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clatoera · 1 year ago

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Always Remember We're Burned for Better Chapter 17: What Doesn't Kill Me Makes Me Want You More

Heeeeey guys. I feel like I apologize a lot for delays. Full transparency is that as we enter the final act of this fic we are also entering my application season. Things are going to be irregular until October when my apps are submitted. At the same time I expect thats when I'll be starting the sequel so! Exciting things ahead! Thank you for your patience and understanding and love. I appreciate and love every one of you.

I quite literally went on a mission to revisit every thing Jack Quaid has ever done to get an idea of how I wanted Marvel to sound. I'm posting this 26 minutes before I see oppenheimer the third time.

The title is from Cruel Summer (tswift)

AO3

Masterpost

As always, thank you to my friends. @ohhowwehavefallen who quite literally is the reason for the very last scene. IT was her. Give her credit for it existing. @kentwells for literally letting me bounce EVERY idea off them (I literally the other day said I just want people to be happy and had to be reminded I cause the suffering), and @crookedlyniceperson who keeps me going with the thought of memes.

Thank you as we enter this last segment of chapters, where we end the war and start the rest of their lives.

“Do they ever stop looking at you like you killed their dog?” Johanna is the one who asks, glancing around half heartedly at the dozens of wary stares being sent their way at any given moment.

In perfect, offhanded unison, Cato and Glimmer give a resigned “No.”

They had grown used to it. The distrustful looks, the pitiful side glancing, but frankly there was not as much fear or respect one would think these once great victors would garner.

Then again, they were quite a sight to behold these days.

Johanna, with hair like a peach fuzz and various track marks from IV after IV for that Morphling hit.

Clove, who had flayed more than one man alive on television, with skin like violets and nightlock berries from her neck down, bruises blossoming on every inch of that pale canvas.

Cato and Glimmer, who they had long since deemed as crazy and unstable, but now less of a threat with the return of the carrot they had dangled on the stick before them.

Really, the only one who even resembled his old self was Marvel. And what threat was he, anyway?

Finnick did not grace them with his presence, nor did Annie, as they were playing peacekeepers between Katniss and Peeta across the room after his attempt on her life not all that many weeks ago. After all, someone had to keep Miss girl on fire’s embers glowing. Without the supervision of Finnick, Gale likely would have taken Peeta out by now just for his own opportunity to get ahead in the name of protecting Katniss.

“We kinda did kill their dogs. Well. We killed their kids.” Glimmer reminds her, back to her earlier habits of pushing food around on a tray, slipping hard and fast into her old ways.

She sits directly next to Clove on the opposite side of Cato, across from Johanna. Next to Johanna is Marvel who still cannot look at her for longer than a second, so far as Glimmer knows at least.

It’s Clove, of course, who catches him looking when Glimmer is not.

“We didn’t kill their kids, they weren’t in the games.” Clove rolls her eyes, but stabs her blunt spork into the overly-cooked but under-seasoned green beans. She couldn’t even raise her shoulder parallel to the floor, but they were still unwilling to give her (or Cato, for that matter) a knife. At least someone in this godforsaken place was still scared of her and didn’t see her like a bird with a broken wing. “The twelves mostly finished themselves off every year anyway- for fucks sake would it kill someone to get some salt down here?”

“I would commit a literal war crime for a pizza right now.” Marvel admits, and the tone of his voice sounds like maybe he’s only half joking, that maybe he really would dig a knife into the president of District 13 in exchange for extra pepperoni.

When the eyes around them firmly land on him, and some of the armed guards tense and take a step forward he puts up a single, defeated hand. “I’m joking. I’m not here to take out the rebellion for a stuffed crust.” When the guards step back and the weary looks turn away, he does cock an eyebrow and gives a slight nod of his head. “Extra cheese on the other hand..”

Glimmer gives a quiet giggle, though she does not look up from the swirls she makes with the potatoes before her.

Cato actually laughs, though, in a way he had not in the many months of separation of him and Clove. It was like something in him had come back to life, and it clearly had something to do with the dark haired girl he currently had his arms draped around the shoulders of. “If you’re going to get us shot over pizza we may never have again, at least make it something good. At this point I’d lead this fucking war if it would get me back to a burger.” He gently nudges Clove, who is furiously attempting to stab at whatever they were trying to pass off as a balanced meal. “Come on. What do you miss?”

“What don’t I fucking miss? Our bed. Fabric softener. The use of my arms..” Clove starts to complain, but she looks up and catches the teasing shine in his blue eyes and can’t help but play along. “...half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the peanut butter half. And an orange. If we make it out of this, I never want to go a day without real fruit ever again.” She nudges at Glimmer’s knee with her own, before doing the same with her free shoulder. “What about you Glim Glam? What’s your death row choice here?”

How is she supposed to say, oh, nothing, I wasn’t allowed to enjoy food, the thought of eating makes me nauseous? How is she supposed to say that she isn’t quite sure there's anything out there in the world that she’s interested in these days. There’s a memory, though, of a night before Clove became victor officially, of late night snacks in a bed that was not her own but belonged to the man across from Cato. Back when there was still potential and love in her world, that little bit of good that she had had taken from her yet again.

“...those little cake slices, not cupcakes, but the individual slices so you can try the different flavors. They have them at the parties all the time. And maybe fries?” Glimmer smiles to herself at the memory of salt between bed sheets and frosting on the tips of noses. “And there was this pasta, with like…cheese sauce and It was so so good but I can’t remember what it was called but it was just so good I’d kill to have it again–”

“...mac’n’cheese. That’s what it’s called. You like it with the toasty little breadcrumbs on top of it.” Marvel finishes for her, briefly lifting his head and giving ever so slight of a nod. “I remember it from when-”

“Yeah. I do too.” Glimmer agrees, and is the one to break eye contact as she refocuses down at the scraps of borderline dog food they’re being fed.

A heavy, powerful silence falling over the table full of victors, a haze no one quite wants to break. Cato taps his thumb on Clove’s shoulder, and she settles into his side contently. Marvel clears his throat and looks around the room awkwardly, not quite focusing on any point or face in particular.

“...well!” Johanna announces, finally breaking through the silence that permeated their shared space. “I don’t know about you, but the first thing I want, is a fucking drink.”

—————

“Where’s Cato? I haven’t seen you two apart…actually at all, since you got back?” Glimmer invites herself to the foot of Clove’s bed, hands full of bed sheets and thread. “Off in that silly little meeting of boys?”

“Finnick showed up and practically begged him to go.” Clove confirms, pulling herself to a more proper sitting position and tucking her feet back to sit criss-crossed underneath her. “I don't know if it was actually a meeting or if he was just trying to make him go get his allotted thirty minutes of fresh air.” As she sits she tugs at the newly replaced IV in her hand, bringing forward the poll that was attached to the long bit of tubing in her hand, reminded of the inconvenience she thought she had escaped.

Glimmer reaches out a hand to brush over the back of Clove’s, immediately calling attention to the new intrusion. “Clove! I thought you were done with these?”

“Eh. A small setback. Turns out part of my lung just like..collapsed when I was trying to throw this morning. It was filled with blood, it got pretty nasty. I guess I still have some internal bleeding and bruising.” She pulls down the top of her hospital pajamas, showing the literal tubing coming out from below her clavicle, which is filled with fresh ruby blood. “Shoved this in me, the IV is for the pain. I don’t think I need it but–”

“Your lung collapsed. You have a literal piece of plastic sewed into your skin. And you don’t think you need the pain meds?” Glimmer cocks a blonde eyebrow, before mirroring Clove’s cross legged posture. “You’re stronger than anyone else I know, Clove. Stubborn, but strong nonetheless.”

She offers Clove a bit of thread and one of her stitching needles, along with the upper half of some shredded fabric. It had started off handedly– a story of how Clove used to stitch up Cato, how they had been taught in the academy and how she didn’t want to lose that skill too when people were here to baby her. Someone, Primrose Everdeen maybe, had suggested it may be a good therapeutic exercise for her to use the fine muscles and tendons in her hands, to work on stitching and maintain her fine motor skills.

Really, though, it was more of a therapy for Glimmer, who desperately needed to feel needed, who desperately needed a friend to distract her brain for a few hours a week.

It worked out for both of them.

“Any other injuries you wanna admit to, Clove?” Glimmer inquires, absentmindedly beginning to run a new type of fabric stitch on the opposite end of the fabric from Clove. “You know I have no one to tell.”

“Nope. Just the usual. Broken ribs. All my major joints are useless. A lung that gave out. Oh, some internal bleeding…” Clove tries not to reveal her frustration when she cannot thread the needle, cannot keep the intrinsic muscles of her head steady enough to connect the two pieces. The shaking of her right hand betrays her as she drops the needle, grip strength so diminished she can't even keep hold of it for long enough to throw an anchoring stitch in the fabric. Clove throws down the fabric in defeat, running her hand now over her face instead.

“But hey. My skin is coming back together. Just ugly fucking scars for the rest of my life–” Clove reveals the skin of her thigh to Glimmer, the puckering of stitches and the greenish-yellow hue of a bruise starting to dissolve under her skin. “Just fucking great, Glimmer. I’m just great.”

Glimmer drops the fabric, and immediately pushes up the sleeves of her District Thirteen issued henley shirt. Her own scars are not as angry red or freshly bruised, but rather a raised, pink granulated tissue in rivulettes from her elbows to right where her wrist meets her hand. “We all have scars now, Clove. No more magic Capitol tricks to take them away. I clawed my way out of handcuffs, using blood to lubricate my way out.. We all have scars now that we’re going to carry for the rest of our lives. You are alive. You have Cato. By all standards, you’re dong pretty fucking great compared with the other option here.”

Glimmer picks up the little fallen needle and wordlessly threads it for Clove, saying nothing nor expecting any gratitude from the other woman for the act. “You have Cato. Who will not leave your side, who shoves into a twin-sized hospital bed with you somehow–”

“We slept in a twin sized bed at the academy when we were sixteen until he won. We’re used to it, is all.”

“It’s still sweet. How he is so insistent on being near you all the time, all he thought about that whole time was you Clove, I’m shocked they even got him away from you now.”

“Yeah well.. I made him go with Finnick, too. It’s not good for him to sit here and treat me like a porcelain doll all the time. For either of us.” Clove takes Glimmer’s offering with no words of thanks, as the exchange would prove too embarrassing of a hit to Clove’s fragile confidence.

Her confidence being the only truly fragile thing about her, may she add.

“He sleeps with me and he is always touching me but it’s like he’s scared to touch me, you know?” Clove explains, hoping it is not too much information for what had become her closest friend. “He thinks I'm fragile.”

“He doesn’t think you’re fragile.” She nearly scoffs, giving a half hearted laugh. “He thinks you’re anything but. He just doesn’t want to hurt you.”

It’s Clove’s turn to scoff and laugh at that. “He has never given a fuck about hurting me. He broke my collarbone the day we met. After he won, he used to push me so hard at training that I couldn’t walk the hundred steps to my room at training. One time he picked me up by the throat and slammed me against a wall until I could escape myself. Our entire lives have been hurting each other–”

“Well you’re not the one getting choked against a wall now, are you?” Glimmer deflects, and a wicked smile floods Clove’s face at the realization of the lighthearted change in topic.

“I wish I were getting choked against a wall in a different way, you know?” Clove teases, laughing as they fall into a comfortable silence as they work on different types of stitching– human skin or low thread-count sheets.

“You know Marvel is going to come around, right?” Clove offers out of the blue, seemingly coming from nowhere with the topic change. “You said that all Cato thought about was me, well, that was him too. We shared a wall. Lots of conversations were had through six inches of concrete and all….he’ll come around. He just needs time to remember–”

“Clove, he won’t even look at me. He won’t come around, because he remembers it all just fine. Do you know what he said to me that day? That I used him, that he was just another client to me. He said that…that..that I just picked him because he was there! He doesn’t believe that I love him, Clove. He thinks I just..faked it all.” Glimmer catches the skin of her finger in her needle, and quickly brings the blood drop to her lips to staunch the bleeding. “I didn’t fake a thing. Not with him. He is the only person it was ever real with and I just- I just…I miss him.”

“He loves you too, Glimmer. He never stopped.”

“Yeah, well, he shows it just like every other man I’ve ever met, now.”

—————

“There's my favorite cellmate!” Marvel’s voice pops out, a goofy grin on his face as he lets himself right into her room.

“Let me guess, it’s your turn to babysit me?” Clove slams shut the book she had been reading, some silly novel from long before the dark days in a language that was English but also so much more complicated. The only type of enrichment activity she got these days was mental, it seems.

“Huh? No, no of course not, no...yeah, actually. Yeah. But! I came because I wanted to see you, not because It’s my turn to keep you supervised.”

Clove swings her legs over the side of the bed, placing her feet firmly on the ground before pushing herself to a standing position. She had quickly discovered if anyone was going to let her get away with something it was going to be Marvel– he was not going to keep her in bed with crafts or insist she not move too much at risk of re-angering an existing injury or worse, making a new one. Maybe it was because he had been there when she was at her absolute worst in the Capitol, right alongside her, but he didn’t quite treat her like her skin was made of glass. “Let me guess, another meeting of all the victors but us?”

“The privilege of being the special ones who got pulled out of the arena apparently comes with a security clearance.” Marvel shrugs, nodding his head enthusiastically towards the door. “Peeta bread down the hall is in therapy, Johanna went backwards today in terms of progress with water, and Annie is..well she’s Annie. Oh but us, we’re the big scary careers remember? We’re the little captiol plants, that's why they tried to kill you, makes it more believable you know?”

Clove hops off the bed and practically scurries towards the door, at the chance to escape her sterile prison at any slight opportunity that arises. As she gets closer to her chaperone she notices the permanent marker writing on his arm. “Look at you, you got slave to district thirteen privilege, what are you blowing off right now?”

“History of Nuclear Defense. It’s pretty cool, but I can’t look at that guy from twelve for more than fifteen minutes-”

“Well you are the one who threatened to stab him for cheesecake, Marvel.”

“I was kidding! Mostly!” Marvel gestures to the left to turn out of the hallway, the long way away from the fellow prison (hospital) cells of their friends and fellow victors. Other than Annie, he has had the hardest time accepting what has happened to them, and even more so why he was left without the physical scars of his friends. “Apparently Cato and Glimmer have both gone after him, I think our turn is long overdue.”

They take their government mandated stroll up and down the hall, back and forth, as they do any day that Marvel gets assigned Clove duty. It’s the most exercise anyone will let Clove have, the most autonomy, even.

“Have you heard anything about back home? Noone will tell me shit, and I don’t know if they don’t know or if they’re trying to spare my feelings like I'm a child who can’t handle the reality of war.” He half whispers, all too aware (and maybe even a little paranoid, after their time in the capitol) that someone is always listening for something even the littlest bit treasonous to slip their lips so they can be hung in the proverbial town square.

“Glimmer knows nothing about Gloss and Cashmere. They can’t tell me anything about Enobaria. I thought asking every day would break them but-” Clove gives half a shrug, kicking her feet along the concrete floors. “Noone can tell me anything about her. We don’t know about Brutus, either. All Cato wants to know is about his sister. I don’t think anyone knows. Or if they do, they’re keeping it from all of us.”

He doesn’t respond, just gives a nod at the reality of their situation. If anyone knows anything, it is well hidden from all of them. “You know, I’m not glad you’re still in the hospital, but I’m glad Cato sleeps with you, he’s supposed to be my roommate. We have fucking roommates, what is this, war boarding school? Between this and the classes, I feel like they left some gaps in our education in the districts. Who knew we should know how to do nuclear fission by eighteen.”

“I literally don’t even know what those words mean.” She half-laughs, shaking her head in disapproval. “Other than the games and then, you know, the capitol, I have barely spent a night away from him since we were sixteen. I think you’re safe to push the beds together to make yourself one big one, because he won’t be there anytime soon.”

Clove supposed that meant that Glimmer was meant to be her roommate when all was said and done. In another life, they probably would have switched in the dark of the night, Clove and Marvel or Glimmer and Cato, rearranging the sleeping arrangements in a way that would scandalize the upper-administration of thirteen and they would not have cared. All they would have cared about is having been together, at whatever cost. Things are different, now, though.

“You need to talk to her.”

“I don’t want to talk to her.”

“Marvel I do not know what they said to you in those last couple of days before we got out, but a week before all you wanted in the entire world was to see her again.” Clove reminds him in a voice that can only be described as lecturing. “All you have to do is talk to her, you’ll know she meant it all.”

“I just can’t get it out of my head, Clove. That all along she was just using me. Over and over and over again, I just hear them telling me that it never would have been me. Why would it be me?” His eyebrows are just slightly knit together, and there's a hesitation in his voice that Clove can recognize as doubt.

Doubt. The strongest force in the world, like a spell that needs no more than a drop to permeate every inch of your being, to consume you. To burn you to the ground.

