#i went into white immediately and was leaning toward white-green survivors and even grabbed some green cards

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than coughing

I decided to look up the artist behind the boykisser meme and found this adorable pic!

[kpophours]

Haven

➵ Stray Kids: Jisung x fem. reader / one shot, college AU, frenemies to lovers AU / fluff

➵ warnings: slight cursing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, a teeny tiny bit sexual suggestiveness (nothing explicit)

➵ word count: 6k

It’s not even 8am, and your eyes feel as dry as sandpaper while your head is pounding with a slight migraine. You’re currently getting everything ready for the crowd of caffeine addicts that will soon arrive at the café you work at. It’s way too early to deal with the horde of zombies called students, but you got stuck with the worst shift of the day - starting at 7.30am which, in your opinion, is just inhuman. Stupid Minho and his stupid luck whenever it comes to drawing straws. For some reason, you always end up getting the shortest one. At least you’ll be done with work before most people your age have even made it out of bed. Still, right now you’d give almost everything to be back in your blanket burrito. Earning money is hard and annoying. If you’ve ever wondered if working at a café could ruin the beauty of coffee… the answer is yes. Because capitalism destroys everything, leaving no survivors.  

“Good morning, Y/N!”, your co-worker and the other unlucky one having drawn one of the shorter straws chirps when she enters the café, and you grimace - Sana’s voice is way too cheerful so early in the morning. You only give her a curt nod of your head, not in the mood to talk right now. You’re not really in the mood to do anything, if you’re being honest. Ugh, you hate the morning shift. You’re currently 80% tired, but 20% also tired - you don’t even remember what it’s like to not be tired anymore. College is great! 

Sana doesn’t seem to mind your grumpiness though, being the sweetheart that she simply is, and begins to wipe the counter while humming a cheery song under her breath. It’s only her second week at work, but so far she’s proven to be a better and more reliable part-timer than the last three who had worked here. Jun is usually a nice and caring boss, but he has some strict rules - always be on time, no drinking coffee while you’re working, don’t take more breaks than necessary, and don’t give out free drinks to your friends. The last three part-timers had broken at least one of these rules, so Jun had let them go again. Sana is doing well so far, and you think that Jun has maybe even taken a liking to her - not that you can blame him, she’s not only super nice and a general sunshine, but also incredibly beautiful and funny. You’re always happy whenever you work a shift with her. She’s a student like yourself, and wants to become a kindergarten teacher. You’d never let your children near her though, too scared they’d like her more than you - not that you could actually blame them. “Shall I put on some music?”, Sana asks after she’s finished with wiping everything down, and you just nod, finally being done with prepping the giant coffee machines. Just seconds later, smooth lounge music fills the cozy space of the café, and you inhale deeply. 

Maybe you lied earlier. Capitalism did not destroy coffee for you, you still very much love the scent, taste, and especially the effect of it. You check the time, noticing you still have about 15 minutes left before you have to open the café - meaning you have more than enough time to enjoy a nice cup of coffee with Sana. She immediately agrees to drink a cappuccino with you, and just minutes later, you bask in the fresh scent of grounded coffee beans. Sana sighs deeply after having taken the first sip, and gives you a bright smile. “Heavenly. You truly make the best coffee out of all of us, Y/N!”, she compliments you, and you tilt your head to one side. Thanks to the caffeine in your system, you’re finally ready to talk to her now. “Well, if my academic brilliance proves futile, I can always become the best barista in the world, I guess. And by the way, don’t let Minho hear you say that, or he’ll force you to taste all the coffee he makes, resulting in you overdosing on caffeine. You know what he‘s like.”, you answer, and Sana giggles. “Well, I stand with what I said, and I’ll even say it to his face. He needs to learn that he can’t always be the best at everything.” You raise one eyebrow, lips twitching. “No offense, but I don’t think he’s ever been the best at anything so far, he’s just very good at pretending. He basically invented the phrase “fake it till you make it”.” 

Before Sana can reply, there’s a knock against one of the café’s windows. Surprised, you look up, and groan when you see a familiar face staring back at you. “What is he doing here?!”, you grumble, and place your mug on the counter, not moving a single muscle. But Sana, being her nice and angelic self, is already walking towards the door of the café, and before you can protest, she’s already unlocked it. Jisung jumps over the threshold, sporting a bright grin. He greets Sana with a hug, before sliding his giant headphones off his ears. “Moooorning.”, he says, with at least five Os. You’re already annoyed. You’ve known Jisung for… well. For a long time. Too long, some would say (you, for example). Your moms have been close friends since their own college years, and while they thankfully didn’t move into the same neighborhood, they ended up living quite close to each other. Meaning Jisung had been there for pretty much you entire childhood and teenage years - at every single one of your birthday parties, at most Christmases, and sometimes even at Easter (even though neither of your families really celebrated Easter). You’ve also gone on hiking trips together, and on wildlife expeditions, and on holidays by the seaside… In almost all your memories, there’s Jisung. 

“Ugh, why are you so obsessed with me?”, you whine when he leans over the counter to grab your mug and take a sip of your coffee, “There are literally hundreds of colleges and you had to go choose the one I’m attending?!” He grins, puffing out his stupidly adorable hamster cheeks. “I’d never be so cruel and rid you of my pleasant company, my dearest Y/N.”, he answers, dark eyes sparkling with humor. You just huff and turn around. “The usual?”, you ask in a flat voice, and he hums in confirmation. To say you hate Jisung would be a severe overstatement, you just often strongly... dislike him. And feel annoyed whenever he’s around. Mostly because he’s a walking disaster, who kinda thinks the world revolves around him (you blame him being an only child for that). One of your most vivid and probably also traumatic childhood memories is of your sixth birthday party: you had gotten a brand new, soft green bicycle, falling in love with it as soon as you laid eyes on it. Naturally, you had wanted to take it around the block for a little test drive, but all of the sudden, Jisung had thrown a big tantrum until your mom had made you give him the bike first. And being the clumsy child that he simply was (and kinda still is), he had crashed your beautiful new bike into a tree. The tree had won that battle, the handle bar completely bent, same with the front wheel. So you and your bike had been a very short love story with a tragic ending. Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you. And this instance has only been one of many - Jisung had also accidentally sat on your birthday cake once (till this day, you have no idea how he’d even managed to do that). He had also ruined one of your favorite jumpers by dumping ink all over it, had tipped over the canoe when you’d been happily paddling on a lake one summer day, and had given you a black eye when you went mini golfing for your eleventh birthday.

So Han Jisung has always been - and probably will always be - a walking disaster. Being his friend means you have a “Why is he like that” moment at least five times a day. Your biggest fear at the moment is that he’s accidentally going to sit on your brand new laptop and break it, the one you had been saving up for for over two years. And then you’ll just have to kill him which will probably make his very nice mom very sad. But as the bible clearly states: an eye for an eye, a life for a laptop. Or maybe he’s just going to set your whole apartment on fire - he’s truly a mess inside the kitchen, you sadly know that from experience (note to self: never try to bake cookies with Jisung ever again). Your old dorm kitchen will probably never recover from that one particular incident that ended with half the building having to be evacuated. This is one of the reasons why Jisung hasn’t been at your new place yet. The second one being that you also only just moved into it a few weeks ago. Ever since moving, he’s been pestering you though, asking you to have a movie night with him at your new place. Like you said, he’s kinda obsessed with you. He also literally spends every morning at the café you work at - or well, you just assume it’s every morning. As you’re a part timer, you don’t actually have to work every single morning, but he’s definitely always here when you have drawn one of the short straws again.

You quickly busy yourself with making a flat white for Jisung, his preferred drink of choice, while he continues to chat with Sana. They know each other thanks to a mutual friend of theirs, Chan - he’s one of Jisung’s roommates as well as Sana’s best friend. Everyone on campus knows Chan: he’s on the student council, he plays for the baseball team, and he’s one of the most promising music majors you’ve ever seen (or well, heard), already being scouted by different labels even though he’s not even a senior yet. And he’s also just so nice and down to earth, truly a prime example of a man. Jisung should really take a leaf out of Chan’s book. 

“Here you go.”, you say while sliding Jisung’s finished order his way, taking your own mug out of his hands while doing so. You quickly shake your head when he wants to hand you his credit card, and he shoots you a happy smile. Jun would probably fire you instantly if he knew about this, but not once have you let Jisung pay for his coffee - and you’ve been working here for almost four months now. You try to ignore the way your stomach jolts when Jisung locks eyes with you, but fail miserably. So maybe he has the most beautiful smile in the whole world, and maybe his eyes hold entire galaxies in them, but what about it? It’s not like you even really like him, right?

You turn around and pretend to wipe down the coffee machine, but in reality, you just don’t want to look at Jisung’s cute hamster cheeks anymore, because they just make you want to squish them. And you have a reputation to lose. “Well, I’m off to my lecture now - I hope your day will be pleasant, ladies!”, Jisung finally says, and you turn around, catching him giving you a mock salute and mischievous wink. You just wave at him, while Sana wishes him a good day as well. As soon as the door falls close behind him again, you exhale. You really need to get a grip on yourself.

It’s Friday night, and there’s a party at Jisung’s frat house. At first, you don’t want to go, but your roommate Amber basically drags you with her. You know she’s only going because she has the biggest crush on Chan, and you honestly can’t even blame her - half the girls on campus have a crush on him after all, and at least a third of the guys. But while Amber and Chan are good friends, nothing more has ever been going on between them - not yet, that is. Who knows, maybe tonight’s finally the night.

You’re currently sipping on some stale beer Seungmin - one of Jisung’s roommates - had handed you the second you stepped over the threshold of the frat house, scanning the room for people you know. Amber is off to greet some friends from her architecture class, so you’re on your own for now. Which is fine, you don’t really mind just standing in the corner to observe the other guests, it’s actually highly entertaining. For example, there’s one guy twerking like crazy to some Beyoncé song. You think his name is Kevin and he’s in your calc class. A friend of his is currently hyping him up like crazy, while another one with green dyed hair is clearly wishing he was somewhere entirely else. You honestly can’t blame him, the secondhand-embarrassment way too real. A few seconds later, Sana enters the room with a group of girls, and she happily waves at you as soon as she spots you. You simply return her smile, before continuing to watch Kevin. 

“Enjoying the show?”, someone beside you suddenly asks, and you jump, dumping some of your beer over your shirt. “Oh fuck you!”, you yelp, and turn around to glare at Minho’s shit-eating grin, “You definitely scared me on purpose!” “Fuck... me? Absolutely, just name the time and place, babe.”, he answers, and you smack his chest. “Not even in your wildest dreams, Lee.”, you reply, and narrow your eyes at him. He pouts playfully. “I just think we’d make a really great couple.”, he argues, and you shake your head. “Well, society should be able to limit what some people are allowed to think, then.”, you retort, voice flat, and he ruffles your hair. “You know what I love about you? You’re kinda mean and annoying, but unapologetically so.”, he says, and you raise one eyebrow. “I might be kinda mean and annoying, but at least my lock screen isn’t a selfie.” At this, Minho gasps dramatically, and protectively clutches his phone to his chest. “I mean, I could always change it to one of your selfies, you know?”, he then suggests, making you groan. He’s clearly drunk already or else he wouldn’t be flirting like this. If this sad attempt can even be considered flirting, it’s probably just him being his annoying and arrogant Scorpio self. Minho sighs deeply. “When will you finally accept my eternal love for you, Y/N?”, he asks, and tries to grab one of your hands, but you just smack him again. “Maybe when you finally stop cheating at drawing straws! I have the Monday morning shift again!”, you hiss, and he smirks. “You’ll never know my secret.”, he says smugly, and empties his cup in one single gulp. 

You begin to pout and take a sip from your own cup, eyes wandering towards where Kevin is still throwing it back on the dance floor. “If I ever do something remotely like that, just take me out, and instantly.”, you say, an exasperated expression on your face. “On a date or with a sniper?”, a familiar voice on your other side suddenly asks, and you sigh internally. “Han.”, you greet your favorite frenemy, and Jisung grins while wrapping one arm around your shoulder. “Nice to see you accepted my invite.”, he says, and you quickly duck out of his embrace, trying to ignore your racing heart. Minho just wiggles his eyebrows at you, before flashing you a shit-eating grin and disappearing from view. Traitor. 

“I only came because Amber asked me to.”, you explain, and stand on your tiptoes to look for your friend. Seriously, where did she even go?! It’s been at least 15 minutes since she left you on your own. “You can just admit that you missed my handsome face, you know.”, Jisung says, and you snort. “Yeah, whatever you say, hamster boy.” He groans, ruffling his hair with one hand and making it stand on end. You desperately suppress the need to flatten it again, and quickly take another sip of your beer. “Don’t you get tired of using that old nickname? Plus, my cheeks aren’t as chubby anymore! I have finally lost all my baby fat, the glow up we’ve all been desperately waiting for!”, he says, and you suppress a smile, looking him up and down. “I guess some people would agree that you don’t look bad.”, you finally reply, and ignore the way your heart flutters when he shoots you a wide grin. “Aww, you old softie, I knew you actually liked me.”, he says, lovingly punching your shoulder. You grimace, rubbing the spot he hit - you know he and Chan have started to work out recently, and apparently, Jisung doesn’t know his own strength anymore. “Now don’t get all sappy on me, just because I might have erased your name out of my death note.”, you reply, quickly draining your cup to hide your blush, and mumble something about getting a new drink before basically running away from him. When you enter the kitchen, you exhale deeply. Your hands are shaking, your heart is racing and you know the blush is still very prominent on your cheeks. 

So yeah, maybe you’re kinda a bit in love with Han Jisung. He might be a complete mess, but he’s also funny, hard-working, intelligent and something close to a musical genius. And yeah, maybe you absolutely adore his stupid hamster cheeks, bright smile and beautiful dark chocolate eyes. You close your eyes for a few seconds, groaning internally. You don’t want to be in love with Han Jisung! There is literally no other person you want to be less in love with. Okay, except for Lee Minho, simply because you just couldn’t bring yourself to ever date a Scorpio, no offense. But Han Jisung is at least a close second! 

