading away?” Maggie called in suggestion, Bishop turning to her.

“It isn’t like Cady; it doesn’t seem to be food motivated. It just wants to fight.”

“Oh, so somewhat like our youngest, then?” Maggie’s joke spurred laughter all around.

“Yeah, especially since it’s hissing,” Bishop confirmed, Angel moving in with the blanket again, only to back off when it screeched, looking perturbed.

“Ohhhhh, fuck! It’s gonna bite me, nope, no! I can’t do it, man! They got rabies or something, don’t they? It sounds like we need to fetch a damned priest!” he cringed, moving in again only to retreat, laughing nervously as the opossum further showed its fury.

“And that, my friends, is what I like to refer to as the Hispanic panic,” Lily spoke, Jodie and Maggie both snorting with laughter before falling into hysterics.

“I’m remembering that, next time there’s a lizard!” Jodie cried, flapping her hands as she laughed loudly.

“Why, doesn’t EZ like them?” Maggie inquired, watching her eyes widen.

“Oh my god, no. I was woken up the other morning by him flying out of the bed because a western fence lizard had gotten in. I had to trap it under a bowl and take it outside before he’d come out of the bathroom. I swear, he nearly ran a hole through the side of the trailer!” They continued to watch the three men dancing around it, Angel deciding he’d definitely had enough.

“Nah, I’m out!” he announced, stepping back and lighting a cigarette, the women turning to see Taza walk out of the clubhouse.

“What the hell are they doing?” he asked, frowning at the scene.

“Trying to get an opossum out of that car,” Lily confirmed. He watched the dancing around of his president and the former prospect for a short while longer, sighing before descending the steps and marching over.

“Move.” EZ stepped back, Taza reaching in, grasping the disgruntled animal by the scruff and tail at once, pulling it from the vehicle. “Gate.” He nodded in the direction, Angel jogging over to open it up, carrying it over and placing it down upon the other side before walking back.

“What do you have that we don’t, that you could just pick it up like that?” Bishop asked, Taza shaking his head.

“A set of balls, apparently.” The simplicity of his statement had the women in fits, Angel, EZ and Bishop all viewing their ladies with a certain amount of mild odium. “Dancing around it like three fucking ballerinas.” Taza continued, Lily reaching to squeeze his forearm with affection as he ascended the steps again. He returned after a few moments, handing a beer to both Jodie and Maggie, a bottle of vodka coming into her line of vision as he sat down behind her, his long legs flanking her as he topped up her drink.

“There, feeling a little more numbed?”

“I am nicely sedated from my pain, thank you,” she confirmed, leaning back against his chest. She’d had a local bout the night before, one which had ended in her getting knocked out by a decimating elbow to her head, Lily utterly incensed at her loss, especially since it was the first time a lot of the guys in the club had been to see her fight.

“Losing is a learning curve, Lilypad. It’s how you get back up again and continue that counts. To be fair, you got some really mean strikes in, prior to taking that elbow at about a hundred miles an hour,” he advised sagely.

“He’s right, Lils,” Maggie began, squeezing her knee. “And for your last two fights prior to that, you were a beast! Just keep that in mind, don’t dwell upon your losses so much. It isn’t conducive in your moving forward and bettering yourself as a fighter.”

Jodie leaned over, kissing her shoulder. “Yeah, what Taza and the good doctor said. I’d try and add something here of profound elegance, but I’m fucking hammered, so nope.” Her statement caused a lot of laughter, even more so when she called out to her boyfriend. “EZ?”

“Yes, carina?”

“Will you take me to your trailer and do me so hard, I can’t feel my legs any longer?” It was the way she asked so sweetly that cracked everyone up, Jodie and her cute little voice, coupled with a huge smile. EZ didn’t even respond with words. He merely walked over, ducked, threw her over his shoulder with ease and carried right on over to his trailer.

“Don’t disturb me for the foreseeable,” he spoke, pointing between his brother and Bishop.

“For how long, what, five minutes, brother?” Bishop couldn’t help but tease, Angel joining in.

“Or are you gonna spoil her and get to a whole ten minutes?” They were met by a middle finger, entertained by his response as they moved over to the clubhouse, everyone relocated to the couches to make room, Lily finding herself pulled onto Angel’s lap as he hugged her gently. Gently, because of her suspected cracked rib from the previous night, the bruising already purple and very angry looking.

“Still damned proud of you, you know, even if you did take a beating,” he told her, hand stroking her thigh through her jeans before reaching for the beer Maggie passed to him, having gone in and grabbed a whole armful of bottles from the new prospect, EZ having been patched in for three weeks now.

“I know, and that does help the huge fucking sting right in my pride!” she rolled her eyes, resting her head to his. They’d been together for seven months at that point, the troubles and wobbles in their relationship long in the past, everything going along beautifully. Well, some turbulence still shook them at times, but that was normal for any couple. It couldn’t always be smooth sailing.

It was definitely going well enough for them to begin discussing a significant change in their living arrangements, though.

“Nah, no apartment. If I’m moving out of a house, then it’s to another house,” he staunchly spoke a few hours later, sitting on one of the couches inside the clubhouse. “Besides, the whole reason you said you weren’t down for moving into my place was because we could find someplace else with more space, so we could do the outdoor gym thing too. Apartment living means no backyard.”

She moved back to the listing page, pursing her lips lopsidedly, making noises of concentration. “Oooooh!”

“Nope! Too far.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What? It’ll take us a good forty-five minutes to get back to our respective areas for work!” She supposed he had a point. Onto the next. “Nope!”

“Angel, what the hell is wrong with that one! You haven’t even seen the pictures of the inside!”

“It’s too white! We live in a fucking desert; it’ll look grubby and need hosing down too often.” And on they continued. “Hell no!”

Lily was incandescent. “What now?”

“The number, it’s 1408.”

She turned to him, attempting to hold onto her laughter. “Seriously? It’s been three months since we watched that movie, and you’re still spooked out?”

“Can’t do it.”

“Angel! I swear, your superstitious nature is next level.” Shaking her head, she snorted with laughter, her boyfriend widening his eyes, looking anxious.

“He never left the room, Lily!”

“Baby, John Cusack is completely fine, has made plenty more movies since, and isn’t stuck in a continuously nefarious supernatural loop within a room at the Dolphin Hotel.”

He shuddered, making a motion with his hand that she should continue to scroll. She did, laughing to herself softly. His dramatic tendencies never ceased to amuse her. “Okay, what are you going to freak out over with this one?”

He raised his eyebrows, Lily relieved when he made his usual noise whenever he was interested in something, clicking the rental listing. “It looks a bit plain.”

“We can decorate,” she advised, swiping through the pictures.

“Woah, the size of the lounge!”

“And the kitchen!”

“Backyard is good, too.”

“I’m emailing them right now.”

“Do it!” he yelled, excited, Lily turning to kiss him. She loved it when they were on the same page about things, and that house was incredible. True, it was in a slightly less savoury neighbourhood than she would have liked, but to be fair, living with a Mayan had its advantages. They tended not to be fucked with by petty criminals.

They saw a few other houses they liked the look of, also emailing those agents about booking a viewing too before heading back to her place, Angel being summoned as soon as he was through the door.

“Bro time! Bro time!” Charlie chorused, dancing around on his perch, his friend straight over to let him out.

“He isn’t even my bird any longer. Look at that, how much he loves you!” Lily cried, pointing as Angel grabbed a handful of his trail mix sitting down on the couch while Charlie made himself comfortable, lying down on his chest. He rarely snuggled with anyone, not even Lily unless she was upset about something, but he’d taken to Angel so much, he loved to cuddle up to him while he was fed. Lily’s favourite photograph of them was Angel asleep in bed, and Charlie curled up on his neck, using his cheek as a pillow. It melted her heart entirely.

“He’s my boy, aren’t you, Charlie?”

“Angel’s boy,” the bird confirmed, clicking his beak happily and taking another piece of banana offered to him. Lily didn’t even need to take him to the vet for a claw trim any longer, since he’d happily sit and let Angel do it. “TV, TV. Upside down.”

“I think someone wants to watch Stranger Things.” Angel commented, except whenever they did, they had to keep pausing, waiting for Charlie’s squawking and shouting to pass whenever something dramatic happened, the bird a huge fan of the show. True to form, as soon as the opening credits rolled, he was on form, dancing around, wings flapping, comb up, hopping across Angel’s chest, over his stomach and onto his legs before whistling, head banging and shouting excited nonsense. He finally settled again, Lily moving to lie with her head on Angel’s chest, his arm around her, stroking her shoulder.

There he was, content, happy, curled up with the love of his life, and her amazing, crazy parrot, watching one of his favourite TV shows. His life was far from perfect, the cartel issues causing him and the rest of the club a huge headache, but as he sat there, he realised this was probably the first time he’d ever been truly happy and settled. Lily and Charlie, they were his little family, who loved and accepted him completely. He wasn’t used to that, but now that he had it, he wouldn’t part with it for anything.

He couldn’t wait until he’d be with her all the time, moving in together, smiling to himself as he kissed her head, realising that he virtually was already. There’d perhaps only be two days a week at that point in their relationship where they weren’t together, and usually he’d call in at her workplace on those days for a quick visit to see how she was. If they ever had to go longer, they missed each other hugely, just like later in that week, his club endeavours and her extra shifts she’d picked up to cover Carlos being off sick meaning they went four days without seeing one another.

“I’m just leaving training now, but I’m walking over, so I’ll be just over an hour, maybe longer as one of those houses we saw is just off my normal walking route, and I could swing by and take a little peep,” Lily told him on the phone, Bishop calling to everyone that templo was about to begin.

“Alright, mamacita. Listen, I gotta go, we’ve got templo, but I’ll see you soon, alright? Love you.”

She smiled, butterflies fluttering through her stomach. She’d missed him so much, and couldn’t wait to see him. “Love you too, baby.” Ending the call, she packed up her things, pushing her kit into her locker, figuring she’d pick it up the following day when she had her car with her, so she could throw it all in the back and take it home to wash then, hugging Ernesto goodbye and thanking him for her session before leaving, the evening still hot even though the sun was low in the sky.

The walk was beautiful, the road leading out of Holtville between there and Santo Padre becoming less dense with buildings, giving way to the natural beauty of the hills, the sun sinking further into the horizon, deep orange and pink. By the time she reached Santo Padre, it was dark, the stars glittering through the acres of sky as she reached the built-up area, deciding against taking a detour to go and view the rental accommodation, her need to see Angel overriding it. They could swing by the following day.

The streets became quieter the further she walked, the part of town the scrapyard was located within not particularly well occupied, especially at night. There was a very specific reason why the clubhouse was located in the area it was, after all. She made her final turn, now thirteen blocks away, her feet aching, glad to be edging ever closer to being able to sit down, have a drink and kick off her Vans. She stopped to send Angel a message, hearing a car pulling up behind her, not able to press send before it was suddenly snatched from her hand.

Her fight sense kicked in, striking out behind her, throwing an elbow, before more than one set of hands was upon her. Someone slapped a hand over her mouth, another grabbing her arms, a third hauling her legs from the floor as they carried her quickly, ducking between two buildings and carrying on down the alley, darkness swathing them as she thrashed and struggled, trying to scream, biting the hand over her mouth before she was thrown to the ground and kicked several times in the stomach.

“Fucking shut up, bitch!” a male voice spoke, taking something made of cloth and shoving it into her mouth. “Imma enjoy this, beating the shit out of you.” He clutched at her throat, his fist making hard contact with her cheek, punching her repeatedly, then her eye, then her forehead as she kicked out wildly and screamed through her gag, her legs then held by one of the others, the remaining man grabbing her arms. “Shut the fuck up! If you’re not quiet, I’ll fucking kill you, understand?”

A sharp blade made her eyes widen in terror, fighting against the hold on her limbs, that knife suddenly pressing to her neck, her skin slicing. He held the blade against her, punching her repeatedly in the stomach, standing to kick blows against her ribs and her legs, terror flooding her. They were strong guys, all masked, and maybe one at a time, she might have had a chance to defend herself, but three at once and she was powerless to prevent the brutal beating she received.

As the panic flooded her, her mind questioned why, when if they wanted to rob her, they could have done so by now. No. Whoever was doing this to her, their goal was to hurt her, not steal, this made even more abundantly clear when the man assailing her dropped down, unfastening and yanking her denim shorts down, using the knife he’d previously held to her throat to cut her underwear off.

No. No, no. This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t do this to her, and as she fought and struggled, she knew she wouldn’t escape it, sheer terror gripping her as he unzipped his pants and forced himself upon her. “Fucking be quiet and take it.” His fist met her face again, the knife pressed against her neck once more, scared tears falling down her face, the pain indescribable, the fear horrendous. “Not so fucking tough now, are you?”

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to think of something else, anything else than what was happening to her. If she could set her mind to another place, a different time, maybe it wouldn’t be so frightening, but the pain... Thinking it was finished, that her ordeal was over, she tried to fight for freedom again, reasoning they’d now want to get out of there quickly, only for the man who’d held her legs to have his turn, laughing as he did. “She likes it really, dirty fucking slut.”

She felt light headed as the gag started to work its way to the back of her throat, her lungs burning, her face tingling. “Hey dude, I think she’s choking.”

“Don’t fucking take it out, she’ll scream!”

“She’ll fucking die if I don’t!” He pulled it from her, Lily crying out immediately.

“Please stop, please! Don’t do this to me anymore! Take anything you want, just don’t hurt me!”

“Shut your goddamned noise up!” the first man who’d violated her warned, slapping a hand over her mouth, clutching her neck hard, fingertips like vices tightening upon her throat, punching the side of her head a few times until she subdued, her vision clouding. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact she’d been punched into delirium, but the third man took his turn did so with what she sensed to be a little reluctance, not as into what the first two had inflicted upon her, but because she was drifting, it was but a guess, wishing, praying they’d knock her out to end her suffering.

The fear that she might not survive it then jolted through her. What if they killed her? She closed her eyes, seeing herself in Angel’s arms, his hands stroking her fondly, nothing but love and adoration, no pain, no fear, no having pieces of herself torn away, flesh ripped, breath strangled.