“Because you’re you. And she’s her. And I’m Clove, and he’s Cato. It makes sense just because it does. Some things just…are. And this is one of them.” She has nothing better to say, because there is no stronger answer.

Somethings are just meant to be because they simply are.

They pace in a peaceful albeit tense silence, for about five more minutes before the overhead alarm signals to them that a change in activity will happen in exactly five minutes, and her other supervisors will return.

“...you know that Glimmer and Cato got to go to the armory, right?” Clove informs him with a heavy, heavy sigh. “Cato gets target practice and I’m barely allowed out of bed. How’s that fair? I’m going fucking crazy, Marvel.”

“You almost died, you psycho, I think they’re just being cautious. Besides, you were already crazy.”

“I’m not made of porcelain or glass or ceramics. I trained in the best training academy in the country for ten years, I won the fucking Hunger Games.” Clove slams her hand into the door, blocking their entrance back in. “Do you think I'm some little broken winged bird?”

“You don’t have to tell me that, Clove. I was there. I know what you survived. I wouldn’t have. I don’t think anyone else would have.” He gently nudges her hand out of the way so he can make sure she actually goes back to her room. “You know, it probably wouldn’t have been so bad if you had just given them the screams they wanted.”

Clove scoffs. “That's rule number one. Never show weakness. That gets you killed. And besides, I only scream for one person.” She gives him a playful nudge with her shoulder as she pushes past him.

Who would have thought. At one time she saw him as one of the most annoying victors she had ever met, and now, he was the only person treating her like she had her own two legs to stand on.

Damn. Maybe trauma bonding is real.

“I don’t need babysitting, you know, Marvel.”

“Trust me, I Know that. Convince everyone else.”

—————

“It’s okay, Clove, you’ll get it back–”

Clove lets out a frustrated scream, throwing the knife to the ground. Finally, finally, she had gotten a knife back in her hand in the training room, a moment she had been working toward for weeks. She had expected it to be muscle memory, truly her second nature, and come back to her as easily as it had back when she was five years old and threw for the first time.

Apparently muscles lose their memory when they are severed.

“No, Cato, it isn’t fucking okay!” She grabs another one of the knives– albeit not the best quality, but she cannot blame that. She could kill with a plastic butter knife, before– and as soon as she raises her arm she nearly drops the knife from the sharp pain that runs through her shoulder. “This is all I fucking have, this is all I am, and I can’t do it. I could do this when I was five.”

The couple of throws she had managed to succeed in executing failed in other ways, each three feet away from even hitting her target. A failure, by academy standards.

“Baby, this is not all you are.”

“How would you feel? If the only thing that has ever made you remarkable was just..gone? This is all I have, yes it is. This is as close as I’ve ever felt to my mother, who chose the games over me, this is the only thing that kept my grandmother choosing to keep me alive, the hope that i’d actually win. I was tiny and frail looking then but I was good. I was the best. This is all I have, Cato. This is all I am, and now I'm not.” Clove tries, again, to bring her arm past parallel with the floor, and the pain is nearly unbearable. She does not cry. She does not show it. But god, god does it hurt deep in her bones.

“If this is hurting you, you need to stop, Clove.” Stupid Cato. Stupid Cato and his ability to know even the slightest change in her face, to be able to notice even her slightest tells. “You just need time and that's okay.”

“And what the fuck got into YOU Cato? What the fuck is this ‘you need to stop’ shit?” Clove snaps, stepping forward to grab him by the center of his shirt, pulling him forward with a jerk of her arms. “What happened to the person who broke me, and ran me until I threw up, and never once, not a single time, took fucking pity on me? What happened to the person who wanted to make me a better tribute, who wanted to make me a better fucking victor even when we were going to kill each other? I’m not broken, Cato, don’t treat me like I am.”

Cato shakes his head, and drops his hands to his side, before very very gently grabbing her upper arms. “Clove, I don’t want to hurt you, it’s not worth it.”

“Oh since fucking when don’t you want to hurt me? Pick me up by the throat and make me fight my way out, Cato!” Clove practically begs, deep eyes searching his face in desperation, pleading for understanding,

“That was to make you survive, Clove, not fucking kill you.” He tries, gently tightening his grip on her arms. “This isn’t all you are, Clove, not anymore. Not ever.”

“Cato, stop! Treat me like your fucking partner. Treat me like me, Treat me like you’re Cato and I’m Clove and we have spent our entire lives making each other better. I am begging you, treat me like me.” Clove sees the hesitation in his face, in the way he looks from her eyes to her nose to avoid the desperation in her eyes, and knows she has him. She grabs his right hand and pushes it up to the top of her shoulder. “Brace my shoulder, and do NOT let it go. If I cry or scream. Do not let it go.”

Something snaps in Cato, or maybe something reawakens, but he gives a firm, hard squeeze at the junction of her arm and her shoulder, feeling the tendons separate and slip underneath his fingers. Clove’s legs nearly give out, and it takes all she has not to whine in the true agony at the feeling of her joints sliding over each other again. He does not let go, or loosen the grip he has on her swelling shoulder joints. Cato twists her in his arms, facing her out towards the targets. “Go. Throw.”

His other arm is wrapped around her waist, and holds her up as her legs beg to give out and bring her to the ground. As her throws hit closer and closer to the target, Cato doesn’t comment on how he can tell exactly how hard she is struggling to breathe, or how he can feel her other hand shaking at her side.

“I have an idea.” Cato begins, finally letting go of her arm and her body and trying to ignore the soft whine that she lets out when he does. “Not that they’re letting us anywhere near a war but,”

He reaches for the same deep silver gun he had picked up all those weeks ago, when he and Glimmer had been given free range for an hour with Beetee taking pity on them. “Easier to hit with this.”

Cato slips it from his hands to hers, and notices the way her hand nearly falls at the weight of the weapon. Before the frustrated look can even befall her face, he has her back in front of him, with both of his hands on top of hers. He raises her hands in his, holding them out infront of her. “You’ll like it, at least until your arms are better.”

“Easy now, baby.” Cato whispers in her ear, “You’ve got it.” He promises, and when she finally pulls the trigger, he catches her back against his chest when the kickback reverberates through her and sends her a few inches backwards. “There you go,” Cato kisses right below her ear, just before she twists in his arms to face him.

The smile stretched across her face is worth it all in that moment, the wicked, dark energy she is so known for all but painted in her eyes.

“I knew you’d like that.” Cato teases, only slightly off guard when the metal falls to the ground with a loud cling and he feels her pulling him back. It’s effortless when he naturally lifts her by her waist onto the armory table, in a spot between the guns and knives and various weapons of choice for the assorted victors in thirteen.

Clove threads her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and oh she is alive, alive alive again. As she pulls him down on top of her, she pauses only for a moment before catching his lips with hers.

“Remember, I’m not broken.”

“I know, Clove.”

#arwbfb tag #the hunger games #clato #cato and clove #clato fanfic #cato hadley #clove kentwell #glimmer thg #marvel thg #always remember we're burned for better tag #the hunger games fanfic

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ithisatanytime · 1 year ago

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Charli XCX & Troye Sivan - 1999 [Official Video]

im gonna try to give a couple more examples to clear up and hopefully summarize my point on mass shootings but well see how it goes

first scenario, imagine the united states racial demographics were more like 99 percent jewish and one percent white, so basically an inversion of the racial demographics prior to unchecked immigration from mexico and ignoring blacks for simplicities sake. this may come as a shock to you, but i dont really feel personal predjudice against your average jew, and in fact i get along better and identify with them a little easier because im nuerotic and intellectual and a film buff etc. however if in that scenario i was the only white man in a school comprised entirely of jews and i either didnt realize i was jewish or didnt understand the extant of the difference between our two peoples, i might be tempted to do a mass shooting! why dont i have any friends? why am i so different? why are these guys such massive fucking perverts i mean i get horny too but im not gonna straight up grab some chicks ass on the back of the bus and make her cry just because shes there and i might get away with it! and likewise my jewish peers might wonder why im so prone to violent confrontation, why i care so little about money or academic accolades etc. now if i were say a chinese foriegn nationals son named ping attending this school, many of those same challenges would be remain but the source of the discomfort would be obvious to all and wed work a little harder to bridge the gap, when the difference between two peoples SEEMS either nonexistant or subtle but is in fact a wide gulf, and the reason isnt clear, you start running into serious issues. in that scenario im the same man i am now, and over all, im proud of the choices ive made, not all but on the whole im glad for the man i ended up being, but in that scenario i would be convinced that there was something DEEPLY DEEPLY wrong with me, after all its not allll the other students who are wrong and IM right, but then what? what human could just decide that happiness was never for them, comfort was never for them, and the literal torture they are subjected to by their peers are their own fault and they deserve it? no one will do this, no one does this. in this scenario suicide is the OBVIOUS answer, but if you have your heart set on dying you have nothing really to lose, so why not take out your tormenters who are alien to you to the degree that you cant even see them as human and they feel much the same way about you.

the other scenario hopefully will be brief and parts of it arent gonna make a lot of sense, but if you get it you will much better understand the underlying point.

pretend its the vietnam war still, white europeans are killing south east asians, and sure there were some vietnamese and blacks fighting on the americans side and some whites on the other, but almost every war is fought along ethnic lines and this is not a coincidence but the true purpose of war, it is the survival of the fittest competition when applied to highly social animals like us. imagine in this scenario the united states somehow transported american teenagers into vietnamese schools, but outwardly they looked vietnamese and had artificial vietnamese memories implanted to better fit it (LOOK I TOLD YOU IT WAS A SLOPPY METAPHOR JUST BEAR WITH ME) suppose one of these american sleeper cells just couldnt fit in with their peers, even though outwardly they were vietnamese inwardly they werent and they felt no kinship with these south east asian people beyond the most base layer of politeness. in his isolation, and inability to understand anyone around him, he snaps and shoots up his vietnamese school... mission accomplished?

i know thats confusing as hell, but what im getting at is these jew mass shooters arent doing anything that warriors havent done to neighboring tribes since the beginning of time, the difference is we had the genius idea of jumbling all these peoples up within the same border, under the same roof, almost like sharing a bed with a complete stranger. the conflict that arises is not just inevitable but benificial for the survival of the species, it IS the competition and it wont be put off for you or oprah winfrey or anyone, these are our instincts. people like klebold and harris, the tranny shooter recently, uncle ted the unabomber, even if they arent consciously aware that they are living basically alone amongst a potentially hostile foreign tribe, they know it on an intuitive level because it is instinct, and would do war from within our own borders against us.

#youtube

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mechromancergaige · 5 years ago

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Ughh the slaughterstar 3000 is so fucking haaaard. I've only managed to get up to the second round and theres so many heavy enemies it's ridiculous

#ive done literally every other side mission #this is the last on i need to do #and i dont wanna ask ppl to join my game to help me bc ive always liked playing bl solo #which might be strange but thats how ive always done it lmao #the creature slaughter one was rly hard too #w all the badass rakks #i managed tho lmao

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pvarker · 3 years ago

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one way or another [prolouge]

masterlist • about me • general guidelines

series summary: peter parker and y/n stark: chemistry partners, superhero team, and avid rivals. but as oscorp rises, there's no choice but to work with each other. watch as they collide, and react with each other and find out if the neutralize or combust.

[prologue] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

tags: enemies to lovers/rivals to lovers, stark!reader, slow burn, college!peter x college!reader, they both hate each other [or do they?], fluff, sexual tension, light angst, no blip (aka everyone lives), no nwh/written pre-nwh

word count: 777 words

a/n: hello, and welcome to my very first fic on this blog :) ive been wanting to write for peter parker for a long while, and i love rivals to lovers trope so why not combine both, and write this instead of studying for my midterms. i'll be writing longer and longer sections to this. if you see this, please let me know if this something you would like to see more of!

"As always, make sure to always wear your gloves and goggles at all times. Final reminder that all parts of the nylon preparation must be done under the fume hood," your chemistry TA concluded his pre-lab lecture, switching the slide to a timer. The class erupted into movement, the students itching to complete their lab as soon and accurately as possible.

The shuffling of feet filled the room, as teams split, each person going to grab their glassware for their group. The clinking of glass against each other and the sounds of opening drawers echoed through the lab, as you opened your laptop to your lab notes and procedures.

You were still a second year at MIT, your heart soaring at the thought of finally delving into chemical engineering, but somehow the general chemistry lab was what you dreaded all week. While most students dreaded it for the length of the class, where people barely get enough time to breathe, but you dreaded it for an entirely different reason.

You look over to the figure at the other edge of the table, your lab partner hunched over his laptop, pulling up the procedure. Well, calling him your partner is quite generous. Lab Rival, is a much more apt description of the boy that you're perpetually stuck with.

Peter Parker.

Spiderman.

Your partner and rival all wrapped into one.

He's been the menace in your life, ever since your father Tony Stark invited him to a "Stark Internship." You were only 15 when he stumbled into your life, quite literally, as he knocked into you his first day at the Stark Tower.

"Watch it," you sneered at him, the anger evident on your face, as your prototype almost stumbled out of your hands. You gripped the piece closer to your chest as you looked up at the boy, his doe-eyes wide and concerned. "You should really be more careful," you stated, glaring at him.

"Let me help you with that," the boy outstretched his arms, grasping at the sides of the prototype, and yanked. For a boy so lanky and shy, his grip was strong, almost crushing... and CRACK! the polycarbonate frame cracked in half.

And, thus, the burning flame of hatred began in your young heart, seeing all those hours of work, shattered into pieces at your feet. You assumed him to be a temporary fixture in your life. Obviously, your father would take him under his wing for a while and as soon as he came into her life, the lanky boy would fade out.

Oh how you wished for that to be true, for he was everywhere you looked now. Soon, he was at the Stark tower all the time, hovering over your father as he worked on different designs. He then started attending your high school, Midtown High, a high school meant for gifted and talented students in STEM.

The only solace for you was your role in the Avengers, your ability to manipulate physical objects and psychokinesis setting you apart from everyone else. At least, that was until Spiderboy joined the team, and your father paired you two together for every. single. mission.

Then, he popped up every morning at the tower, your father soon informing you that he's moved in. Before you really recognized it happening, your lives were too intertwined to untangle.

Now, despite having spent close to 4 years working together, the fire between the two of your burns as hot as ever, and at 20, you two still bring out the worst in each other.

You shifted your gaze to the lab procedure before you, trying to ignore his presence, counting the glassware you had grabbed out of your shared cabinet. 100 mL beaker, 250 mL beaker, 600 mL beaker, Forceps... You scrunch your eyebrows, as your eyes scanned around the table. Where was the 50 mL graduated cylinder... I swear I got it out a moment ago...

"Watch it, Y/N," Parker muttered, as his hand stretched out to capture the graduated cylinder your arm almost knocked over, not even looking up from his laptop. He put it back onto the countertop, his gaze slowly shifting to meet yours. "You should really be more careful," he said, his eyes boring into yours.

Stupid Spidey sense. Stupid Peter Parker.

This was all his fault, really. If he hadn't been so desperate to take your place in your father's heart, you supposed you wouldn't hate him this much. It was too late, though, your whole relationship was founded on an endless competition.

One that you intended to win, one way or another.

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cdroloisms · 3 years ago

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uhhhh ,, , hi ??

i feel bad bc i havent been here in. LITERALLY forever lmao - hope you guys r all doing good!! ive been working on some stuff but it’s been pretty slow going, and school is also A Thing, so i definitely havent been writing as much as i’d like.

as an apology, have this? really self-indulgent feel-good syndicate + c!dream centric oneshot bc i felt like writing this so u know. why not.

tws: implied torture, abuse, self-harm, disordered eating, starvation mentions, prison arc themes - overall everything’s just blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions, not too much angst here for once! c!sam and c!quackity critical, sorry guys but we r still in the prison arc and they still r on their “fuck human rights” arcs.

Dream leaves.

It’s a surprise - or maybe it isn’t one, Niki isn’t quite sure. She’d never grown to quite trust the man, she knows, and she can’t really tell if the bitter twist of emotion that swells up her chest when Phil comes to her city with the news is betrayal or resignation - what can she say. She’s gotten more than her fair share of broken promises. They don’t exactly faze her anymore.

None of them seem all that surprised, save Techno, who entirely fails to hide the worry that flickers over his face when he calls the Syndicate meeting to officially inform them of what’s going on. She shares quick, careful glances with the other members when his back is turned - despite how many times he’s been burned, Techno still seems so adamant at holding onto every thread, trusting all too easily those who would use and leave him behind without a second glance. He can handle himself, she knows. Still, that’s not going to stop her from slapping Dream upside the head for being yet another worthless person to betray her friend’s forgiving nature.