You can’t even say when you first began to develop these kinds of feelings for him. After graduating high school, you had finally realized how much you’d actually miss Jisung’s constant presence once you had to go off to different colleges. You’re almost embarrassed to admit how your heart had leaped when he told you he’d actually be going to the same college as you. Maybe you had truly just always kind of loved him - him and his weird antics. He’s always been himself, and unapologetically so. In the modern world of snapchat filters, snow apps and facetune, he’s always felt real to you.

You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts, and groan again. After you’ve refilled your red party cup, you drown it in a few gulps, repeating the process a few times. Drowning your feelings might not be the responsible thing to do just now, but well, you’re only in your early twenties, so you still have lots of time to become a more responsible adult in the future.

Half an hour later, you have probably drunk way too much beer and are also still trying to figure out where Amber has gone. So you finally decide to go search for her, noticing that for some reason, the floor seems to tilt a bit with every step you take. “Weeeeird.”, you mumble, squinting your eyes, “That’s new.” Just then, you manage to walk into someone, soaking their entire backside with your beer. The person yelps loudly, before turning around to glare at you. Your brain needs a few seconds to recognizes the handsome face, and when it finally does, you give him a bright smile while slurring “Hyunjiiiiiin.”, squishing his face between your hands. The boy turns from annoyed to alarmed, and pries your hands from his face while narrowing his eyes at you. “Okay, what and how much did you drink, Y/N?!” Your smile gets even wider. “Only the best kind of alcohol, which is a lot!” Hyunjin just groans and begins to look around for someone. “Where is Han when you need him?!” With that, he wraps one arm around your waist to pull you with him and through the crowd. You hold onto him like your life depends on it - and the way the floor is swaying from side to side right now, it truly just might. You make a disgusted sound when your hand touches Hyunjin’s soaked shirt. “You’re wet, do you know that?”, you mumble, head lulling around until Hyunjin gently guides it to rest against his shoulder. “Yeah, surprisingly I do.”, he says, but in your current state, his sarcasm gets totally lost on you. “You should change, it’s freezing outside, and we don’t want you to catch a cold!”, you tell him off, and he groans, half amused, half exasperated. “I promise I will change as soon as I’ve found Han.” 

You raise both eyebrows at that. “Why do you need to find Jisung? Does he have clothes for you?” Just then, Hyunjin seems to find the desired person, sighing in relief. “Hey, Han! I think your girlfriend has had a little bit too much to drink tonight.”, he yells over the music, and you frown. “His girlfriend? Since when does Jisung have a girlfriend?! And why hasn’t he told me about her?! I’m his oldest friend! Like, not old in the sense of actually being old, but in the sense of time spent toge-”, before you can ramble on, Hyunjin basically shoves you into Jisung’s outstretched arms. “Here, she’s your responsibility now! Take her home or whatever. I’m gonna go change.”, he says curtly, before turning around and marching off. You wave at his retreating backside, before you look up at Jisung, who sports a very confused expression. “Uh, what exactly happened?”, he asks, taking in your glossy eyes, flushed cheeks and lopsided smile, “Shit, are you drunk?! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk!” He actually looks amazed, and you can’t help but ruffle his dark hair. It feels silky when it slips through your fingers, and you giggle to yourself. “Nice.”, you murmur, before you glare at him, “So, you have a girlfriend and didn’t tell me about her?! That’s rather rude, you know? We’re friends, after all! The oldest friends ever! I tell you almost everything.” Jisung just blinks a few times, before he shakes his head in disbelief. “Uh, okay, maybe I should bring you home.”, he murmurs, and wraps his arms even tighter around your waist, “Where’s your stuff?” You shrug while snuggling closer to him to bury your face in the crook of his neck. He yelps, and freezes for a few seconds, before he sighs and drags you towards one of the sofas. “Wait here, okay? I’ll be back in a second.”, he murmurs softly, and tugs some of you hair behind your ear. You lean into his touch, and close your eyes while nodding. The last thing you hear is his low chuckle.

Bright sunlight greets you the second you try to open your eyes. You groan and decide it’s better to just close them again. Seeing is overrated anyway, especially when your head is pounding like crazy. Mh, maybe you did drink a little bit too much yesterday.

“Are you alive? Groan once for yes, twice for no.”

You truly love your roommate, but right now, you’re prepared to throw her out the window as her voice cuts through your hazy state like a knife. Still, you manage to groan once.

“Okay, good. There’s water on your bedside table, and some aspirin. Take it.” 

For the second time this morning (or midday, you honestly have no idea what time it is), you try to open your eyes, just a teeny tiny bit. Still half blind, you carefully fumble for said things on your bedside table. After taking the aspirin and drinking some water, you sigh in relief and fall back into your pillows. “You were really out of it yesterday, huh? Any reason for drinking for at least three people?”, Amber asks, her voice laced with quiet humor. You just grumble something unintelligible, and she chuckles. “Do you remember who brought you home?”

You finally turn around to look at her, raising one eyebrow. “... You?”, you guess, and she presses her lips together to try and stifle her shit-eating grin - she fails though. “Nope. I was kinda busy.”, she just answers, a smug expression on her face. You finally manage to sit up, ruffling your messy bed hair. “Busy doing what? Now that I think of it, I remember you were gone from my side the second we stepped foot inside the frat house. Talk about loyalty.” You try not to sound too offended, but while you don’t remember much from last night, you do remember that you spent some time looking for it, but in vain. “Chan.”, Amber just answers, and you squeal - regretting it a split second later when a sharp pain shoots through your head. “Remind me to never make that noise again while I’m nursing a hangover.”, you say, holding your head between your hands, and Amber giggles. “Noted. But yeah, Chan and I… well. Let’s just say we had a good night.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, and you return her grin. “Well, congrats, then! You snatched the Bang Chan, props to you.” Her smile softens, and she sighs dreamily. “He even asked me on a date afterwards. So we’re going out to get some pasta tonight.”, she tells you, and your smile gets even bigger. “I’m so happy for you, Amber. He’s a really great guy, and you deserve a really great guy.”, you say gently, and she nods. “Damn right I do. But speaking of a really great guy - Jisung was actually the one to bring you home last night.”, she explains, grinning smugly when she sees your shocked expression. “He did what now?!”, you ask, not ready to believe her, at least not yet. Amber leans back on her elbows, obviously enjoying this way too much. “Well, after you drank about half the alcohol the boys bought for the party, you decided to give Hyunjin a beer shower, who immediately realized it was definitely time to get you home, so he went searching for Jisung who then brought you to our apartment. No idea what happened after you left the frat house though, I only got to know about this because Hyunjin told Chan who told me.”

You bury your face in your pillow and let out a long, miserable noise. You sound a bit like a dying whale which makes Amber laugh. “Ah, come on, it’s not that bad. You and Jisung are friends after all, I’m sure he saw you drunk lots of times already!”

You shake your head.

“Wait, he hasn’t?!”

“Nope. I very rarely get drunk, and it’s not like Jisung and I are actual friends like that - friends who take care of each other and so on, you know?”, you try to explain, and Amber frowns. “What do you mean? Y/N, you and Jisung have known each other since forever, you hang out constantly, and you always talk about him with endless adoration - well, and a bit of annoyance too, to be fair. But what do you mean you’re not friends “like that”?!” You blink at her, surprise written all over your face. “I don’t talk about him with endless adoration!”, you disagree. Amber just gives you a very long, hard look, and you begin gnawing at your lip. “I… do?”, you ask in a small voice, and she nods. “You talk to him every day, Y/N, and you talk about him even more. It would be annoying if it weren’t also extremely cute.”, she replies, and begins filing her nails, lips twitching while she watches you trying to digest what she’s just told you. “I guess… I should at least message him to thank him for bringing me home.”

“And for tucking you into bed.”

You groan and throw your pillow at Amber. She catches it and laughs. “What, you looked very cozy and all snuggled up when I came home! And I doubt you yourself did that, at least if Hyunjin told the truth about the amount of alcohol you consumed yesterday.”

You look yourself up and down, noticing that you’re not wearing your clothes from last night anymore, but your favorite pj’s, the ones with little succulents on it. “Does this mean…”, you whisper, but shake your head, “Nope, not even going there. I’m way too sleep-deprived and hangover to deal with any of that right now.” Amber grins and shrugs. “Just go ask Jisung, I’m sure he can fill you in on everything.” You groan again, and fall back onto your bed. “I’ll have to take a shower first.”, you mumble, and close your eyes again. “Yes, please do, you reek of stale beer.” And with that, your roommate throws your pillow back at you.

It’s already about to get dark again when you arrive at the frat house, nervously bouncing on your feet for a few seconds before you finally gather the courage to knock on the front door. You quickly stuff your hands back into the pockets of your leather jacket, gnawing at your lower lip while waiting for someone to open the door. Just a few minutes later, Hyunjin’s tired face greets you. He raises both eyebrows when he lays eyes on you, immediately noticing your nervous expression. “Hi.”, you say, and give him a small smile. He leans against the doorframe, and crosses both arms over his chest. “Hi yourself. You actually look less zombie-like than expected.” You roll your eyes. “Thanks, today’s look is inspired by sleep deprivation and a mean hangover. Water and aspirin helped though, or else I could have auditioned for The Walking Dead.”, you grumble, “And uh… Thanks for yesterday, by the way. I’m really sorry about your shirt, I heard I dumped beer all over it.” Hyunjin cracks a smile at that, and shrugs. “Yeah, but it’s fine. The washing machine will take care of that. Wanna come in?”, he asks, and you nod, quickly following him inside the warmth of the parlor. 

Surprisingly, the house looks clean and tidy again - the guys must have spent the entire day getting rid of last night’s mess. You’re actually impressed. “Han is in his room.”, Hyunjin says, before you even have the chance to ask, and you gulp nervously. “O-okay…”, you mumble, and are just about to walk up the stairs, when Hyunjin tugs on your sleeve. You turn around to face him again, expression questioning. The boy gnaws at his lip, looking nervous. “Just… Finally tell him, okay? I’m like, literally begging you.”, he then says, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Tell him what, exactly?”, you inquire, but Hyunjin only gives you an exasperated gaze. “You know exactly what. We’re all tired of you guys pining after each other but not actually doing anything about your feelings. Quick reminder: this is not a cheesy rom-com where you have to wait until one of you guys leaves the country so you can finally declare your love at the airport or some big, stupid gesture like that. Just do it now, in his stuffy frat room and get it over with.” Before you’re able to reply, he gives you a mock salute and retreats into the kitchen. You huff, surprised at the audacity of his words, and turn around to finally go up the stairs and towards Jisung’s room. 

You take in a few deep breaths before knocking on his door, trying to steady yourself. Then, you wait - but after a few seconds have passed and the door has not yet been opened, you simply turn the doorknob and let yourself in. Jisung sits at his desk, giant headphones covering his ears while he hums along to the music he’s listening to. Well, that explains why he didn’t hear you knocking. You quickly cross the room, and tap his shoulder. He screams, and whips around, almost ripping his headphones off in the process. You giggle at his shocked expression, dark eyes almost comically big in his face. “When did you arrive!?”, he almost yells, and you slide the headphones off his ears, brushing some of his hair back while doing so. His eyelids flutter for a few seconds, before he raises one eyebrow. “You don’t look that shitty, which is surprising considering the amount of beer you drank last night.”, he says after looking you up and down, and you defensively cross your arms over your chest. “Wow, thanks. Always the charmer, huh?”, you huff in mock offense, and he grins up at you. “No need to charm when I know your heart is already mine.” You almost choke on your own spit, and beg the blush creeping on your cheeks to just not do that right now. Truly not the time nor place. “I came to thank you, actually. For last night - I heard you were the one to bring me home.”, you finally admit, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. 

Jisung just stares at you for a few seconds, before giving you a soft smile. “Well, yeah. I couldn’t just let anyone take you home - and Amber was kinda busy, I heard.” You nod. “True, I’m glad you didn’t interrupt whatever she was doing. So, uh, yeah, thanks, you’re… a good friend, I guess.” Almost immediately, embarrassment washes over you, and you groan at your own words. Jisung’s lips begin to twitch. “A good friend, huh?”, he repeats and crosses both hands behind his head, still looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face. You blink a few times, before slowly beginning to nod. “Y-yeah…?” “For someone so smart, you’re really fucking oblivious sometimes, you know that?”, Jisung suddenly states, and you huff. “Excuse me?! Who do you call obliv-” But before you can tell him off, he pulls you onto his lap and then, his lips are on yours. You yelp, freezing for a few seconds, before basically melting against him. He hums appreciatively, and wraps both arms around you to pull you even closer towards him, deepening the kiss. You bury your hands in his soft hair, gently tugging on it, and he groans against your lips. You use the chance to slide your tongue into his mouth while his hands wander lower to grab your ass. You shift on top of him, and he moans when you brush against his crotch. 

When you draw back to catch your breaths, you simply stare at each other, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. Then, Jisung begins to smile at you, and your heart flutters. Twenty years of seeing his smile, but you’ll apparently never get used to it. “About fucking time.”, he then murmurs against your lips, voice pleased, and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m not oblivious, by the way! You’re the oblivious one - I never give anyone free coffee, because it could literally cost me my job, and yet you always get a flat white on the house!”, you tell him, and he smirks. “Oh, baby, the oblivious one is definitely you - or do you really think I just happen to have a lecture every morning you got the early shift again?”, he replies, a smug expression on his face. You just stare at him. “You-”, but before you can say anything else, Jisung quickly presses his lips against yours again. You immediately lean into his embrace, and close your eyes, losing yourself to his touch - so familiar, yet also so new and exciting.

Yes, maybe you’ve truly always been in love with Han Jisung - but at least he seems to feel the exact same way. 