That mental picture was shattered by the forceful unload of the last man within her, more kicks and punches delivered before the three of them absconded, leaving her there, barely conscious, bleeding, and in more pain than she’d ever felt in her entire life, with no phone to call for help. Angel. She had to get to Angel...

“Anything?” EZ asked, Angel coming back in after checking outside of the gates once more, seeing if he could spot Lily approaching from further up the street.

“No, and she still ain’t picking up,” he muttered. That wasn’t like her at all. She always answered her phone when she was walking.

“Maybe she did go by that house to take a look? Who knows, there might have been an agent there and she managed to talk them into showing her around inside?”

“Doesn’t explain why she isn’t answering my calls, though,” Angel frowned, EZ seeing the flaw in his logic. “I’m going to look for her. She’s never this late.”

EZ stood up, nodding. “I’ll come too, you take her usual route and I’ll head up where she’d come from if she’d been to see that house. Maybe she just didn’t want to be rude and answer if she did get a viewing. We’ll find her, though, bro. It’ll be fine.” Angel nodded, telling Taza to call him if she showed up before heading out towards his bike, looking up the name of the street the house was on and relaying it to EZ before they rode out, Coco hauling the gates open for them...

Lily had no idea how long she’d been lying there when her ears picked up the sound of a motorcycle roaring past the alleyway, pushing herself up, the pain shooting through her entire body indescribable. She felt broken completely, assessing her damage, looking down to see her shorts cast aside, her legs covered in welts and scuffs, her top partially torn, blood running from between her legs, from her throat, from her nose. Her wrists felt like they were made of rubber as she tried to stand, only managing to get to her knees, the pain inside her sharp like a blade, sobbing, taking her weight on her elbows as she fought for breath.

She wasn’t safe out there. She needed to get to safety.

Shouting for help was useless, the area now dead with all the industrial businesses shut, the small strip mall opposite closed. No one came down there at night. Dragging herself across the ground, she reached for her shorts, screaming in pain as she reached to put them on. Closing her eyes, she pictured Angel in her mind, knowing that was her motivation, gritting her teeth against the burning pain as she pulled them on, managing to stand, locating her bag. If only she still had her phone.

Limping along, she managed to get free of the alley, the sudden wide space scary, her eyes darting around, terrified they might still be close by, but reasoning they’d likely be long gone from the scene of their heinous crime. She staggered, falling against the bricks of the building, her head swimming, taking deep breaths.

She wasn’t safe out there. She needed to get to safety.

Thirteen blocks, she could do it, yet the road kept changing in angles, veering diagonally, her head pounding, knowing she had a concussion, her vision blurring more as she reached for a street lamp to steady herself. The bike that had passed the alley... could it have been Angel? If she waited there for long enough, he’d come back that way and see her... unless he went in a circle and drove up to the scrapyard again from the other end of the street...

She wasn’t safe out there. She needed to get to safety.

She had no idea how she managed to put one foot in front of the other, but she did, limping, her left ankle not wanting to take her weight. Not broken, sprained, she wagered, or badly bruised, Lily hugging each building for safety so she didn’t fall. It took everything she had, the blocks passing, nine... eight... seven... six... five... almost there. Almost safe. But really, would she be? In herself, everything had been shattered, the damage extended to beyond what they’d done to her physically. Her mind didn’t feel like hers, she hadn’t been able to defend herself, her very identity stripped from her in the worst, most brutal way.

She hadn’t been able to stop what had happened to her. She’d been defenceless. And she could be at any time again.

This could happen again.

Her vision swam, falling down the curb, hitting the road with a thud. The pain barely registered through what she already felt. Four blocks. Her body burned with pain and determination, the gates finally coming into view as she gasped hard, her ribs screaming in pain, likely broken, she thought. Stumbling at the last curb, she tripped up it and fell again, resting on the ground for a moment, the sidewalk cool against her burning face, tears sliding down her cheeks.

What had she done to deserve this? Why her?

Crawling along the floor, she felt like she’d been dragged over barbed wire, reaching up and with the last of her strength, pounding her hand against the metal gate. Please, let someone hear her...

Coco had just stepped outside to get the fire pits lit, squirting lighter fluid over the wood, a nearby Gilly dubiously telling him he was using way too much when he heard a tapping noise.

“Yo, be quiet!” he hissed, listening. “You hear that?”

Tap, tap, tap.

“Gate.” Gilly confirmed with a nod, both of them heading over there. They were naturally suspicious, looking through the gap between where they met, not seeing anything there. Coco unlocking and swinging it open, looking around, and then down.

“Holy fucking shit, bro!” he gasped, seeing a bloodied, barely conscious Lily lying there, rushing to her. “Lily? Lily, girl, what the fuck happened?” He reached for her, not knowing where on earth to grasp her in order to pick her up, she was so badly beaten. Had someone beaten her? She easily looked as if a car could have hit her, mangled as she was. She looked up, her vision blurring again, knowing there was a man next to her, but not quite sure who. She heard someone shouting ‘it’s Lily, she’s hurt’, but was she even at the scrapyard? What if she wasn’t? What if...

Pulling herself up, disorientated, she tried to get away, confused, the pain shooting through her again. Coco wrapped his arms around her, trying to steady her as she shot through the gate, the sudden presence of a male body against hers sending a rip of fear through her. She screamed, terror finding her voice, thrashing, scratching his face until he released her, crashing back down.

“Lily, it’s me, it’s Coco,” he spoke, standing over her. “You’re alright, it’s okay, chiquita, you’re safe. Calm down, let me help you.”

Gilly shut the gate again, about to go and assist, Taza approaching. He took in the scene, his eyes quickly assessing everything as she lay there, screaming over and over, her injuries, the blood running down her legs, the panic. Grabbing hold of Coco by his belt, he hauled him back, pushing him, putting space between them and her.

“Back up, give her room,” he spoke quietly, Coco a little exasperated.

“Shit, Taza, she don’t need room, she needs help! Look at her!”

Taza widened his eyes a little. “Yeah. Look at her. Look at her legs.”

Coco glanced back, his head spinning back. “She’s bleeding, homes! We gotta help her.”

“We need to give her room. Think about why a woman specifically would have blood running down her legs, and why – even well meaning – a man looming over her is making her scream uncontrollably. Think about it.”

Her watched the cogs turn in Coco’s brain, before the penny dropped. “She’s been... someone... oh fuck.”

“Yes. Oh fuck.” Taza looked back at her, her entire body trembling, wracked with panicked breaths, trying to curl into herself more. “Go and get me a blanket.” He nodded, running back to the clubhouse, Gilly looking on helplessly, telling him he was going to tell Bishop. “Keep everyone back, brother. She doesn’t need an audience right now.”

He knew trauma when he saw it, and right then, Lily was deeply, deeply traumatised from her ordeal. He had to treat her like a baby fawn, keep steady, speak quietly, ever mindful not to spook her. If she tried to bolt again, she’d inadvertently end up hurting herself even more than whoever had done this to her already had.

Coco arrived back with the blanket, handing it over. “Thank you, now, step back. I know what to do.” He nodded again, trusting that Taza had it handled, watching him approach her very slowly.

“Lilypad, it’s me, Taza. I know you’re scared and hurt, and I know why, too, I can see what happened to you,” he began, crouching before he lay down flat on his side upon the ground, making himself low and small, so he was on her same level, not above her. He lay out with a good six foot gap between them, slowly reaching with the blanket, pushing it out towards her. “Here, something tells me you might want this, so it’s there if you do, okay, darling?”

Her eyes were like saucers, her body still shaking, her face beginning to swell in places. She reached for the woven cloth, pulling it over, wincing, shaking it, unfolding it as best she could and pulling it over herself. Something to cover her, something she could curl into, hide in. He knew she needed a little piece of security.

“Okay, is that better?” he asked softly. She didn’t reply, merely shook. “Alright, you don’t need to speak, it’s fine. All in your own time, sweetheart. When you’re ready, though, we’re going to need to get you up and away from the gate, because Angel and EZ are out there right now looking for you, and we need to move you so they can get back in. That only happens on your timeframe, though, only when you feel you can. Do you understand, Lily?”

Again, she remained wide eyed, no reaction. He didn’t even know if she was registering anything he was saying. He kept going regardless, knowing he had to bring her back from wherever she was, because that place, it wasn’t good. He needed her to at least comprehend that she was safe. This was his first priority. “Lily, I want you to do one thing for me, just one. Listen to the sound of my voice. Just listen, and know that while you likely don’t feel it, you’re one hundred percent safe. You’re home, you’re with your family, nothing bad can get to you. I know you’re in a bad place in your mind, though, so just keep listening to my voice, okay? Just keep listening, so your mind comes back home, too.”

Finally, something registered with her, Taza watching her nod, yet still she trembled, the wounds on her neck concerning him, oozing blood all down her chest and onto the blanket. Raped at knifepoint. His stomach burned, angry flames licking against his insides. This was not the time to pay a drop of thought to his own feelings, though. “I’m here, Lilypad. Whenever you’re ready, just reach out to me, okay? All in your own time.”

He shuffled a little closer, very, very slowly, reaching his arm out. “I love you, tough girl. Come back when you think you can. I think you’re so brave.” He let his hand fall open, upturned, watching her, trembling hard, gulping. Eventually, after what felt like many, many minutes had passed, she slowly moved her hand from beneath the blanket, her fingers touching his, grasping. He smiled, his own curling steadily until they closed in a soft hold.

Coco watched it all unfolding, turning back to see the rest of the club all out on the deck, viewing it too, how amazing Taza was with her. He’d have never thought to do that, show such gentleness and patience, realising he likely would have made the situation a thousand times worse in merely attempting to help.

With a layer of trauma peeled back enough to be able to reach her, Taza kept talking softly to her, his thumb gently stroking her fingers. “Is this okay?” she nodded. “Alright. Do you feel any closer to letting me help you up? I know it’s a big ask, I know, darling, so only when you’re ready, okay? It means I’ll have to lift you, and I don’t want to be in your space if that’s still scary. If it is, we can just stay here. Do you trust me enough to let me pick you up?”

Something in him breathed a small sigh of relief when she nodded, slowly gathering himself up, nothing rushed as he stepped towards her, reaching down to her. “Okay, one arm will go around your back and the other under your legs. Is that okay?” she nodded. “Alright. Up we go.” He gently lifted her, Lily allowing him to, but her entire body stiffening with rigidity, her trembles worsening. His heart went out to her, her bravery, how frightened he could only imagine she was in that moment. The poor girl was completely terrified. “Shhhh, it’s alright. You’re safe, you're with your family. It’s okay, Lilypad.”

“Alright, everyone move out, go,” Bishop ordered quietly, knowing that even though every single one of them would be well meaning, the last thing Lily needed was a room full of people gawping at her, Taza taking the steps as he swung the door open for him, just the two of them taking her inside. Taza sat her down on one of the couches, Lily curling into a ball, her trembles still violent.

“Baby, do you need anything?” Bishop asked her softly, keeping back. She pressed her lips together, her eyelids fluttering, staring at a fixed point somewhere past his legs.

In the quietest of voices, she spoke. “Angel.”

“He’s on his way, sweetheart. He rode all the way over to Holtville, looking for you. He won’t be long now.” He made a move to approach her, wanting to comfort her in some way, Lily pressing her body back against the couch cushions, Taza splaying his hand out across his chest to halt him, shaking his head and jerking it back in the direction of the bar. Bishop nodded, walking over with him.

“She’s completely traumatised,” his VP began, sighing, pulling a bottle of the strongest bourbon they had from its place and pouring two measures they both sank in one.

“What happened to her, Taza? Has she spoken? All I got was Gilly shouting about her being hurt.”

Taza took a deep breath. “Raped.” he croaked, shaking his head, Bishop’s mouth falling open, his eyes closing tightly. The poor kid. “Done at knifepoint. Beneath that blanket, she’s all cut up. She didn’t tell me, but the amount of blood running down her legs and how she completely freaked out, I put the pieces together, wishing the puzzle would have given me something, anything different to what it did.”

“Jesus fuck...” Bishop trailed off, pouring another shot and sinking it. “We need to get her to Maggie.” A hand on his arm halted his reaching for his phone, Taza shaking his head.

“We need to wait for Angel to get back, and for everything to be done when she’s ready for it to. She’s fucking traumatised. Deeply traumatised. Everything has to be on Lily’s timeframe.”

Bishop sighed, turning to view her, her eyes glazed, still trembling. “Yeah,” he breathed, scratching his stubbly jaw, “I see that. Angel is gonna go ballistic.”

“I don’t know what was said to him, but you need to wait outside and explain it all to him, let him know he has to tread lightly with her, although with him, I’m unsure she’ll have the fear there, but I don’t know. I don’t want to second guess the emotions of a woman who’s just had the worst thing anyone can inflict upon her happen to her.”

“I just told him she’d turned up and he needed to get back here. He yelled at me, Angel being Angel and demanding an answer, but truth was, I didn’t have anything more to tell him other than she was hurt.” His attention was taken then by the sound of a bike pulling up outside, pouring another measure and sinking it before he got up, heading out.

“Where is she? What the fuck happened, Bish?” Angel demanded, throwing his helmet and gloves down as he ran for the steps, Bishop halting him.

“Woah, easy,” he began, sighing. How on earth was he meant to word it, tell his brother what had just happened to his girlfriend, when the thing to happen was so horrific, he didn’t even want to speak it? “She’s inside, but I need you to stay calm.”

“Stay calm? You told me she was hurt, how am I meant to stay calm? Who the fuck hurt her?”

“Steady, come on, Angel.” he shoved his chest, grasping his arm. “She’s in there, but she’s... she’s in a state of shock, traumatised. She was badly beaten, and raped.”

At hearing those words, rage surged like wildfire through Angel, simultaneously meeting something that felt like an icicle plunging into his chest. “She was... she... what... what the fuck...” he babbled, his voice pinched, clasping his head in his hands as he spun around, taking big breaths, feeling light all over as the unpleasantness took root within him, like a poisonous vine. “Who?”

“We don’t know, brother. She isn’t speaking, it took Taza twenty minutes or so just to even get her up off the floor, she’s so badly shaken. That’s why you gotta go in there quiet, no storming, no shouting, and by god, mano, I can’t imagine how much you wanna let your anger win right now, but you have to hold it back, for her.”