Nothing much changes in the next few weeks. Niki has to admit, it’s strange without Dream around - he’d not been an ally, much less a friend before dipping completely, but he had been some sort of constant - and Niki is self aware enough to know that she misses him, a little, the same sort of way you might miss an old routine once it’s gone, if only for the familiarity. She still visits Techno and Phil with various baked goods, knowing that Phil would have his hands full just keeping Techno from running himself ragged - makes sure to check on Ranboo, whose nerves have inevitably returned with Dream’s disappearance. To be honest, she doesn’t worry as much as he does - ally or not, she’s spent enough time with the Dream that had left prison to expect that he won’t exactly be able to get himself very far should he come for the four of them, and doesn’t particularly care about he might pull with the rest of the server - if things get bad, she’s sure Phil and Techno will have it handled. She asks Phil, once, what happened, and he shrugs.

“I don’t know, mate,” he heaves a chest to the side, pulling out a stack of stone blocks that Niki gladly holds for him. “One day we woke up and he was just- gone. Everything. Was like he wasn’t ever there at all.”

Niki hums. “Why’d you think he’d do something like that?”

“If I could understand half of why Dream does what he does, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He smiles at her from behind a crate. “Shall we bring these things upstairs and start on dinner?”

Niki laughs, knowing that the conversation about Dream is over. “Of course, Phil.”

Dinner is a welcome distraction; all of them have gotten better at cooking in recent months, between her baking and the veritable library of recipes Phil knows that she’s never even heard of, but Phil is still the only one she really trusts to hold his own behind the stove - Ranboo is still a little too nervous around water, and fire, and much of everything, and though Techno can be a perfectly capable cook, he’s been distracted as of late. She has a strong feeling that left to his own devices, he’d just grab a stack of steak and disappear for another few weeks, searching the server for information.

Honestly, she’s a little thrown off by his behavior - he’d not done anything like this with Tommy, if she remembers right, and had hardly seemed affected by Wilbur’s betrayal on the Sixteenth at all (then again, she was a little too lost in her own head to notice if he was.) She tosses her head over to ask Phil, who’s leaning over a few carrots he’s slicing to throw into the stew he’s making, and the man pauses, frowns.

“From what I know,” he starts, words slow, careful, “they’d spent three months in there together, and the conditions weren’t exactly- stellar. According to what Techno said, I’d assumed they had come to some sort of understanding.” He goes back to the carrots, expression dipping into shadow and out of sight. “Guess I was wrong.”

Niki hums. She can see it, sort of - spending months together with someone, no matter how insufferable, probably would end with some degree of attachment - she thinks back to plotting through sleepless nights with Jack, anger and grief leaving them simmering, crabs in the same pot of boiling water, remembers looking into his dead-eyed gaze and seeing her own stare back - and feels a brief pang of guilt. Besides, Techno is Techno. She’d never met someone so willing to forgive, understand, reach out despite everything that’s happened - for Dream to take advantage of that feels almost too obvious. Of course he would - what were they all thinking?

“He’s Dream,” she says as if that explains everything, flipping open the oven door and feeling a wave of heat blast her face. Phil hums lowly, understanding. “I hope Techno will be alright.”

“He’s tough,” Phil cracks a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “And he has us on his side. He’ll get through.”

Niki opens her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the front door slamming open. Outside their quaint little cottage, the wind howls - it sounds like the beginning of a blizzard out there, flurries painting the world in a thick blanket of white. In the door, Techno strides into the entrance with loud, decisive movements, shutting the door loud enough to make the walls shake. Inadvertently, Niki finds her eyes drawn to the small pile of snow that he’s tracked into the house - Techno’s usually so careful to kick it all off on the porch, never liked it much when there was a pile of melting ice and snow dampening the floorboards and soaking into his shoes. He huffs harshly, stripping off a snow-dusted scarf from his face - a long, multicolored abomination that had been the product of her attempting to teach Ranboo how to knit. Phil has reached his side, hands splayed over his upper arms, eyes soft in the corners from concern.

“Techno, mate-” his tone is chiding but his movements gentle as he brushes snow off of Techno’s signature cloak, “you’ve gotten snow everywhere. What were you doing, dueling a blizzard?”

Techno shakes his head, not meeting Phil’s banter as usual, fur sticking up from the snow melted into it. His voice is gruff and holds little humor - unconsciously, Niki feels her shoulders tense.

“Phil, call a Syndicate meeting.”

---

Phil, per usual, is unrelenting, so it’s not until a quick dinner and some hurried messages to their final member later that the Syndicate is gathered in their meeting room, Techno pacing the length of the room as they wait in their respective seats. He looks less frazzled than he did when he first entered the house, in part due to Phil’s sitting him down to eat and picking through his fur to smooth it out of its windblown spikes and tangles - Techno had grumbled at him to stop preening him, but looked a lot more relaxed by the time they were all finished with their food. Still, his ear flicks periodically, twitching toward ssome sound that Niki can’t hear, movements tighter and jerkier than she is used to. He’d always been a little flightier after the prison, but not quite like this - everything here feels like that but dialed up to eleven. Inexplicably, it reminds her of Dream.

“Techno?” Phil gestures towards his seat, prompting, and he settles into it with an obliging huff.

“Y’know, Phil, the code names are kinda pointless if we never use ‘em,” he says, words carrying no real heat - he looks back at the rest of them, lips thinning into a line. “Anyway. I called this meeting because I found a couple leads on Dream.”

“O-oh,” Ranboo stutters, tail lashing behind him.

“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, mate,” Phil reminds him gently, a sentiment that Niki affirms with a determined nod.

“There’ve been some reports- rumors, really,” Techno says, calling their attention again, and they all turn towards him, “of increased activity around the prison again. The Warden spending more time on its grounds, movement seen around the walls and around the portal- so I decided to go check it out for myself.”

Niki frowns, and watches as Phil does the same beside her - Techno had seemed to avoid the prison if he could help it, save for when he went on the initial mission to break Dream out. It was no secret to them that he didn’t exactly like the place.

“We could’ve helped if you asked,” Phil reminds him, and Techno shakes his head.

“I know, Phil. It’s just- that place is bad news. I’d rather keep you guys away from there if I can-” his hand goes to his head with a poorly hidden wince. “Sorry, Chat’s a little- worked up, at the minute.”

“Sorry, we’ll stop interrupting you,” Niki says, cutting off Phil before he says anything else. “So you went to the prison?”

Techno takes a second to gather his thoughts, mumbling quietly in the way that usually means he’s telling off Chat. “Right- I decided to stake out the portal. The rumors were right- Sam has been hanging around there, entered and left the prison four times yesterday. And today-” he hesitates, expression visibly darkening. “This morning, about an hour after the Warden arrived, Quackity came to the prison and went through the portal. He left the grounds about six hours later.”

“Quackity?” Niki frowns, eyes flicking over to how Phil has stilled in his seat. “What is Quackity doing at the prison?”

Phil ignores her question, reaching towards Techno, something indiscernible in his gaze. “Mate…”

“He smelled of blood when he left,” Techno says, words sharp, and Niki feels her heart skip a beat. “Warden left about half an hour after, and I came back here.”

Ranboo clears his throat, sounding tentative. “Okay,” he drums his hand on the table when they turn towards him, eyebrows drawn, “but what, exactly, does this have to do with, uh, Dream?”

Techno and Phil trade glances, one of their bouts of unspoken conversation that Niki’s grown extremely used to. They seem strangely hesitant, she notes internally, Phil looking towards Techno with a question written clearly in the planes of his face. Techno sighs, a long puff of air through his lips as he closes his eyes and turns his face towards the table.

“You know how Dream was- injured,” he starts slowly, looking back up at them. Niki shifts uncomfortably - of course she noticed, it was impossible not to - if not the bandages that peeked under his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, then how skinny he’d been, all skin and bones curled up uncomfortably in a pile at the corner of Techno’s couch. She’d not know the extent, by any means, and had always assumed that they’d been self-inflicted - she’d been in a bad enough place on her own before to know how your head can make you want to hurt, sometimes, how eating food can feel like choking on sawdust and the world could feel so much smaller when focused into delicate pricks of pain. Phil’s eyes are trained on Techno - on his face, then on the pinkish raised skin of a still-healing scar along his forearm, and she feels understanding settle like a rock in her gut.

“The Warden had apparently been lettin’ Quackity into the cell to torture Dream for the revive book,” Techno trails off, eyes narrowed and seemingly fixed on a random point of the opposite wall. “By the time I go there, it’d been goin’ on for months.”

“But wait,” Ranboo’s tail moves even more erratically behind him, “You mean you think he’s back- there? How?”

“He has to be back in the prison,” Techno points out. “I can’t imagine anyone besides him that the two of them are goin’ to just start torturin’- Sam had been iffy about the whole thing when Quackity started in on me. It has to be Dream in there again.”

“But how did he get in there, then?” Ranboo asks, visibly confused. “Last time it took the entire server to lock him up!”

“There were no signs of a struggle,” Niki points out, matter of fact. “I believe you, Techno, but I don’t really know how they managed to drag him back so easily. I can’t imagine he was jumping at the chance to go back in there.”

Techno shakes his head with an uneasy sigh.

“I have a feelin’ of what might’ve happened,” he says quietly. “And I really hope that I’m wrong and he’s less of an idiot than I think he is.”

---

They set out to investigate - and maybe attack - the next day, Techno and Phil taking on the bulk of preparations as Ranboo stays behind. He’d been understandably uneasy about the whole mission, so they’d left him back by the Syndicate room to set off their pearls in case anything went wrong. (“By the end of the day,” Techno had said, giving Phil a look with the corner of his lip quirked upwards, “don’t be like Phil here and think I meant the end of the month, alright?”) They’d all be supplied with armor and weapons, thanks to Phil, but she’d been handed the bulk of their potions, arranged neatly in her inventory by type in case they’d be needed. She lingers in the back of the room as Phil and Techno chat amiably over the sound of making last minute repairs on their armor, listens to Techno’s ceaseless reminders for Phil to be careful, watches as they make sure that their stasis chambers are properly prepared should they need them.

(She watches as Phil nudges Techno’s shoulder when he lingers behind a certain chair, empty as long as she’s been part of the Syndicate, the fountain behind it bubbling quietly without a pearl inside. Techno sighs, expression strange.

“Should’ve set him up with one,” he says, quiet, and Phil pats him on the back.

“You couldn’t have known, mate. We wanted to wait a little before telling him about the Syndicate, remember?”

Techno hums, noncommittal. “Still.”)

They Nether travel to the site of Techno’s lookout, which ends up being a little shambling thing with dirt walls dug into a small hill looking towards the prison portal, having hardly enough space to fit the three of them. Phil looks at it with no small amount of apprehension, and Techno shrugs lightly, wearing an expression that makes Phil turn to him with a look that makes Niki break into giggles. Techno crosses his arms- “in my defense-” and Phil looks up at the dirt ceiling with a long-suffering sigh.

“You couldn’t have made this a little roomier, mate?” Phil asks, voice dry as kindling, and Techno raises his hands by his head.

“Hey hey, it’s discreet, it gets the job done, it’s perfectly structurally sound-” the sound of the leftmost wall crumbling, along with the cloud of dust that puffs from it and fills their tiny space, undermines the tail end of his statement and leaves him sputtering, Niki falling into another fit of quiet giggles. Underneath it all, Phil sighs again, raising his wings behind him.

“...these are going to take so long to clean out.”

To his credit, Techno looks sheepish. “Sorry, Phil.”

They sober up quickly; Techno turns around to the opposite side of the hill, where he’s hidden some peepholes inside the dirt - Niki settles herself by one, leaning forwards to put her eye to it and catch a glimpse of the prison looming over the water. It’s been repaired since the breakout, she notes, the gaping hole in the roof completely gone and replaced with obsidian, as intimidating and undamaged as it had been before, if not more so. Phil makes a considering sound from behind her.

“Same plan as last time?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head.

“They’ve probably reinforced it, and Dream’s blueprints won’t include anything new the Warden’s added. I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved Dream to a different location completely. We don’t want to draw too much attention, either, we were cutting it pretty close during the breakout.” He narrows his eyes. “I was thinking we’d try something a little stealthier, this time. “

He gestures at Niki, who blinks back at him with wide eyes.

“You got a couple of invis potions for us?”

She distributes the potions among them all, one regular and two splash potions of invisibility each, and Techno points towards the prison once she’s done.

“The most important thing is to get through the portal,” he says with a grim expression. “Worst comes to worst, once we’re inside we can always blast our way through - but gettin’ through that portal is our first priority.”

Phil narrows his eyes at him. “The portal is locked, though. We’ll need to follow someone else inside- and I’m pretty sure Sam uses pearls, so he’s out.”

Techno nods. “Which is why I’m bankin’ on the prison gettin’ another visitor today. We’ll just have to wait.”

Niki swallows. “Do you mean-”

“Quackity?” Techno turns away, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m not totally sure, but he’s not exactly the type to just give up on his goals. He’s pretty predictable- an empire needs an emperor, always needs something new to rule- you know the type,” he says, tipping his head towards Phil. “He’ll be mad at Dream for disappearin’ on him and won’t miss the opportunity to prove he has the upper hand again. I’m not sure that he’s going to come today-”

“-but you wouldn’t really be surprised, either,” Phil finishes for him, eyes steely with cold determination. “I trust your judgement, mate. Just stay safe- from what I’ve heard, Quackity has been...erratic.”

“When is he not,” Techno huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Phil. Just be careful, both of you. Don’t get too close. And if things get messy- which is what we’re tryin’ to avoid, by the way- then don’t do anything too risky. Our priority is gettin’ in and out alive.”

“We can handle ourselves, Techno,” Niki reminds him with a small smile. “And Ranboo is there in case anything goes wrong.”

“Alright, then. Here’s the plan.”

---

It takes quite a long time for Quackity to arrive, long minutes that Niki spends fidgeting in the corner of the room, brushing her hands over seams of the netherite plates that Phil had shoved into her hands, back at the Syndicate room. The set is inexplicably light - not weightless, by any means, as it is still netherite, but not nearly as bulky as any set of netherite armor she’s owned or seen in the past. The runes are precise, lines thin and exact, written with graceful strokes of lapis.

“Phil’s the best metalworker I’ve ever met,” Techno tells her with a small grin, catching her in the middle of tracing what she can make out as an Unbreaking rune along the metal strapped to her forearm. “But then again, he’s had the time to practice.”

“Are you calling me old again?” Phil huffs, and Techno flashes a smile her direction before looking at Phil with a slight grin.

“Well, Chat is,” he says, lips twitching when Phil glares back.

“You can’t just blame Chat every time you insult me, you little shit,” Phil groans, and Techno only grins wider.

“Phil, my ad revenue,” he complains, a dramatic lilt to his voice that has Niki stifling a snort, and Phil’s glare only grows deadlier.

“You’ll have more than your ad revenue to worry about if you keep this up,” he mumbles, going back to keep watch at one of the peepholes and stilling as he does. “Shit- Techno, Quackity’s here.”

Techno straightens up, hindered slightly by the low ceiling of their room. “Alright- we all know the plan, right?”

Niki nods in the affirmative, pulling out a splash invis and letting it settle in her hand, the glass cool beneath her fingertips. She reaches into her inventory and lets her armor fade into it, takes a deep breath and watches as the two across from her do the same. She doesn’t wear armor often, but so close to the prison, feeling mining fatigue settling deep into her bones - she’s never missed the security it offers more. Techno keeps watch, waiting- drops his arm in a signal. Now.

Niki throws the potion at their feet, flinching back at the sound of shattering glass and feeling its effects seep into her skin. When she opens her eyes, she can’t see anything but the inside of the room that they’d holed themselves in and the faintest of wisps rising from where their feet must be, curling around the grass.

(Please let this work, she begs to no one in particular as they walk towards the prison. And if you can hear me- please keep us all safe.)

She hardly breathes as they follow Quackity across the path, holding someone’s hand in her own - Phil’s, by the feel of it - careful to muffle her footsteps in the grass and stand still whenever Quackity’s eyes come a little too close. Thankfully for them, he seems focused, hardly stopping or looking around at all as he walks towards the prison’s portal, movements stiff as he walks forward. He punches the button on the wall particularly harshly, and Sam’s voice comes crackling through a speaker a second later.

“I’m here for my visit,” Quackity says, punctuating the sentence with a snort of laughter that doesn’t sound particularly sincere. Niki hasn’t seen him in a long while, not after everything that happened in Pogtopia, and she feels a chill worm down her spine - this man looks nothing like the one that had laughed and danced and sung at her birthday party what feels like an eternity ago. What happened?

Sam sighs, the sound turning into a sharp burst of static through the speakers. “Hello Quackity,” he says, voice deep and tired. “Please step into the portal after I tell you to and then wait on the other side.”

“I know the drill, Sam,” Quackity rolls his eyes. “Just because the bastard was gone for a few weeks doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how this damn place works.”

“Just going through protocol, Quackity,” Sam replies, and something about this response has Quackity exploding into a brief fit of laughter, the sound grating against Niki’s ears. She feels her grip tighten on Phil’s hand, air caught in her throat.