[masterlist] | [requests] 

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Barely Alive (Chris Evans) (Pt. 2)

PART 1

Characters: Chris Evans x fem!reader

Summary: A zombie apocalypse happened on earth. You've decided to do something impulsive which will lead you into a life or death situation. But despite that, an unexpected savior came to rescue you and he was far more scared for your life than his. (Part 2)

Warnings: Reader is the same age as Tom Holland, but she's legal. Don't go pointing at me like I've created some sin yo. (Pls don't look at my Sebastian Stan oneshots 18+ hehehe 😅) I've read some rumour about H.C dating a 19 year old back then but I'm not sure if it's true. 😂

Words: 2,800+

A/N: I have no idea why I love writing this. Maybe because I love Resident Evil? Anyways, this is only PART 2 and there's going to be part 3. 😊 FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! 

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi.

Dedicated: @readermia​ @mcuclintasha​ @itsallyscorner​

The drive back took only minutes. Once the truck stopped inside the huge factory, Chris had swiftly scooped you in his arms. People came stalking towards the car, surrounding the truck as known faces came in view. The man who was holding you had his heart beating so fast, too rapid even though he wasn't even running. "Is that--" The other Chris intervened, Chris Pratt to be specific. His green eyes bulged out of his eye sockets as he saw Y/N in his arms, all bloody and weak.

"She needs help!" The latter helplessly worded out, entirely shaken from your bruised form as he quickly strolled towards the part of the factory where there were sets of hospital beds. "Ch-Chris," You finally managed to hush a whisper, it was too faint to hear but Chris was too focused on you and so he heard. "I'm here," he panted, heartbeat thumping so fast. The constant worry unconsciously travelling towards his eyes which began to fill with tears. He was trying not to, so he kept on swallowing the jitters. "I'm not leaving your side," whispered the man who gently dropped you on the soft, white bed.

Your pained moans started to come as you felt his warmth gone in just a flash. You couldn't form a word nor any sentences that everything was starting to hurt again and it was too excruciating to begin with. "It's okay, Y/N. I'm here, everything's going to be just fine," Chris choked, hasty eyes finding someone for help and he saw Zoe came rushing to his side, asking what happened and what was wrong.

"She was ambushed by men, four were killed by her. Yet, Caesar had her on the ropes," he uttered pointedly, biting his lower lip in apprehension. He felt Y/N moan another painful one. Instinctively, he reached out his hand to grab onto her hand that wasn't bruised, caressing the pad of his thumb on top of hers to let her know that he was there for her.

It was obvious that Zoe would've seen it, and she did. But, she'd rather not acknowledge it. Chris wouldn't dare be in love with a girl half his age, plus the fact that she had a boyfriend would he?

"Caesar? Caesar Brown?" Zoe subtly shook her head, maneuvering towards the other side of the bed as she began taking care of Y/N. "He's dead, already dead." The latter swallowed a lump down his throat, peering down at the bruised woman. An ache forming inside his heart that began to fill with dread. "Shot to the head," he said almost straight to the point that it sounded remotely restrained.

"By who?" Zoe inserted a needle that made Y/N silently moan, a tear escaping the sides of her eyes in which Chris immediately wiped.

"Me,"

His sympathetic friend stopped in her tracks as she was grabbing a cotton ball, her back facing him. Well, killing wasn't new to the world especially when they were in a middle of a zombie apocalypse. Though, what was bemusing her was from the moment her friend knew Y/N went east to grab some resupplies, he immediately flew out of the base despite of how many people didn't want to come. Nobody wanted to be with Y/N because there was no possibility that there were no infected. The fact that not even her own boyfriend, 'William' stood by her side when she went on her own was like a death wish or an ambush by the infected.

Nonetheless, to her surprise she was actually ambushed by nasty people.

Chris didn't know a thing about her impulsive plan because he went west with the gang to find more survivors. Once he came back and knew Y/N was all alone grabbing resupplies with no back-up, he went completely berserk as there were hundreds of bad outcomes inside his head that will make him regret living in the world they were in.

Thus, he didn't risk it. He'd rather risk his life just for her. As for Zoe's understanding with how he was acting since a month ago, he was acting strange that even his ex-girlfriend who was with them came to notice.

He was always with Y/N. Where Y/N was, he was also there. When he was asked why he was being too overprotective of her, his answer could always make them nod because it seems like he was telling the truth.

"She's like a baby sister to me. Nothing more, nothing less."  

Yet, his actions tell otherwise.

"Please, Zoe. Please, I need you to help her, please..She's..just...please, help her." Chris begged, washing his face with his hands in frustration as he stared in nothingness. Avoiding the state where Y/N was in, appearing to feel like he was hurting to see her in pain.

He was confused and Zoe knew deep inside it was his heart who was in a puzzle and that was the truth.

"Alright, I'll do my best, Chris."

Days have passed and Y/N still hasn't woken up. Those days that he felt like she was barely alive was horribly agonizing for him that he felt like his days weren't normal without hearing her hideous laugh and seeing her youthful smiles. His days went by like he felt as if he wasn't awake. He felt horrible that he hadn't been back before she has made that sudden decision that not everybody supported.

He felt like his head was floating as it ached at the same time while he was explaining tactics and opinions to certain people who were gathered up in the middle of a room with chairs, tables, papers, maps and radios. "We head to Maryland," Chris suddenly paused, sighing deep as he stood in the middle of the room, a table and map flat in front of him. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight to his other foot as another shock of headache visited him, making him tightly shut his eyes.  

"Chris," Robert interrupted, analyzing what was happening to him. "You don't look too good," his friend stated as a matter of fact.

"I'm fine," Chris muttered more to himself, shaking his head to clear the head ache away. "So, where were we?"

"Maryland," Paul and Dave spoke at the same time with worried smiles on their faces. The latter nodded at that and tried to remember what he wanted to say before he was interrupted by his own head ache, but nothing. He remembered nothing as his thoughts were drifted to you who was currently in a coma.

"Ah, shit." he shook his head in disappointment before speaking an apology as he deeply sighed, a tight frown plastered on his face while he spun on his heels and left the room in which the team was definitely not used to besides his outgoing personality and large smiles that can get any human infected. Even Y/N.

The team looked at each other with knowing faces and bewildered eyes.

You were moved to a much safer room inside the factory where a hospital bed lays for you. In request by Chris, of course.

His frown tightened even more when he ended up leaning against the door to your room, watching you sleep, entirely motionless and his heart could feel the pricks of dread creep onto his heart for the hundredth time. He was feeling completely down in the dumps since you haven't woken up and it was tearing him apart.

(Just imagine him with the beard first, he’ll get to shave it soon. Hehehe)

"Dorito," Anthony revealed himself and appeared to walk beside him. A solemn look on his face. "You okay, man?"

It took a second for his friend to reply, "It's been three days," he lowly uttered, swallowing the sadness away, his melancholic blue eyes fixated on your form with his eyebrows cinched tight together. "She hasn't woken up since the last three days and I don't know if she will,"

"And you haven't taken at least one decent meal since the day it happened," his friend said with utmost concern. Anthony glance back to where people were encircled around a lit up bonfire. Y/N's boyfriend looking like he was having the best night of his life as he chugged on some beer while talking to some brunette lass. "You look more worried than William over there," he gestured to the back.

"Psh," Chris suddenly reacted, giving no attention to Y/N's boyfriend because as he was walking towards her room, he saw how her lover was coping up to her coma. He was enjoying.

"What kind of boyfriend even is he?" said Chris as he shook his head in disdain as he continued to state a fact. "You know your girlfriend's over here in a coma and he hasn't even visited her," the man mindlessly spat, sounding in much seeth.

"He did," Anthony butted in with a small grin. Remembering the day he saw William visit Y/N for five minutes and never came back. "But, it was only one time!" said the latter who was too irked to even talk about it.

"Kid was telling me he was scared to see her almost close to dying,"

"The kid's an asshat," Chris stated with a raise of his brow, folding his arms against his chest. "Woah, woah. Chris, you sound like a jealous man," There was no doubt, a little tone of mockery in his words. The latter huffed to himself as his eyes continued to gaze at your unmoving form.

"You sure you only see her as your baby sister?"

Chris continued to scowl as he was hearing him out. "What if you actually see yourself as her dad?" Anthony added with a huge grin that made him give him the stink eye.

"I sure as hell don't see you looking at her like she's your baby sister," His friend interrogated him as he was just stating the obvious. Chris couldn't say anything back. "You look at her very differently than you look at your real sisters," Anthony paused, lightly shoving Chris's shoulder to enlighten him. "Everybody knows how you look at her,"

"How do I even look at her, Anthony?" questioned Chris in curiosity. His eyes completely unreadable. Definitely blank. He was an actor after all. "You give her the look whenever the Russo's shout action as Steve Rogers stares at Peggy Carter," his friend trailed off.

"I know she's young and all, but she's legal and I don't see anything wrong about it--" Anthony added for Chris, smirking in the process as a thought came in mind. "--That didn't stop Henry Cavill from dating a 19 year old woman back then,"

Chris couldn't help a snicker leave his cherry red lips, "Stop before he hears you," he quietly chortled. Shaking his head at his friend's abrupt theories. "As I was saying," added Anthony with a nod. "Know your priorities, follow your heart because it's already the end of the world, Dude."

"--I thought Resident Evil or the Walking dead wasn't real, but here we are."

There was a sudden silence that wrapped them both together. Their gazes fixated on you who seemed to be barely alive from your lack of presence. No matter what Chris does in his everyday life, he couldn't get to push himself harder because of the reality that you were facing.

He couldn't accept that maybe it was because of him. You got hurt because he wasn't around.

"Try and think about your feelings and stop being serious like Steve Rogers. It's freaking me out, "

Feelings. All Chris felt was platonic. In his head, he knows his actions meant nothing. It was neither romantic nor sexual. Yet, to some of his close friends or family knew his heart says otherwise.

"Anthony, I'm not in love with her," His forehead creased a little too deeply at his sudden confession. His heart feeling as if it began to drop more stones on top of it.

"Sureeee, Christopher." bantered Anthony, his voice entirely full of contempt. "You know, you're too old to be an indenial boy already."

The guilty man huffed at the back of his mind as he tightly bit his lip to refrain from saying anything more. His words earlier seem like it wasn't right. It feels as if he made himself more frustrated and overwrought. He anxiously bit the underside of his own lips as he blankly stared out of nowhere, seeming to be in too deep inside his thoughts.

To catch his friend's attention, Anthony managed to tap his shoulder to rip him off from drifting into another world.

"So, what's the deal for tomorrow?"

Chris did a double-take, his expression solemn as he was staring straight at your motionless body laying peacefully on top of the hospital bed. He subtly cleared his throat, eyebrows knotted in a twist.

"We head to Maryland, bring back survivors since Scarlett had evidences that there are atleast thirty of them. Some are kids. Some are already suffering from starvation. We might need tons of back-up because the place can be a trap. Lots of infected come by there every now and then as it was said by Hiddleston. We need to take risks,"

Anthony kept his eyes fixated on his friend. A small grin plastered on his face as it reached from ear to ear. "Noted, Cap."

"Shut it, Ant." he playfully spat with another shake of his head. Chest puffed up and arms folded together.

"Stop being an indenial bitch before it's too late,"

"I told you, I can only see her as--"

Anthony interrupted his sentence like he knew what he was about to say next, "--my baby sister, nothing more. Nothing less. Alright, alright. I'll leave you to it,"

Chris seemed to drift off somewhere after a minute or two. His thoughts suddenly were in a haywire just by looking at you and it was frustrating him why he was feeling stressed because of everything.

It's not like living in a zombie apocalypse wasn't as stressful as before.

Anthony gave Chris a manly pat on his back, turning around his heels with a smile. "I've managed to sneak up a stack of Heineken when we were back at that abandoned mall. Caesar and his friends had it,"

Chris had his eyes solely on you, his lively blue eyes now filled with dread and uncertainty. Staring at every bruise on every parts of your body and cursing the heavens why Caesar had found you vulnerable to the point that he wanted to dominate you into demise.

Chris wasn't in love with you. No. It was impossible.

Anthony's laugh pulled him off his head space. His next words making him lift a small smile on  his face.

"You're free to chug it all down, man."

Ya’ like it? GO REBLOG AND GIVE THIS POST A HEART! Heehee!