Angel nodded, grasping Bishop’s arm, taking a deep breath before walking for the door, letting himself in. Looking around, he missed her at first, before her sudden emerging from within the blanket caught his vision, walking to her, speeding up when he witnessed her scrambling over the couch, yelping in pain, throwing herself into his arms as he sat.

The noise she made, a long, shrill, wounded cry leaving her torn up body... he’d never forget that sound as long as he lived. It made his blood run cold, his heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

“I got you, I got you, I got you, sweet pea. Shhhhh, it’s alright, I’m here, I’m here now.” She just howled, screaming against his neck as she clung to him, her emotions a swirling vortex that collided within her.

Everything still hurt, nothing was okay, but finally, in the arms of her love, she at least felt safe.

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes smut #angel reyes x ofc #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic #clayton cardenas #clayton cardenas fanfiction #clayton cardenas smut #clayton cardenas x ofc

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luimagines · 4 years ago

Note

I’m wondering how the boys would deal with you getting sick/wounded?

Masterlist

A lot of protectiveness that's for sure! Mixed in with some self doubt and anxiety! But lots of care and gentleness just for you!

Since there isn't a specification, I'll try to write platonically but I'm still on a crush roll so if feels come out or are implied, then I'll take full blame and pass it on to the previous prompt.

I��m gonna try something with this prompt and only write three guys per part. The other parts will be out shortly with the others but I don’t want to only post like once every other week even if I’m trying to write everyday because they’re so many of them. I do want to write them all! But it does take awhile.

SO! If I like this system I’ll keep it but it’s a trial run.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, PART 1

Scenario under the cut!

Sky

Sky was running through the forest, slashing down all the monsters that were within his reach.

You, Wild and Twilight on top of Epona ran past him, chasing the black lizalfos that caused this whole mess. He stayed back, knowing that speed wasn't his strong suit. Between all the skeletons, lizards and all the keese that started showing up in the mean time, he was sure that he was more needed here to keep the monsters from reaching you.

He kept his focus on the fight and moved with practiced motions.

Monster began falling under his blade, left and right, front and back. He was no longer paying attention to where his teammates are. Just the motion and and the thrill of the fight to guide him, all other senses forgotten, he missed your cry.

He didn't know you turned back.

He didn't know you came to fight next to him.

He didn't see the monster coming up behind him-

"SKY!" He was suddenly pushed to the side, the ground coming up to meet him with dirt shooting all over his face.

He hears you cry again but in pain, and once again when he hears you hit the ground.

Sky gets to his feet as fast as he can and spins around.

There you are, on the ground, hand clenched around a growing red blotch on your other arm. You're glaring up at the skeleton that came from behind. Your sword is on the opposite side to you, but it doesn't matter much if your dominant arm is out of commission.

The skeleton shakes, as if in laughter even if no sounds comes forth from the monster. Sky sees that the skeleton no longer has its attention on him but on you. It raises its arm, sword raised and sharp and begin to bring it in your direction.

Sky grits his teeth and swings his sword.

Metal clangs against metal and Sky is surprised to see the amount of force that was behind the initial blow. It nearly sends him back to the ground but he merely slides a few inches backwards instead.

He chances a glance down at you and knows that you won't be able to fight beyond what already transpired.

The battle around him lessens somewhat, the sounds dimming until he only hears the blood pumping in his ears.

He's tired.

But Sky was never one to be a quitter. With one final push, he puts al of his weight into his next strike and knocks the skeleton away from their stalemate. While it's struggling to gain its balance, he slices upwards and cuts the entire thing in half.

He takes a step back and glances around the battlefield.

The others are making quick work of the monsters still standing. He trusts them to finish the job so he turns on his heel and kneels beside you.

"Let me see." Sky pulls your hand away from the wound. It goes down your bicep and across your elbow. He can't tell how deep it is, but it's long and bleeding.

"I'll be alright." You try to smile and get up. Sky doesn't let you. "Better me than you anyway."

"Not true." He glares at you. Sky is quick to take out his supplies and bandages and begin to work on your arm. He feels angry even after the monster has been dealt with. You shouldn't have gotten hit. You shouldn't have gotten hit on his account, he amends in his head. "It'll never be true."

"I've had worse." You shrug and hiss when he takes out his personal disinfectant and applies it to your wound. He's running low, but it's the best he can do since he's not the one carrying the healing potions and he can't do what Hyrule does, period.

He doesn't feel good about your answer and by the look on your face, he knows that you know it too.

"Why did you do that?" Sky asks after a moment of silence. He refuses to look at you head on. He knows he's still glaring and he doesn't want to aim it in your direction. He's too tired to try and hide it like he usually would with any other person. You'll just have to put up with it.

"You were gonna get hit." You reply, watching him work. "What was I supposed to do? Just let that happen?"

"You didn't have to take the hit for me. Yelling would have been fine. Let me know that it was there so I could deal with it." He growls.

"I tried." You stress and nearly pull your arm back when he puts a little more pressure on the cut than necessary. He keeps you close though so it's not like you succeed. "I yelled your name like three times. It's not like I wanted to push you face first into the dirt. If I let that thing hit you, you would have been given a way worse hit than this stupid cut on my arm."

Sky flexes his jaw and begins wrapping said stupid cut. He's inclined to believe you and he's sure that you're right. But....

He's allowed to not like it.

"Can you stand?" He asks, letting some of the anger fall from his face. Sky makes a quick evaluation over himself and realizes that he's relatively unharmed. A bit bruised, sure, but nothing worse than that. Certainly no blood drawn on his end.

You nod, grab your sword with your good hand and begin to get up. Out of habit, you instinctually put your wounded hand behind you to stabilize yourself and fall back down in pain.

Sky makes the executive decision to pick you up bridal style and carry you back to the others.

"SKY!" You cry and thrash around. "My injury is on my arm! I can stand just fine!"

He takes one good look at you then and shrugs. "You couldn't even get up. I don't mind."

"It's not about if you mind or not!" You continue. "It's the principle of the thing!"

He doesn't reply. Sky just looks away with a smirk, under the guise of looking for the rest of the group.

You catch on and stutter out some kind of argument but he tunes it out.

He sees Wild and Twilight back, angry and lizardless.

It's fine, he thinks. Because you're all together again and getting closer to figuring this whole thing out while putting a stop to it.

You begin to beg to be let down, unless the others make some kind of comment about it. But Sky feels the little voice inside of him to let it happen anyway.

Pay back for taking his hit.

Better you than him, HA! Not if he has anything to say about it.

Wild

Wild was on a roll!

After a successful dungeon raid (he's getting better that those), a great meal enjoyed by the whole team and no lecture about ditching the group, he on a golden streak! Nothing can get him down!

He continues to have a large grin on his face even after everyone has eaten and begins to settle down for the night. Everyone seems to be in good spirits.... except for you.

After you ate, you tried to keep up with everyone's good fortune and attitude but something felt wrong, you said you didn't feel good so you called it a night early, seemingly forgetting that it was your turn to take first watch.

Wild doesn't think much of it at first and continues with his nightly routine.

It's really only when it's right before he plans on going to bed that he notices something. The others that are still awake are quick to notice it as well and each of them share concerned glances.

You began to curl into yourself as you slept. Nothing weird about that, right? Maybe you were just cold but then... You started to whimper and grunt, like you were scared and in pain. A cough here and then but it doesn't spark any idea of what might be bothering you.

Twilight is the first to get up and make his way toward you but you wake up first, shooting to your feet with a frightening speed and all but stumble and crawl away from the camp.

Wild stands at nearly the same speed and begins to make his way towards you as well.

You don't get very far until you start coughing even more. It's a deep and wet cough that leaves you gasping for air but it continues on.

Then you vomit.

Wild sprint towards you then and helps hold whatever hair he can get to back and away from your face. Twilight is right next to him suddenly and he's rubbing circles on your back while you cry and continue to retch.

A few minutes pass but they feel like an eternity to Wild. He looks over to Twilight and grimaces. "Was it something they ate?"

Because if it was then this is on him. And he doesn't like the thought of causing you any sort of discomfort. Let alone getting you sick.

Twilight only shrugs and helps you stand straighter when you're done throwing up everything that you had eaten the day prior.

You're crying, whimpering and hugging yourself but Wild doubts that you're really aware of what's happening.

He places a hand on your forehead and gasps in shock.

You are absolutely burning up.

"You're sick." His eyebrows furrow and he begins to hold you steady when Twilight leaves you to him.

"...I don't feel good." You reply, but you haven't looked at him. You're eyes are still half lidded and it leads him to believe that you're still somewhat asleep.

"Ok. We'll help you, ok?" He says as he begins to lead you back to your bed roll.

" 'm cold." You say as you move back to where you were sleeping before. "An' everythin' hurts."

"I know. We'll make it better, I promise."

Twilight appears out of nowhere with his wolf pelt and places it over you, helping Wild get you back into your spot and tucks you in.

"Guess we'll stay here tomorrow as well." Twilight mutters. "No use pushing them any further, not like this."

"How long-?" Wild begins to ask but he doesn't know if that's even a question that can be answered. He tries anyway. "How long have they been sick?"

"They were a little weird yesterday..." Twilight admits. "But I didn't think much about it."

"What? Why?" Wild turns to his friend, brother, mentor. "Why not call them out on it? If they're sick-"

"I wasn't sure if I was just seeing things. We're all a little weird from time to time. I can smell a lot but this is always a toss up." Twilight glares a little as he defends himself.

"What do we do then?"

"We do what we can." Time answers from beyond the fire pit. "Some of us can make a supply run to the nearby town we were going to stop at. Get something to help that fever and maybe some tea to help that cough. Being at the town would be the better solution, seeing as the outdoors are not exactly illness friendly but the terrain isn't worth hauling them over. It might even do more damage."

Twilight nods in agreement and stands. "I can take a few of the boys and make a supply run. Get some more things that we might being running low on."

"Got any ideas of who to take?"

"Warrior, Legend and Four. They know the best way around merchants and quality buys. I say they're our best bet for the good stuff."

"I'll pay." Wild pipes up, reaching just beyond your bed roll into his for his sheikah slate.

"Cub, that's not necessary-"

"I'm paying." He growls and takes out a good amount of yellow rupees. "They need medicine. Medicine that we don't have and we can't afford their fever to get any worse."

He all but shoves the cash into Twi's arms and leaves it at that.

Time and Twilight share a look but neither comment on the aggressiveness of it.

There's not a lot of words to be spoken after that. Time takes the first watch and Twilight goes to sleep with a call to wake him up if anything happens. To you or to the group, Wild doesn't know. Knowing Twilight, maybe he means both.

Wild has trouble sleeping and has trouble forcing himself to leave your side.

After much deliberation, a long study of your pained face even as you sleep, he gets up and fixes the fire.

Time simply watches and lets him mess around as he pleases, so long as he's quiet.

Wild doesn't pay attention to him and gets his slate out for the ingredients he's looking for.

He starts by making tea. Honey, lemon bark, ginger, all for the your cough but he hopes that it'll help your fever as well.

When the tea sits and begins to steep, he takes out more cooking supplies and begins to cook more meals for you. All light and mostly fluid. It's a lot of soup.

He can't bring himself to sleep when you might need someone by your side again.

They were lucky the first time that some of them were still awake.

The shifts changes out without his notice. Wild is too busy filling up the inventory that he has with meals that are intended to help you fight this infection.

Day light comes and those who missed it learn of the prior nights events, the plan and get ready to carry it out.

Wild makes a belated breakfast when he realizes that most of the group is awake.

They're all staring at him but he shakes it off.

His highest priority right now is helping you come out of this stronger than before.

He's your personal nurse for the day and until you get better.

The others don't try to fight him on this. They couldn’t even if they tried.

Legend

Legend takes a minute to pause from firing his magic rod. The magic in it leaves him feeling a little drained from the amount of shots he’s been taking but the monsters are thinning out, so he continues plowing forward.

He leaves a particularly nasty looking thing, from an era he doesn’t recognize, as a pile of sloppy purple gluck on the ground.

When he looks up, his heart stops in his throat.

You’re right in front of him, fighting one of the biggest moblins on the scene, alone.

You’re trying to keep yourself on your feet and do some damage to the beast in the process but the blood comes back black, staining your sword and ground around you.

You’re fighting a losing battle.

He makes a run for it and fires what he can at the monster’s back until he’s completely tapped out of his magic.

He switches for his sword and activates his Pegasus Boots, charging directly into the monster’s side, plunging the blade deep within the creature up to the hilt.

“Hey Legend. Fancy meeting you here.” You grit out and slash what you can at the beast.

“Sorry, I should have told you I’m known for being fashionably late.” He fires back and attempts to take back his weapon.

His sword gets stuck on something within the monster and he’s forced to leave it in. The moblin has since been made aware of arriving company and takes a swing that would have taken Legend’s head off. He’s quick to duck under it and he calls out to the others for back up. “THIS ONE’S INFECTED! A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE!”

“What a concept.” You gasp, out of breath and losing steam. “Back up would have been great like five minutes ago.”

“Well I’m here now, aren’t I?” Legend knows he’s quick on his feet and dances around the monster and to your side.

But it’s a miscalculation.

The moblins takes another swing at Legend in the process but since he doesn’t hit his target, his arm arcs outwards and knocks you finally off of your feet and sends you flying across the field with a sickening crack.

Legend stops for a second in shock and stares at where you landed.

You’re not getting up.

Now Legend is the one fighting this thing alone, with his sword still in the side of the monster, back up still not arriving yet and worse yet, the group is now down a number.

He doesn’t have time to reflect how it might be his fault that you’re down.

He hopes you’re not out and that the others comes quickly.

There’s a shot that takes the moblin by surprise when it’s imbedded in his head. Legend can’t risk taking glances around anymore but the quick succession of the blows let him know that Wild has appeared from out of the wood work and has joined him in taking this thing out.

Legend makes around circle around it and reaches for the hilt of his sword. IT”s wet and covered in its blood but he manages to get a grip on it.

He pulls.

He knows that it would have taken a lot to take it out but the blood around it seems to have lubricated the wound and it begins to slide out. As it inches out, Legend has to take another dive out of the way since the moblin swings back his way.