“Protocol- ha. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal.” Quackity smiles, cold and cruel, and Niki tries not to think about how she’d seen that same grin on Wilbur, eyes sparkling from the light of the lanterns hung from the bridges and walls of their ravine, remember how she’d looked into them and realized her old friend wasn’t there, anymore. Quackity disappears into the portal, and after a second, the hand around her own pulls her inside of it too.

On the other side, Quackity taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and waiting- Sam’s voice comes through the speakers again, words clipped.

“Go through the portal,” he says, and Quackity does- once again, they wait for a second for his body to disappear, then go within it themselves, pressed close enough together within its frame for Niki to feel the warmth of a wing wrap around her shoulders for a quick second before they’re out of the hot, stifling air of the Nether and into a large, neatly made lobby of blackstone and quartz. They duck into a corner, watching as Quackity moves towards the front counter, the Warden waiting there with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks- tired. His movements are slow, footsteps loud against the floor, shoulders tense and back hunched. He walks around the counter, sword strapped to his belt, and Niki feels her breath hitch at the sight of dried blood still stuck to the blade in patches and splatters.

“He ready?” Quackity asks, holding his hands out - Niki catches a flash of metal as Sam drops something into them, watches as Quackity raises what ends up being a pair of shears, dangerous-looking and gleaming with enchants, to the light.

“Yes,” Sam says, side-eyeing Quackity with a small glare. “You know, it’s supposed to be your job to clean those things off when you’re done with them.”

“I told you, busy day back in Las Nevadas yesterday,” Quackity waves a hand- “I’ll do it, alright? Don’t get all pissy now. What happened to being partners?”

“You said we’d be done with this months ago, Quackity,” Sam sighs, and Niki feels a light tug on her arm as Quackity and Sam begin to walk towards the wall to the right of them, breathes in slow and deep as she follows Techno and Phil towards the others. The wall yawns open with the hiss of redstone firing and pistons pulling blocks upwards, opening into a dark hallway that feels like entering the maw of some sort of giant, insatiable beast. They step inside as one, and the door shuts behind them.

“We’ll be done soon enough,” Quackity says, and Niki feels hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Trust me.”

They stalk forwards through a labyrinth of blackstone, Niki brushing the palms of her hand against her clothes when it goes clammy from adrenaline. Halfway through, she pauses to tip back a second potion of invisibility, careful to keep her movements slow and steady as not to make a sound - the liquid is silvery, cool and light on her tongue, and she lets the effects wash over her with her breath caught in her lungs before moving forward. The tunnels are simpler than she’d expected, bearing little obstacles or checkpoints - Quackity makes a wry comment a second after (“Guard tunnels today, huh? Appreciate the hustle, pal-”) that confirms her suspicions. Despite the potion particles still whirling around their bodies and the sounds of their footsteps, too loud in her own ears, they manage to make it forwards without much trouble, entering a large room with a doorway filled completely with a curtain of lava.

“Set your spawn,” Sam says, still stoic, and Quackity rolls his eyes again before doing as told. Niki keeps looking back at the lava flowing past the wall, its heat filling the room and making her already slick palms even worse, and Sam moves to the side to flick a lever, eyes trained on the lava slowly bubbling in front of him.

“Give me your tools?” Quackity asks, and Sam sighs before doing so - Niki watches as he hands over a netherite axe, then potions, then a few raw potatoes that Quackity accepts and puts into his inventory. Sam raises an eyebrow once he’s done, hand tight around the handle of his trident.

“You bring your own sword, today?” He asks, seeming irritated, and Quackity shrugs.

“Sorry pal, I need to make a new one. Guess I’m borrowing yours again.”

Sam sighs again, louder, and hands over his sword as well, watching as Quackity swings it a few times experimentally. The blade skims a little too close to her on one swing and she can’t quite help the squeak that escapes her lips as she throws herself out of the way, feels her heart hammer in her ears as she backs up against the wall. Please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that-

“Quackity, wait.” Sam raises a hand, ear twitching as he looks over in her direction with narrowed eyes. “I think I heard something.”

Oh fuck.

“Well, guess show’s up then,” Techno drawls, and both of them whirl towards his voice, giving Niki enough time to pull her armor back on, scrambling to get her sword and shield in her hands as Phil does the same besides her. Pieces of armor appear where Techno is standing, then a bucket of milk- oh, why must her friends be so dramatic- and Techno’s standing there, smiling sharply, with Orphan Obliterator held loosely at his side. “Let’s get this done, then.”

As one, Techno and Phil blur into action - Techno moves forward to catch the prongs of Sam’s trident on his blade as Phil parries Quackity’s blows with his own sword- they move fluidly, easily covering each other’s backs as the room devolves into chaos. Niki remembers their guidance as she flits in and out of the fight, scoring quick hits to keep the Warden and Quackity off balance while remaining out of range from their weapons, and it’s not long before both of them have fallen with a spray of items and experience orbs scattered all over the floor.

Techno moves over to block off the exposed face of the bed with a block, looking over at the two of them with an uncharacteristically severe expression. “They’ll be back soon- we have to move fast. Niki, you have those fire res, right?”

She nods as she reaches into her inventory, finding the potion’s orange-pink glow and smashing it at their feet. They dive into the lava together, Niki scrambling to keep up, her arms struggling to move through the thick lava, loses sight of both until she flails into something directly in front of her and hands are pulling her up out of the lava.

“There you go, mate,” Phil smiles down at her as hauls herself to her feet, making a face at the feeling of the lava clinging to her clothes. “Yeah, swimming through lava isn’t exactly fun. You good?” She flashes him a thumbs up, and he laughs- “Niki, you’re still invisible.” She flushes pink- right.

A few sips of milk later, she gives him a proper thumbs up, and he laughs, loud and bright. She looks past him to where Techno’s crouched over something- someone, she realizes with a start, in the corner. Dream’s back in prison clothes, ragged and ill-fitting, and he’s curled up with his back towards the front of the cell, shaking enough to be obvious even from where she’s standing. Techno speaks lowly, voice barely more than a deep rumble in the air, almost inaudible.

“You there, Dream?”

She watches as Dream turns his head, looking up with wide, bleary eyes. His hair flops in front of his face, and something within her itches to brush it out of the way. “T-Techno?”

“Yeah nerd, who else?” Techno smiles, and Dream seems to blink awake, drawing himself up with a shuddery breath.

“Techno- it’s a trap- what are you doing here?” he hisses, and Techno gives him a look, deadpan.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a trap- come on, Dream, we’ve been over this by now, bro. You have to know that their traps aren’t goin’ to do anything to me by now,” Techno rolls his eyes, reaching forward to steady his hands on Dream’s shoulders when the other man sputters and struggles to breathe. “Easy, now. Geez, you wanted to prove me wrong about being homeless bad enough that you came back here? We could’ve just made you a house, you know. You didn’t have to go this far.”

“I- they were gonna kill you,” Dream breathes, face twisted up uncomfortably, and his eyes flick past Techno’s face to where Phil and Niki are standing at the opposite wall of the cell. “All of you- they said-”

“And that’s what I thought you’d say,” Techno groans. “Come on, you idiot, I thought you were smarter than this-”

“They were right there, Techno!” Dream fires back, eyes alight. “You- they were right there, what were you thinking, they could’ve-!”

“And my best friend is a necromancer, remember?” Techno shakes his head. “Come on, Dream- Sam and Quackity? You know we can handle them in a fight, especially when you can just revive us if anything goes wrong. You don’t have to do this whole self-sacrifice thing, bro- there’s only so many times I can break into the same prison, y’know.”

“You’re so stupid,” Dream huffs, but he leans in anyway, head just barely settling against Techno’s shoulder. “I- I can’t believe. You’re so dumb.”

“Hey, don’t be sayin’ that to the guy that’s breakin’ you out of prison,” Techno laughs, slinging Dream over his shoulder with an easy motion and laughing harder when it makes him yelp. “That’s just bein’ ungrateful. You’re making Chat sad, man, and when they’re sad they don’t subscribe-”

“I regret this entirely,” Dream says, voice muffled against Techno’s shirt, tone completely flat. “Put me down- you idiot- I’m staying here. You’re worse than Quackity.”

“Rude. Now you’ve really made Chat mad. I demand an apology-”

“Boys, boys.” Niki can’t help giggling, watching the way their gazes snap towards her, rolling her eyes as she moves forward with a few potions held loosely in her hand. “Dream, do you want a health pot?”

Dream seems to deliberate for a second, before nodding at her, expression slightly strained. “...sure.”

“You two can finish your argument after we’ve broken out of the biggest maximum security prison on the server,” Phil drawls from behind her, arms crossed at his chest. “Come on, now, before Sam gets back.”

“Isn’t this the only maximum security prison on the server?” Techno asks aloud, an amused expression on his face - one that only gets worse when Phil glares at him with one ice-blue eye.

“Shut-” he sighs, shaking his head. “You two are chaotic little shits, you know that?”

“Don’t compare me to him, Phil,” Techno complains, Dream mirroring his words with muffled protests of his own, and Phil breathes another drawn-out, long-suffering sigh as he rubs at the bridge of his nose.

“Niki, give us some fire res please?”

She finds the potion bottle between giggles, throwing it to the ground as she tries to choke down the laughter rapidly bubbling up her throat. “Of course, Phil.”

She looks back at Techno and Dream before jumping into the lava, the two of them once again lost in some sort of argument, Dream draped over Techno’s shoulder. He’s breathing easier now, she notes, and Techno looks looser too - a little less tense, leaning back with a perpetual quirk to the corner of his lip as they fire insults back and forth. This is familiar, she recognizes with a soft twist in her chest, the same way that Phil and Techno can finish each other’s sentences and look at each other with laughing eyes sharing the same memories of the past, the same way Ranboo watches Techno’s every step as he adjusts his stance and lifts his sword and Techno laughs and calls him a main character in turn, the same way she and Phil will settle together on the porch over cups of tea and sit at each other’s sides for hours. The rhythm between them is one well-established, the road well-worn - she imagines them, huddled in this dingy cell for months together, and breathes in slow and deep.

“Come on,” she smiles, making sure to keep it on her face when Dream meets her eyes with wide, startled ones of his own. Dream still isn’t an ally, and isn’t a friend.

But - she watches as he smiles back, something inexplicably warm in her chest - maybe, one day, he could be.

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw self harm #tw disordered eating #tw ed #tw sh #prison arc #pandora's vault #tw starvation #c!sam critical #c!quackity critical #my writing :D #> my writing

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weirdmageddon · 4 years ago

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five years too late let’s analyze this. the commentary has gotten me back into gravity falls reigniting thoughts and insights i came to years ago

i love everything about this commentary in general it hits the points of humor, genuine analysis of the characters, but most of all im so glad hirsch addressed that the droid not detecting any fear from dipper here doesnt make any scientific sense because that was a massive CinemaSins moment for me

IDK the fact that dipper can fucking stand after an airship crash because theres a bigger threat at hand is literally one of the defining capabilities owed to adrenaline lol...... IM SORRY im a biopsychology student if i dont point that out iwill seethe and die because that was just . its a grudge ive held for a long time about this episode but didnt rant about because it was something so minor and i’m sure nobody would care.

i was 13 when this episode came out and i’m almost 19 now, i had a special interest in biology and i still do but now i’m actually having college classes in biopsychology so i can give my arguments more oomph now. and i have to say, now that i know more about the brain and autonomic nervous system the more this scene bugs me, if that was even possible. and it says a lot of dipper and ford’s relationship.

if dipper clearly wasnt calm before, why would he be now just because he’s put up an outwardly confident facade? before he was in the flight but now hes in the fight. my boy just rode on top of a spaceship by nothing but a magnet gun that could detach at any time if it failed and then the ship crashed, he sustained injuries, is in emotional turmoil because he thinks his uncle is Fucking Dead and the threat of a security droid that detects adrenaline is on his tail and produces a Big Fucking Gun in response to dipper saying “i hAvE a MaGNeT gUn” and hes screaming and has his teeth clenched but sure there’s no adrenaline coursing through his body in that moment i can totally believe that

when dipper asks what happened, ford says “the orb didn’t detect any chemical signs of fear, it assumed the threat was neutralized and self-disassembled” but i don’t think measuring someone’s heartbeat alone is particularly relevant in detecting ... chemical signs of fear?? they dont really tell you this shit but noradrenaline (and maybe adrenaline too if the acetylcholine from sympathetic outflow always activates the adrenal medulla??, theres two pathways) is always active in small quantities to make sure your parasympathetic nervous system doesnt slow your heart to dangerous levels on its own, regardless of your emotions. it’s just a homeostatic mechanism. your sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems are CONSTANTLY modulating control of your organs on a see-saw, literally with every breath you take. simply standing upright causes specialized mechanoreceptor neurons in blood vessels to signal your brain to project signals to release catecholamines via the sympathetic nervous system to constrict your blood vessels so that blood is able to reach your brain and not pool in your legs. i have a deficiency in my body’s ability to adapt to this which is why i know so much about it. if i stand up my heart races to compensate. i’m not feeling fear, my body is just adjusting—albeit grossly and incompetently lol.

but what im saying here is that the security system is flawed. it’s a cool idea to have security droids detect fear, but in practice by detecting adrenaline, and not even directly by detecting the molecule itself—it’s done in a roundabout way by reading the heartbeat, could be a recipe for false alarms. like what if someone’s on beta-blockers. that’s not really an adequate way to measure “fear”; there’s so many variables that could interfere with the measurement the farther you abstract from what you’re really trying to detect. and besides, adrenaline is NOT just a sign of fear, it’s just for preparing the body for action. i know the sympathetic nervous system and adrenaline is constantly linked with the “fight-or-flight” reaponse to a stressor, but 99.9% of the time the sympathetic nervous system is used in your life is to balance out your parasympathetic nervous system to maintain homeostatic equilibrium for mundane things.

i think detecting amygdalar activation would be more efficient in detecting fear. the amygdala sends projections to the hypothalamus which then in turn modulates the autonomic nervous systems. but the amygdala is intensely activated specifically in response to a fear-inducing stimulus (it does activate in response to other emotions but they’re mostly negative and is most activated by startle and fear), and wouldnt be highly activated by many other confounding variables like measurement of the heartbeat could be. the amygala is one of the first stops directly from external stimuli.

to show you how integrated the amygdala is as the first step in registering fear after receiving input from sensory stimuli let’s look at the auditory-amygdala connection for example

see how the auditory thalamus projects to the primary auditory cortex and auditory association cortex? the cortex is where conscious awareness of what the stimuli is comes from. this is the “high road”. it goes sensing -> perception -> emotional response. but sometimes you can be startled without even processing what it is you’re sensing, like the startle response of an alarm or a phone ringing in a quiet house before you even register what it is. this goes sensing -> emotional response, without perception happening until after you’ve already felt the startle. that’s when it takes the “low road”. here’s a simplified version:

even if that were the case with these droids though it’s obvious dipper is still fearful on some level here. his body language, voice, expressions all give it away. for the amygdala, aggression isnt too off from fear so it would be detected equally.

the reason this is so important is because ford uses this as evidence for why dipper is special, “i did it?” “you did it. this is what i was talking about, how many 12 year olds do you think are capable of doing what you’ve just done?”

but like....did he really? i’m not saying this to shoot dipper down or make him out to be more of a wuss, he was incredibly strong-willed here and i dont want to take that away from him because it WAS growth on his part. but the underlying psychophysiological reactions of aggression and fear shouldn’t be that different and this was a total asspull. maybe the droid was so old that it fucked up. maybe dipper being covered in grime and dirt made it harder for the droid to measure the correct heart rate through photoplethysmography (im assuming since they use a camera and are non-contact).

and in all honesty everything i just said brings into question the interpersonal healthiness of ford’s judgements, what he thinks, his expectations, and how he communicates that. in this video alex already talks about how ford is projecting onto dipper. and i think ford may be projecting his expectations for himself onto people who are not him, and the fact that it’s on dipper here makes it far more unfortunate. you realize how much this boy idolizes ford, right? how much impressions matter? dipper even tells himself before he leaves in this same episode, “all right dipper, this is your first big mission with great uncle ford. don’t mess this up.”

even though it’s unstated, the implicit message dipper is perceiving from ford based on their dynamic is: “do you have what it takes for me to be proud of you?” and to accomplish this he must be like ford, even though he’s clearly not and he knows this. he says “i don’t think have what it takes. i was tricked by bill, i was wrong about stan’s portal, heck, i can’t even operate this magnet gun right.” then, by simple chance without even knowing what he did, he activates the magnet gun and pulls out the adhesive, which immediately takes the focus away from what dipper was telling ford about his feelings of inadequacy to ford saying, “yes! dipper, you found the adhesive!”

these thoughts of dipper’s hang in the air without resolve or comment from ford. we don’t know what ford would have said. but it then becomes painfully self-evident in the scene immediately after when the droids emerge and ford tells dipper, “they’re security droids and they detect adrenaline. you simply have to not feel any fear and they won’t see you”, to which dipper replies with an exasperated (and rightful) “WHAT?”

dipper goes in a panic trying to indirectly tell his uncle that this isn’t something he can do. and he is completely right and valid to be freaked out by that full stop. that IS crazy. you can’t control your fear. you can control how you interpret that fear in your higher brain regions but the physiological changes will stick around for longer than it takes to cognitively calm down. it’s easy for me to detach from my emotions to analyze them, but being able to do this does not come naturally for everyone. even i have an irrational fear of wasps and i can’t control it by detaching myself, my body is just automatically primed to get the fuck out of there. i know it’s stupid and i know it’s irrational and isn’t helpful to get myself worked up but i literally can’t stop how my body reacts no matter how i cognitively think about it. expecting composure from dipper in a situation like this when he’s being made to consciously be aware of his anxiety is absolutely fucking insane. look what you did, placing these cruel expectations on him, now he’s afraid of being afraid! this isn’t a case where two wrongs cancel out, they just stack on top of each other.

youtube

there’s a good reason these scenes were put side by side but it seems up until now it had remained unanalyzed.

what dipper fears from ford is disappointment. not living up to his uncle’s (quite frankly badly placed) expectations for a twelve year old with anxiety. not once did ford say or subliminally communicate “i don’t expect you to be able to do what i can since you are not as experienced as i am and that’s perfectly okay, no judgements”. you don’t put a child on bike before training wheels. you don’t throw a kid into a swimming pool without giving them swimming lessons. the way ford is doing it, there’s no room for trial and error or mistakes that are an opportunity to grow and learn; instead, it’s life or death. he only seems to pride dipper on what he can do while ignoring the underlying struggles that plague him and never making it known it’s okay for dipper to fail in front of his hero and that he won’t think anything less of him for it.

and that’s why i found the ending scene for dipper and ford’s adventure in this episode to feel so.. wrong. on a scientific and social level. because by the sound of it ford focused more on what dipper had done to dismantle the droid (the droid not detecting any fear) instead of how dipper displayed love and protection for him even if he was truly afraid. what if the science was accurate and the droid detected adrenaline while dipper was confidently standing up for his uncle. would ford still be proud of him regardless?