XOXO, TATA

[ageeksnerdyworld]

‘Neath These Lover’s Eyes

Characters: Temperance Filigran, Andrea Lombardi, Gris Sourir, and Nutmeg Paradise

Word Count: 4,730

Trigger Warning: Violence, Murder Mention, Abuse Mention, Rape Mention

Notes: More backstory stuff! Originally I wasn’t going to include the majority of what’s in here but then I changed my mind. Hope ya like it. As always The Cyber World and the viruses therein belong to @voiceoflarka

Summary: In an area chock full of Grimm the team struggles to hold them back. One of them gets hurt very badly. When things die down for a bit they hide among the rubble to heal up. And while they’re at it they start to look for survivors. Click the read more if you'd like.

~~~

The four walked into the city expecting a bad situation. They were told that many Grimm were attacking but the sheer numbers were far more than they thought. Their job was to clear the area and search for survivors when that was done. But the charging horde of Boarbatusks and the Ursi clearly wanted to make that very difficult.

The group immediately went on the offensive; attacking the nearest creature of Grimm.

Temperance squared up with a Boarbatusk. It dug its front hoof into the ground and breathed heavily. The creature was preparing for an attack she saw coming from a mile away. The Boarbatusk tucks its body in on itself and starts to spin rapidly towards her. She moved out of the way and brought up her crossbow.

When the creature stopped she fired. It screamed in pain, while she knocked another bolt, and she fired again.

The second bolt hit and the creature turned on her; charging once again.

Just before the creature would've hit her three rapid fired shots struck the left side of its face. The combined attacks were too much for the creature and it fell to the ground. It lay there for a second or two before dissipating into black smoke. Temperance turned to see Andrea standing barely a foot away from where the creature stood.

"Thanks, babe," she says with a smile.

"Let's show these monsters what they're really up against," he says with a smirk.

While they destroy Boarbatusk after Boarbatusk the others also took down their fair share of Grimm. Screams of wounded Ursi filled the air. Bodies of the various creatures litter the streets, amidst the rubble of the fight, all slowly turning into smoke. The group seems to be making relatively good progress. The horde of Grimm is thinning.

Suddenly a large gust of wind blows through the air.

"Nevermore!" Gris shouts over the sound of battle.

A massive, black winged, Nevermore swoops down from some unseen perch. . Its gigantic wings push violent gusts of wind through the area; knocking around a lot of debris. The creature screeches loudly as it flies. It reaches down with its large legs and sharp talons. Clawing at the group of hunters it tries to pick off one. Large, glowing, red eyes glare at them from underneath the white mask that covers its face. The group ducks out of the way. The Nevermore flies off with another screech before it starts swooping back around.

"Not on my watch," Andrea says through gritted teeth.

Andrea points his staff at the underside of the Nevermore. Shooting as fast as he can he tries to wound the Grimm enough that it would flee. Despite the bullets that puncture its body the creature continues to persist.

"Boost me up!" Nutmeg Paradise shouts to him.

He nods and kneels down; cupping his hands together. The iguana virus rushes toward Andrea. Just as her foot lands in his hands Andrea hurls her up in the air. She launches high up and crosses her arms in front of her body in an X shape. Holding her twin chakrams in each hand she prepares to strike. Sun shines off the sharpened blades and temporarily blinds the Grimm.

The Nevermore lets out a loud screech and flaps its wings. But it can't stop fast enough to avoid the attack.

Nutmeg swings her chakrams down into the belly of the Nevermore. Then she swings them again, upwards this time, striking even deeper into the Grimm.

The creature screams and falls to the ground. As the body of the massive Nevermore slowly turns to smoke the group surveys the damage. The streets are still cluttered with concrete, glass, and various rubble. A few of the remaining Grimm are running away. The group themselves look a bit worse for wear, but, faring well.

"Whaddya think, team? Give the place the all clear?"

The team's leader, Gris Sourir, asked the question. His deep southern drawl added a strange calm to his words.

He was standing on top of the trunk of a car that had been chucked through a coffee shop window. His trusted sniper rifle, that doubled as a long sword, hung across his broad shoulders. Wind blew through his short ash blonde hair; moving it ever so slightly. His face lit up in a hopeful smile. A bright, excited, energy shone through his intense indigo eyes. The forest green veins that run up and down his arms seemed to glow bright in his excitement.

"Maybe we could if you got your stupid arse off the bloody car."

Gris laughed; "Didn't know you cared so much about little ol' me, Nu-Nu."

Nutmeg scoffs bitterly. If she was honest she couldn't care less about the team's leader. His high and mighty, lets save the world, attitude made her skin crawl. She just wanted to get the job done and go back to her life. She never wanted to be a hunter in the first place. And she sure as hell didn't want to be there. Crossing her arms over her chest she stared him down. The twin chakrams hang from either side of her belt; light shining off them.

"A little help here," she whispers to Temperance and Andrea.

"Oh, come on, Nutmeg. What's the worst that could happen to him?"

Almost as if on cue a Boarbatusk charges through the coffee shop window. The remaining glass shatters on impact; spraying the street below. The creature slams into Gris and sends him flying through the air. In his shock and confusion his grip lets go of his rifle. The rifle also goes flying through the air and lands several feet away from the group.

Before the team can react the Boarbatusk stops its charge and heaves its tusks into Gris.

He screams in pain as his soul pours from the wounds.

"You had to say something didn't you?" Temperance whispers angrily nudging Andrea in the shoulder.

"Oh come on," he whines. "It was just a joke."

She runs a hand through her hair; unsure of what to do. To her left she sees the blue-green scales of Nutmeg’s tail back away. To her right she sees the somewhat tattered ends of Andrea’s navy blue coat whipping in the wind. He’s still frozen in shock from the unexpected attack. The sound of the creature throwing Gris about pulls Temperance’s attention. Shaking her head she mutters an expletive under her breath. Hooking her crossbow behind her back she rushes off towards the Grimm.

Running as fast as she can she darts in front of the Boarbatusk.

“Hey! Drop him!” she shouts.

Much to her surprise the creature stops violently whipping Gris about. It turns to her with it’s dark red, glowing, eyes. The Grimm heavily grunts in response. She knows that the Boarbatusk is about to charge. But this time she doesn’t move out of the way. Instead Temperance stands firm and digs her boots into the ground. She grits her teeth and attempts to brace herself against the impact.

The creature, it’s harsh tusks, and Gris ram into her.

She goes flying about five or so feet into the exterior of a building.

Temperance struggles to her feet; wobbling as she does so. She can feel a large rip in the left shoulder of her jacket. Shoving her hair out of her face she senses something that wasn’t there before. A small dribble of her gold, shimmering, soul flows from the corner of her mouth. She wipes it away with the back of her hand and smiles.

Feeling the force of the impact as it flows through her body she also feels Andrea’s arms wrap around her.

“If you’re doing what I think you are you gotta get closer,” he says as he rushes the two of them back to where Temperance originally stood.

“Stay close,” she says leaning in for a kiss. “Not entirely sure how this is gonna play out.”

Andrea kisses her and when he pulls back he nods. Holding his staff at the ready he prepares to aid her if need be. At the same time Nutmeg rushes up next to him. She whispers something in his ear. He nods and tells her to wait. He points to where Temperance is sneaking up on the Grimm.

“Gotcha,” the iguana virus says. “Let’s just hope she doesn’t kill Gris as well. That won’t look good.”

While they whisper and stand at the ready Temperance stops right next to the Grimm. From her vantage point she can see that Gris is no longer on the sharp, pointed, tusks of the creature. He lays on the ground, moaning in pain, clutching the gaping wounds in his body. One wound is in his sternum and the other is in his gut. A ever growing puddle of dark forest green lays underneath him. Black smoke flows out of the wounds in the Boarbatusk’s hide.

Temperance brings her hands to her chest in tight fists.

She pushes her hands out towards the Grimm. As she does so the energy from the harsh impact explodes from her body and slams into the creature. It shrieks in pain as the energy blasts through it’s side. A large, round, gaping hole remains in the flesh. Wisps of smoke flow out of the massive wound.

The Grimm falls to the ground with a loud thud.

She hunches over in exhaustion; heaving breaths escaping her chest. Andrea rushes up to her side and lays a hand on her back. Shaking her head she waves him off and tells him to grab Gris. Nutmeg also rushes up to Gris’ aid. As Temperance gathers herself the others get Gris to his feet. They slowly stagger back to where she stands. Nutmeg gingerly pulls Gris’ arm off her shoulder and turns to Temperance.

“Found a place we can take cover for now,” she says. “We’ll get there and I’ll do my thing and fix him up.”

~~~

It takes the group around fifteen to twenty minutes to get to the spot Nutmeg found. She leads them through the rubble of an abandoned building; pausing every so often to check in on Andrea and Gris. She slashes through some of the larger parts of rubble with her chakarams. When they make it to the clearer area on the ground floor Nutmeg puts a hand up.

“Safe and sound. Well, hold on...” she trails off as she looks around.

Temperance and Andrea stop at an overturned wooden cabinet. He kicks some of the rubble and ruined furniture and dust out of the way. Temperance looks at his work and nods. It’ll be fine for now. It has to anyway. Together they gingerly ease Gris to the floor. His eyes are still closed and his veins are now dimmer than before. But they can see that his chest still moves as he breathes.

The pair stand by their hurt team leader; unsure of what to do next.

A few awkward minutes pass by before Nutmeg Paradise comes back.

Explaining to the others that she secured the way in as best she could. Andrea shakes his head very bothered that she didn’t ask them to help her. Temperance puts a hand on his shoulder; telling him to stop. He looks to her with an eyebrow cocked and his eyes closed slightly in a somewhat confused expression. But Nutmeg just waves him off with a hand and kneels down by Gris’s side.

Nutmeg cracks her neck and shakes her hands. Rolling her sleeves up she takes a long exhale. She lays both of her hands on either side of the wound in his sternum. Closing her eyes she clears her mind and focuses on the injury. Her breathing steadies and an intense calm washes over her face.

“Do you need any--” Temperance starts to ask but the iguana virus bitterly cuts her off.

“Why in fucking hell would I need any help using my power?”

“I just thought I’d ask because it’s a real bad wound.”

“Just let me work.”

Temperance nods and takes Andrea by the hand. They walk away, exchanging glances, silently. When they’re about ten of fifteen feet from the others they stop. Andrea looks down at their intertwined fingers and sighs. He leans in closer to her and kisses her cheek. She whispers that it would probably be a good idea if they looked for survivors.

He nods and tells her to lead the way.

As they search through the abandoned building Temperance begins to hum a tune. They walk close together with hands still clasped. Passing by chunks of building and smashed glass everything seems clear of survivors. They agree that it should be taken as a good sign. Hopefully it means that everyone in the area got out before things got as bad as they did.

They come to a section where the floor above crumbled down into the ground floor. Andrea helps Temperance climb up first. In turn she pulls him up when she finds safe purchase. Unsurprising to the both of them the second floor is just as destroyed as the first. Blown in widows have shattered glass everywhere. Shards of piping poke out from various broken pieces of the other floors.

Temperance goes off a bit by herself; still humming to distract herself. As she walks she looks through the debris. Returning a chunk of concrete to where it lay something catches her eye. She rushes to the back of the building. The wall was partially torn asunder and the section that used to be intact now lay on the floor; a pile of destruction. Kneeling on the floor she peers under the rubble.

The faded pale pink glow pulsed in and out from the darkness.

She starts to remove the smaller bits of rubble. Tossing them aside she turns back and shouts to Andrea; “Babe, I need your help!”

Mere moments later he shoots up at her side. A few strands of his long, dark brown, hair fell into his face from the movement. She tells him about the situation and he quickly gets the gist of her idea. With the majority of the smaller bits out of the way Andrea walks around the left side of the rubble. Temperance moves to the right side.

They both tightly grip the underside of their side of the piece of wall and lift it.

A small sprite crawls out from under the rubble.

The pair lets go of the section of wall they were holding. It harshly lands back on the other pieces with a loud sound. Bits of dust and tiny rubble fall from the impact. The two of them turn to check on the child.

“Hey, kiddo,” Temperance says kneeling down to be at eye level with the sprite. “You’re safe now, okay?”

The child, small and skinny, wears a dirty and somewhat tattered shirt. Pants that are also as ruined cover the sprite’s short legs. One of the black shoes is scuffed and the laces are untied. But the left foot is without a shoe covering the dusty white sock. The young sprite’s pale pink veins glow brighter than before. A small wisp of the same color flows from the boy’s right eye.

A pair of round, furry, ears poke out from the boy’s short brown hair. Both ears are tan in color with black spots. He holds his fluffy tail, same coloring and markings as his ears, in his small right hand. He clutches his tail as if using it as a makeshift security blanket. His left-hand thumb is shoved into his mouth. Big, round, bright amber eyes peer out of the young boy’s face.

The child nods with wide, terror-filled, eyes but says nothing.

“Don’t worry all the big, bad, Grimm are gone. We got them.”

The hand falls from the mouth as the child’s mouth hangs open; “Really? You’re hunters?”

Temperance nods and the child smiles; slightly relieved. She asks the sprite’s name. The response comes out in a whisper. She offers her name and nudges her head to Andrea and gives up his name as well. He walks forward to the pair hoping that he doesn’t look as terrifying as he feels. Temperance takes the young sprite’s hand and squeezes it tightly.

“Steel,” she says calmly and sincerely. “You are braver than I could ever be; keeping yourself safe alone with all those Grimm.”

“Really? Do you think I’m brave enough to be a hunter like you two?”

“Oh, of course! Now, come on, let’s go meet the others.”

“Others?”

“You think we’d be here all by ourselves?” she asks with a laugh.

The boy shrugs. They walk hand in hand with Andrea behind. As they reach the crushed sections of floor that lead down Steels falls. Andrea bursts forth and catches him before he falls to the ground floor beneath. He clutches the boy to his chest and carries him the rest of the way.

When they reach the safe spot Temperance calls to Nutmeg.

The iguana virus rushes over and sees the young sprite in Andrea’s arms. She nods and takes the boy without a word. When they try to help Nutmeg pushes them away. In an annoyed, and audibly drained, voice she tells them to leave. That she’s got the situation handled.

Andrea nods and walks away. His partially tattered dark navy coat swishes as he turns on his heels.

Temperance follows; rushing after him. When she catches up to him she sees him sitting up against an overturned metal cabinet. She sits down next to him and lays a hand on his shoulder. He looks away from her. She asks what’s wrong. Temperance hints that she has an idea that whatever is bothering him at the moment has something to do with Steel. She reminds him that Steel is just a boy and is far removed from the both of them.

Andrea mutters that Steel reminded him of a younger version of himself.

"There's a lot you don't know," he says. "And I don't have the heart to tell you."

He looks down at the floor; the shame clearly written on his face. The silver veins that ran along his neck shined brightly in the dark. She reaches out and carefully moves the hair away. Looking at him, the man she loved with all her being, she shook her head.

"Whatever it is," she says seriously, "tell me when you're ready. We can handle it together."

He lifts his head and his red eyes are full of regret, shame, and sadness. Tears start to fill the edges of his eyes. His lips part in a worried quiver. The sharp, pointed, long canines poke through the small space.

"I don't deserve you, Temperance. You should be with someone better than me. A good person."

Andrea sighs and turns away from her. He sits up and wipes the tears from his eyes. He lets out a shaky breath as his hands fall to his sides. Temperance quietly moves to sit next to him. She grabs his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

Andrea's head shifts as he looks down at their intertwined fingers.

"You know how I'm not from around here?"

She laughs; "Yeah, your clothes would give it away even if you never told me."

"Trying to lighten the mood and figure out how to tell you this."

She shakes her head rapidly and puts her hands out; palms down. "Okay, okay, okay. No more interruptions from me. Promise."

Andrea lets out another sigh. Running a hand through his hair he pauses. Thinking for a second he bites his bottom lip but then nods to himself.

"You know I'm from the Victorian District. Most of the viruses who aren't from there know the basics but that's it."

She nods; trying to get him to look at her but he can’t bring himself to do it.