The sword is no longer plugging most of the wound, so it’s more like a fountain of ink that beginning to paint the forest floor.

Legend suspects that he hit something vital and that the blow would be final if he can get the rest of his sword out.

Luckily, despite the lack of communication, Wild and Legend seem to reach a consensus. Wild distracts the moblin for a while and Legend goes for his sword and takes out as much as he can before the moblin takes his aggression out on him.

Somewhere in the middle of this Warrior has also appeared and begins to add to the distraction while using Legend’s fire rod. This allows Legend to get more time out of the small windows that his team is buying them but the progress if slower than he likes.

The blood on his hands makes it harder for him to get a grip on his sword and his boots are having a hard time gaining purchase on the ground as it turns to bloodied mud.

Legend makes another dive out of the way and glances over to where you are.

You’re still not moving and no one has reached you yet.

Concern fuels him forward and he makes one last attempt to pull the sword free while the other damage it as much as they can.

It releases.

Legend goes flying backward and onto the ground, making quick work of getting back to his feet and attacking the beast.

The blood around his hands and sword are beginning to dry, almost gluing them together this time as he fights and he fights.

Somewhere along the lines of this, the news of an infected monsters reaching the others, Legend assumes, and one by one the others clamor up to the monster and begin to strike it down.

Now with all of them here, Legend takes a step back and steps out of the fray, leaving the killing blow to be dealt by the majority of the group.

Instead, he runs to your side.

Legend drops to his knees by your side and drop his sword somewhere behind him. He’s quick to take out his bag and rummage through it. He takes out a potion just you groan and roll over.

Legend lets out a sigh of relief, and a curse.

The moblin dies somewhere behind him.

“Legend...” You cry out. “Are you dead?”

He has to keep himself from snorting in disbelief. “Of course I’m not dead! It takes a lot more than that to kill me you know.”

His hands are shaking but your eyes are closed so he doesn’t make a show of trying to hide it. Your hands are over where your ribs are, a bit of red seeping through your fingers, but it doesn’t look major considering the amount of time that’s passed.

The potion will take of it.

“Were you not hit? You’re ok?” You ask in delirium, using all the strength you have left to sit up. Legend is quick to help you and places the potion in your lap with the cork off.

“No, it was really just you that took the hit.” Legend sits back and watches you drink it, slowly and robotically. He takes a minute to look over the rest of you and realizes that you don’t actually have a lot of injuries.

Just a few large hits.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” You blurt, eyes wide and potion half drunk, threatening to spill over the lip of it with how you’re holding it. “Are you sure you weren’t hit?”

Legend tilts his head and looks down.

He’s absolutely disgusting.

He knows it shows on his face the minute he sees it but he forces himself not to think about it and instead, looks back at you.

“Believe it or not, none of it is mine.”

You stare for a moment or two longer before slowly returning to drink the potion you were given. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

The comment send even more relief through his system, shutting down the last of his adrenaline and he has to laugh.

Legend has no idea what conclusion you came to but considering the amount of shock and awe on your face by the sight of him, he doesn’t plan on correcting you any time soon.

Part 2 Part 3

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #I headcanon that Wild is a stress cooker #he does it for fun #but when he's stressed #he'll use all the ingredients in his slate and just keeping making meals #i bet he'd be a stress baker as well if he had an oven #Legend's always get so long!!!#I guess he's just easy for me to write #i cut it down to three and the whole post is still ridiculously long #I think I like this splitting it up idea #but I don't know in what order they should be written in #or if that even matters #let me know what you guys think!#feed back always welcome!#even if you hate it

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marbleheavy · 4 years ago

Text

what a surprise! married solangelo headcanons because i can’t be stopped! pt 4 (i think?)

- will wants a pet so badly but nico is afraid because of his ~death aura~

- but nico is soft for will so he agrees to try

- they go to a shelter and it’s kinda awful because all the animals are afraid of nico and he feels bad

- but will is holding his hand and they keep going

- and they find a cat!! a beautiful little (actually kinda large) man with orange fur and a very puffy tail who is so grumpy and apathetic that he just glances at nico and doesn’t move at all

- will is in love with the cat immediately and starts cooing and petting him, the cat accepts all the attention but remains stoic lmao

- will picks up the cat (who weighs more than he thought) and holds him like a baby

- when the shelter employee comes to ask if they want to adopt him, will nods immediately and just dumps the cat into nico’s arms

- nico is a bit alarmed and holding a somewhat disgruntled cat but the cat isn’t shying away from him and okay, yeah, maybe nico (really, really) likes the cat too

- when they are leaving the shelter with the cat, nico asks will what he want to name him and will does not skip a beat and just says “oh, his name is spoons”

- and nico is just like “what? did you just say spoons? like the plural of a utensil?”

- and will just nods and gets in the car

- now they have a cat named spoons

- whenever people come over, will picks up spoons and makes the person shake his paw as he says “this is our son, spoons”

- it makes nico laugh but also his brain is just constantly ‘holy shit i love him, i love him, i adore him’

- movie night cuddling but with spoons either at their feet or on nico’s back (who is laying on top of will)

- will takes every opportunity to talk to his classmates about his family and it’s always along the lines of “my husband and my son”

- and people are so confused: “you are married?? you have a child???”

- and will just smiles and nods and says “yes, my husband’s name is nico and my son’s name is spoons”

- “you named your child spoons?”

- “yes! oh,” will realizes he should probably disclose that it’s a cat, “uh, he is a cat”

- nico also likes to talk about his family but he’s a little less social in his classes and when he does talk to people beyond small talk and greetings, he very casually just drops information

- someone will talk about going to see the new star wars movie and nico will just go “oh cool, my husband and i are going to see that this weekend”

- confusion again! but nico secretly enjoys getting to answer all the subsequent questions about will because he loves talking about him

- sometimes one of them waits outside the other’s class so they can walk home together and people are consistently shocked (“that’s will? your husband?” and “really? you’re nico?”)

- it makes nico a little huffy occasionally but will always takes it in stride (and sometimes he’ll intertwines their fingers and that makes nico’s stomach flutter)

- i also feel like they definitely get a lizard at some point and will tries to take it on walks

- the lizard walks do not last long

- also they’re definitely the couple that has ~a show~ they watch together and it’s either Game of Thrones or Avatar: The Last Airbender

- one time, will is gone for a couple days and nico, as much as he appreciates his occasional alone time, is kinda stir crazy and he misses his husband and then he watches like three episodes of their show without will

- will gets back and is immediately like “let’s watch the show and cuddle!”

- and nico really does try to pretend that he doesn’t know what’s gonna happen but will figures out that he watched it without him very quickly

- utter betrayal

- will’s face just falls and nico feels so bad and immediately starts apologizing and pressing kisses all over his husband’s face

- will continues to pout, even though he isn’t actually that upset at all, because he thinks nico is so cute as he tries to make it up to him by promising him baked goods and kisses and he tells will he can pick the movie for movie night for the next month

- it’s all a bit dramatic for just watching ahead a bit but neither of them are terribly opposed to some extra affection and spoiling

- will eventually stops pouting and says “i guess i will forgive this judas-level betrayal in exchange for a kiss”

- and nico knows he’s teasing obviously and just raises an eyebrow and is like “did i not just kiss your entire face?”

- will: “irrelevant, that was before i had forgiven you”

- so nico cups will’s jaw and kisses him softly and they’re both smiling the entire time and when they pull away, their noses still brush and their foreheads are pressed together

- nico just mumbles “i missed you”

- “i missed you too”

- and then spoons comes over and wedges himself right between the two of them and it makes them laugh so hard

- small family :)

#solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #pre-med!will solace #solangelo au #solangelo fluff #solangelo headcanon #married solangelo

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cornerficus · 4 years ago

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The Mechanic, 5

Summary: The Mandalorian hires you to travel with him and make repairs to the Razorcrest. Despite being wary of this intimidating warrior at first, you quickly find he is far more reachable than you thought.

Pairing: You x Din (second person POV, (y/n) is not used)

Post season 3. We know Grogu’s name and Din is becoming more comfortable removing his helmet. The Razorcrest has not been vaporized and Din and Grogu Djarin are still together, as god intended

In this chapter: Hand to hand combat lessons, a discussion of names and *fire alarm noises* BED SHARING

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, E

----

“Knowing how to use a blaster is good, but sometimes it’s not going to be an option,” Mando says. “When you were attacked, you didn’t have time to draw a blaster anyway. They came at you from behind.”

You’re standing on spongy moss on a swampy planet. It’s hard to move on, it sucks at your feet slightly, making your movements slow, but you understand the reason for it immediately.

To instruct, Mando wraps his arms around you from behind. “Lift your legs and swing them down, use your body weight to knock me off balance.”

You do as instructed, and you both roll onto the soft moss. You land squarely on top of him, somewhat surprised you were able to knock him over.

“Oh kriff are you okay?” you ask out of instinct.

“I’m fine,” he says pointedly. “Again.”

You practice attacks from behind and from the front.

“You’re small and light so you won’t win against someone bigger and stronger, but you’re faster.”

“So I should run?” you joke.

“Whenever possible, yes,” he says seriously. “But it won’t always be possible.”

You get fairly good at using your slight body weight to shift your attacker’s balance, giving you an opportunity to escape. Fighting with a man in full beskar isn’t easy though. When the two of you topple over, you smash your head on his chestplate.

“Ah kriff, I’m gonna concuss myself on your armor,” you lament.

“You’re right, this isn’t working,” he says and your lizard brain jumps directly to the thought of wrestling Mando without his armor.

Feeling his body against you-- even when encased in armor-- makes warmth gather in your belly. If you could just feel him again, as you did after he fell through the ice... but that’s not the direction his thoughts took. Mando instead finds you a different teacher, unfortunately, and sparring lessons with your pilot cease altogether.

He brings you to a boxing ring, where a large and extremely scary-looking one-eyed alien is shirtless in the ring with his three-fingered hands wrapped.

“Mando!” the alien greets with a friendly joviality that makes him slightly less scary. “Never thought I’d see you again!”

“She wants to learn to fight,” Mando says tipping his helmet down to you.

“I want to learn to defend myself,” you correct. You hadn’t planned on opening your mouth and speaking to this scary alien, but you don’t need to be a boxer. You just want to know how to protect yourself.

Lessons with Techar are surprisingly fun. He brings in some of his other students to spar and you get to test out all the techniques Mando taught you on someone of a more realistic size and weight.

You catch a bloody lip one afternoon though, and the resulting stars in your eyes drop you to the mat.

“Heyo, y’alright little one?” Techar asks, looking down at your prone form. The adrenaline makes you laugh and the dizziness makes you think back to a year ago at Peli’s where every day was the same and you’d already sampled all of the food, seen all the sights, all the people looked the same and you never, not once, felt so much yourself as you do now.

“Let’s call it a day, eh?” Techar says, helping you up once the dizziness has passed. “Imma catch it from Mando for that,” he says, pointing at the blood dripping down your chin.

“Nah,” you say, swiping the back of your hand across your mouth. “This is what I’m here for.”

---

Mando curses softly under his breath when he sees the cut. You’ve cleaned up all the blood, but there’s a bruise forming around the corner of your mouth.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say lightly, and truly you are. You’re more okay than you’ve ever been. But moving your jaw hurts and you wince and gently prod your chin. “Might need a day, though,” you say, trying not to move your jaw too much.

On the Crest, Mando brings you a steaming cup with a straw sticking out of it. You recognize the smell of the ginger tea the shaman on the planet Dolsic taught you for muscle soreness, the recipe jotted in the book Mando’d given you, that you keep stowed on a shelf and consult frequently.

Your laughter makes you wince and you flick at the straw.

“Ready to go?” he asks. Straw between your lips, you nod.

-----

The stars still haven't gotten old, some seven months in to your adventure with the Mandalorian. When doubts or plans or thoughts make it hard to sleep, you sometimes move to the cockpit to sit and look at them. You had no idea Mando knew of your nighttime wanderings, but given the smallness of the ship you share and how observant he always is, you should have figured.

One warm night on planet, he knocks on your cubby door. Before you can ask what's going on, he points upward, then moves to the hatch. You follow, full of delighted curiosity, up the ladder and out on to the top of the Crest. You sit cross-legged next to him. He's wearing his chest armor but no vambraces or helmet. You turn your gaze out and up.

The landscape is flat and vast, the sky so big you feel like you're floating in space. You listen to Mando breathing beside you and the fullest kind of contentment swells inside you, warm and blooming like perpetual springtime. This, you think, this feels right.

Grogu, having been carried up in Mando's arms, crawls over to sit in your lap. It would be the most natural thing in the world to tip your head down onto his shoulder, unobstructed by beskar, feel the heat, the skin of him as you did that day he fell through the ice, so many months ago.

But you don't.

You lay on your back and Mando follows suit. Too reluctant to break the silent companionship, you fall asleep there. The stars are still out when you wake to Mando's voice in your ear, "Come back inside, cyar'ika."

You follow him groggily back down the ladder. You squeeze his forearm in a silent goodnight and go your separate ways to your separate beds and feel, despite the utter happiness glowing like an aura around you, some sadness that you resolutely ignore.

----

"Mando, will you cut my hair?" you ask one day, unable to stand the wiry ends any longer.

His eyes widen in alarm. "No!"

"C’mon, I look like a mangy jagatee," you wheedle.

"No you don't." He looks so scared of this small responsibility that it makes you laugh.

"You have to look at me more than I look at me, I promise it'll be an improvement. Just a little bit off the ends."

"Just a little bit?"

"Yeah, I just need you to make sure it's even in the back. I could do it but it'd be crooked as hell." You shake the shears at him.

"Okay." You sit sideways in the passenger seat with a blanket around your shoulders. He fusses with your hair for a while, and you feel a gentle tugging at the ends, but don’t hear the shears sliding together.

"Are you even doing anything?" you ask, turning to look over your shoulder at him.

"Sit still or it won't be straight," he admonishes, tapping your shoulder. You obey and finally the shears begin to clip.

"There, finished," he says after a few minutes. You run your hand over your hair. The absence of brittle ends makes it feel like silk.

"Thanks. It feels a lot better. I'm gonna have to do you next. You look a bit shaggy," you say, mostly teasing. It surprises you when he agrees readily. He hands you the shears and you trade places.