#can you tell how i’m similar to ford but also so different like i said in that other post lol #gravity falls #analysis #dipper pines #stanford pines #long post #gf #gravity falls meta

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zukkoxx · 4 years ago

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mha boys realizing they’re in love pt.1

w/ deku, bakugo

tw⚠️ insecurities!, self doubt!

deku 🥦

izuku knew he loved you since you guys started dating.

he had liked you for a long time, and when you finally got together in your last year of UA, he couldn’t have been happier.

he planned on living the rest of his life with you. and would go through any feats to make it possible.

so when you started to feel doubts about your relationship? that was a wake up call for him.

you had just finished training, all sweaty and tired, walking back to your dorm with a towel around your neck.

you scrolled through your phone mindlessly, and just happened to come across a twitter post about your boyfriend, deku, who had just taken down one of the villains that’s been on the run for months.

you smiled. you were so proud of him. already achieving his dream in becoming one of the greatest heroes. and getting the recognition he finally deserved.

you made it your your dorm, slumping on your bed as you read some of the comments.

woah this guy is still attending UA!? he’ll be a great hero for sure

there’s no one like him!

deku strikes again! what a stud😍

you laughed at some, grimaced at others that claimed the mission was too easy for him. but one particular comment had you freezing in your spot.

is he single? i won’t hesitate to run to the scene and give him my hand in marriage right now!

you knew it was a fun, lighthearted comment. but you clicked the the commenters page and instantly noticed how beautiful as preppy she was.

she was also a big deku fan...probably had more merch than you.

you sighed and threw your phone across the bed.

for the past few weeks, you had been thinking about how different you and izuku were in terms of success.

you were both in your last year of high school, and he had already done so much.

worked on so many cases with pro heroes and went through successful missions all the time. he was destined to become the greatest hero.

and you?

well, you’ve never even caught a villain.

sure you’ve helped out on low grade missions for the hero you interned under, but you had never been publicly praised like izuku. you never stood out.

you had trouble believing you’d become a hero at all.

you always wondered, wouldn’t izuku be better off with someone that could keep up with him? who wouldn’t hold him back. someone who he wouldn’t leave in the dust when he excelled in the future.

he deserved someone better.

your thoughts were cut off when your dorm door brushed open, revealing no other than the man himself.

izuku walked into your room with worried eyes and seemed out of breath.

“y/n? ive texted and called a bunch of times. why haven’t you answered?” he asked, and you subtly turned to your phone that you discarded on the other half of the bed.

“my ringer was off. sorry izu.” you tired to give him a smile as he sat next to you on your bed. “i saw an article about your mission today. you were amazing!” you complimented.

“ahh you give me too much credit. i couldn’t have dont anything with the pro heroes and other people helping.”

“still, you’re a great hero. i wish i was like that.” you chuckle dryly, past insecurities already pushing forward again.

“what!? you’re a great hero y/n!” izuku exclaimed.

“i’ve barely done anything izuku. i don’t know how you put up with me. i should be able to help you on your missions, but i’m stuck in the same position i have been in. i don’t know when i’ll improve.”

you didn’t mean to sound so pathetic, but you had been feeling this way for so long. it was all just spilling out now.

and izuku? he literally stopped breathing when he heard what you were saying about yourself. “you deserve someone that will be able to keep up with you. what will people think when they find out the amazing deku is dating a weak, incapable, good for nothing-”

“don’t say one more word y/n.” izuku cuts you off, and you look up to meet his eyes piercing yours.

they were dark, nothing like their usual gleaming glow that shined when he looked at you.

there was no sign of amusement on any of his features. just dead seriousness

“what the hell are you talking about y/n?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a chance to respond. “you’re one of the most courageous, brave, intelligent, capable people i know! where is all of this coming from?”

“i’ve been thinking about it for a while. it’s just you’re so...amazing and i’m so...” you knew anything you could have said after that would make him even more angry. it was nothing positive.

god he probably hated you for being so insecure.

“you’re you, y/n.” izuku says softly. “you’re you and you’re who i love. i don’t care about what i do, what you do, who says what! i love you for you!”

izuku looks at you with so much love and compassion. you stared into his eyes, wondering what was gong on in his head.

well? at the moment he despised himself for letting you feel this way.

you were his whole world! the person who supported you in everything he did and he would support you in the same way! he couldn’t understand why you were feeling this way when he was literally...in love with you.

he loved you yeah of course, but hearing the way you were speaking about yourself, and how you had doubts about your relationship made his heart physically hurt. he was absolutely and unconditionally in love with you and wouldn’t be able to see himself with anyone else.

and he needed you to hear it.

“y/n you’re my everything! i’m so in love with you, no amount of fame or recognition could make me even think about leaving you!” izuku said urgently, and he finally calmed down when he saw a slight smile reach your lips.

a real one this time.

the conversation continued, and izuku promised to let you learn and remember how in love he was with you until it was the last thing he’d do.

bakugo 💥

bakugo would never pursue anyone unless he definitely knew he loved them.

so of course he never asked you out when he couldn’t differentiate if what he felt for you was love, or if it was a stupid little crush.

he didn’t like thinking about his feelings, especially the irrelevant ones.

he was trying to become the number one hero. who needed time for love anyways?

so he ignored his “feelings” for you, not allowing them to confuse him any longer.

it wasn’t until a few months into his third year when bakugo got the worst news of his life.

you were on a mission. an important one that had you absent from school for weeks.

bakugo was worried.

he’d text you every few days, asking what was going on and how things were and you’d always respond with “it’s fine.” or “we’re hanging in there.”

he assumed it was a pretty difficult mission, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

you were strong

so when he heard from a certain icy-hot that you were in the hospital in critical condition after completing the mission, he forgot about everything and ran straight to you.

ignoring aizawa’s calls, he almost blasted himself out of UA and checked every hospital for you, considering he didn’t even ask todoroki which one you were in before he left.

when he finally reached the hospital holding you, he sprinted to your room.

he found you hooked up to a bunch of wires and tests.

you looked peaceful, sleeping while the heart monitor beeped beside you.

but you looked horrible. bloody bandages covered almost every limb, and your body was covered in bruises.

bakugo’s heart dropped to his stomach. he couldn’t stand seeing you like this.

why does his feelings have to be 100x more noticeable when your tragically hurt!?

he sat down on the empty chair beside the hospital bed, wondering why no one else was visiting at this time.

he stared at you, something he couldn’t get off of his mind lately.

“why do you make me feel things, dumbass?” he asked, waiting for a response. “i never skip class! you just had to get hurt and make me skip the test review.” he rolled his eyes, but his face softened as he looked at you, still sleeping.

“i’ll help you study. you’ll probably fail without going over what we learned.”

.....

“would you wake up, you shitty woman!” he yelled, gripping the side of your bed “this is scary, you know?”

.....

“i should’ve called you today, i just assumed you’d be too busy to talk. if you told me you were in trouble, i’d blast my ass to wherever you were in a heartbeat.” bakugo said, feeling his actual heart skip a beat when you still didn’t respond.

“please wake up...”

after about an hour of waiting, your other classmates came in, checking on your condition.

you still hadn’t woken up, but your vitals were better and your breath were more steady.

by the time night fell, everyone left; except for bakugo

he was just starting to fall asleep when he felt she. he heard you stir in the hospital bed.

his head shot up, quickly turning to face you as he saw you blinking you eyes slowly.

“y/n!” he yelled a little louder than anticipated, making you shoot awake and look at him.

you blinked a few more times before realizing who you were looking at. “katsuki!?” you asked, trying to sit up, but feeling a sharp pain in your side.

“hey! don’t move dumbass. are you okay? do you remember anything?” he frantically asked.

“umm...i’m fine?” you said, sounding like you were trying to convince yourself. “why are you here?”

“why am i here? you were admitted into the hospital in critical condition!”

“i-i’m sorry, everything’s a bit fuzzy right now.” you say softly, putting a hand on your forehead and tryin got remember everything.

bakugo softened, and waited until you got yourself together. “how long have you been here?” you ask

“since this morning.”

“this morning!? katsuki what about school? do your parents even know you’re here?”

“why the hell are you worried about me? you’re the one hooked up to all these machines and can barely move!” bakugo yelled, trying to understand why you were so focused on him being there with you.

“i just never thought you’d be the one to go out of your way to check on someone. let alone be here the whole day...” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy at the idea of bakugo keeping your sleeping body company for hours.

bakugo froze at your words.

he really wasn’t the type to go check on people for more than a few minutes. especially not one to skip school because of it.

maybe he did this because he felt a little more than what he thought he did.

maybe this wasn’t a stupid little crush? maybe it was something serious that he had just been blowing off.

when he heard about your condition, he just couldn’t stand by. there must have been something that pushed him to run to you.

“it’s cause u care about you...idiot. i wasn’t gonna a let you suffer here alone.” he huffs, crossing his arms.

“katsukiii do you like me or something?” you asked in a teasing tone

he couldn’t believe you were making jokes at a time like this. furthermore, he couldn’t believe how easy it was for you to see through his facade.

“i do.” he states. there was no point in lying.

“i was just kidding kats-“

“i’m not.” he cuts you off. “i care about you, and i like you. a lot. so...you better like be bad damn it. or i’ll blow you to bits!”

you chuckled and smiled tenderly at him. you definitely weren’t expecting him to say that, but you weren’t complaining.

“i like you too...i guess.” you smile, and katsuki tsked before smirking at you.

he finally felt like he could breath again, and that everything was going to be fine now.

except...katsuki didn’t like you. he loved you. but no way would he tell you that

this absolutely sucks i can’t believe i’m posting this. if you can, plz give me some requests so i don’t make trash hcs like this again. they’ll be a pt.2 later. hopefully it isn’t as bad as this one.

click here to send a request. i’d really appreciate it!

#mha fluff #mha #bakugou imagine #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katsuki #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugo headers #deku headcanons #deku x reader #izuku headcanons #deku x y/n #deku x you #izuku x you

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whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years ago

Text

Long Nights - part 4

Neil x Reader

Chapter 4: World gone mad

(see chapter 3, 2, 1)

summary: inverted heist calls for inverted training

warnings: 18+, explicit language, gun mention, crackheadery, and possible whiplash

author’s note: Hi, yes, I know, took me ages, but hey, I hope it's worth the wait! 5.2k words, how even--

Anyway.

The song for this part is Bastille - World Gone Mad

Enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @mellifluous-cosmos @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

The fact that you knew how to handle guns wasn’t equal to you being very good at it. Or enjoying it, for that matter. Sure, you could more or less hit the target, especially with some useful tips you got from Neil regarding a trigger finger discipline, but still - you’d rather avoid reaching for a pistol altogether.

You put back the weapon you’d been training with and Neil handed you another one. You couldn’t really tell the difference, at least until you checked the magazine. The lack of ammo meant you finally got to the fun bit that Neil teased in The Protagonist’s office and you smiled, looking back at your companion. He grinned at you, the gaze sparkling behind yellow-tinted safety glasses as he pointed at the wall next to the targets you used for practice.

“Just aim and pull the trigger. ” Seeing your nod, he added, “Okay now, be careful, it might feel--”

The bullet whizzed back into the chamber of your pistol and your eyes widened.

“Oh fuck me sideways,” you hissed under your breath.

“-- a bit weird, yeah.” Neil chuckled at the shock painted on your face. “All right?”

“Yeah, just processing.” Trying to blink the consternation away, you asked, “How do you make these? You put it into that...turnstile and voilà?”

Neil shook his head. “No, it’s not that simple. We receive a stash every now and then, we don’t know how to manufacture those,” - he smirked - “at least not yet. I do have a few theories I’m working on in my spare time, but...” hesitating for a moment, he raked a hand through his hair and sent you a nervous smile. “Wouldn’t want to bore you to death, though.”

“Dude, come on, with that smooth and soothing voice of yours? You could read the yellow pages to me and I’d still listen like that--” you mocked a dreamy heart-eyes expression, watching with satisfaction as that remark pushed Neil further into a flustered state.

Apparently, when explicit teasing got a little-to-no reaction now, you could still make him blush with a more wholesome compliment. As you started laughing, he rolled his eyes and scrunched the nose slightly, joining you with a stifled giggle. Grinning, you continued a little softer, “I’m not gonna lie - I probably wouldn’t understand a majority of the physics jargon, but I’d still want to hear all about that.”

A thankful look you got in return made your chest clench painfully, and your mind wandered off to those breaks near the river, and Neil’s animated rants. You knew one thing. Anyone who had ever ridiculed him for his passion for even the nerdiest things could rot in hell, and you’d gladly see to it personally.

A disgruntled huff coming from behind made you both snap out of the moment.

“Oi, lovebirds, I’d appreciate it if you could leave all that to after I prep you for the mission.”

Bottling down your annoyance, you batted your lashes at the commander, who’d just come back with keys to one of the conference rooms near the range.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, you have my full attention now.”

Ives nodded, waving at you to follow him. Meanwhile, Neil’s small smirk let you know that he noticed that faint undertone in your voice, but he said nothing, patiently waiting for the events to unfold.

Another person was waiting for you at the door. You recognized the woman who’d driven you to that abandoned factory on your very first day - you’d never gotten properly introduced, but you remember asking Neil about her once and he called her Wheeler. To be honest, with these guys you never knew if they used their real names, nicknames, codenames, or whatever. Not that you cared, quite used to it in your own line of business. You exchanged a court nod with her and went into the room.

As you sat down at the big table and Ives booted a projector, your eyes bore into the man. Definitely one of those types who enjoyed his beret and the paramilitary structure of the field branch of the organization. Probably a bit too much. You bit back a smug grin.

Those were particularly fun to mess with.

Ives caught your piercing stare and stopped the brief of the location.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you said, propping the chin on your palm, a polite smile on your lips. “It’s fascinating.”

He furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“What is?”

“How your commanding presence literally adds you inches,” you said, using all your willpower to keep a serious face. “I wonder if it works only for your height or--”

Neil’d futile attempts at masking an amused snort with a cough didn’t go unnoticed. Ives shot him daggers and then glared at you. “For fuck’s sake, would you focus?”

Your eyes flared up at the threat in his voice and you pouted, taunting him further.

“Or what, you’re gonna spank me?”

“No, I’m gonna shoot you,” he deadpanned.

You raised a brow.

“Kinky.”

Ives groaned, turning to Neil.

“How you survived this long without choking her is beyond me.”

Neil puffed his cheeks and gestured vaguely, but as he opened the mouth to answer, you chimed in, with a shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, he very much did so, all right.”

The awkward silence that followed was pretty satisfying.

“Can we keep her?” asked Wheeler casually, leaned back in her chair, fiddling with a bullpen.

Ives gaped at you all, then slumped his shoulders in defeat, sliding a hand through his features. He was so done you could almost hear The Sound of Silence playing in the distance, but apparently, his sense of duty was stronger than the urge to leave you without finishing the briefing, so he just drew a deep breath and continued.