"My mom was a maid for this high society guy. Lord Reeve Wickham. We lived in the servants quarters of his manor estate. The other servants were usually nice to me. Especially the cook. But I found out the truth about Lord Wickham when I was still young, not a child mind you, but young enough at the time. Far too young to react rationally when I... I saw..."

Temperance lays a hand on his back, patting him lightly, the action tells him that he can take his time. A few minutes, long and quiet, pass before he continues.

"He was abusing her. Raping her, pulling on her hair, and slapping her in the face. I ran into the room and jumped on him. He got off my mom, shocked to say the least, and tried to attack me. But I bit into his neck before he got the chance."

Temperance covers her mouth with her hand.

"I drank him. I drank him until there was nothing left."

The deeper Andrea goes into detail his hands clutches the rubble at his feet. His veins glow brighter and his knuckles go white. His mouth twists into a grimace; repulsed by the events and his younger self's reaction. Tears roll down his face as he recounts how Wickham's soul tasted. How powerful he felt as the other virus's soul flowed through his veins. Temperance nods slowly the severity of his confession dawning on her.

"Is that what brought you here?"

He nods; "I ran. I ran and never looked back."

She wraps her arms around him and he returns the embrace. He goes to wipe the tears from his face but she stops him. She whispers that it’s okay. Crying over something you regret doing isn’t shameful or bad, Temperance says, it shows growth and change. It was something to be proud of.

“What made you stay?” she asks; trying to take his focus off his harsh past.

“At first it was because this place, its people, need help. I can’t stand by while innocents are hurt for no reason. I don’t know how anyone could do that. Everyone deserves a home where they know they’re safe.”

“What changed your mind?”

He looks at his hands, sees the stains of Wickham’s soul, and pauses. For a moment he’s his younger self again; full of anger and hate. Just as quickly as it appeared the mirage passes. Andrea looks up at Temperance and sighs. She’s one of the few people he’s met who looked past the sharp teeth and the monster within. He reaches out and touches the side of her face.