His hair is curly and surprisingly soft. The warmth of him radiates up to meet you as you stand closely behind him. You're unaccountably nervous of messing up, although you're pretty sure he won't care and you're the only one who sees him without the helmet anyway.

That thought stops you. You're the only one who sees him. An untameable thread of possession uncoils in your belly as you card your fingers into his hair. Mine, it wants to say.

"Are you even doing anything?" he teases.

"Yes," you lie with a scoff. You trim his curls carefully, not taking off too much, because you like the shaggy length in your fingers.

"There, much better," you say, after spending far too long fussing over every strand.

"Thank you," he says, standing.

"I'll clean this up," you offer. "In a couple months, we'll have another haircut day," you tease.

But it isn't three weeks later when he mentions, casually, brushing his gloved hands over the top of his mop of brown curls, "It’s getting long again, isn’t it?"

"Nah," you say, eyeing the ends of his hair hugging around his ears and neck. "It hasn't been that long, we're probably good for a bit."

It isn't until much later, in the dark in your cubby that you really stop to ponder the exchange. How strange, that he has never asked you for a single thing, yet he would ask for an unnecessary haircut. How his breath stopped in his chest when you reached over his shoulder to touch a curl, wrap it around your finger, how his eyes had slid shut for just a moment, how downcast his expression when you denied him.

It would be too telling to give in to a haircut now, so you give in other ways. Touch his vambrace when you pass by, tap his epaulet when you come into the cockpit. Perhaps it isn't what he even wanted, but you hope he sees it for what it is; a bridge, a connection.

----

"We need that kriffing push rod!" you shout. The alarm cuts out halfway through your sentence and your shout rings into the engine room. You have oil dripping down your arm and splattered on your face. You growl in frustration even as Mando calmly hands you a rag. You swipe it over your face angrily.

"We need to earn some credits Mando or the whole thing will--"

"Din," he says.

"What?"

"My name is Din Djarin."

You take a deep breath, feeling like whiplash going from a frustrating repair to this... sudden fullness in your chest.

"Din," you say quietly, enjoying probably far too much the sound of his name rolling off your tongue and the implicit admission of trust in his confession. You pause there, momentarily forgetting to finish your sentence as he looks at you, not rushing you to finish your thought, just looking at you.

He pulls the rag from your hands and steps in closer, swiping the cloth over your cheek, your chin. When he forgets the cloth and swipes his bare thumb over your jawline you're jolted back into your body.

Your voice is incapable of anything but a whisper as you say, "We really need that kriffing push rod, Din."

He smiles, and it's familiar to you, that smile. He's been smiling freely at you for weeks, as easy and comfortable as if he’s been doing it his whole life. It's a little bit crooked and unendingly beautiful.

"We'll get one, then," he says.

You still call him Mando when others are in earshot, or when you want to tease him -- "Come on Mando, let me drive."-- otherwise he's Din. Another thing he's given just to you-- so far as you know-- the honor of knowing and using his name, a powerful thing to be sure.

You want to give something back to him, but he already has your whole life, your future, your heart.

---

After Din helps a city’s government retrieve a kidnapped dignitary, they insist on pampering the two of you and give you rooms in the palace for a night.

The celebration for the return of the dignitary consists of an enormous feast in the palace’s great hall, with music and drinks. Over dinner, you find yourself stuck in conversation with a member of the royal family. If Din were not in your line of sight, sulking at the edge of the room, you’d be more inclined to escape, but instead you wait for the right time to beat a polite retreat and make your way over to Din.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say.

As you walk down the corridor toward your rooms, Din says, “Looked like you were making a friend.” It’s not said with the lightness you’d expect, though, but rather something like petulance.

You pull a face and an exaggerated shudder of disgust. “Blech. He was so obnoxious, talking to me about his bed, of all things. How big and soft it is. Why would I care about his-- oh my gods!” you gasp, as you finally realize why that creep would have been talking to you about his bed.

“Ew, gross! I can’t believe he--”

Din’s laughter cuts you off. You swing at him with half-hearted indignation and he lets the side of your fist connect with his arm. He even does you the kindness of flinching.

Your room is modest but spacious, your bed is the size of your cot at home on the Razorcrest. You rap at the door to Din’s adjoining room and he opens it for you.

You scoff immediately. “Why is your bed so much bigger than mine?” His is easily three times the size of yours.

“Who knows,” he says, turning to remove his helmet and gloves and check on Grogu in the bassinet in the corner, slip him some of the meat he’d pocketed from the feast. “We can switch if you want.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say.

Thinking back on the size of the harem surrounding the royal family at the feast, and the scanty garb of the serving girls, you could venture a guess as to why the dignitary would put Din up in a room with a large bed. But you decide to keep that to yourself.

You pat Grogu on the head and tap Din on the arm to say goodnight. Sleep comes quickly, but it isn’t restful.

You sit up in bed, heart pounding, images from your dream flashing in the darkness. You struggle to orient yourself, but can’t even tell if your eyes are open or not. You must have made a sound, because Din opens your door and pokes his head in.

“Are you okay?”

The sound of his voice helps ground you and you remember where you are. You nod, then realize he probably can’t see you.

“Yeah, just a dream. Couldn’t remember where I was in the dark. I’m okay.”

“Do you want Grogu in here with you?”

Having the little guy to ground you would make you feel a whole lot better, but you look down at your tiny bed and doubt the two of you would fit, even small as he is. Din seems to hear your thoughts as if you’d spoken aloud.

“You two can take my bed,” he says. As your eyes adjust to the darkness you can make out the outline of him in your doorway, blaster in hand, always ready to protect.

“I won’t kick you out of your bed,” you say, rubbing your gritty eyes. The adrenaline from the dream is gone and it’s left you weary again. “I’ll be fi--”

“Come in with me, then,” he says.

This stops your breath in your throat. “Are you--”

“Yes, c’mon.”

You would protest. You’re not a helpless baby, it was just a nightmare.

But instead you stand and follow him. You lay in his bed, backs turned to each other, enough space between you for a whole other person and try to calm your heart.

You’d say thank you or goodnight, but instead you listen to the sound of his even breathing and soon yours matches up with his and sleep pulls you under.

---

You open your eyes in the dusky pre-dawn light and stay very still. You’d rolled in the night to face Din’s side and you see him sitting on the edge of the bed, quietly dressing in his armor.

When he’s finished, he looks over his shoulder at you. It’s difficult to see anything yet in the curtained room, even with the sun threatening to break the horizon, so it takes him a moment to realize your eyes are open.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, voice hushed, like the dawn.

“Where are you going?” you whisper back.

“Check on the ship,” he says, then stands and removes Grogu from his bassinet. Din lays the sleeping child in bed next to you. “Try to get some more sleep,” he says, then quietly dons his helmet and slips out the door.

Without thinking too hard about why, or about the squeezing feeling in your chest, you scoot over to Din’s side of the bed, already cold from his departure, and hug his pillow and his child in to your heart.

---

The concept of names makes you wonder about the word you’ve heard Din call you; cyar’ika. You would wait until you heard him use it again to bring it up, but as soon as the curiosity comes into your head, you can’t shake it.

“What is cyar’ika?” you ask. You are in the passenger seat, feet tucked up under you, eating a bowl of dried fruits. Din is in the pilot seat doing the same. He freezes mid-chew.

“Um... it’s a... it’s mando’a.”

You roll your eyes. “Well yeah, I figured that. But what does it mean?”

“It means...” Din begins slowly, then hedges, “Some words don’t have a direct translation.”

“Oh.”

“It’s like a nickname,” he says offhandedly.

“Okay.”

“You use it to address people who are... close to you.”

“Oh.” You don’t bother trying to hide your smile. “That’s nice.”

This powerful man has chosen to let you into the inner workings of his life. Has let you see him, in ways he probably hasn’t let anyone in a very long time, if ever. It makes your heart feel too big for your body, makes your legs twitchy with the desire to stand and take you closer to him, feel his skin under your fingertips.

“Well,” he grumbles, “you’ve been flying with me for almost a year.”

“So we’re friends then,” you tease, because stewing in a blushing silence in this moment is not an option.

As soon as the words are out, you wish you could steal them back, because while he is the best friend you’ve ever had, friends is the wrong word to describe your relationship somehow. It doesn’t even begin to touch the affection, the intimacy you share.

But you can’t define it, so you second-guess it; maybe it’s all in your head, a product of your wishful heart.

“Yes. Friends,” he says, though he doesn’t look over at you. “Of course.”

---

Who’s more dense, him or her?? I can’t decide

in the next chapter: FOREHEAD TOUCHES

@over300books @remmysbounty @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @starlite41 @stilledimperfections @keeper0fthestars @depresseddarth66 @the-scandalorian

holla at me and I’ll tag you in the next one! <3

#the mandalorian #din x reader #din x oc!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x oc!reader #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fic #there is no plot #straight up fluff #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #din x you #din djarin x you #the mechanic #star wars #star wars imagine

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the-coffee-story · 3 years ago

Text

Rise of the Forest God

Chapter 17 - Professor Tally Winchester

Winchester Hall was a beautiful, dark Victorian mansion á lá Addams Family that rested proudly upon the tallest hill around. The windows, grey with age and dust were tall and skinny and a rusted iron gate, with weathered carvings now indistinguishable rested half swallowed by dirt and uncut blades of long dry grass. The whole thing blended rather well with the crawling forest behind it.

The team was waiting by the gate, curious and giddy with half-numbed nervousness.

"Well, now I'm definitely interested," Walther commented, peeking through the towering, rusted gate. "This looks like it's haunted by at least three ghosts who died a horrible death. They never found the heads."

October laughed.

"Seriously October, imagine the Addams Family's mansion, now scale it down a little."

He raised an eyebrow. "Can't wait for Morticia to pop out."

"Well, Morticia was definitely not on the phone," Violet noted.

Suddenly, the carved, dark-oak door that rested comfortably in the centre of the home's front opened, and a young man peeked out, adjusting his glasses as he took a moment to assess the situation. After a few moments passed, he noticed the team waiting by the gate, waved to wordlessly grab their attention, and quickly scuttled over.

Tally Winchester was a medium-heighted, slender and bald individual with large, wildly blue eyes behind thick glasses and a countless amount of scattered silver piercings dotted in and around his earlobe. Despite the fact that it was it had just dawned early spring, his skin was sunburnt and tanned, as if he spent most of his days somewhere lost outside. He walked with a noticable limp, and Walther didn't need to wait long for an explanation, when a prosthetic briefly appeared between his worn brown converse sneakers and faded jeans.

"Hi!" He flashed a toothy smiled at the group and opened the gate. "Great to see you, I'm Professor Tally Winchester!" He shook everyone's hands as they trickled past. The sleeves of his petrol flannel were rolled up, revealing a rather out-of-place, faded tattoo of a crawling lizard and a bunch of old scars. "You can call me Tally though."

Violet held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Violet, we talked on the phone."

"Great to meet you all!" He grinned. "Are you coming inside?"

***

"Before anyone asks, I inherited the house," Tally explained while leading them upstairs. "It's rotten and I hate it and the bills are a naked horror but I doubt I can find anything that has more capacities for a library." He opened a door. "Intrate, everyone."

"Remarkable," Doc commented.

Remarkable was indeed an understatemt. The room they'd entered was a library- with a beautiful brick fireplace and huge windows that let in the sparse afternoon sun, bookshelves brushed against the webbed ceiling and sunk into every wall. The floor was carpeted, through incredibly uncomfortable to walk on, and the furniture antique. One wall was plastered with photographs and notes.

"Nice," Walther mumbled, taking the second to once again soak in their surroundings.

Tally grinned, idly brushing aside pages and old notes compromised of incomprehensible scribbles and drawings. His teeth were somewhat crooked. "I didn't replace any of the furniture, but I did sell a chunk of the old books. There was just no space for mine." He closed the door behind them. "So anyway, you wanted to know about the cult?"

"There's been a bunch of murders in Forest Lane that were eerily similar to what it did, so yeah." Thasfield shrugged his broad shoulders. "We suspect the cult might be involved."

"Oh, I heard about that on the news!" Tally sorted the files on the table until he found what he was looking for. Then he looked up. His face was serious now. "At this point I'd like to admit I have a slightly selfish motivation in this."

"What is it?", Violet asked.

"You see..." Tally leaned against the table. "For context, I'm a history professor, but my focus is on cryptids and modern legends. Historical context, potential explanations, yada yada. A few years ago I stumbled across the legend of the Forest God."

Walther's face lit up. "Oh, I remember that story, my parents used to tell it to me when I was a kid! This one guy got lost in the woods, was found dead and after his funeral his reanimated corpse came home and his wife who loved him very, very much-" They side-eyed Violet and Coffee, who in turn glared back. "-couldn't accept that maybe it's not exactly normal that your husband's corpse is vibing around, then after a while he started killing people, then he killed her and then the neighbours buried him in an iron casket in the woods so he would stop randomly murdering people. Right?"

"You summed it up." Tally nodded.

"But who believes in that?!" Violet frowned. "I mean... it's just a legend, right? Somebody finally snapped, had a rough week or something, and people straight up believe his bullshit?"

"He came back from the dead and started murdering people, Violet," Doc commented.

She shrugged dismissively. "We've all been there."

"I don't want to meet you after a bad week," Tally remarked with mild discomfort, absentmindedly flipping through pages of notes and nonsense. "The existence of the man who allegedly became the Forest God is proven. His name was Eustace Wyndham and if you ask me he had rabies and some things were added for drama. But that's not even relevant, because the cult came almost a hundred years later." He slid around the table and opened another scattered file. "1969 they started to worship the Forest God. At first it was nothing special, you know, just the average college student nonsense." He held up an old photograph, subtle wonder in his eyes as he stared into it, before handing it to Walther. "Here, you can take a look at this! That's the entire cult. The guy in purple with the long hair is one of the founders. The other founder left in 1970 after getting a bad feeling about the whole thing. I caught him for an interview five years ago. Lovely guy, sadly died of cancer shortly after. It's a shame. You can pass the photo around! Notice how they're all wearing cow parsley wreaths. That was the flower associated with the Forest God and the flower scattered all over their murder victim's body, or rather what was left of it."