“...anyway…”

You caught Neil’s glance and you couldn’t help but poke the tip of your tongue out at him. The mischievous sparks in his eyes reflected your own as he shook his head, tugging the bottom lip between the teeth. Wheeler’s curious gaze flitted between you two, and as you didn’t feel like drawing too much unnecessary attention to yourself anymore, you focused on the plan that Ives was persistently going through.

Time frames. Blueprints. Entry points. Exit routes (you spotted at least one additional way he left out, but you weren’t sure if you could drag Neil through there, judging by that alley performance, so you didn’t bother to mention it out loud). Everything seemed clear enough. You still had no idea how being inverted would affect the lockpicking, but when you voiced that, Ives promised you some time to figure it out before the mission.

The mission. Huh. It wasn’t that much different from your usual assignments - at least if you forgot about that tiny insignificant detail like moving backwards in time - but something in this paramilitary and/or espionage vibe made your heart beat faster with excitement.

It had been quite a long time since you had company at the job. Working alone had its perks, but you wouldn’t mind a trusted partner in crime having your six for a change.

Another thing that you certainly wouldn’t mind - seeing Neil in tactical gear. Not that either of you would need one, but the image got planted in your head and suddenly you wished you’d had a bottle of water.

You realized that everyone was looking at you expectantly. Shit, was there a question or…?

“I’m good,” you said, shooting in the dark, hoping that would be enough to cover your distracted ass.

Ives squinted, but fortunately, that was an acceptable answer.

“Well, as you two can proceed straight from here - Wheeler, they’re all yours.’

“Okay,” - she smiled and stood up - “we don’t have any turnstiles on-site, but there’s one in the base outside the city, I’ll talk you through the basics on the way.”

So that little daydream cost you a chance to come back home to prepare? Grand. The problem was - you needed your heavy-duty tools, but you’d rather eat rocks than back away in front of Ives. Luckily, he called on Neil to wait for a moment, so that was your chance.

“Umm, Wheeler?” you asked quietly, following her outside.

She glanced at you curiously.

“What’s up?”

“I know I said I’m good, but could we stop by my apartment for a second, please?” An awkward grimace ran through your face. “I gotta pick up my tools. You know, just in case.”

She wasn’t surprised by your request. Moreover, she sent you a knowing smile.

“Sure thing,” she said and winked, and then it was your turn to present a slightly flushed face. “I’ve got you.”

----

You didn’t know what to expect from the whole inversion process.

The first time your brain stuttered was when Wheeler pointed at something she called the proving window, just in time for you to see the three of you coming out on the other side. You caught inverted-you glancing back at your present self; the schooled expression, but with the gaze shining with anticipation.

The second time was when it was you on the other side, looking at your wide-eyed past self. Feeling the incoming headache, you took a deep breath and followed Wheeler and Neil to the stand with oxygen masks.

“How are you feeling?” asked Neil, handing you the equipment.

“Weirdly normal.” You shrugged. “Or maybe not more backwards than usual, if that makes any sense.”

He smiled lightly.

“It’s the airlock. When you see the outside, you’ll get a whole new perspective.”

Wheeler nodded. “What he said. And to recap: you’re inverted, the world is not - all forces will be pushing back on you. Besides gravity.” She double-checked the oxygen bottle secured to your belt. “Just mind things that might be rising instead of falling.”

You furrowed the brows.

“Wait, didn’t Ives mention the rain?”

Neil smirked from behind the mask.

“Afraid of getting wet?”

“Never.” You grinned, meeting the sparkling blue eyes. “Should know that by now.”

Wheeler snorted and shook her head, walking to the panel near the exit.

“You’ll have plenty of time to finish the job before you move far enough to catch up on that. Although, if you ever find yourself in the inverted rain, here’s a tip: pop your collar.”

“Why would you--” Oh. The sole thought of the water going up from the ground to the sky made you nauseous. You swallowed with effort, leveling your breath in the mask. “...right.”

Wheeler opened the door and you almost gasped at the view. The golden rays of sunset (...or was it technically a sunrise now?) flickered on the training grounds’ equipment as the sky painted the scarce pools of muddy water with greyish violets and reddening oranges. Leaves shuffled in the wind, their dance almost satirical with that inverted spin.

Wheeler’s voice stopped your mind from wandering further into the landscape.

“Okay, ready? Ives asked me to remind you not to try any cowboy shit, you need to be in one piece at the end of the training.”

“Yes ma’am,” you mocked a salute and stepped outside, stretching your limbs, readjusting to the reality being slightly off. Neil stood right beside you watching you warming up, ready to take you to the obstacles section.

But as soon as the airlock’s doors closed behind you, you spun around, tapping his shoulder - “Tag, you’re it!” - and without waiting for his reaction, you leaped towards the assault course.

Surely that turned out overly optimistic. You counted on the element of surprise and a head start, but Neil had an experience with running while being inverted, while you… well. You tried.

“B+ for effort,” laughed Neil, catching up on you even before you reached the first obstacle and tapping you back. “But you can do better than that.”

“Just you wait!” you retorted and vaulted over a low hurdle, the mild confusion caused by the dumbfounded senses slowly eased up as you tuned out the brain and let the muscle memory guide your movements. Because hey, in the end? Yes, the natural forces were acting up against you. Yes, Neil had years of inverted training behind him. But you’d been challenging different obstacles your whole life, and courses like this one were your favourite playgrounds.

You caught on him by the next wall, playing dirty and tugging at his leg, pulling him down before he could jump to the other side. The exasperated huff he gave you in protest got lost in the squelch of mud under your feet, the sound more like a suction instead of the much-expected splash. Shuddering with disgust at such abomination, you rushed to the set of monkey bars, hearing Neil following up closely. You gritted your teeth, swinging your body to help yourself get through the part, and that’s when you felt a light tap on your foot.

You glared to your left, where Neil was gaining an advantage over you.

“Damn you and your infinite legs, man! It doesn’t count!”

“Losing looks good on you,” he said, landing and then instantly ducking under your reached out hand.

“Too bad it’s not gonna stick,” you scoffed as you ran after him to jump on one of the parallel logs. Balancing was easy enough, even with inversion; it gave you the perfect opportunity to plan ahead, while Neil had to maintain full focus. “Must say - all that sass definitely makes you like... ten percent hotter.”

But you’d taught him well, apparently, and instead of losing his pace, he only shot you a quick glance accompanied by an arched brow.

“Only ten?”

“Dunno, come over here and let me take a closer look,” you teased, getting a short chuckle in response. “No?” - you sighed - “Alrighty then.” And you leaped to the side straight into Neil, pushing him off the log. He yelped and grabbed you by the shirt, the momentum sending you both straight into the mud. You landed on top of Neil, collapsing into his arms for a moment to catch a breath and to stop laughing.

You leaned back to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, maaaybe fifteen,” you panted, booping his mask as you would do to his nose.

Neil snickered and nodded.

“I’ll take it.”

When your gazes met, his features softened, and he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear gently. You smiled behind the mask and sat up, straddling his waist. Neil was studying you closely, his hands grazed your sides and rested on your hips. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you leaned over him again and slowly reached out, and--

“Simba…” you choked out with reverence, brushing a muddy thumb across his forehead.

Tears from the held-back laughter threatened to spill any second as you observed Neil blanking out in utter confusion. The five stages of grief ran through his expression and then he closed his eyes and sighed theatrically.

“The fate of the world is in the hands of a complete madwoman.”

...the what now?

You tilted your head, grinning.

“Aren’t you a little dramatic?”

Then, without a warning, Neil shifted under you, rolling you off him and pinning you down.

“Birds of a feather and all that,” he said, clearly enjoying the way you squealed and squirmed as the mud got under your shirt. “You think you got a hang of the inverted movement already?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. Neil realized your intentions a second too late. A handful of mud splashed on his face and you chuckled with satisfaction. “Yeah, now I think I’m ready to go.”

You turned up at the airlock soon after, looking like something that cat dragged in, but beaming widely. Dreaming of a hot shower and a clean set of clothes, you put down the mask and the oxygen container and headed to the turnstile.

Wheeler was waiting for you near the machine, and seeing the state you were in, she just gaped at you both, trying to come up with an adequate question.

As you noticed her quizzical look, you gave her a thumbs up and smiled.

“If you ain't dirty, you ain't here to party! Wooo!” you whooped, throwing your hands up and trotting past her straight into the turnstile.

Right before reverting yourself back to your original state, you heard Wheeler’s hushed question.

“You two all right?”

And then Neil’s answer.

“Don’t worry, we’re good.”

--------

The truck’s engine hummed steadily, which could only mean you were on some sort of highway. At least the container stopped wobbling, so you could practice in peace.

No wobbles meant no excuses, though. You sighed, readjusting your grip on the tools.

Neil had fallen asleep some time ago, after making sure you figured out the locks and hearing your solemn promise that you would follow him soon.

One day after that eventful night, then inverting and going straight back without proper sleep. You knew he was right and you needed at least a nap. But you couldn’t. Not before you were absolutely sure you got it. The usual locks weren’t that bad. The inverted ones were a whole other story.

It’d taken you long enough to crack them in the safety of your own apartment, without the weird physics, ever-present even within the air-locked container. Without the pressure.

The fate of the world.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You didn’t even know what was that thing you were supposed to retrieve soon. It was okay, you didn’t need to. It was a quite common situation in your work history. That kind of knowledge could be dangerous, after all.

The pin clicked and you sighed again, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the burning sensation even for a moment.

Besides, you were doing it for Neil. The memory of that panicked look on his face when he’d seen the documents was enough to keep you going.

But did he have to say that?

You had to do it. Not only because you felt responsible for him, in a way. What you’d told the boss was true and you weren’t the only one at fault for Neil not being fully ready for that assignment. He was your friend, wasn’t he? And there was no way you’d leave a friend in need.

You pressed your lips together, forcing yourself to breathe.

Probably a stupid joke, nothing more.

But what if he was being serious? What if that thing out there was really that important? And you were about to fuck everything up because you couldn’t get your shit together fast enough to figure out the bloody inverted mechanism again. And with every minute wasted and not spent on resting there was a higher chance of messing up at the actual location.

Hell of a locksmith you were, huh?

The feedback from the tools came with a final warning like a sobering slap. If you were to continue, they would snap any second now.

You let out a shaky breath and retraced from the lock, hiding your face in the palms.

A gentle touch on your shoulder almost made you flinch. Of course, he had to wake up in the middle of your breakdown.

“Go back to sleep, we still have a few hours left,” you muttered into your hands, trying to collect yourself.

“Not before you talk to me,” said Neil as his fingers slid down your arm. He was crouching right beside you, the blue eyes boring into you with concern. “What is it?”

You sighed and shifted in your seat to face him.

“Wanna make sure I got it, that’s all.”

Neil’s brows knitted together.

“But I saw you open that lock once, why--”

“Once! And that’s exactly the problem!” you fumed and glared at the table. “I can’t crack it again, I--” your voice wavered and you gritted the teeth in frustration. “What if it was a stroke of dumb luck? Should I start praying for another one to happen there?”

Another delicate touch, this time on your knees, was enough to make you look back at Neil. A shade of smile tainted his lips as he searched your gaze.

“Someone used to tell me all the time that if you did it once, you can do it again.”

You hung your head and huffed, “Maybe that someone was full of shit.’

“I know for a fact that she wasn’t,” he chuckled, taking the tools out of your clenched fists and putting them back at the table. “She was utterly brilliant,” he continued, reaching for your cramping, trembling hands and taking them in his, ”and always reminded me to take a break instead of agonizing over a stubborn lock.”

That you did, all right. Your laugh sounded awfully close to a sob. God, if you weren’t exhausted.

Mustering enough strength to look him in the eyes, you squeezed his hands, trying to convey all the gratitude in the gesture. And hide that bit of embarrassment, too.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said and his thumbs brushed over your knuckles. “Scoot over.”

You moved back on the provisional bench, making enough space for him to sit next to you. And so he did, not letting go of your hands even for a second. He started rubbing small circles into them and you grunted softly. Neil gave you a knowing smile and soon enough, his fingers glided between your forearms and fingertips, applying pressure to the tensest places, careful strokes and precise moves bringing a much-needed release. You couldn’t help small groans escaping your mouth, every one of them adding to the self-satisfied grin hiding in the corner of Neil’s mouth. But then, instead of teasing you, his features softened and you caught his glance, warm and sheepish.

“I don’t think I properly thanked you for offering to help me with this mission.”

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” you laughed and winced as Neil’s thumbs worked on your wrists. “Don’t thank me yet, we still need to pull it off first.”

“Well, maybe we already have, from the typical point of view,” - he pondered, lighting up - “seeing that we are moving back--”

“Neil, please, I’m all for discussing it later, but right now it’s about to give me a pounding headache.”

When you met his eyes, you noted with relief that he didn’t mind you cutting him off like that. He knew that you were tired, nothing more.

“Right, sorry.” Then he looked at you with determination, suddenly serious. “Whatever happens… thank you. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” you said quietly as your heart ached with unexpected fondness.

Neil smiled, shaking off the sentimental moment. His hands cupped yours and gave them a light squeeze.

“Now would you please get some rest?”

“Will you tuck me in?” you grinned and batted your lashes at him, earning an amused snort in return.

“I can even sing you a lullaby if that means you’ll fall asleep faster,” he said, standing up and tugging at your hand.

“Ah, I’m afraid I’m gonna crash too fast to properly appreciate it,” you giggled as he kited you all the way to the resting area at the front of the container. “But I’m definitely taking a rain check on that.”

“Sure.” One final brush of his thumb over your fingers and he let go of your hand, smirking. “Now sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

-------

Neil proved to be an excellent companion.

You disabled the alarms simultaneously, paying attention to all the possible silent traps. Forcing the main locks went smoothly, almost surprisingly so. For having something of such importance hidden there, the owners of the place seemed strangely old-fashioned; it shone through the antique decor of the lofty apartment as well as the security choices. Too easy. Tuning out an intrusive thought rattling in the back of your head, you scouted the dark rooms, careful not to leave any traces of your presence.

There.

The office you saw in the photos.

...but they’d redecorated.

“That’s one fancy safe they got there,” you said nonchalantly, eyeing the ornament piece of metal lit by your flashlight, “Too bad it somehow got left out at the briefing.”

Neil’s face dropped when he followed you inside the room.

“Christ, and what now?”

Good question. You’d worked with safes before, hell, you’d cracked a fair share of them using simply manipulation. But never going bloody backwards in time. How would that even work? Was it normal or inverted?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

“I’ve got this.” And that’s how you felt, despite the initial panic. There was a method to it, and you had most of the things you needed with you. Perks of overpreparing. The only issue was-- ... “It might take a while, though.”

Neil nodded.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Keep an eye on the time for me, I gotta focus,” you said, reaching into your backpack and accidentally pulling on the thin tube. Right. “...and maybe on the oxygen levels as well?”

“Will do.”

Your brain switched into the challenge mode, and your fingers tingled to give it a try. Armed with a sound amplifier and a little notepad, you sat down next to the safe and got to work.

Figuring out your way in was meant to be a hit and miss, doubly so with the goddamn inversion. But minute after minute, click by click, you determined the first contact points, and the years of experience took you from there. You scribbled numbers and variations in the notepad, fully focused on the task. Almost there.

Another combination. Inhale. Exhale. Pull.

Gotcha.

“Neil?” you called out in the hushed voice as the beam from the flashlight landed on a small metal box of a peculiar shape.

He was next to you in no time.

“That’s it,” he said, kneeling down. He reached inside and took out the box, then carefully placed it inside his backpack. The blue eyes glimmered in the dim light. “Good job!”

“Thanks,” you smiled and closed the safe. “Now let’s get out of here.”

You gathered and packed all your stuff, double-checking for any leftover signs of your entry.

Then you heard it. A faint, slightly off patter against the huge windows. You froze in place as your mind tried to grasp the view of trickles of rain coming up the glass.

Neil glanced outside, not mindful of the absolutely bonkers scene that wiped any coherent thought from your head. Although judging from how quickly his face lost all the colours, the view he got was even more disturbing.

“Christ…” he uttered, shooting you a panicked look. “We’ve got company.”

You dashed to the window to see for yourself. A group of people was crossing the empty street, moving pretty much normally, and that only meant...

Fuck.

“The owners?”

Neil shook his head. “Impossible. The third party, probably.” With his hand already on the holster, he hesitated, considering the options.

But there were only two: fight or flight. The problem was - the numbers didn’t look good for you to try pushing through the crew downstairs. And as for the second one, your initial exit routes seemed to be cut off already.

Although, there was still one path left. You almost smiled to yourself. He was not going to like it.

“Let’s go through the roofs.”

Neil’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” he asked, scanning your face for any sign of doubt.

There was none.

“Yes, but we have to leave right now.”

He swallowed with effort and nodded.