“You did.”

~~~

In the middle of the night Andrea woke suddenly. He couldn't remember when he fell asleep but it was obvious he did. Sitting up in confusion, and slight fear, his hand brushed against something.

What the hell--

He looked down to see Temperance sleeping soundly next to him. Shaking his head he silently chuckled to himself; embarrassed that he forgot she was there. He leaned against the overturned desk they used as cover and sighed. Looking over at her, seeing the peaceful expression on her face, he smiled happily. She wiggled her nose as if something brushed against it. He laughed quietly to himself.

He didn't want to wake her but in this moment he couldn't hold it in any longer.

Andrea scoots closer to her as quietly as he could.

Gingerly reaching out he touches her shoulder and gives her a slight shake. She wakes up almost immediately; eyes wide and fists up. Then she sees that Andrea was the one who woke her. In response she gives him a harsh shove and a glare. She rolls over and tries to go back to sleep.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “You’re already awake. C’mon I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Temperance grumbles but she gets up. Andrea takes her by the hand and leads her away from the others. She understands and doesn’t object. They all need their sleep anyway. When their far away enough Andrea stops. Still holding her hand he looks over her head to peer at where they others lay. They’re all still sleeping soundlessly in a small pile. He looks down at the floor and whispers.

"I know this is weird, and sudden, but--"

"But what?"

"It doesn't matter. Temperance Filigran, I..."

Looking up his eyes meet hers and he just melts. A wide smile forms across his face as he gets lost in the deep amber. He trails off mid sentence. Temperance chuckles and snaps her fingers in front of his face. The action brings him back to his senses and he chuckles as well. Then his face goes white and his eyes go wide. He stumbles around; patting the pockets of his coat and his pants. It seemed like he was looking for something. His eyes searched the ground in desperation.

"What's wrong with me?" he says with a laugh; pushing his hair back. "I don't have a ring."

"A ring?" she asks; excited, confused, and shocked all at once.

Andrea gives her a defeated look. "Well, secret's out I guess."

He grabs her hand.

"I love you. I love you more than anything. You inspire me to be a better person. Not just for myself but for you and everything you care about. I want to wake up next to you every morning and go to sleep by your side every night. If you'd have me."

Andrea sighs and shakes his head; in utter disbelief that he's actually saying the words that pour out of his mouth.

"Temperance Filigran. Will you--uh... Will you marry me?"

She doesn't say anything. Instead she reaches into the inside pocket of her jacket.

She pulls out a small black velvet box. Opening it she reveals a pair of necklaces. Each is half of a heart and when put together they form the whole. The engraving is only legible when the pieces are together and it reads; TAKEN. Brushing a hair out of Andrea's shocked face she laughs.

"I was going to ask you!"

"Really? So, uh, is that a yes?"

"Of course it is, you dummy."

They embrace; throwing their arms around each other. He kisses her cheek. When they let go of one another Temperance looks at her fiancée with a smirk.

"This isn't very sudden you know."

Andrea nods; "I know. I've been sitting on that speech for a month."

The sound of someone loudly clearing their throat alerts the couple. They immediately turn in the direction of the sound. Nutmeg is standing a few feet away from them. She leans against the remains of the floor above which had fallen straight down and now stood upright. She seems better than when they last saw her; cuts healed and veins brighter. Her thick green-blue tail curls around her leg before laying still on the floor.

"So, how long has this been going on?" she says gesturing to them.

"A few years," Andrea says.

"Four actually," Temperance adds.

Nutmeg nods approvingly. She walks up to the couple and looks Andrea square in the eye. The look of approval wanes and a harsh stare replaces it. She harshly shoves a finger in his chest.

"If you do anything to hurt her, Lombardi, I'm coming after you."

Andrea puts a hand over his heart and bows his head slightly.

"You have my word."

"Good," she says sincerely. "You two should really get some sleep."

Temperance nods; "You too, Nutmeg. You've already done a lot."

Nutmeg shakes her head. She grips the handles of her chakrams; clearly ready for the next attack. She doesn’t notice that the sun is rising in the dark sky. Neither does Andrea as he starts to argue the point. Temperance is the first to notice.

She taps Andrea on the shoulder and tries to whisper something to him.

But before any of them does anything Gris walks up with Steel on his broad shoulders. The boy beams happily. His small hands clutch Gris’s much larger ones. Both of them look a lot better than earlier. In fact Gris Sourir looks exactly as he did before they even fought the Grimm. A wide, proud, smile paints his face and makes small crow’s feet at the edges of his eyes. Both viruses’ veins are now at a healthy glow.

“Actually, let’s get this little guy home.”

[orgroarts]

Lord and Hunter, Part 11: A Needed Respite

The four stood before the gates, of the remnants of the ruined city of Skrallingdjar, to look for a place to sleep for the night. All the houses they saw were damaged to some degree, ranging from a few small scrapes on its outside walls to a half broken-down wreck of a house. Skrallingdjar was bigger than it appeared from the outside. Most of the buildings were from a white clay-like stone, chiseled from one piece. A few tall towers dotted out from between the buildings like mushrooms between the moss.  ‘’Where to, guys?’’ Padlock stepped through the burst-open gate. His stomach turned when he saw it splattered with blood and cracked with claw-marks. The ground, as well, was dirtied and did not feel right. Therr too got a nasty feeling from the place. He shifted around constantly and howled softly.  ‘’Guys?’’ Padlock turned around and was struck with confusion.  Morg was knelt down in front of him, holding Einkill down by the scruff of his neck. ‘’Morg, what is all this?’’ Padlock asked. He shivered and rubbed his arms with his hands. Therr bumped his head against Padlock’s arm.  ‘’You had said you would postpone your judgement of me until we had arrived in the city, and so likewise would I judge over this dwarf. Now that we are here, I await in prayer.’’ Morg replied in one go, holding his free hand over the emblem of his chest. Einkill, while struggling to get away, looked around in a bit of a scared daze.  Padlock crossed his arms and leaned on the back of his feet, grinning. He’d never thought that Morg would take things this seriously. But alright, he needed a healing meat-tank that could protect him and the group.  ‘’Well then, Morg... I uh-’’ He felt the nasty buzz on his horns once more. As if something did not like his train of thought. ‘’Morg, I have decided that you should stay with me-’’ Therr bumped Padlock’s arm again, rougher this time. ‘’No.’’ ‘’-That you should stay with US!’’ Padlock corrected himself, and Therr kept bumping Padlock’s arm. ‘’Nooooo! He bad choice!’’ Padlock only groaned. ‘’What? Do you want to go for a walk, what?’’ Therr stamped on the floor and jerked his head side to side. ‘’HE BAD!’’  Morg stood up, still with Einkill’s neck tight in his hand. The small dwarf started hiccuping and gasping for air. ‘’Distance yourself, Gnoll. My judgement over Einkill is not yet over.’’ Therr did not like this one bit. Instead of stepping back, he put a padded foot forward and grabbed his spear to do some harm to Morg.  The buzz on his horns urged Padlock to do something about this, it seemed.  And so he did.  Padlock stood in front of Therr and reached out. ‘’STOP it for once! They are our FRIENDS now, damnit!’’ He slapped Therr hard in the face.  Therr fell backwards from the hit that he didn’t expect. And where Padlock expected the gnoll to immediately spring back up to bite down his throat, Therr only sat there and stared at him with those big, glazed eyes.  ‘’Uh... Buddy?’’ Padlock hesitantly asked. He didn’t know what was going on, and that unnerved him. What the hell was this green power doing to him?  Therr blinked when he heard the noise. He looked blankly from Padlock, to Morg, to Einkill still struggling to breathe.  He then jolted up, and Padlock feared the worst- Until he was hugged to tightly that he too couldn’t breathe.  ‘’UH, BUDDY!’’ Therr yelled, holding his small friend up and wagging his tail like it was the end of the world.  ‘’T-Therr... I can’t breathe!’’ Padlock struggled to get loose, and he heard Einkill to his side, laughing. Morg put the small bandit down.  The paladin took a strict look at the dwarf. ‘’I need conclusion. Why did you steal all those belongings back when we had found you?’’  Einkill heaved until his head was clear once again, he wobbly stood up straight and looked at Morg. Despite standing on his toes, he could not even get to Morg’s shoulder-height.  ‘’I thought I’d told ye before, lad, but I’ll tell you once again.’’ Einkill let out a long sigh. ‘’I’d overheard of Skrallingdjar, when I got there, of a lack of attacks as of late. I-...’’ Morg did not lose sight of the small dwarf. ‘’Continue.’’ ‘’A-And as I... Wanted to leave town, I saw ‘em. Gnolls. A whole buttload of ‘em, lad. An’ I heard ‘em too. Howling and the like everywhere. Wasn’t nice, I tell ya.’’ Morg crossed his arms. ‘’And what does that have to do with the theft?’’ Einkill gulped. Time to tell the truth.  ‘’Ah’ stole those things so the gnolls couldn’t get to ‘em. I was going ta’ bring them back, I swear! But, now that’ve seen this...’’ Einkill dragged his boot through the dust. ‘’It’s not really necessary anymore, it is?’’ Therr had carried Padlock to the others and flopped him down on the ground. ‘’I hear gnoll?’’ Padlock wheezed. Air!  Einkill started sweating profusely. ‘’N-Nay?’’ But Morg’s face turned somewhat. There was some emotion, but what it was? Perhaps puzzled thought, perhaps comprehension. They weren’t sure.  ‘’An evil action to be overruled by good intent. So it be. I shall take you along, dwarf. If we find survivors, we will bring them back their belongings.’’ And Einkill perked up after hearing this, jumping in the air and clapping his boots together. ‘’Aye then, lad! Let’s go!’’  Padlock, out of breath, pointed at the sky, and at the dark clouds covering a red-pink moon. ‘’-Go find a place to sleep.’’ The four now-friends went through the gates and searched high and low for a suiting resting place. Yet all they could find were torn-down bricks of white splattered with red. The ground was littered with broken pottery, weapons, and a bone, snapped in half here and there.  It made everyone uncomfortable, safe for Therr, who dimly sniffed through the ruins to find something. Padlock wondered what the hell he had done, for the gnoll to behave like this. It seemed to surprise the others as well.  ‘’Lord Padlock, may I ask what made the gnoll change his behaviour?’’ ‘’Nnnoooooo idea, Morg-buddy.’’  ‘’Wha’ever ya did, I’m glad. Now he won’t snap at us again.’’ ‘’Hope so, Einkill... Hey-’’ ‘’Ye?’’ ‘’Glad to have you on the team. Both of you.’’  On their way they passed a dark alley, which seemed surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the ravaged city. The others walked on ahead, but Padlock stood still as something caught his eye in the near-dark.  Books.  ‘’Guys... Hold up. Morg, did this place have libraries?’’ Padlock asked, nearing the darkened alleyway.  Morg stood still and nodded, turning his head to the building next to the small alley. Something in an unknown language was cut from the stone above the doorway. ‘’Yes.’’  Therr scurried over to the doorway and sniffed around inside. ‘’Smells like paper!’’ He yelled out. It hummed around inside of the dark building. ‘’Bleh!’’ He pulled his head out and sat near the entrance instead, sniffing at broken pottery that was scattered here and there.  Einkill took a good look around from a distance, and saw a couple of weathered and fallen-down statues in the midst of a large open space. ‘’Must’ve been the centre o’ town.’’  Padlock had walked over to the books, looking at the pile that was neatly stacked, with a puddle of dark-red flowing dangerously close by. Quickly, Padlock lifted the two books -who looked the most intact- in his own arms and carried them away, so that they wouldn’t get wet. He left the alley and re-joined his team.  ‘’Let’s sleep here.’’  Morg frowned, with one hand on the hilt of his great-axe. ‘’Why so? Should we not search for any survivors, or any lingering threats inside this city?���’ Therr turned himself to Morg, and his face seemed to change emotions every few seconds. He was thinking.  ‘’Nuh-uh! When gnolls attack, they leave nothing alive! No flee-people, no survivorrrrrs...-’’ - ‘’No corpses.’’ Padlock gulped. That explained the red.  Morg took one more good look around. ‘’Then we shall rest. I have not slept since I departed towards the forest.’’ He did indeed look very tired. Padlock, with the books still in his hands, entered the house closest to the library. It was a small, dingy white-stone building, but apart from the big hole in the front it was left mostly intact. Once inside, Padlock saw it had only a small couch, one bed and one small table in it.  ‘’Nice.’’ He laughed sarcastically. ‘’Guess we’ll have to take turns.’’ Therr noticed the small building, took a running start inside and threw himself onto the table, breaking it on half. He fell asleep shortly after. Einkill heard this and laughed so hard he started to cry. ‘’The wonders of nature!’’ He let out, and then leaned against one of the inner walls of the dingy house, wiping away the tears. He sat down on the nearly-torn bed and waited until his laughter simmered down. Morg sat down on the bench, letting out a deep sigh. He undid the weapons on his back and placed them against the wall next to him.  ‘’Sure ye’d sleep like that, lad?’’ Einkill asked, upon seeing Morg not taking off his armour. ‘’Why don’t ya take that stuff off and slip into somethin’ more... Comfortable?’’ Morg looked at Einkill with his usual strict expression.  ‘’No. I am most comfortable when I am impervious to most forms of attack.’’  Einkill smiled and raised his shoulders. ‘’I can get behind that.’’ Padlock leaned with his shoulder against the torn-down part of the building, staring at the ruined streets before him. He held the books tightly against himself.  ‘’Lord Padlock, you of all people should take some respite. I would gladly stand guard in your stead.’’ Padlock looked over his shoulder to Morg, which was quite difficult considering the green horn stuck on there, and slowly shook his head. ‘’No, Morg. Thank you, though. I’ll take Einkill’s advice and get rid of...’’ He looked at himself, and the ceremonial clothes that did not protect him from the elements, to say the least. He shivered, as the night was getting the dry, unpleasant kind of cold. ‘’Get rid of these. I’m gonna put on something new.’’  His tail flicked and hit the wall as he talked. Morg frowned. ‘’Be careful, Lord Padlock. Do you wish for me to guard you?’’ And once again Padlock shook his head.  ‘’Nah, thanks. Go take some rest. I’ll be back soon.’’ 

Padlock walked through the silent streets with one book under each arm. Despite all the carnage that had happened here, he found this place, in the dead of the night, to be a calm place. He didn’t know if that was the green talking or himself. He’d only wished to walk through Skrallingdjar when it was more, well... Alive. ‘’Shucks.’’ He sighed. ‘’Well, that sort of stuff can only happen to me, it seems.’’ He laughed it off as he walked around the town square. The broken-down statues, he thought, were telling him a story of prospering in times and places as dire as this. A story told by muted mouths, with years of delay, heard on deaf ears.  Padlock quickly walked on, until he found a building with fallen baskets in front of it. He knew what that meant. ‘’A shop.’’ He grinned. ‘’They must got some stuff. Sweet.’’ His thief-instinct bubbled up, and nearly he forgot that the horns on him even existed. For a small moment, he was once again a thief. One of opportunity, one of chance. And right he was. Inside the shop, when he put down the books somewhere on the corner of a table, he found a scarecrow, leaning lonely against a wall. All the stuff around the shop was scattered on the floor. The food, too. Breads, fruits and whatnot. No meat. Padlock scoffed. ‘’Gnolls.’’  The scarecrow was surprisingly untouched, and Padlock took that fact with utmost gratitude.  a few moments later, he had donned the clothes of the scarecrow, and tossed his own ceremonial robes to the floor like the useless scraps they were. Now at least, he had protection from the elements, and the marking on his chest was no longer seen. The tail and the horns on his shoulders, that was something to worry about for another day. He grabbed the books once more, and left the shop to find a place to read the books in peace.

Padlock came across a stone bench. He tried sitting on it, but his tail was in the way. He walked onward, and came across a broken wall, which he tried sitting on to balance the weight of his tail. That didn’t work either, for the small rocks sticking out of the wall were sharp and pointy. He walked onward once more. Then, Padlock stumbled past what appeared to be a watchtower. It stood somewhere along the outer wall. Padlock’s feet were getting tired and he needed a place to read these books. With a lack of other options, he pondered about how he could get up this tower. There were no stairs, as the tower consisted of one stone column, and the wooden ladder used to climb up the tower lay broken on the ground before him. It was probably destroyed during the attack.  Padlock thought and thought, walking around the watchtower again and again with the books under his arm. Then, he remembered.  ‘’I’ve gotten over that chasm before too, haven’t I? All I have to do is just- Turn into that bat-thing, and then I’m done!’’  So, with the books laid on the ground, he braced himself and shivered as he felt himself turning into the bat-like beast from before, squeaking and chittering with horns still protruding from his shoulders. He flapped clumsily for a few moments before grabbing the two books with his talons and flying upwards, spiralling up the watchtower and landing on its top with a thud.  Right on his face. But, at least he was on the tower. ‘’Need to work on that landing.’’ He joked to himself, and he opened the book and began reading. 