"All the victims had cow parsley in their mouth," Doc realized, dragging a hand up to rest in his soft ginger curls, staring blankly into the distance, thinking.

Tally nodded hastily. "Exactly! And now please look at what I found on my windowsill this morning!"

He limped over to the tallboy, half relying on the nearby furniture for support. Leaning down and throwing open a drawer, after a short while of sifting through papers and photographs, he took out something else. Then he held it up.

It was a wreath of cow parsley.

"That's....not good," Walther murmured after a long moment of stunned silence.

Tally nodded, twirling the flowers between his thumb and forefinger. "You get it. You know..." He leaned heavily against a dusty, worn table and heaved a small sigh. "When Wilhelm called me at first I was very sceptical of it all. I'm not a group project person, if you know what I mean. But this is just the tip of the ice berg and I have a feeling that I might be next, so I decided to work with you." He shrugged his shoulders.

While he'd been talking, Coffee had been furiously typing. He handed Tally his phone and Tally read it out loud.

" 'How about we use you as a bait?' Um... Can you...can you please explain what exactly you mean? That doesn't sound particularly safe-!"

He handed Coffee's phone back to him, paranoid he might accidentally drop it, and the detective started typing an answer, this time with significantly more determination.

Hear me out. So my idea was basically that tonight we let the killer come, but were going to be prepared. In other words, we gather a big group that's going to protect you, and we're going to arrest the murderer once he's here. What do you think?

Tally hesitated for a short moment and chewed his lip, opening his mouth to reply, then closing it again.. "I mean... I guess you have a point, sooner or later he's going to get me either way."

"I mean, let's be real, you can't run forever," Thasfield said, leaning forwards. "Even if you move, it's still going to take a while, and judging by what we know you're being pretty actively stalked, so it's quite possible he'll just follow you and then you'll be killed by a Forest God in a hotel room in Central Graytown. Which probably makes for an interesting plotline in a noir film, but we're talking real life here and I highly doubt you're so keen on landing in the morgue anytime soon. Although the Doctor is an expert at autopsies."

Doc smirked.

".........yeah," Tally admitted. He sat down on the table and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, that sounds...icky but realistic." He closed his eyes took a deep breath. "Alright. Who's gonna be on this team?"

Doc's phone's rang loudly to shake up their newfound confidence, and he excused himself, stepping back into the dusty hallway to take the call.

"I mean, most of us for starters," Violet said. "But I was also thinking of grabbing Gary Fox and Wilhelm. Strength in number, you know?"

Doc eventually came back to the group. His weathered face was stricken with subtle anxiety. "Bad news."

"What is it?", Walther asked.

"Alice found her mailman by the stables."

Walther frowned. "Okay, and what's so special about that?"

"His left arm was by the stables. The rest of him was scattered across the field."

"Dear God, is he okay?"

"He's okay, but he's dead." Doc turned to Tally, lowering his voice just enough. "Can we settle on tonight?"

Tally nodded. His sunburnt face had notably paled, turning his skin a somewhat pasty yellow. "Sure. What time are y'all coming?"

"Is five o'clock alright with you?"

Tally shrugged his shoulders. "Sure."

#reviews are welcome ;)#remember to listen to the song #the coffee story #rise of the forest god

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thelordofdarkreunion · 3 years ago

Text

Magnificent Scoundrels- Battle on the Citadel

Shenanigans. Hopefully some cool battle scenes. I will try to have the second part of this story out as soon as possible. Enjoy. “He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright,

He checked off his equipment and made sure his pack was tight;

He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar,

You ain’t gonna jump no more.” -Blood Upon the Risers, paratroopers song

The air swirled as the shuttles touched down. The acrid scent of coolant wafted through the air at the Turian and C-Sec lines in front of the Citadel. Now designated with the unimaginative title “Command Post Alpha,” this was the main spot where shuttles would touch down to disgorge their contents of soldiers ready to take back the Citadel. Engines whined, and hydraulics hissed as various shuttles, bearing their precious cargoes of soldiers and supplies, touched down. Sharp and angular Turian ones, the Omen’s large and boxy troop-carriers, the Normandy’s sleek, yet rectangular ones, the Apocalypse’s heavy gunship carriers, and the distinctive three-winged transports of the Galactic Empire. All these touched down, soldiers disembarking rapidly, and took off immediately to allow the next in line to land.

Shepard, Vir, Quill, Cooper and Drake stood around a portable hologram projector as the various troopers milled around in organized chaos behind them. Captain Viter of the Turian Hierarchy stood off to the side, urgently conversing with someone over his encrypted communications gear.

“So we have the beginnings of a pretty sizable army here. What do we do first?” The question was addressed to Shepard, seeing as he had the most experience with the geography of the Citadel.

“We should probably just do a general push throughout the Citadel to take the entire thing back. Make sure there aren’t any hidden pockets of resistance. We also don’t know who precisely is attacking or why, so we want to make sure there aren’t any hidden plans we’re missing.” Everyone nodded their acceptance to this. Cooper turned and looked back at the groups of milling soldiers.

“First we have to get this mess in order,” he said.

“Oh boy,” muttered Quill sarcastically.

“Okay. How do we do this?” asked Sheaprd, looking at the mixed group.

“Get whoever’s in charge of each group and send them here for a tactical briefing,” suggested Vir.

“Sounds good to me,” replied Drake. “Saul! Garang! Rilgaldis! Over here.” He waved over the commanders of his armsmen. The three marched over, the large lizard-like Rilgaldis wearing a set of ornamented armor, Garang wearing a massive suit of heavy beige and grey power armor, increasing her height by at least four inches, and Saul wearing a suit of black combat armor with strange metal bracing throughout. They nodded at the Scoundrels and rechecked their weapons as the group commanders were called over.

Maverick of the Omen’s marines and Captain Detoi of the Valhallan 597th followed, Maverick wearing a typical urban camouflage patterned suit of combat armor and Detoi wearing an Aquilia emblazoned set of grey-blue flak armor.

A raven-haired woman, wearing an extremely tight, form-fitting black and white suit walked over to converse with Shepard; Vir recognized her voice as that of Miranda Lawson, Shepherd’s Executive Officer. She was followed by Garrus Valkarion, lugging Drake’s gift of an Exitus Rifle. Captain Viter gave him a weird look, then followed him over to the projector.

Gamora appeared behind Quill, startling him. Last to arrive were two figures wearing the white and black armor of the Imperial Stormtroopers and Death Troopers, respectively.

“First off: who are you two?” asked Vir, gesturing to the two latest arrivals.

“You can call me Commander Blaine,” responded the white armored Stormtrooper.

“DT-997731.” Emotionless. Cold, dark, and blank. As a Death Trooper should be. Not making him any friends, though.

“You can all introduce each other when you get in your groups. For now, let’s just get this started,” cut in Drake.

“Fine,” replied Shepard. “Here’s the Citadel,” he said bluntly. “Here’s where we are.” A glowing dot appeared next to the Citadel Tower, located in the center of the massive station. “We need to clear the entire station.” He turned to the rest of the individuals huddled over the projector. “Cooper, you’re fast moving recon. You’ll be by yourself.” Cooper nodded his consent.

“That’s how I operate best.”

“Good. Now…” Shepard paused and looked around, calculating precisely what he would need. “Vir and I will be taking a large strike force up the center area to the Promenade. My ground team, Vir’s Marines, the Drev clan, and both sets of Imperials; Galactic Empire and Imperium of Man will be coming with us. We get there, take out what is likely to be one of the largest groups of resistance, then split up as necessary. Quill and Drake will be taking their own selected teams the other way. Understood?” A chorus of affirmations greeted his words. “Good.”

“I’m picking my team,” interjected Drake. “Second and Third squads of my armsmen are going with Shepard and Vir. First squad with me. Oliver, Mark, and Muelka with me. Kraiker with them.” Cooper and Vir glanced at each other as Drake got a sudden malicious gleam in his eyes. He broke off from the group around the projector and went through the various huddled soldiers, and started to select specific individuals.

“You and your team.” Captain Federer, the 597th demolitions officer and his squad of engineers dutifully followed.

“You.” A short woman, covered in tattoos and wearing nothing except pants and two carefully placed straps over her chest stepped out from Shepherd's ground team. Shepard gave an apprehensive glance to Drake, who was grinning maniacally at this point.

“You.” An older man with battle-scarred armor from Shepard’s team.

“You and you.” Ramirez and Maverick from Vir’s marines. Vir had a very good idea what Drake was doing.

“Aaaannd… you.” Rocket Raccoon from Quill’s team. Drake turned back to the other Scoundrels at the projector. “Okay! I’m good to go.”

“I recommend staying outside a general kilometer radius from that particular team,” muttered Vir.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to blow up the Citadel,” Shepard deadpanned. Drake shrugged.

“Times change.” He wheeled around and gestured for his team to follow. “Come my glorious minions! Explosions, violence, and general tomfoolery are to be had by all!” Quill shook his head as Drake’s team filed out.

“He’s taking my guys so I’ll take his. His Second squad and Captain Viter’s Turians are with me. C’mon. I have no plan, so we’re just winging it. As per frickin’ usual.” Viter shot Shepard and Vir a quick apprehensive look before being dragged away by Quill.

Cooper gave a nod to the two remaining Scoundrels, before pulling on his helmet and jogging towards the area of attack.

Shepard and Vir looked at each other again, somewhat lost.

“Okay then,” muttered Vir. “Blaine! Detoi! Get over here! Let’s go!”

Approximately Five Minutes Later

Shepard ducked and dodged as fire spilt upon his kinetic barriers. He rolled, then tucked forward as a grenade went off behind him. Two Valhallans were tossed in the air, screaming. A combat medic slid up to them and started to tend their pulverised legs as bullets whizzed through the air.

Kinetic barriers. Very useful devices. They had kept him alive through many a firefight, blocking shrapnel and shell alike. He grimaced as a Death Trooper let loose with a fully-automatic barrage of blaster fire. A Cerberus trooper across the massive open gardens area screamed as he died, his torso filled with burning holes. Too bad kinetic barriers wouldn’t stop energy weapons.

Not that he particularly minded in this instance, he thought as he unslung Drake’s gift of a plasma gun. He let loose a stream of molten plasma bolts, melting away a group of traitor C-Sec agents along with their cover.

He sprinted forward, then slid into a crater next to Vir and Detoi. The wreck of an ATLAS mech stood nearby, the very thing that had caused the massive dent in the Citadel before being brought down by armored piercing missiles. Shepard had originally thought the mechs to be exceptionally large and terrifying; one of the few two legged things that actually frightened him. That was before he’d seen Cooper’s much bigger and heavily-armed Titan in combat. Still, they were nevertheless powerful, and one of the reasons the assault on this massive hotel had bogged down in the gardens in front.

Vir poked his head over the edge of the creator and fired his rifle indiscriminately at the machine gun positions located on the hotel’s second floor. Detoi was busy chattering on a bulky radio set with an unknown party.

“Last time I was in a war this intense it was just a bunch of bugs,” grumbled Vir. “They didn’t put up machine gun positions like this.” The three occupants of the crater flinched as an ATLAS mech heavy cannon tore up the ground only meters from their position. “Damn. They didn’t have those, either.” Detoi hung up his radio receiver.

“We aren’t going to be able to push through this without armor or air support. I talked to Cain and Cooper. We’re getting Titan and Scion support. They also talked to one of the diplomats, apparently, and-” the ground shook as the heavy mech took a rocket directly to the engine compartment and blew up with a six meter high fireball. “-shit. Anyway. There are drop troopers coming in behind the hotel to cut off their retreat. So we just huddle down here, and wait for the right moment.”

Above the Citadel

The incessant drone of gunship engines whined in the background as the elite soldiers of the Tempestus Scions checked each others’ weapons and grav-chutes one last time. They stood against the grey metal interior of the back of the craft, ready and waiting for the ramp to deploy. Deep, midnight blue armor covered their bodies and faces. Red helmet lenses glowed menacingly in dim interior lighting.

“One minute!” came the pilot’s voice over the intercom. One of the Scions, armor much more ornate than his fellows, stepped to the side.

“This is a hot drop onto a centrifugal-force gravitational space station,” he shouted over the engines’ racket. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, though, because you’re the best. All hostiles are to be purged. No non-hostile xenos are to be harmed. Inquisitors’ orders. Elimination protocols sanctioned. The Emperor protects.” He gave a nod to his squad.

“The Emperor protects!” replied a gravelly chorus.

“Fifteen seconds!” came the pilot’s voice once more. The Scions shuffled forward in the dim lighting, looking at a single glowing red light on the near the end of the space. The ramp at the end of the gunship lowered, allowing the group inside to see outside, onto the arms and artificial sky of the Citadel. At the very edges of the view were the other Valkyrie gunships of the squadron, deploying the full contingent of the Watch Eternal’s Scions onto the Citadel.

“Three! Two! One!” The red light turned green. The two closest to the ramp took two steps and launched themselves into space, followed by the rest of the squad, then their commander.

It should be noted that grav-dropping into a hot LZ is against the laws of common sense and warfare. It should also be noted that Tempestus Scions don’t care what filthy xenos or heretics think.

Aboard the UNSC Fifth Winter

Clean black surfaces glimmered with the blue and white lighting common aboard UNSC starships. Groups of soldiers, wearing green combat armor, chose, checked, and looked over weapons from a huge, hallway-spanning armory. Some made jokes to each other, others complained over the fact that they were deploying in what was supposed to be a comfortable diplomat protection detail.

Quiet footsteps sounded as the groups of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers were called to their pods. They strode over the black grated metal walkways to banks of sleek drop pods. Clambering in, they pulled down metal restraints and strapped themselves in.

Small screens on the sides of the pods lit up with the images of two blank helmeted ODST’s.

“We are dropping in behind the hotel shown in the briefing. We are to stop any hostile forces from escaping. Make sure you don’t fire on any friendlies,” came the curt voice of the ODST commander.

Heavy claws roasted the pods into position. Through the front windows, the troopers inside could see down to the Citadel. The black void of space mixed with the blue of the massive station’s artificial sky. No problem. This is what they all trained for. It was in the name.

“Ready for drop. Three. Two. One. Drop.” The pods were fired from the carrier, and the ODST’s began their descent to the surface of the station.