As soon as you bolted out of the apartment and rushed up the stairs, the footsteps coming from the lower levels quickened. Time was running out.

You were about to barge outside when Neil grabbed your hand as if he sensed what was going to happen next. The doors opened and you lost the momentum, startled by the view. Heavy showers replaced the drizzle you saw through the window, intensifying the nauseating effect.

The last strands of sanity threatened to leave you, but Neil’s touch was like an anchor, grounding you and keeping you from spiraling further.

“Which way?” he shouted through the hammering, almost deafening rain.

You blinked rapidly and looked around to match the data from the brief to the actual location.

“Over there!”

Wishing you’d had a goddamn collar to pop, you leaped to the side, guiding Neil through your only escape route. You let go of his hand to vault over the vents, and just as your feet touched the surface again, you heard distant yells behind you. Shit.

The high density of the area was working in your favor, but only for so long. There was meant to be a gap between the buildings sooner or later, and one of them was coming right up. The jump was doable, even for Neil - all you needed was speed and a decent launch.

But when your companion noticed the edge of the roof, he slowed down and stopped by a low parapet wall, cursing.

“No fucking way!”

“Yes fucking way, Neil, come on! We don’t have time!” you urged him as the voices behind you grew louder.

He swallowed with effort, too transfixed on the gap. You bit back an impatient groan and grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look at you.

“Neil, listen to me. You can do this. All you need is a run-up.”

He didn’t seem convinced. You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your own rising panic in check.

“Do you trust me? Yes or no?”

He met your eyes and his features hardened. There.

“I do.”

And when you opened the mouth again, the first bullet whizzed past you. You flinched, but maintained the eye contact, afraid to lose Neil’s newfound confidence. “Then go first, I’m right behind you.”

Neil nodded and backed away quickly. Watching him jump, your heart skipped a beat, but he landed on the other side without too much trouble. Good. Your turn.

You dashed towards the rim and another bullet missed your legs by a hair’s breadth, hitting the parapet wall right ahead of you. A little close to the top, as you noted, jumping on it to leap across the gap.

But the realization came a moment too late. The wall crumbled under your feet.

Enough for you to not make it to the other side.

Someone screamed.

Was it you?

It didn’t matter.

The world dissolved in a flash of agonizing pain.

And darkness.

----

Static beeping. The smell of disinfectants. And your every particle throbbing in dull pain.

Somebody was having a quiet conversation nearby. The Protagonist… and Neil?

A wave of relief flooded over you. He’d made it.

Grunting, you opened your eyes and squinted, waiting for your sight to readjust to the poor light. Weird. Why would they keep you in such a pitch-black room?

“Gents?” you called out, carefully shifting upwards, wincing. “Would you mind getting the lights?”

The conversation stopped and you heard a gasp.

“Lights? But it’s the middle of the day?” said The Protagonist, but Neil cut him off.

“You’re awake!” Footsteps and a sudden touch on your hand. Neil’s voice trembled slightly, as well as his fingers. “Are you okay?”

You bored into darkness, hoping to see the familiar face.

To see anything.

To see.

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #tenet #robert pattinson #neil tenet fanfiction #tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #the protagonist tenet #ives tenet #wheeler tenet #long nights

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ka-writes · 3 years ago

Text

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Notes: I was at camp. Sorry for posting late... in return I gift a long chapter!

——————

In Case you missed it:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 2:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Warning: Characters being trapped, mentions of IVs, Cussing, yelling, characters being restrained, nightmares, mentions of murder, a guy being arrested.

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“Humans are [add text here]”

Chapter 3: A Wild Crow Father has Appeared

Phil wasn’t expecting to be returning to Planet A112 so soon but Wilbur had sent a distress signal and that was the Dream Team Craft’s next stop.

The planet itself stood as a port market place. There were many of these planets around the galaxy, but it was probably the more popular ones for criminal ships and such. Poachers and Scientists alike came here to get supplies to take the biggest beasts in the galaxy, Humans.

Phil never understood the appeal, but both of his sons had gained that sort of adventurous aspect that he had lost so many celestial years ago. He assumed the only reason people ever chased the creatures was to fill their pride.

That was the exact reason Techno had joined the poacher ship three years ago. He only returned when it had crashed three months ago. To this day he has yet to reveal what horrors had gone on the ship.

Wilbur had another reason to go after the infamous creatures. His crave for knowledge was eating him up as was for most scientists. He joined the Dream Team Craft only six months ago and was already heading back to the SBI Craft.

Techno was pacing around the marketplace studying different weapons and supplies. Phil had been standing off to the side, leaning on one of the building walls. Every once and a while he would check his communicator to see where Wilbur was. Thankfully he had turned on his location so Phil could easily watch as he made his way through the maze-like market.

“Is he getting close?” Techno asked running low on patience.

“He’ll be here in two minutes or so.” Phil bit his lip, “You can head back to the ship, I don’t mind waiting for him.”

“I am not leaving you. Prime knows what Wilbur brought back this time.” Techno replied. Wilbur always had a knack for bringing back things he found interesting. This wasn’t the first time he had left the SBI Craft. This would be the 37th since he turned 14. Now he was 24 and the Craft had been designed to handle whatever he brought back. There was a holding room fit for literally any species, a mechanics room full of technology he gained an interest in. A garden and a gardener which was also retrieved by Wilbur. And of course Wilbur’s pride and joy, the laboratory.

“If you want mate..” Phil said, shaking his head.

Not even two minutes later he saw Wilbur coming from the middle of the crowd. He was carrying what looked like a hurt child.

“Well this should be interesting.” Techno mumbled as he spotted Wilbur.

Once the phantom saw them he strode over and they made their way over to him.

“What do you have this time mate?” Phil asked, curiosity filling him to the brim with questions.

“Someone I can’t explain till we get to the ship.” Wilbur states with a tone he had never heard from his son.

After a second of standing awkwardly they had come to a silent agreement to head to the ship.

It took less than five minutes. Wilbur was half sprinting to the lab before Techno’s assistant had even registered that Wilbur was back. Phil gave a quick greeting to the gardener and assistant before following Wilbur to the medical part of the lab. He almost fainted when he saw what was laying on the medical bed.

“I know it looks bad, but I couldn’t help myself.” Wilbur said apologetically, “I know you’re gonna want answers but I really don’t have a lot of time before serious damage is done to him. I’ll explain after I fix him up.” He glanced up with a face full of sincerity.

Phil sighed pushing aside any fatigue and collecting his thoughts. “How can I help?” He states without an ounce of shown-fear in his voice.

Wilbur took a moment before answering. Prime the silence was loud. “Keep everyone out of the lab, and set up another room.. that would be great.” Wilbur said. The worry in his voice was apparent, but Phil said nothing of it. Instead he started on the tasks that came with being the captain of the craft.

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He woke up to LED lights blinding him. Tommy blinked a bit before sitting up.

He was sitting on what appeared to be a hospital bed. An IV was attached to his wrist and there were strange alien restraints attached to his legs but not to his wrists. That would be a mistake if he knew how to take the sticky black cuffs off. Which he didn’t. Plus he was too weak to attempt.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked around. The bed was pushed into the back corner directly across from a window. There was no glass or plastic covering the window, only a shiny force-field looking thing. The window also was the length of the wall. To the right of the window was a little slot and shelf, clearly used to deliver food. To the left of the window was a place for a door. The only thing was there was no visible door, just more of the light blue painted wall. To the left of the space was a bunch of shelves with a bunch of weird toys, games, books, and puzzles. Across from that was a card table and two comfortable chairs. At the end of the bed was a bench looking thing in which the lid lifted up.

All in all the room was clearly used to keep people occupied while keeping a close eye on them. The inhabitants of the ship had prepared it so it could withstand most things. The furniture in the room had been nailed to the floor. The chairs could move either closer or farther from the table with whoever was sitting down using a strange contraption. None of the toys on the lower shelf could be eaten and all games and puzzles were on higher shelves. The books were also all hard covered. There were even plastic bookmarks in a small container next to the shelves. The window was clearly impossible to get through and looked like it would absorb whatever you threw at it. The food shelf had three mechanisms that wouldn’t be easy to get through. There were no vents or places to hide. It was very apparent they had done this sort of thing before.

The last thing Tommy looked for was a light switch. By some sort of luck he spotted it. It was a weird sort of dial thing that was right by the IV stand. It was currently at 100 and he then dialed it down to 35. It was dim enough to sleep but bright enough to see everything clearly. Not even five minutes later he fell into a deep sleep.

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“YOU BROUGHT A HUMAN?!” Tubbo yelled, fluttering his wings furiously, making him hover ever so slightly.

Ranboo swiftly put his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder pushing him back onto the ground. The enderian shifted anxiously making Techno ponder if he was also gripping Tubbo to keep himself grounded. Phil stood near Will expectantly. Wilbur shifted from foot to foot and rubbed his arm, yet kept his head up to look at everyone. Techno was leaning against his security desk, side eyeing the now asleep human.

“I knew you were stupid, I just didn’t know you were this stupid.” Techno stated without a hint of remorse. Wilbur scoffed before attempting to collect himself.

“I couldn’t just leave him there! It was a mission built for researching humans. Meaning they would be doing nasty experiments for prime knows how long!” Wilbur snapped, with a seriousness Techno hadn’t seen since Wilbur brought back the other children on the ship, “He is a kid. Not an adult that had nowhere to go and was doing prime awful things. He is a kid with no family, no home, and barely making it through the day. I read through his file and he has gone through awful shit. I wasn’t gonna let him die in misery too. If you don’t want him on the ship, then I will get myself my own ship.” Wilbur threatened with a tone not to be questioned. Techno took a moment to think through Will’s response before coming up with an answer.

“He can stay. As long as you keep him in line and take care of his rations. He is not to leave his room until we make sure he can do no damage. If anyone wants to visit him, you are either outside the window or I am present. No excuses.” Techno finished satisfied with his answer. Phil may have been the legal captain of the ship, but when it came to rules Techno was always the one to make them.

Phil nodded in agreement. The two children nodded aggressively, both of which clearly had no intention of going near the human’s holding cell. After a minute Wilbur nodded.

“Fine. If those are the rules I will comply.” Wilbur said, “I need to adjust some things, I will assume Techno will be coming with me?” He asked reluctantly.

“Yes.” Techno bluntly said.

“So be it.” Wilbur snapped. Techno just brushed it off as they headed towards the lab cells.

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Tommy was running through the forest on the edge of town.

It was his favorite trail and the only one his parents let him go on alone. Which cost a long series of promises and supplies he had to go with.

Usually he would be running on the trail for fun but this time it was a sprint home. He didn’t know what was wrong but he knew something was wrong. Especially when he saw the blue and red lights light up the evening sky.

“I didn’t do anything you bastards!!” His dad yelled over the sirens. They had him in cuffs repeating the Miranda rights to him as they pushed him into the back seat.

“What’s going on?” All Tommy could manage his throat was tight and he was struggling to hold back angry tears. He caught one of the officers' attention. She smiled softly.

“He got caught doing something bad to his wife.” She said sadly.

“What did he do?!” Tommy cried even louder this time tears slipped down his face. At this point the officer got more serious.

“I am not obligated to say.” She bit her lip before continuing, “Why don’t you go back to your parents?” She replied softly. This was the first time Tommy got angry, not annoyed or that childish angry. The kind of anger that makes you wanna burn the world down. It was a quick flash but enough to make him snap.

“You took my dad…. What did he do to my mom?” Tommy answered coldly. His answer clearly shook the officer.

“Aw kid, I- .. I am sorry.. he killed her.” Tommy already knew the answer. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. He heard someone scream from far away. Maybe it was him, maybe someone else. They pushed him through a series of questions all of which he could barely answer. His mind was somewhere else. He couldn’t calm down. Everything was too much.

He woke up in a cold sweat. Tears were running down his face. His breath was rapid and uneven. He hadn’t had a dream like that for a couple of months, granted he barely slept. After a few shaky breaths he calmed himself enough to grasp where he was. He wiped the tears just in time for the spot where the door was to open.

In stepped Wilbur along with a really tall alien. The tall alien stood in front of the door as Wilbur rushed to Tommy’s bed. Tommy lost control of his breathing, barely calming down.

Wilbur grabbed his hands to which Tommy snapped his head towards the alien. “I want you to breathe with me okay?” Wilbur said softly. He moved Tommy’s hand to his chest and started taking deep breaths. After a minute Tommy managed to even his breath to Wilbur’s pattern. “Good, good. I am gonna take off your IV since you don’t need it anymore. After that I can get you some food and water, then we can talk alright?” Wilbur said, keeping his tone soft and slow. Tommy rubbed his eyes and nodded.

Wilbur took his arm, there was a small pinch then the IV was off. Wilbur quickly left and came back after about two minutes. Within those two minutes Tommy got a better look at the other alien.

The alien had light pink ruff skin with neat pink hair tightly braided. They were wearing a puffy cream shirt that was tucked into dark brown pants, which were tucked into black boots that went up to their knees. Their knees bent backwards and the boots were shaped weirdly, like they were built for hooves. They had hooves where their hands would be, that somehow had thumbs. They also had tusks poking out of their mouth. Along with blood red eyes that had white pupils. Their ears poked out of their hair and were both torn and pierced with gold earrings. They also had a gold chain necklace with a stone that resembled an Emerald. They also wore a black belt with a gold clip. Attached to the belt was an alien sword leaning against their right hip, on the other side was what resembled a gun.

Tommy swallowed down food that was threatening to come up. He waited patiently for Wilbur to come back, trying his hardest not to stare at the other alien.

“My name is Techno. He/him. Same with Wilbur and most of the crew. The only one who has other pronouns is Ranboo who goes by he/they.” Techno, stated bluntly. Tommy collected himself before responding.

“I am Tommy Innit, er- he/him.” Tommy finished with a shaky voice.

Luckily the awkward tension didn’t last long as Wilbur practically sprinted through the door, shoving Techno out of the way. He pulled a tray that was neatly folded out of the wall and put a glass of water and some food on a plate.

“Some parskey with hatatoes. It tastes good I promise.” Wilbur explained. He then went to grab something he left outside and sat at the card table. He put two plates down and Techno joined him. The door closed after that. There was no button or anything, it just closed. Tommy was a little baffled by it but looked towards the food put in front of him.

It was a white meat, similar to chicken, with a brown version of mashed potatoes. He looked over to the other two who were talking in a different language while eating the same food. With that Tommy decided it was okay to eat. Just like what it reminded him of, it tasted like chicken and mash potatoes with small differences. Like the meat was dryer and more salty and the potatoes were a little sour. Either way it was still good. He then drank the water. There was no odd taste this time so he assumed it wasn’t drugged.

Once he finished he attempted to listen in but was only met with a series of strange sounds. He gave up and pushed the tray away. Almost too quickly he fell into a deep sleep. He didn’t even notice when the visitors took their stuff and left.

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Ranboo poked at his food glancing up every once and awhile. The two crew members had returned from the human’s room and decided to finish their food with the rest of the crew. Everyone sat in a tense silence.

“So,” Phil clapped his feathered hands and turned towards Wilbur. “What do we know about the kid?” He asked.

“His name is Tommy Innit, pronouns he/him. He is 14 and was living on the run for six months. No family according to him and he’s allergic to nuts.” Wilbur answered.

“From what I can tell he isn’t super dangerous, just fearful. He already trusts Wilbur, somehow. Though I think it is due to Wilbur saving his life. It will be harder for the rest of us to gain his trust.” Techno added. Ranboo swiftly wrote the responses down, making sure to keep major notes.

The rest of dinner was uneventful and everyone awkwardly washed dishes and went to bed. Assumingly to sleep. Everyone except Ranboo that is. He couldn’t wash dishes due to his biology and he didn’t really sleep. Every time he tried the void would wake him up or he would go into a half-conscious state that the crew deemed as enderwalking.

So for what felt like the hundredth time they stayed awake laying in bed. This time however their mind was racing with thoughts. Traveling through situations that used to seem impossible before the human boarded the ship. Still curiosity was eating their insides.

With a half made up mind Ranboo shot up in bed. They stalked over to where the human was being held and peered into the window.

Almost instantly the human sat up. After yawning and getting into a position he was comfortable in he just stared at Ranboo making them incredibly uncomfortable.

“Who are you?” The human asked, Ranboo couldn’t remember his name.

“Oh! Uh, I am Ranboo.. I am kinda like an assistant, I-I guess.” Ranboo said, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Ah cool. I am the biggest man! Tommy Innit. You should be grateful to be in my presence.” The human practically flowed with confidence making Ranboo question if all humans were like this. He shook off the questions and turned back to the human who was now playing with the light monitor.

“So… what was your planet like?” Tommy asked, startling Ranboo a bit. “I-I mean you don’t have to answer of course.. just wondering..” the human stuttered. They took a moment to go through their thoughts, narrowing down what they could.