To his surprise, Padlock understood nothing of the book, despite it being filled to the brim with page upon page of manic scribbling, strange symbols and unsettling figures that brought a chill up Padlock’s spine. He went through page after page, reading but not comprehending, until he went to the last page. It was only covered in black ink, sprawled over the page with crude yet unnerving precision. Even the corners were covered. As Padlock tried making sense of this wreck of a book, he once again heard the humming from his horns. It seemed to be wanting to say something to him, yet it only sounded like blood rushing through his head. He touched the black page, and suddenly felt his hand being scorched in everything but physical form. Something painfully stung his hand and forced him to hold the book still while the dark page was suddenly being filled, line by rigid line, in a sickening green light.  It formed the shape of a horned demon-like being, with eyes that were but one colour, a tail of spikes, baring what appeared to be a gauntlet with ghastly whips around it. Padlock could not move his hand from the book, no matter how hard he tried yanking it away. It was only when the green out of his hand sprawled a name beneath the demon that he could let go: ‘’Unuthar, The Only True God, The Shameless, Bane of Rulers and Ruler of the Bane, Spiked Bringer of Faith. Swiftly may he return to join us in eternal flesh.’’ The horns on Padlock’s shoulders felt like they were tearing off his arms and the ones on his head nearly made his head burst. He slammed the accursed black book on the ground and stepped on it, trying to get rid of it once and for all. He looked on with a mix of relief and bewilderment when he stomped straight into a small heap of black ash and dust.  ‘’What... The hell?’’ He asked himself. The sting on his hand was all but gone, which he was very grateful for. After that... Happening, he almost felt hesitant to open the second book. But he knew that if he wanted answers, he needed to. This book was fragile, brittle. As if it had been handed from person to person over the centuries, and as if the book knew Padlock would be the last.  It had few pages in it, most either torn out, illegible or nonexistent. But those few pages that he could read, he studied with all the attention he could muster.  It looked like a diary of sorts, or maybe a journal. Whatever it was, this couldn’t have been written by a normal human’s hand. He read page upon page until he reached the one that struck his mind the most.  It was written with a blood-red ink, on a tar-black page. ‘’And when the One who is The Only Truth, Spreads out from the Mounts of Choul,  And entrusts only those of his Faith that he deems of worth,  That is when the Tarred Dragon will sprout from his cracked egg, To lead and spread us ever on.’’ So read the first verse. Padlock shuffled himself as he read on, leaning against the edge of the tower. He didn’t care. This book was already infinite times better than the previous, mostly because this one did not burn his hand in the slightest. In fact, it only blew his mind. He gulped, leaned back even more against the edge, and read the second verse as the world seemingly slid away around him. ‘’Thus when our Lord has been made flesh,  The hands on his horns will take their shape, Also to become the flesh moulded into flesh,  To become He Who Evokes, And He Who Gathers. They, the hands on Unuthar’s bright horns,  They become Riapsed and Modugno,  And They shall help our Lord claim and keep, What is rightfully ours to keep.’’ Second verse. Padlock’s eyes were fixed on the pages now. These words addled with him, entangled his attention with the letters. These texts had turned his world upside-down. Was this how he came to be? Who’d written this? Why was it here? He had so many questions that this book didn’t answer. But alas, a third verse remained. He flipped a page, and read on as he felt the sweat run up his spine. Every muscle inside him tensed up and his eyes were wide open against the page that was now almost glued to his hands, and to his eyes. He read on in the search of answers. ‘’So when the forlorn soul has been made of flesh, And kissed with the waters of a thousand-found guilt,  Struck in the heart and hit with the gift, Then that soul is reborn to us as Unuthar,  Reborn on the horned tops on the northern altar,  And that soul shall once again find its way to the Dark Mountain, Where Unuthar once arose before,  With the horde of lesser demons, our siblings, under its command, And they, our siblings in all but name, shall aid us, In rebirthing The Evoker and The Gatherer in a same amount of blood.’’

Padlock looked up from the last page of the tattered book when he heard a canid howl, far off into the night. He saw the grasslands far away from Skrallingdjar’s walls, but upside down. And when he looked at himself he wondered how the hell he spent all this time reading, subconsciously dangling from this watchtower, on his own tail.  No longer being enthralled by the verses brought him back to his senses. He was glad not to be completely under this ‘Only True God’s’’ control. He climbed back onto the railing of the tower, and breathed in the cold night air. 

‘’Well then, I best better get back before the sun comes up. The others need to know this.’’ When he closed the book down, it disintegrated like the first one did, and only a pile of dust was left which gathered on the ground below. Padlock thought of wether or not to go down yet, for he saw close to him the walls he could walk on, and another, taller tower.  ‘’A couple more minutes of rest couldn’t hurt.’’ He thought to himself, as he once more turned into the leathery bat-like beast with the horns, flying to the tallest tower in Skrallingdjar, which overlooked the entire city. Padlock could see where he and his friends had come from here: The city gates. He saw the hill this city was built against, its height nearly aligning with the crumbled temple up top. He even saw the library from here. Which was good, for now he had an advantage point. He leaned back against what was left of the tower, taking a couple of deep breaths and watching the smoke cloud out of his mouth. He laughed as he couldn’t help but remember the times he had overlooked a bustling, living city like this, when he was still a thief. Memories bubbled up, but were still stuck under a ooze-like layer of forgetfulness. But that wasn’t important now. Other things needed to come first before he could go back to that, if ever.  He had come far. Now to go even further.

Padlock silently stared ahead into the night, waiting for the morning.

[renaroo]

Recovery None (60/61)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typically violence, Psychological torture & manipulation, Mentions of gore, Character death, Minor Sexual content Pairings: Yorkalina, Chex, Sisouth Rating: T Synopsis: [Canon Divergence AU] When the Mother of Invention crashed, Project Freelancer was in shambles, its surviving agents scattered, its equipment stolen, and an impending investigation into the crash from the UNSC was on the horizon. To regain control of the deeply corrupted program, the Director established a new unit from his remaining supplies – the Recovery Unit.

Three former Freelancers were chosen for particular tasks: Zero is to hunt down and destroy the Meta, One is to investigate and recover stolen or missing equipment, and Two is to take down AWOL former agents.

Of course, no one’s motivations are what they seem…

A/N: I am... I’m not sure how to feel considering that we’re a single chapter away from it just being done for good and that’s... wow this is literally the largest thing I have ever written to completion in my life and I’m just... really grateful for everyone who has come on this journey with me because I know it’s been a very very wild ride at the times, had its ups and downs, but it means a lot to have had all of you traveling that road with me. I hope I do you all justice as we wrap things up. And, who knows, I think I have a few surprises still in store for you who think you know how this all ends ; ) 

Special thanks to @secretlystephaniebrown, @notatroll7, @analiarvb, @xhauntedangel, @washingtonstub, @every-survival, @icefrozenover, Yin, and irismon for the feedback!

Recovery Two XVIII: The Party Don’t Stop

South honestly had no idea what she was to expect on the other side of the transporter’s green flash and nauseating sense of repositioning. But she really could have predicted almost anything other than the Red nerd running face first into her chest plate. 

“Ow!” he whined, hitting the snow.

Theta popped up over South’s shoulder and tilted his head at the Red. “You should really watch where you’re going.”

Annoyed, South put a fist into the palm of her hand. “Or he was just volunteering to be the first thing I punched while I was here, which would be very kind of him,” South answered threateningly. 

Humming, Theta looked toward the Red almost sympathetically. “You could always apologize. I’ll put a good word in for you.” 

“Ah! You’re the bodyguard! This is great!” he said, scrambling back to his feet. “Don’t tell the others that I ran into you. Just let them think I contacted you. I honestly had no idea how I was going to do that anyway, but Washington is really scary when he wants something done.”

Lowering her hands, South looked incredulously at the simulation trooper. “You’re intimidated by Wash? What the fuck kind of soldier is intimidated by Wash?”

“One who doesn’t want to get shot?” he replied. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he kind of really hates people in Red armor. I’m in maroon armor. It’s the second most Red armor of the team. I basically have a target on me. Which isn’t supposed to happen because it’s not like I’m Grif!” 

A bit alarmed, Theta put a hand over his mouth. “Oh no! Why is there a target on Kaikaina?” 

“Who?” the trooper replied. 

“You mean her brother, I’d hope,” South said warningly. “Especially since I am her bodyguard and all. Wouldn’t really appreciate people threatening my protectorate.” 

Theta glanced at her sidelong. “That’s not what that word means.”

“Shut up,” South said before could even finish. 

“Okay, how many of the floating holographic guys are there?” Simmons finally asked. “That one dude that everyone’s freaking out about already has, like, at least half a dozen.”

“What?” South asked, looking at him seriously. “What new white guy!?”

Simmons’ head tilted even further. “The... one who isn’t the Wyoming guy trying to kill us?”

South’s eyes narrowed and Theta throbbed uneasily in her head. “Is this white guy also trying to kill you even though he isn’t Wyoming?” she asked seriously.

“Well, I thought that went without saying these days,” Simmons shrugged. “I mean... who have we met in the past week who hasn’t been trying unreasonably hard to kill us?”

Looking back toward the teleporter, South cracked her neck from side to side. “That means it can only be one person,” she said resolutely.

“Yep,” Theta nodded along with her.

Looking less than convinced, Simmons glanced between the two of them. “Really? You think it can only be one other guy on the whole planet who’s wearing white armor? What is it with you Freelancer guys?”

“It’s the guy who killed my brother, asswipe, show some respect!” South snapped at him. “Pretty damn sure he’s the other guy in white armor who is trying extraordinarily hard to be a pain in my ass and kill us all for AI and enhancements.”

Shocked, Simmons raised up his hands defensively. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I didn’t know about the brother thing! Jesus. Everyone’s randomly revealing siblings and babies and craziness today!”

“Crazy...” South trailed off. “You haven’t seen crazy yet today,” she announced before grabbing Simmons by his chest plate’s strap and pulling him up to her. “Alright, asshole. You run back to the others and tell them I’m bringing you some backup you sure as hell probably don’t deserve. And you tell them that if anyone is killing this bastard it’s going to be me, got it?” 

Visibly shaken, Simmons looked side to side for help that wasn’t anywhere to be found. “I-I think I can remember that? Maybe not all of that... would you be okay with some paraphrasing?”

“No,” South snapped.

“Then let me write it down!” Simmons begged.

“Oh my god we’re wasting time talking,” South groaned. 

“Yeah, it’s all we know how to do, maybe you all should try it more,” Simmons offered before South pushed him to the snow. 

“Go hold off the Meta with the others. I’ll be coming with reinforcements.”

“Can I just tell everyone that part instead?” Simmons asked, but South was officially done listening to him.

"Just do what I said or I’ll punch you,” South warned as she headed back toward the bright green light of the teleporter.” Just as she began to step through, she could hear the rustling of the snow behind her as Simmons walked off. 

“Man you sound just like Tex,” he sighed.

A subconscious twitch came to South’s eye and she nearly turned around to question that statement, but she was already far enough into the teleportation field that she found herself whirling through space and landing in the confusing annoyance that was the box canyon from earlier.

And despite everything, Kaikaina and her brother were still sitting on the same ledge where she had left them. Except the turquoise one from the Horrific Incident That Shall Not Be Named was behind them. 

“Oh wow, did you kick ass that fast? You’re, like, the best fake bodyguard ever!” Kai exclaimed.

“Or the worst,” Grif said, looking South up and down. “That was too fast. She definitely ran away from the fight. Everyone we know is probably dead already.”

“Oh, like you’d do anything different,” the turquoise one said with a flick of his wrist. 

“I didn’t say I’d do anything different. I think it’s the smartest fucking thing any of these Freelancer assholes have done since they met us,” Grif announced before looking back toward South. “Congratulations. Hope you enjoy the good life with the rest of us survivors.”

South leered. “I did not come here because I was running. I came back here because circumstances have changed. I need equipment, and I need men.”

“Ah, fuck, I was hitting on you this whole time, too,” Kai groaned. “Can you settle for a strap on?”

“Wait what?” Grif said immediately.

The turquoise one turned so quickly on his heels he nearly toppled over. Though he then tried to make it work for him (it didn’t) by leaning back against a pillar and giving South two finger guns. “Helloooo. My name’s Lavernius Tucker. Single father. Lover. And love doctor.”

South stared at him. “I saw an alien burst out of your stomach, like, two hours ago.”

“Yeah, I mentioned the single father line already,” Tucker replied casually.

“You know what, I honestly don’t care,” South said flatly before looking around. “Where’s Four Seven Niner and that tank? And I saw a M12 ATV parked in front of the Red Base earlier. I’ll take that, too. We’ll need all of it and anything you might’ve hidden away in the respective armories of this purgatory of canyon.”

"Wow, they really must teach you Freelancers something special. It took me at least a week before I realized that this canyon is literally the first footstep into Hell,” Grif said flatly.

“Uh, if you mean Sheila and her new lady friend who totally doesn’t seem down with babysitting when Doc asked to take turns, they’re down there. On the ground. Where the giant tank is,” Tucker announced with a thumb toward the edge of the base.

“Are you talking about the alien? Why is that thing not dead yet?” South asked.

Theta appeared and shook his head. “South, that’s rude.”

“Yeah, we don’t shoot dogs!” Kai snapped.

“Dude! I told you, that’s my kid!” Tucker snapped at her.

“Wow, your kid looks just like a dog,” Kai replied.

“Smooth,” Grif snarked. 

“Where’s the ATV?” South asked, while nearing the edge of the base to leap off. 

“Are you talking about the Warthog?” Grif asked. “Which, of course, would be stupid if it was named absolutely anything else.”

“I’m not in on your inside jokes and I don’t care for your attitudes,” South snapped, looking over her shoulder. “I need weapons and I need men to shoot those weapons. Or. Better yet, to just shoot them myself. So are you going to offer me any of that besides the first two?”

“Lady,” Grif said plainly, “inside jokes and attitude is literally the only thing that this canyon can’t take out of my cold, dead hands.”

“Fair enough,” South said before dropping down to the ground below the base. 

Theta hummed with curiosity, fireworks going off behind his avatar. 

“What is it?” South asked without giving him a full glance.

“You ever notice that these people don’t seem too curious about the fact that you have an AI?” he asked. “It’s kinda weird. But I do guess they have a talking tank.”

“Theta, I literally could not care less about the inconsistencies with this box canyon,” South said with a shake of her head. “There’s a much bigger story to keep our eyes on. Like. Surviving. And. Conspiracies with large military industrial complexes.”

“Yeah, but the canyon part does leave more room for creativity,” Theta attempted to argue.

“And the embodiment of creativity killed North, so I think we should stop extrapolating and get back to work,” South said, standing in front of a giant Scorpion canyon that slowly turned its main canon toward her and Theta. “Fuck. Didn’t think this through.”

"South?” Niner’s familiar voice called from the tank. 

While South concentrated on the tank, she watched in her peripheral vision as the driver door lifted up and Niner arched over the edge enough to get a good look at South. 

“Yeah, hi,” South said, glancing toward Niner before warily reconcentrating on the tank. “Are you going to shoot me? Because a lot of people from the past lately seem pretty intent on that so I’d like some formal heads up.”

“I don’t feel like shooting you today, I’m just glad you’re alive,” Niner replied. “I was told otherwise.”

“Funny how that keeps being the case for everybody,” South said stiffly. “Unfortunately, North is dead. For real. You can ask my AI if you don’t trust me. Them supposedly not being able to lie and whatnot.”

“I’m increasingly doubting that’s the case the more I have to deal with the tiny assholes,” Niner announced. She nodded toward Theta. “Present company excluded.”

“Um, thanks?” Theta shrugged back. 

“North being dead means I’ve got scores to settle, too,” South continued to explain. “Tons of them. And I’d like to take your tank to help in that endeavor since the one who killed North happens to be the Meta.”

That seemed to take Niner by complete shock. “You know about the Meta?”

“I know to my former employer, his capture was more important than my life,” South replied. “So, what do you say? Drive a tank to victory for me?”

“Excuse me,” the tank piped up. “I do believe that this is something you should be asking me for.”

“You’re right,” Theta answered, projecting closer to the tank. “Please?”

“Oh what a delightful fellow construct! I would absolutely love to be of assistance! Especially if it involves shooting Freelancers,” the tank said happily.

“Great,” South said, sidestepping away from the tank’s canon only to have it follow. “You two head over to the teleporter and I’ll go get my transportation.”

“Teleporter?” Niner asked before turning to glance up at Blue Base. “You mean that fucking thing? How the hell are we supposed to get Sheila in there? It’s too small of a hole--”

“WAAAAAIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTT!!!” a primal scream came from the base, causing all three to turn and face the ramp as Tucker came barreling down it. He ran the entire way, a small dark skinned, alien creature in hot pursuit. They both stopped just short of the three women and Tucker grabbed his knees, breathing hard. “Okay. Ready.” He stood back up and fired shotgun fingers at the three of them. “Baby, no hole’s too small, we can make it work.”

South glared at him. “I’m going to shoot you now.”

“Wait,” Niner said, holding up her hand. “Alien-baby-dude? Are you saying your dick’s small enough for any hole?”

Almost immediately, Tucker went rigid. “What!? No! I--”

“Bow chicka honk honk!” the alien creature cooed. 

"Aw, that’s adorable,” South joined in snarkily. “I think I might’ve given men a chance if more of them took pride in their small dicks.”

Niner snorted and banged on the side of the tank as Sheila’s canon nodded up and down with an “Oh my.”

“Hey, is that anyway to talk in front of a newborn?” Tucker demanded, throwing a thumb in the alien’s direction. It honked in response. 

“Okay, this has gotten supremely stupid,” South determined before pushing forward. “Niner, you and the tank get ready. We’re going to expand that portal hole and I’m going to grab the--” South stopped as well as the others did when there was something loud playing in the distance, echoing off the canyon walls. “Is... Is that polka music?” 

There was an exuberant scream as the ATV South had taken notice of before came flying over a hill and bounced into a landing, turning widely to circle back around and face them all. Three people were already in it.

“Fucking yes! Do it again! I love the vibration from the motor when we jump,” Kai shouted from the passenger seat, hitting on the dashboard. “I think it’s because they say I have an extra large clit.”

“Kai, shut up,” Grif said from the driver’s seat before pausing and turning to more directly face his sister. “Wait what.”

“As a physician who just performed her physical, I can attest to that statement,” the purple armored man in the back said before giving an evil laugh that almost sounded to South like it had to make his throat hurt. “Of course the best part of this was knowing that every excruciating detail of her physical would be used as supposed preexisting conditions and penalize her for any medical insurance. Bwahaha.”

“Pfft, lived this long without any,” Kai said flippantly, waving her hand. “Bring it on, Mister Hyde.”

“What are you doing?” South demanded, “I need that vehicle to take with us to get revenge for my brother. None of you have any stake in that.”

“Lady, you ain’t kidding,” Grif replied with a snort. “But my asshole teammates are out there and... Well, if something could kill a Freelancer, obviously they’re pretty fucked without my skills as the handy getaway driver.”