On the Citadel

“These guys are fucking insane!” exclaimed Shepard. Throughout the battlefield, the firing did not abate, but Vir was sure people on both sides would be looking to the sky. Shepard pointed at the Imperial gunships, spilling troopers out of them. “They’re doing a sub-orbital drop onto a space station with centrifugally-generated gravity!” he continued. Some part of Vir had to agree.

However, the vast majority of the esteemed Admiral Adam Vir was almost squealing with delight. He was leading Imperial Stormtroopers, for God’s sake. From Star Wars. A childhood dream come true. Then there were the reinforcements. He looked up again. The meteor-like streaks of ODST drop pods and the contrails of Valkyrie gunships shone clearly against the sky. He knew about the Halo video games. Hell, there were copies of a lot of old Earth games in the Omen’s recreation room, Halo included. So, while he was inclined to agree that this was fucking insane, it was also fucking awesome.

“And those guys,” this was accompanied by a finger pointing to the drop pod streaks, “Are doing a full orbital drop.”

“They know what they’re doing,” said Detoi, though he looked apprehensive.

“They’re insane,” repeated Shepard. “Too bad I’m not up there with them.” Shepard grinned over to Vir. “Oh, man! Can you imagine that? N7 Special Forces doing an orbital insertion like that? You pilot, we drop?” Vir grinned back.

“Sounds like we have something to do after this mess is over.” He was cut from his thoughts by Detoi.

“I’m no expert, but they’re… cutting it kind of close, aren’t they?” Sure enough, the Scions were still in arms-outstretched free fall much lower than they should be.

“Yeah, they are,” muttered Vir. He couldn’t do anything about that other than just watch and hope the Scions truly did know what they were doing.

The falling troopers started to approach the height of the tallest buildings on the Citadel, and, just as Vir was certain they had judged it too late, the Scions flipped from belly forward, arms-outstretched postures to feet first. Blue jets appeared on their packs, and their descent abruptly slowed. The ODST’s drop pods started to jink and thrust, avoiding ground fire and coming into a perfect trajectory to crash behind the back of the hotel.

Ignoring the heavy weapons chattering over their heads, the Scions hit the ground hard. They rolled forward, and immediately started a pattern of fire-and-advance. Reddish orange lasers flew through the air, impacting against the architecture of the hotel. Vir moved up in the crater, but Detoi held out a hand to stop him.

“Wait one. We have heavy armor support incoming. Then we’ll crack this place open like an egg.”

Question: What is a grav-chute? A grav-chute is basically like a jetpack, except instead of boosting someone up against gravity, it merely slows someone’s descent into safe levels.

And, that’s that. If you have any comments, criticisms, questions, requests, or concerns, feel free to contact me. Enjoy your day.

#magnificent scoundrels #crossover #writing #my writing #mass effect #warhammer 40k #halo odst #star wars

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banalbones · 5 years ago

Text

The Petite Prince: Chapter 5

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8

Chapter 5: The Treasure Hunt, Part 2

Summary: Roman is a child. Virgil and Logan lost him, and have been questing to find him for way too long. Remus loves his bro, but is feeling a bit more chaotic.

Words: 2485

Ships: Familial prinxiety, logince and Creativitwins. Eventual familial royality, roceit and DRLAMP

Genre: Fluff with a side dose of angst

Warnings: A few swears, tiny blood mention, arguing, a mention of being unconscious, a dragon, falling, tell me if there’s any more!

Taglist: @pricklyfish777 @sunflowerblondeuwu @itriedandimtired @draw-your-perfect-world @cemmy @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @nonbinary-lizard-2

_________________________

The ‘twins’ were doing karaoke with the birds.

“Love is an open doo-oo-oor!”

The song was perfect for the pair, an adorable ‘love’ song for Roman, and a Disney villain tune for Remus.

Roman was grinning madly, his gap tooth showing, as his sweet little child voice perfectly nailed all of the notes.

“You’re really good at this,” Remus commented, taking a break from the song. “But Elphaba’s better.”

Cue the *o f f e n d e d p r i n c e y n o i s e s*.

“She’s a bi- she’s a bird! How can she be b- be better?”

Remus cackled. Annoying his brother was fun, even when he was a child.

He probably shouldn’t be thinking that, but still.

Quoting Virgil, sometimes I just gotta be me-an.

The smol one wacked his leg with the stick.

(Remus truly didn’t know how he kept getting it.)

“You know,” he said, “We could decorate the stick.”

That was a thing kids did right? Decorating sticks?

Apparently it was, as Roman squealed in delight and jumped around, whilst simultaneously summoning paint and glitter and smaller sticks and a whole lot of other stuff Remus didn’t bother to acknowledge.

I would have just gotten blood.

_________________________

“Are we supposed to climb this thing?” Virgil asked incredulously.

Logan wasn’t looking at the tower, so much as the dragon. It had shimmering scales, the color of the sea, covering the entirety of its lithe body, with accents of a bright gold littered throughout. The sunset colored wings however, were the things that stuck out most.

The dragon was quite beautiful and had cool wings, in an abbreviated sentence.

It also appeared to be asleep, which was definitely a pro in this situation of cons.

“If we wish to retrieve Roman, I believe so.”

“Well, fuck.”

_________________________

Virgil for all his faults, was loyal. Or so he told himself. Janus (?!?!), when the emo was still a part of the Others, had told him that dark sides were extremely protective of what they deem to be theirs.

So he supposed it made sense that he, the literal embodiment of anxiety, was about to climb a fifty foot tower with no safety precautions, just to save the little prince.

He turned to Logan and grinned sheepishly.

“So, uh, do you want to start?”

Just because Virgil was going to do it, didn’t mean he had to go first.

_________________________

The Dragon Witch smirked slightly as she rested her scaled head atop the tower’s black roof, gazing down at the two sides.

Looked like it was time to drop the ladder.

_________________________

Logan rolled his eyes at Virgil and began to reach for the tower, not sure what he was actually going to do when he touched it, when suddenly a pile of pili fell on his head.

“What the heck?”

The sub-astute teacher looked up to see… a rope of hair?

What?

“It’s like in Tangled!” Virgil said, somewhat excitedly.

“The Disney movie?”

“The Disney movie.” Virgil nodded.

“So what do we do, climb it?”

“I mean I guess,” The Supreme Dark Overlord of Negative Commerce (That’s a throwback) paused, “Because I don’t see any stairs.”

Logan, once again, rolled his eyes.

Might as well start climbing.

And so he did.

_________________________

Roman watched LoLo begin to climb through the fly-eyes. It seemed so fun!

Maybe he could do that one day…

If Remus would let him.

Roman giggled.

He probably would.

_________________________

Remus had wanted to add a thorn bush at the bottom of the tower, to be true to the original, ya know? But the smol one hadn’t wanted them to get hurt.

Again.

So instead, he had come up with an ingenious compromise that Logan would have been proud of.

Put vines at the bottom, but make them look like thorns!

It would be so funny to see Virgil panic and try even harder not to fall, especially with the armor-

Oh yeah!

“RoRo, do you want to give them the armor now?”

The little prince nodded enthusiastically, his face scrunching up in concentration.

And then…

“I did it!”

Little did the prince know that Remus had done a slight flick of the wrist, ensuring that the metal protection would… weigh them down.

He may be my brother, and I still love and will protect him at all costs, but I am always a chaotic rat man.

_________________________

I can’t believe you acknowledged that you were a chaotic rat man.

I can.

_________________________

Patton hummed softly, twirling around as he made the brownies.

He had tried checking on Roman in his room, but the princely side hadn’t answered.

So, he decided to make brownies to give to Roman when he felt like he could talk to him again!

If he ever felt like he could…

Patton shook his head quickly, dismissing the thought.

He would! It was Roman, after all!

Patton swallowed.

It was Roman, after all…

_________________________

Logan was halfway up the tower (and the hair) when he felt a weight be placed on his body. A very heavy weight.

The logical side was now extremely glad he had made Virgil stay on the ground.

Gravity tugged a little too hard on Logan for his own liking, and then he was falling.

And falling.

And f

Into a pile of thornbushes?

Logan inwardly groaned. It was like in the Grimm Brother’s version of the fairytale.

The prince fell into a bunch of thorns and got blinded.

I’m already blind enough, come on!

He barely registered Virgil screaming out his name through the rush of air and thoughts.

And then he landed.

________________________

Virgil screamed as Logan fell.

He was gonna die!

Could sides even die?

He didn’t think so, but what if they could?

The emo’s mind was so filled with what ifs, that he barely registered the dumping of heavy metal on his shoulders.

It was like a weighted blanket but five times heavier.

“Oof.” He was pulled to the floor, just as Logan landed… in a pile of thorns?!

How had he not noticed that?

“Holy shit! Logan!”

He heard a groan.

“Ow.”

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief.

At least he was alive.

_________________________

You fell off a tower?!

Yes. I just said that.

How did you survive?

We’re getting to that.

_________________________

The teacher figure groaned as he opened his eyes. He wasn’t blind, and he wasn’t bleeding.

That was a good sign.

It seems I have not, in fact landed in a pile of thorns.

“Holy shit! Logan!”

Logan attempted to move his head. A fall like that could not be good for his neck.

He managed it, if only slightly, to see a raccoon-like side running, well trying to run, towards him.

“Hello, Virgil. Before you ask, no, I do not know how I am alive.”

“Are you-”

“Yes, I am indeed hurt,” Logan interrupted, “I fell twenty five feet, what did you expect?”

“I don’t… whatever. How come you’re wearing armor?”

Logan responded with a dry “You are too,” before craning his neck (ow) to see that he was, in fact, wearing a bunch of bulky metal.

It was very blue. Or indigo, depending on how specific you wanted to be.

“Why is it so heavy?”

“That’s because of Remus,” a very familiar, lilting voice answered, as weapons materialized in the boys hands.

“Oh shit,” he heard Virgil mutter.

Logan looked up (once again, ow) to see the dragon that had been sitting atop the tower flying towards them.

It let out a roar.

To mirror Virgil’s earlier words, oh shit.

_________________________

Roman stood proudly, brandishing his stick for all to see.

By all, he meant Remus and the birds, as they were the only ones left to see it.

(The other forest creatures had to go, they had told Roman, it was almost dinner time for them.)

Apparently, birds had really weird eating schedules.

Big me had a really weird eating schedule too. He only ate during the night.

That, along with the fact big him never slept at night either led to the little prince forming a rather intelligent conclusion.

Big him was nocturnal!

Like an owl!

Wait…

If Big him was nocturnal (or an owl)…

Did that mean ReeRee was too?

…

“ReeRee… are you a- you an owl? Or noc- or noc-tur-nal?”

The Duke turned.

“Also, do yo- do you li-li-li’ my stick? Its glitty-ery!”

The tiny royal’s big brother looked confused.

“No? Why? Your stick is splendiferous, by the way.”

Now it was Roman’s turn to be confused.

(He was happy with the reaction to the stick.)

“Big me is. How co-how come you aren’t?”

Maybe the lack of sleep at night isn’t something that owl’s do.

Oh! Elphaba’s leaving! Byeee!

The petite prince was so caught up in his train of thought that he didn’t see Remus’s concerned gaze.

Bye bye birdies!

_________________________

Virgil stared at the bedazzled dirk in his hand, the onyx gems glinting in the light of the fire.

Wait, fire?

The emo turned to see a large green dragon (?!?!) diving towards him, flames spewing out of its mouth.

A dragon?

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit

“Virgil! Move!” he heard a voice shouting.

But for a moment he was paralyzed.

Then, in a way that was opposite his regular behavior, he let out a battle cry and leapt towards the reptilian rapscallion (Roman would be proud), brandishing his weapon.

The dragon roared as Virgil threw one of his dirks, the sharp metal burying itself in a shimmering teal scale.

No blood emerged.

One weapon wasted.

“What the fuck are you doing, you inbecile? Run!”

For some reason, Virgil decided to ignore the admittedly good advice.

The dragon swiped at the anxious side, knocking him into the hard brick of the tower.

The scaled beast crept forward.

It poked Virgil’s head, slamming it back into the stone.

And then the world was fading to black.

Well, he knew that wasn’t good.

_________________________

Logan shut his eyes, restraining a groan of frustration.

WHY did people (metaphysical people) never listen to him?

Virgil was the smallest of the sides (apart from Roman, at the moment) and though he was fight or flight, the anxious side really didn’t know how to defend himself, especially against dragons. It also didn’t help that he only had a tiny daggers and a leaden suit of armor to protect himself.

Logan took a deep breath.

…

When the logical side’s eyes reopened, he was subjected to the view of Virgil being yeeted (slang words) into the tower.

Virgil was quickly climbing up the idiot list.

Very quickly indeed.

_________________________

Where am I on the list right now?

The same place as you were when this happened.

Where was I?

That is not important.

What? Yes it i-

_________________________

Remus was concerned. Which was weird for him.

What did the smol one mean?

An owl?

Nocturnal?

Was Roman secretly an owl? Or did his twin have a really unhealthy sleep schedule that led to negatively affecting his mood, energy levels and attention span, making him lash out in even the slightest of stressful situations whilst simultaneously causing his metaphysical human being-like health and mental health to deteriorate?

Nah, he was probably an owl.

And with that (most of) Remus’s concern washed away.

His brother was an owl.

_________________________

Roman was watching the battle through the fly-eyes. Well, battle was an over exaggeration. It was really just VeeVee getting smacked into a wall by a dragon (who looked suspiciously like the Dragon Witch Big him had killed a while ago).

The prince looked to where Logan was.

The nerd looked reeeeeally annoyed.

Probably because now he had to defeat the dragon all by himself.

What’s he gonna do?

Roman watched as the logical side got up, a broadsword appearing in his grasp.

The prince summoned a bowl of popcorn.

He should throw it. Mama should definitely throw it.

Logan threw it.

And missed.

The sword didn’t even get near it!

Come ooooon, Mama.

The dragon roared and pounced on Logan, baring its teeth.

Roman leaned forward, a handful of popcorn nearing his mouth.

This was getting good.

A drop of saliva dripped onto Logan’s face…

Aaaaaannd…

He was whisked away from the fly-eyes view by a pair of grimy hands.

“ReeRee! No fair!”