“Dude, whatever, you seen Wash?” Tucker asked. “He gets a new bullet hole in him on the hour. As far as I can tell, we avoid death way better than any of these elitist fuckers. I mean. Who’ve we lost so far that hasn’t come back to life? Even Sarge survived a shot to the head.”

“Hey! He survived that because of my mouth to mouth!” Grif proclaimed. “Even Doc said so!”

It took a moment for the commotion that was everyone talking over one another to fully sink in for South, and even once it had, she wasn’t sure she fully believed what her own ears were hearing. Her eyes sharply shifted between the group gathered around the enormous tank and the group gathered around the so-called Warthog.

“You -- all of you -- want to come with me and do this? What the hell for?” she demanded. 

“Uh, not for you? I just explained the thing about being the getaway driver,” Grif replied. 

“I have to work off this baby weight,” Tucker shrugged. 

“I’ve got to go where my bodyguard’s heading, where else is she supposed to protect me? Fuck, you suck at this job,” Kai joked. 

“There’s a possibility that there will be severe injuries that might need treated,” Doc spoke up. “I mean, I’ve not saved anyone yet, but who’s to say I can’t in the future!” He then let out another low laugh. “Or simply watch my enemies’ inevitable demise!”

“Yeah, swelling with confidence with that one around,” Niner snarked. “I’m going because I owe it... I owe it to Carolina, York, Wash... and you, South. I owe it to you to not let you go in there without a giant ass tank behind you.”

“I might finally learn what happened to Lopez if I follow,” Sheila announced. “I do worry about him. It seems like so much has happened outside of the canyon. And he has never returned my calls.”

South scowled. It was the same as always, everyone was working toward their own ends. 

Theta appeared over her shoulder and looked at her quietly. “People can work for multiple reasons, South. We’ve just gotta trust we all want the same thing.”

Glaring back at him, South shook her head. “And where I am I supposed to get confidence about that being the case for everyone else? I don’t trust anyone.”

“Gotta learn to try to,” Theta offered. “Just like I learned to trust you.”

Swallowing, South looked away. Theta didn’t have to say the rest of that too true assessment. Just like she had learned to trust him, too.

“We’ve got to make that hole bigger,” South announced. “And gather as much shit as possible.”

“Bow chicka honk honk,” the alien cooed again.

“Fucking really, Tucker?” Grif asked critically.

“Dude, I didn’t teach him that, it’s genetic,” Tucker replied.

“I already hate everything about this,” South lied under her breath.

...

In truth, South was not sure how they managed it. But the fact that Niner was somehow able to pout about the fact that they wouldn’t try to fit her pelican in, too, was almost enough to make the disbelief wear off. 

South stood on the back of the Warthog and gave everyone warning looks. “I don’t care what everyone’s goal is once we get to the other side--”

“If we get on the other side,” Tucker called from his seat on the tank with the tiny alien in his lap. “Just saying, every time I’ve been through the thing it’s been fucked.”

“The thing I care about,” South continued, unfazed, “is that the creep in the white armor is mine.”

“I thought there were two creeps in white armor,” Doc called out from beside her.

“Then they’re both mine. Just in case,” South snapped. “We ready?”

“No,” Grif said at the same time Kai exuberantly smacked the dashboard screaming, “Yes!” 

South’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head. This was going to be a disaster.

Just a little trust, Theta reminded her, as if they were in a goddamn Disney movie. 

“That’s it we’re going through,” South warned, getting in position. “Grif, make this as fast as you fucking can, hopefully the teleporter will collapse after we all get through to the right location.”

“Yeah,” Grif said, revving his engine before hesitating. “Wait what? What the fuck?”

“GO!” Kaikaina screamed, reaching her leg over the gear stick in order to slam her boot down on her brother’s, sending them flying forward. 

There was a multitude of curses but the main objective was being achieved. South couldn’t help but continue to project the feeling that Kaikaina was, by far, her favorite of the weirdos she had discovered along with the other remaining Freelancers. 

It’s funny how everyone seems to like these guys, Theta said in her mind. They’re the complete opposite of Freelancer.

That’s enough for me to like just about anyone, South answered firmly just before they launched through the staticky green light ahead of them and began to once more break apart, molecule by molecule, and form on the other side. 

There was a moment longer than the usual transporter jump where South briefly felt her heart stop and her mind wonder into the sort of territory that was remotely this was the dumbest way I could have died after all of that. But the blinding green light exploded into a world of white and distant colored hues and her ears popped with the explosion of it all. 

And surely enough, her entire body bounced with the Warthog as they hit the snowbank directly in front of them and, immediately, stopped their momentum completely. 

South glared forward before looking down to the Grif siblings. “Did you just get us stuck in the snow? Three seconds after we got here? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Hey, I have a very firm rule about backseat driving!” Grif snapped back, throwing the Warthog into reverse and revving the engine in an attempt to pull them out.

“Whoo! Element of surprise!” Kai screamed.

Theta manifested over South’s shoulder and cleared his throat. “Um, South?” he called quietly, pointing in the distance as a hulking white figure approached them. 

There was only one glance South needed to know who was coming their way. “Motherfucker,” she snarled, pushing Doc out of the way and taking command of the gatling gun. 

“Hey, I think that’s the white guy over there,” Kai stage whispered as Grif continued to try to back them out of the snowbank. “Grif! Grif! Tell me if I got the color right! It’s just like when we were kids! Only this time I won’t be asking you what color dicks are!”

“What!?” Grif cried out just before managing to get them out of the snow and slinging all of them around. 

Barely managing to hold on, South shot the gatling gun toward the sky instead of at her target, causing a string of curses to escape her that Theta fled back into the recesses of her implants in fear. 

Doc wasn’t so lucky and ended up face first in the very snowbank they had managed to only narrowly escape. 

“Hey!” Grif shouted back at South. “Is that the guy trying to kill everyone? The one with the stupid helmet?” 

“Yes!” South yelled back.

“Sweet!” Kai called out before slamming her foot down on her brother’s again to send them flying toward the Meta, Grif yowling in pain in the process. 

Before South could even think twice, the Warthog lunged forward aimed directly at the Meta. The move itself seemed to take everyone by surprise as a few colorful sim troopers all but leapt out of the way as the vehicle hit its mark and went cruising toward the wrecked Mother of Invention. 

The Meta slammed against the hood of the Warthog, roaring and snarling as it scratched at the metal and reached for the front window. Which caused the two Grifs to scream harmoniously.

Seeing the golden opportunity approaching, South pulled her brother’s rifle out from over her shoulder. “Duck!” she screamed at the Grifs. 

“Okay!” Kai cried as she did so.

“Why!?” Grif yelled just before South took her shot through the window. “Jesus christ!” 

Theta appeared right over South’s shoulder as the chest plate of the Meta burst open with the intensity of the armor piercing bullet. He glanced toward her, a readout of the energy signatures from the Meta flying across South’s visor. 

“That cut a major power supply, but his bioscans are still off the chart, I think he has a suped up healing unit that’s repairing his chest cavity,” Theta explained. 

“How is that possible?” South demanded, reloading. 

“I don’t know, if they have enough AI they can probably assign one to each task,” Theta announced. “Impact three... two...”

For reasons she could not explain in the moment, South grabbed Kai’s back plating, kicked the girl’s brother out into the snow, and then leaped with Kai in tow off of the Warthog just before it slammed, Meta in tow, into the side of the Mother of Invention. 

South hit the snow shoulder first and rolled with Kai, protectively shielding her as the Meta roared and attempted to--

The Warthog was almost hitting the siding of the ship but the Meta was beneath it, dropping to the snow under the Warthog and saving itself from damage as the vehicle crashed above him.

“What the fuck!?” York’s all too familiar voice called out from the other side of the snowy clearing. “Did anyone else just see that!? Seriously, did anyone--”

“It has the time distorter!” Carolina yelled. “It was Wyoming’s unit.” 

Angrily, South looked over to them all, watching as the other Reds gathered around Grif and helped him up. Tex was standing not too far from them with a Blue and some other Blue slung over her shoulder. 

“Does no one besides my brother know how to stay fucking dead!?” South screamed out.

As South got to her feet, helping Kai up in the process, Washington led the others to a tighter formation toward them, they were all still surrounding the Meta who was rolling out from underneath the wrecked Warthog. 

“We need to stop him,” Wash growled out. “Suggestions?”

“I was the one tasked with stopping him, but Niner ran as my second pair of eyes,” Carolina informed them all. “I never managed to fully complete the mission for a number of reasons. One of them being that he’s just too damn creative with how he’s using all of the stolen enhancements.”

“Someone say my name?” Niner’s voice crackled over the radio, turning all heads toward the transporter where, at long last, the tank and its occupants got through. “You would not believe the bumpy ride we just had!”

“Niner!” Carolina yelled out in relief.

“Can you fucking blow the Meta to the sky?” South demanded. 

“Wow, that’s the quickest I have ever seen someone resort to a Plan B in the history of ever,” Niner scoffed while Sheila took aim with her cannon. 

“Wait! It has a dome shield!” Washington yelled out, close proximity causing everyone close to him to flinch back. “Any explosion will bounce off and hit the rest of us!”

“Why the fuck are you screaming, you idiot? Turn your radio on,” South snapped.

“Dude, don’t call Wash an idiot!” Tucker called, leaping down from the tank, the alien creature sitting on his shoulders. “Everyone who doesn’t have their radios off right now is a fucking idiot. If this thing is super powerful because it has a bunch of AI, and Omega’s big deal was that he hopped around using our radio signals, then anyone not turning off their radio is like a huge fucking liability right now!”

Everyone stared at Tucker.

“What the fuck is that?” Washington said, breaking the momentary silence. 

“What the fuck is what?” Tucker asked while the alien chewed on his helmet. “Oh, you mean Junior? Yeah, I guess you all missed it! This is Junior, I just gave birth to him.”

“No,” Grif growled. “Unfortunately we didn’t miss it.”

“It was like a pro-abortion commercial,” Kai explained to the others. “I’ve never been more confident in my life choices like ever.”

South blinked. “Wait, what?”

"Wait! Everyone shut up!” a screechy voice South had never heard before demanded.

When she looked toward it, however, South found herself starring down an all too familiar armor. Tex was approaching from the flank and somehow that voice was coming from her as she continued to hold the Blue over her shoulder. 

“Church--” Tex began only for a bright white light to shine over her shoulder. “Goddammit. We’re not even going to discuss this. You little fucker--”

“Hey!” the white light called before forming a sprite not at all dissimilar from the kinds that many of the Freelancer AIs wore. “You fucks are in trouble. Look who’s got their radio on.”

Theta all but gasped through South’s own mouth, making her step back in shock. “The Alpha!” he cried out.

No sooner had he said it than Maine’s body stood rigid, a multitude of AI swarming around his domelike head. Chants of Alpha Alpha Alpha echoed eerily from it. 

“Goddammit, Church!” Tex snarled just before she dropped the Blue’s body and held up her fists. “Alright, assholes. You want some? You’ve gotta come get some.”

All at once, the circling AI came together in a flurry of light and obnoxious humming that sent everyone with their radios on reflexively flinching back, including South. She grabbed at the edges of her helmet and dropped to her knee, feeling like Theta was going to vibrate right through her skull. 

“Theta!” she growled.

Then, as soon as it started, the AI disappeared and Maine dropped to his knees as well, letting out a guttural noise just before having to support himself with one fist through the snow. 

Washington was the first to turn toward Tex, looking mortified. “Tex!?” 

“Oh, fuck!” Tucker cried out. “Tex!? Church!?”

“Tucker,” Tex gritted out. “Remember how you put this body together?” she demanded. “Remember where all the important power pieces are?” 

Tucker looked at her confusedly before suddenly igniting a bright plasma sword right before everyone’s eyes. “Yeah...?”

South looked over the simulation troopers and then went back to staring at the sword in Tucker’s hands. “Who the fuck are you people!?” she found herself thinking out loud. 

"You’re going to need to use that to dismantle me as quick as possible,” Tex informed him.

“What the fuck,” Tucker said for everyone.

“This just got heavy,” York muttered loudly.

“We could have simply let the Blues tear each other apart this whole time!? How could we have not used this foolproof plan before now?” Sarge howled. “Surely it is somehow Grif’s fault.”

“What are you talking about? They’ve literally been killing each other since the start,” Grif pointed out. “Except for that time Donut killed Tex.”

“Thanks for the shoutout!” Donut called from the safety of the tank.

“But... But what about Church?” the large Blue asked, picking up the limp body that Tex had dropped. “I don’t want you to be in pieces either, Tex. I’d like us all to just go home now. Together. Minus Tucker.”

“Goddammit, you guys, don’t you trust me!?” Tex roared. “Take me apart and take me apart right the fuck now before these bastards get control over us!”

Everyone was still stunned into silence when South lifted North’s sniper rifle, aimed for Tex’s head and fired a shot right in the middle of everyone, eliciting more than a few screams. 

“I told you,” she said coldly to everyone around her, “I called dibs on the one who killed my brother.”

“Holy shit, you’re a badass,” Kai laughed.

“Church! Tex!” Tucker and Wash cried out, nearing the body laying in the snow, sparking from the top of its shoulders. 

“Tucker, you fucking idiot, we told you to start tearing us apart!” 

Everyone let out a confused ‘huh’ and looked over toward the tall Blue holding the limp Blue’s body. Except it wasn’t limp anymore and instead was shoving against the hulking Blue’s chest. 

“Goddammit, Caboose, let go of me!” the Blue demanded. Then, in Tex’s voice, “Luckily, I’m aware enough of our surroundings to figure some asshole here would do the hard part and jumped us just before things went whammy. Now, Tucker, tear that body into pieces so that the AI stuck in it don’t get any grand ideas about using any of the hundreds of weapons I’ve got stored away in there.”

Washington looked at Tex with a tilt of his helmet. “That seems like a bit of an exaggeration.”

"No one asked you, Wash,” both voices snapped simultaneously.

“Alright, alright, I get it, my three hours of tinkering means I have to now take you apart. Jesus. I’d never have agreed to that if I knew it was going to come back and bite me in the ass,” Tucker groaned, setting the alien on his shoulders back on the ground then nearing the black armored body. “C’mon, Junior, I’ll show you what it’s like to play with Legos. Except human body parts sized.”

South stared at the scene with a strange, discomforting quiet. Her mouth pressed tightly to a thin line as she stared at them all. 

“Hey,” Kai called, approaching her side. “You shot her head off! Good on you. You feel better?”

Theta stayed quiet, and despite wanting to join him, something compelled South to answer. 

“Not at all,” she answered. “There... There are a lot of people I’d like to see pay before I’m going to feel good about anything relating to Freelancer.”

There was an ominous silence shared by the fellow survivors around her. 

“Cool,” Kai said. “What’s Freelancer?”

Before there could truly be an answer to the most ridiculous but reasonable questions South had ever been asked in her life, there was a horrible roaring from Maine. It was a primal, hateful sound that was full of malice as he charged. But just before anyone could react, the tank came rolling down the hill, comically snatching Maine out of his position before ultimately coming to a stop with him grasping and clawing to no avail under the tank’s treads. 

“He is much tougher than he looks!” the tank’s AI complimented. 

Niner popped out from the cockpit and shrugged. “Seemed like a shame to bring a tank and not use it.”

“I have the same saying about big guns,” Donut said cheerily from his perch. 

“Okay, but what are we supposed to with that thing now?” Simmons asked, pointing toward Maine. “I mean... we probably shouldn’t have someone dissect it with a sword.”

“Absolutely not!” Carolina snapped. “Besides, Tex and I saw from the ship, there are UNSC investigators on their way here. We just need to hold Maine and get our story straight.”

“It won’t matter what the story is,” South snorted, shaking her head at the naivety. “Don’t know what wonderful dreamworld you all live in, but I happen to know for a fact that the UNSC is going to come here looking for someone to blame. And Freelancers seem pretty high on the top of that list of good scapegoats, don’t they? Steal our armors, take our enhancements, put us on trial, lock us up, shut us up. Or maybe offer some of you a deal to work for them indefinitely on suicide missions. Been there. Done that. It fucking sucks, just for reference.”

York crossed his arms. “Anyone ever tell you that professing to a history of backstabbing and double crossing isn’t the greatest reflection of someone’s character?” 

“Anyone ever tell you that I haven’t wanted anything more than to spend the rest of my life punching you in the dick?” South demanded. 

“Everyone stop,” Carolina spoke up, holding up her hands. 

“Sure thing, Boss,” Wash said all too easily.

“No. No sure thing, Boss,” South growled out. “You’re not a leader anymore, Carolina, because we’re not a team. We never were.”

“God, these guys have so many fucking issues,” Grif bemoaned. 

“I may not be a leader,” Carolina agreed, “but I have information that might save all of us once the UNSC is here wanting to arrest us all. And it’s only going to work if some of us can get our shit together and actually work together to make sure he doesn’t get away.”

“He?” South and Wash echoed at the same time. 

“The Director is inside the Mother of Invention,” Carolina explained. “And we’re going to make sure he stays that way.”

The three of them looked at each other, then to the crowd of miscreants that had all gathered together for the colossal mess that had been the last fifteen minutes.

But only Kai was looking South’s way. 

“That one of the people you need to cross off to feel better?” she asked genuinely.

South thought about it and exhaled firmly through her nose. “Yeah,” she said lowly. “Yeah, it is.” She looked warily toward Carolina and Washington. “Why the three of us?”

“Because, we’re all Recovery Agents,” Carolina announced, somewhat surprising South and utterly flooring Washington by the looks of it. “And he’s the last piece of this puzzle we need to recover.”

“Go on,” York said, walking toward them. “I’ll help everyone hold down the fort and slow the UNSC when they get here. I’m good at talking things over,” he reminded them. 

“According to who?” South asked skeptically. “Nevermind, I don’t even have the attention span for mocking you right now. I want to kick the Director’s ass. Maybe shoot him.”

“We need him alive,” Carolina argued firmly.

“There are nonlethal ways to shoot people,” Wash said darkly.

“See, Wash gets it,” South said, leading the walk toward the Mother of Invention. “And I’m more than ready for this all to be over.”