“Sorry RoRo.”

The little prince pouted, and Remus held something out to hi.

“Look I made a stick!”

_________________________

Did it work?

Did what work?

The stick. As a distraction.

It wasn’t a distraction, I just really wanted to show him my stick!

Liesssss.

It was also a distraction.

_________________________

Patton was becoming concerned.

Roman usually would have come out by now.

Maybe he decided to talk to someone else.

But who?

Definitely not Janus, for obvious reasons. Maybe Virgil?

I should check. Just to see if he’s okay.

I’ll bring the brownies.

Just in case…

And so the walk to Virgil’s room began.

_________________________

Do it for the child.

That was the mantra that Logan was repeating in his head.

He truly did not appreciate being carried through the sky in a dragon’s claws, especially since it had caused his glasses to fall off of his face.

For the last time, I’m already blind! Why is it always me?

It also didn’t help that every single part of his body was aching.

_________________________

Do it for the bean.

That was the mantra that would probably have been repeated in Virgil’s head at this moment, if he wasn’t unconscious.

_________________________

Patton frowned.

Virgil wasn’t there.

Maybe Roman and his dark strange son were with Logan!

And so the walk to Logan’s room began.

_________________________

Remus giggled.

RoRo had forgotten about the fly-eyes almost immediately, being too distracted by the glowing stick.

He waved his hand.

A visitor (or two) was about to drop in.

_________________________

Patton furrowed his brows.

Logan wasn’t in his room either.

Were they all together?

Who else could they be with?

Remus?

It was worth a shot.

And so the walk to Remus’s room began.

_________________________

Back in the dragon witch’s claws, a fully healed, very confused Virgil awoke, and Logan felt all of his physical pain disappear, along with the stupid heavy armor.

And then they were thrown through the window of the brick monstrosity,

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

As Patton twisted the door handle,

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

As Virgil and Logan crashed through the floor of the tower,

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

As Remus looked up to see the ceiling falling in,

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

As Patton pushed open the door,

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

As the left brain boys fell into the Duke’s room.

Oh boy.

_________________________

Roman looked up from the stick to see ReeRee grinning like a madman (That’s pretty normal), VeeVee and Mama sprawled on the floor (Yay! Why’s the ceiling broken?), and Da- Patton glancing around the room with a plate of brownies in his hands (ohnohonohonohonohonoh).

The petite prince was feeling slightly overwhelmed.

“Wha?”

_________________________

Thanks for reading this chapter of the Petite Prince!

(And by the way, at the time of the stick distraction, Roman is around five. If you’re confused, don’t be scared to ask.)

Any and all feedback is appreciated!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders sides #tss #the petite prince #baby roman #roman sanders #ts roman #remus sanders #ts remus #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton

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fizzingwizard · 4 years ago

Text

The In Between Times

AO3 link, because why not

So, current events in the Digimon reboot, the kids have 72 hours to fix the power outage in Tokyo before it's a total blackout. Until episode 16, there was a time lag as well, meaning time in the digital world ran faster than in the human world.

But the show is a fast-paced shonen anime so it’s all about action!! and not so much the little moments of downtime and camp-out camaraderie that let us really feel as if time is passing. I miss that.

SO! Since I can't get a job on the writing staff... here’s a fic about What The Kids Did At Night. Didn't think I'd write a fic for this series this early on but the muse does what she will!

Last note: I have no idea how large the time lag is, so I’m just putting in a “night” wherever I feel like one is needed. Three days RL = maybe six in the digital world. Mainly because that’s how many nights I feel like writing about.

- o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - The First Night

Taichi wasn't paying attention to the time until Sora stopped, a hand shading her eyes as she peered at the treetops.

"The sun's getting low," she said.

"I can't see very well," Mimi added, rubbing her arms. It wasn't particularly cold, but Taichi didn't say anything about it.

Instead he looked down at his feet, where his shadow had grown long, getting lost in the tangle of undergrowth on the forest floor. All the ferns and bushes were tinted a reddish-gold. High above, stars studded the purpling sky.

"Should we... find somewhere to sleep?" Sora asked after a beat, something leading in her tone of voice.

He very slowly realized they were waiting for him to say something.

"Uh... sure," he said. "I mean, it's not that dark yet, we could maybe walk another hour or so."

Mimi looked crestfallen. Oh - she had been hoping he'd agree. "My feet hurt!" she whined.

"We could keep going," Sora said. "But don't you think if we wait to stop till it gets darker, it might be hard to see what we're doing? We need to eat, make a fire..."

"I can take care of the fire," Agumon piped in.

"Yeah, fire's no problem for us." Taichi patted the top of his partner's head. Agumon's chest swelled. "So we'll have light, don't worry about that."

Sora still looked uncertain. "I just... would feel better if we didn't push it," she said at last, brow knit. Next to her, Mimi's hands were clasped together, as if in prayer.

This was getting ridiculous.

Taichi shrugged. "Okay, fine with me. Let's stop for now."

Immediately the two girls perked up. "Alright!" Mimi threw her arms in the air.

"We'll be sleeping on the ground outside though," Taichi warned her, expecting her to complain a little. At home Mimi probably slept on two mattresses covered in fluffy blankets, ensconced in plentiful pillows, with a host of stuffed animal attendants. And all of it would be pink.

But she waved away his concern. "Oh, I slept on the ground in the palace Palmon and the Tanemon built for me anyway," she said. Ah... he'd forgotten she'd been here longer than him. (Also, that place counted as a "palace"?) "If you can stack enough of those big leaves and fronds it's pretty comfortable."

"W-Well... cool." He glanced at Sora, but she had already knelt to the ground and was going through her bag of supplies. So apparently they were going to camp right here, then. "Uh, then I'll leave it to you to find the best leaves to sleep on. And Sora, you guys can get started on food?"

Sora nodded without looking up. She'd pulled out a couple bottles of water and some plastic utensils. Piyomon appeared to be trying to carry an entire picnic blanket herself. Taichi thought about mentioning to Sora that she was chewing her lip, like she often did when she was thinking. It was a habit he knew she was trying to kick. Something stopped him though.

Then Agumon plucked his sleeve. "What about me?"

"Warm up your muscles," Taichi grinned down at him. "We're gonna do some heavy labor."

He'd only seen it in pictures in his Scout's Companion Guide to the Wilderness, but a makeshift lean-to didn't seem particularly difficult to figure out. At least, not with a Digimon companion to do most of the work. Taichi helped where he could, dragging logs Agumon found or felled back to their campsite, patting down the foliage until it somewhat resembled a floor. They had some trouble tying the branches off until Mimi and Palmon came back and Palmon's vines made short work of wrapping the rope around the trees. Then it was just a matter of lining the logs up diagonal to the frame they'd made and packing them with leaves. The end result, well, it wasn't very pretty. But it didn't have to be. It just had to work.

"Wow, that looks great, Taichi-san!" Mimi exclaimed, jumping up and down.

Sora hummed in agreement. "It'll be good to have if it rains."

Taichi laughed and decided not to point out it would be totally useless if it rained. They'd be lucky not to get covered in mud if a strong gust of wind knocked it over on them. But the girls were already moving the leaf beds and picnic blanket under the lean-to. Whatever. At least they were happy.

It was dark without question by now, and Taichi felt exhaustion wash over him. Building that contraption had taken more time than he'd thought. Belatedly he realized the others were gathering for the dinner Sora had prepared, probably a while ago. He dragged his tired legs toward the fire Agumon had made and dropped down in front of it like a rock.

Dinner was slices of fruit from the Tanemon village Mimi had in her bag, along with sides of biscuits and wakame rice from Sora's emergency supplies. The biscuits were hard and chalky and the rice watery, but they were all so hungry no one much cared. And the fruit was delicious. The taste was similar to honeydew melon but with a texture like cream cheese. It'd be perfect in a cake, Mimi declared.

After eating they cleaned up, and since everyone was having trouble keeping their eyes open, they wound up going straight to bed. Taichi crawled under the lean-to and kicked off his shoes and socks. Next to him, Sora and Mimi were doing the same.

"I hate sleeping in my clothes," Mimi sighed, picking at her feet. "I wish you had spare pajamas, Sora-san."

"Spare pajamas weren't on the list of emergency supplies," Sora murmured. "But I do want a bath."

A groan. "My feet look like a man's!"

"Aw. Those blisters look painful. You need better hiking shoes."

"Well, it's not like I knew I'd be hiking all over! I wish you could find a plant that makes good skin lotion, Palmon. Like aloe vera."

"What's skin lotion?"

"Hold on, Mimi-chan, I'll get you a bandage."

Taichi listened to the girls' chit-chat lying on his side, facing away. Tired though he was, his mind wouldn't stop whirring. He didn't even know what to think of first. Getting across the ocean. Stopping the blackout. Getting home...

He felt something poke the small of his back. Then Agumon's nostrils sent a puff of warm air over his skin as his partner snuggled up to him.

"Taichi..." Agumon gave a huge yawn. "I'm sleepy."

"Your breath stinks." Reaching around, Taichi pulled Agumon in, and it was better than having an electric blanket. Funny, Agumon looked like some type of cold-blooded lizard, but he gave off heat like a furnace. Agumon's eyes closed. Taichi let his fingers trace feather-light along Agumon's snout, up and over the bridge of his nose. Agumon didn't seem to mind. He was already deep in sleep.

Taichi wasn't even sure how soon he wanted to go home.

---

"Taichi."

Someone was shaking him awake. "Whuh?"

"Your digivice. I think Koushirou-kun's calling you." Taichi blinked bleary eyes until he could make out Sora leaning over him. Her tousled hair was full of sticks and leaves. Some things were inevitable when sleeping in the woods.

It was dark except for the glow of his digivice, which was beeping incessantly. Taichi looked over Sora's shoulder at Mimi, but she seemed still asleep. For that matter, so did Agumon. "Okay, I'm gonna talk to him outside," he said, standing up. (Though their shelter didn't quite qualify as "inside.")

He didn't bother with his socks, stepping right into his shoes and tramping towards the remains of their fire pit. "Koushirou?" He squatted down with his digivice held close to his ear.

"Taichi-san?"

"Hey, it's me. Everything cool?"

"Yes. It's 'cool.' Were you sleeping?"

"Yeah, but no biggie."

"Oh, is it nighttime?"

"Huh, your fancy computer can't tell time?"

Koushirou gave an indignant huff. "First of all, time is a construct. Second, yes it can tell time, but given that the environment here never changes, it's hard for me to keep track."

Taichi frowned. "What d'you mean, the environment never changes?" He picked up a stick, scratching circles in the ashes.

"I mean it's just a never-ending white void."

"Oh, that's what things looked like when I came here the first time. But now we're in some sort of jungle."

"Kabuterimon told me the true digital world is full of trees and plants and even oceans, but I haven't seen any of it yet." Koushirou sounded a bit forlorn, Taichi thought.

"Catch up with us quick. Then you'll see lots. More than you want."

"Will do." He paused. "Well, I guess I should let you go back to sleep. I'm kind of tired too, even if it doesn't feel like night."

"Wait a minute." Taichi's stick hovered in the air. "You still haven't told me the reason you called."

"Huh? O-Oh, I... there was no reason. I just hadn't heard from you in a while so I thought I'd check in."

"Hmm." A grin tugged at his mouth. "Were you bored? Lonely?"

"N-No! A-Anyway, I've got Kabuterimon with me."

"H'llo," boomed a strange voice, which Taichi assumed must belong to Koushirou's partner.

"Hi, Kabu... terimon." Taichi's tongue tripped over the unfamiliar name. "Hey, could you tell Koushirou to take a nap? Even if there aren't any stars where you guys are, human beings still need sleep."

"Taichi-san! I don't need mothering! Wait, you can see stars where you are?"

"Yeah, I told you, it's night and we're in a jungle or something."

"Wow! Do you see any constellations you recognize?"

"Uh..." Although knowing he wouldn't be able to tell one star from another even in his home world, Taichi still craned his neck back to gaze at the stars above. "Not really?"

"Interesting... It sounds as though the digital plane where you are is a facsimile of our world, so I wonder if the stars themselves look the same. That would be singularly impressive, given that the stars are always moving. I wonder which hemisphere they replicate."

"Dunno. Get your butt over here and see for yourself."

"That's the plan," Kabuterimon chuckled. "Koushirou can sleep on my back and leave the flying to me."

Taichi started to agree, but yawned at that exact moment.

"Okay, I get the hint." Koushirou sounded amused. In his mind's eye, Taichi could see the shy smile unfurling on his face. "Talk to you later, Taichi-san."

"Yeah, see you."

He stuffed his digivice back in his pocket and headed back to the shelter, stifling another yawn. He almost tripped over Sora, who was sitting up, arms wrapped around her knees.

"You didn't have to wait up for me," he said as he flopped down on the leaf bed, which was not half as comfortable as Mimi made it sound. Probably needed more fronds.

Sora gave a subdued shake of her head. "What did Koushirou-kun say?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Nothing much. Just wanted to talk, I think."

"Oh." He thought she looked a bit relieved. He couldn't blame her, a call from Koushirou most often meant another update on the increasingly volatile situation back home.

Sora pulled her knees in closer. "Hey Taichi... sorry if I sounded annoyed earlier."

"Huh?" He picked a few twigs out of her hair. "When?"

"When we were deciding if we should stop for the night or not. I just -"

"You were annoyed?" His fingers rubbed together, snapping the twigs into tiny pieces and leaving them in the dirt.

"No, well - not at you, I mean, the situation. But - I thought you might think that I meant you."

"... Huh?"

She gave a soft laugh. Her lip popped out from her teeth, and he hadn't noticed she'd been chewing it again. "You know what, never mind."

"Never mind what?"

"Go to sleep, Taichi." She turned away from him, and that meant she was done talking. He understood body language.

He rolled his eyes though, shifting so that he could tuck Agumon back under his chin. Sora might be basically his best friend, but she was still a girl. Girls were so weird.

He really was tired though, and drifted off without giving it too much more thought.

- o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -

So that’s how the first night went down! Now you know. I’m sure you were wondering. At least my muse is appeased, if nothing else.

#digimon adventure:#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure reboot #taichi yagami #digimon #fizz writes #wow its been a while since i wrote digi fic

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