“I guess it was peaceful.. in a way.. no one really fell out of line. It was unified, creating a peaceful haven. It wasn’t like people couldn’t fall out of line it’s just they didn’t want to. M-most of them were content with the way they were… but if there was something wrong they would absolutely take any measure to destroy it.” Ranboo finished bitterly, trying to shake off his old hurt of how they treated him. “W-what about your planet?” Ranboo asked.

“Ah.. Earth is interesting to say the least… We don’t all follow the same rules. And there is a lot of falling out of line… But I guess that’s what gave it a certain charm and a certain aspect that made it brutal.” Tommy finished his serious tone melting in an instant, “But that’s there not here! I wanna know what everything is like.” He said looking at Ranboo with curiosity.

That’s how Ranboo created a bond with the strange blond creature. They bounced from topic to topic mainly ending with one of them going into a deep explanation of one thing or another. They talked until both of them ended up passing out sitting next to the window.

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Chapter 3- End

Words- 3,212

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Techno- “Don’t go near the human without my presence.”

Ranboo- ._.

Ranboo- Ima do it... >:p

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(That was a bad one but oh well..)

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End Notes: I got carried away a bit... I have a few more filler chapters before we start actually getting into the plot.. also after this should I start a super hero AU?

Ignore minor mistakes... I did reread through it this time so there shouldn’t be too many...

As always likes are nice but reblogs are better! Please share this with people of you enjoyed, I hope you did!

Go get some water, sleep, eat food, and stay safe!! Love y’all <3

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Chapter 4:

#dream smp fanfiction #tommy mcyt #tubbo #ranboo #wilbur soot #philza #techno #sbi au #alien au #my fanfic tag #my writing #reblog

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mari-beau · 3 years ago

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GIVE ME A REASON: PART ONE -A Rogue One Fanfic

So… This is my playing with Jyn and what happened Post-Scarif in my headcanon where Cassian and Jyn survive. Sort of a companion piece to my fic ‘Partners’ (in that it takes place in the same sort of AU).

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part One

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: None? (references to scars/wounds and some hurt/comfort, angst? Half-nakedness? Jyn being a bit of an overprotective b****?)

Words: 1283

Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

There was a buzzing in Jyn Erso’s head. It cut through the blissful haze, sharp and shrill.

No.

Was her first and only thought. The buzz stopped.

Mmm, better. She turned her face into the fragrant warmth of bare male skin, and sleep settled back over her like a blanket.

Another shrill buzz tore that pleasant blanket of contentment off her with a jarring shock.

Fine.

She opened her eyes, found her companion still fast asleep -which was good, he needed it- realized the buzzing was the door chime and made her best attempt to slip out of the bed without waking him. Fortunately, his sleep over the past few days had been more akin to comatose unconsciousness, and he didn’t even stir.

Son of a Vekrak.

Jyn looked around the small military quarters but ultimately gave up. Her clothes had disappeared when she’d woken up in the infirmary, replaced with a medical tunic and pants, which were currently in a pile buried beneath other dirty clothes in the corner of the room. But any body parts the sight of which would scandalize most species, were covered, and as for others, well that was whoever was disturbing her nap’s problem.

And she had to get to the door to cease the annoying buzzing alarm before the idiot disturbed her companion as well. Or else, she might not be responsible for what she did to them.

Not if they caused Cassian Andor any harm, in any form, even if it was just waking him up.

Jyn tapped the door controls a little harder than necessary, but preempted another buzz of the chime, the intruder standing in the hall with their finger raised to the outside controls.

It was a woman, in Alliance uniform, who promptly came to attention. Why exactly, Jyn couldn’t guess. Jyn may have led a tragedy of a suicide mission on behalf of the rebellion, but she hadn’t officially joined up, had no rank (or probably right to even be) on the Yavin 4 base.

Oh.

The formality of the woman’s response was to mitigate her obvious surprise and discomfort. Her blue eyes wandered about rather frantically, taking in Jyn’s appearance, the quarters behind her, the bed with the (hopefully still) sleeping captain who looked like he’d been through a war, which he literally had. Her eyes went back to Jyn, avoiding her face, lingering a little bit too much on the non-soldier’s bare legs. Apparently, the undergarments she had borrowed from Cassian’s meager stock of clothing did not merit ‘decent enough to answer the door’.

It wasn’t like they were too tight, revealed too much… Okay, so the sleeveless undershirt was thin enough that Jyn’s nipples probably showed through, but while it probably fit Cassian pretty snug, it was not like it was skin tight on her. And the undershorts were likewise a little loose, which had forced her to roll the waistband down to below her hip bones. But still… Hadn’t the woman ever seen another woman sleeping in a man’s undergarments?

Blue eyes darted to Jyn’s rat’s nest hair, fell to her mostly exposed shoulder, the one with the angry looking blaster scar, still fresh, pink and aggressively thickly textured.

Jyn sighed. Honestly, could she blame the woman for staring?

“Can I help you?” she asked, taking pity on the soldier.

“Uh, yes, uh… Miss Erso.” The blue eyes finally settled on Jyn’s face and the woman seemed to steel herself to face the uncivilized heathen. “I’ve been sent with a request from Command for Captain Andor.”

Jyn narrowed her eyes as the woman’s gaze slid past the half-dressed civilian again, this time for more than a glance at the man lying in the bed, who was even more naked than Jyn was, as she’d left him in just a pair of undershorts, a lightweight blanket only covering his hips and upper thighs. Parts of him were still covered in bandages, his skin discolored with bruises both dark and faded, a fresh blaster scar on his side to match Jyn’s. Nearly every vulnerable part of him was exposed. But the base was on a farking jungle moon, and while the higher ups’ quarters likely had decent environmental controls, it could get stifling in the lowly spy-captain’s small room, especially with two bodies squeezed into the same narrow cot.

But Jyn wasn’t about to sleep anywhere else. For her own sanity, she had to be close, until she was certain he could protect himself again. He was too vulnerable as he recovered from his Scarif injuries. He was too vulnerable to be ogled by some Alliance messenger girl.

Putting a hand on the doorframe, Jyn moved to fill the space as best she could with her petite body, blocking the other woman’s view of Cassian as much as she could.

“He can’t take any of Command’s orders,” Jyn said, knowing the underling didn’t deserve her disdain but unable to keep the bitterness from showing. Cassian had given everything just short of his actual death to the rebellion. “He’s on medical leave.”

Force, he couldn’t yet stay awake for more than a handful of hours a day, could barely stand upright, let alone walk more than a few steps.

“They want you both to come to the ceremony this evening,” the messenger girl said hastily, slurring most of the words together as Jyn reached for the door controls to close it in the soldier’s face.

Jyn hesitated, completely thrown. “Ceremony?”

“To recognize the heroes that defeated the Death Star. And to honor those who lost their lives, in that battle. And on Scarif. As the only Alliance survivors, Command wanted you and Captain Andor to be present.”

Jyn rolled her eyes. What difference to the dead did it make? Why should she care about appeasing Command’s conscience? It wasn’t worth dragging Cassian from his recovery to be paraded about so the Alliance could feel good about itself. Jyn had done what needed doing, just as Cassian had, just as the others had. It was pain and sorrow and death. And no amount of ‘thank you for your valor’ or whatever bantha shit would make it better.

The satisfaction, the only justification that soothed Jyn’s conscience, was that they had done the job, had defeated Krennic. But what if Cassian needed more to assuage any survivor’s guilt he’d been accumulating? Beneath that stoic exterior of his, she sensed a very soft, troubled soul.

“I’ll tell the captain when he wakes,” Jyn said. “It’s his decision. He might not be up to it.”

“I’ll inform Command that you may be absent.” The soldier shifted her weight. “It starts in 3 hours.”

Jyn frowned. “That’s kind of last minute.”

“Well, once the decision was made to evacuate, there was a bit of a rush to-”

“Evacuate?!” Force, you hole up in a man’s bed for a few days and you lose all touch with the outside world.

“Uh, yes. The Empire is sending a fleet as fast as possible to destroy Yavin base.” It was apparent on the woman’s face that this quick task someone had sent her on was turning into a conversation she hadn’t bargained for. “Someone should be around with your evacuation unit assignment soon. Captain Andor will probably either be grouped with his Intelligence garrison or…” Another glance at the unconscious wounded man (which Jyn didn’t know why it irked her that someone dared look at him, but it got her temper up fierce). “Or he’ll be put in with medical evac.”

The soldier had made no implication either way, and Jyn didn’t even bother asking whether she’d be assigned to the same unit as Cassian. Because it didn’t matter what the Alliance said, Jyn wouldn’t be leaving his side.

Read Part Two

#fic: Give Me A Reason #Rogue One #fanfiction #rebelcaptain #Jyn Erso #Cassian Andor #but like mostly Jyn in this chapter #hurt/comfort #possessive!Jyn #this is going to be multiple chapters/scenes #but like I needed to get it out before moving onto the trash 'mission fic' that's plaguing my imagination

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msmarvelwrites · 4 years ago

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The Winter Ghost - Part 13

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn’t and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, some smutty thoughts...

w/c: 2.2k

A/N: Lucky number 13! I’m honestly so caught off gaurd by all the love Ive been receiving on The Winter Ghost. I see all your late night binge sessions and I am SO immensely greatful for your interest. When I first started writing this I didnt really think anything of it, but youve all lit a fire under my ass and for that, I thank you! So please, enjoy and reblog and like if you feel so inclined.

His hot breath fanned across your face, sending you into a frenzy like state you had never known before. Heavy breathing, mostly on your part as he placed excruciatingly slow kisses across your jaw. You needed him. More than you’d ever needed anything in your life. It made you sick.

“Are you afraid?” He asked in a low seductive voice. Swiftly he wrapped his metal fingers around your throat, applying enough pressure to make you gasp. You clawed at his chest, drunk on his murderous touch. You wanted him to make you hurt as bad as your heart did. You couldn't possibly hate a person more than you hated yourself right now.

“Answer my question.” He shouted, sending a ripple of ecstasy through your body.

“No. I could never,” You gasped, choking as the walls of your throat began to collapse.

“Liar.” He sneered.

You let out an involuntary moan.

“You good, Y/n?” Sam asked, sitting next to you on the couch as he, Nat, Wanda and Shuri all ate breakfast around the kitchen island. Your hand was lightly wrapped around your neck where Bucky’s was just a moment ago.

“Yeah, fine.” You squeeked.

But you weren't. You hadn’t been since that morning in the hallway with Bucky. You could still feel the sting he had left behind from his touch. What was wrong with you? You couldn't even begin to unpack that question. Psychiatric help would be a start, though.

After your memory had returned, the nightmares seemed to subside, only to be replaced with the image of Bucky, devoid of all emotion, seething in rage at your quips. By the third night, you would have gladly have traded, knowing that this was so much worse.

You couldn't keep excusing your vile thoughts as his fault. They weren't, not entirely. You were the one waking up a needy mess every morning.

“Hey.” Bucky's husky voice filled your senses causing you to stiffen at the sound. The team around you said their hello’s while you tried to refrain from gawking. You had done your very best to avoid him as much as you could, but there were only so many places to hide. Whenever you bumped into each other he would keep his head down and you would run in either direction.

“Steve’s on his way back today. He left to meet Vision and gather intel on an active Hydra base located somewhere on the border of Germany.” Wanda’s eyes lit up at the mention of the name. This must be the famous Android she's always gushing about.

“Pack up… We ship out first thing tomorrow morning.” Bucky declared, peaking your interest. It had been way too long since you had been back in the field, this was amazing. You could feel the excitement bubbling out of your chest vanish when Bucky’s eyes glanced at you.

“Y/n, you can uh, keep Shuri company while we're away.” You blinked at him, unsure if you had heard him correctly.

“No fucking way.” You scoffed. You were not missing out on this opportunity to give Hydra a taste of their own ‘serum’, so to speak.

‘Captain's orders.” He deadpanned, averting his gaze to the ceiling. You stared at him, lost for words with needy eyes. He’d never tell you, but it terrified him when you looked like that. Small, fragile, though he knew better. He would kill himself before he tainted you. But that didn't make the idea any less intriguing.

“And since when do you listen to Captain's orders?” Nat spoke up before you even got the chance. You nodded violently, looking back to Bucky who only sighed.

“You know very well why she can't go.” He muttered, fighting tooth and nail not to look at you again. You could sense his uncomfortability but you couldn't look away.

“She’s not going, then I’m not going.” Wanda sulked.

“Me too.” Sam mocked her tone. “Seriously, Buck. She’s a tank, we could use her.” He finished, more serious this time.

Bucky huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his flesh fingers. “You gotta take that up with Steve. He and I aren't really on the best of terms right now.” He spoke, annoyance dripping from the last sentence.

“Easy, I’ll take care of it.” Nat said to Bucky, but she sent a wink at you.

You were so excited you almost leaped from your seat. You couldn't wait to blow some shit up!

……………………………………….

The next morning you woke up extra early, just to get a jump on everything. Nat had fought with Steve all last night, but eventually he conceded on the sheer fact that if you were there, it would mean double the Wanda power. This was a big base, one he had known of for quite some time now, but it required extra attention. They had been working on recreating your serum, but so far to no avail. You knew exactly where they were going wrong of course. But Steve explained they had been testing it out of Hydra members. The lucky few who survived may not have your powers, but they were still strong. He’d need all the help he could get.

After you were packed you dragged your duffle to Shuri’s lab. She had been working on a few new weapons she wanted you to pack. Just in case, she said. You got there in no time flat, literally vibrating with excitement.

“You're sure about this?” She asked.

“Absolutely.” You beamed. She signed, and handed you a small ring.

“What's this?” You asked, holding the small band in your fingers.

“It’s a beacon. It will help you hold onto your borrowed energies for longer. It’s like a mini you, only better.” She paused, “Speaking of, are you going to tell me what's in that serum of yours or am I just going to have to keep guessing?”

“I think it’s better kept unsaid. That thing had already caused enough problems. No one should be burdened with it.”

“Maybe so.” She signed.

“Thank you Shuri. For everything.” You half heartedly smiled but before you could leave her arms were around you, pulling you into a hug. You sucked in a breath and tapped her on the back in reciprocation. Physically affection was never something you were good at showing, try as you may.

When you finally pulled away she sent you a soft smile, and wished you good luck on the mission before you headed out the door.

……………………..

“Nice of you to grace us with your presence.” Steve muttered, when you finally got to the jet when the rest of the team was loading up.

“It is, isn't it?” You spoke sweetly, throwing your duffle onto the jet. You still weren't really sure where you stood with Steve. Of course you knew of the famous Captain America, even if you didn't remember a few weeks ago. But never did you imagine he would be such a class act dick. Or maybe he was just that way with you? The idea made you smirk, knowing you were the only one to really piss off the Captain was honestly the highest form of flattery.

You boarded the jet and noticed the rest if the team already suited up. The tactical gear Shuri had made you was tight, and Natasha was living proof of that. I mean, it wasn't fair she had the body of a trained ballerina and New York supermodel. The woman was easily the most beautiful woman you had ever seen while your gear clung to you in all the least flattering ways.

You quickly shook off the self doubt. It didn't matter how you looked, you were here to kick some ass.

Well, not exactly.

That morning Steve had announced that while the rest of the team ‘kicked ass’ you and the Soviet spy would sneak into their mainframe and collect the data of whatever new evil scheme Hydra was working on.

Though you weren't thrilled to be stuck on recon duty, it was better than nothing. Besides, you were just a little rusty. Though Nat and Sam kept you busy and Wanda had taught you all her tricks, you weren't sure that if it came down to it you'd be able to pull the trigger.

Better safe than sorry.

“Are you nervous?” Bucky spoke under his breath, his voice deep and rough. You shivered at the sound. You hadn't realised until this moment that he was seated directly behind you.

“Are you?” You asked. You tried to add some bite to your words, but they left your lips softly. The tone seemed to surprise Bucky as much as it did you as he half expected to to tear his head off again.

“Sometimes. But, not now.”

“Oh yeah?” Words betraying you once again.

Ignore him.

Stop talking to him.

Stop. Talking.

Bucky's tongue slipped from between his lips, tugging on his bottom one slowly and effectively knocking you back from your annoying thought and to the glorious man sitting behind you.

“Yeah. Got this new girl on our side. She’s a totally badass. I know she’ll watch my six.” He shrugged causing a small smile to pull at the corner of your mouth.

“How do you know she won't just leave you for dead?” She asked, playing along. Part of you, however, was just a little curious. Part of you wanted to ask yourself the same question. In a second, would you protect the man who murdered Tommy? Honestly you weren't really sure.

“Just a feeling.” He spoke so casually. So sure, you wanted to believe him. It would be easy enough to feed him to Hydra, but you and him both knew you wouldn't have the stomach for it.

“Huh. You sound pretty confident in that.” You sneered sarcastically.

He just gave you a small shrug, leaning back into his seat and pulling his bluetooth earbuds out of his back pocket. He offered one to you casually. Before you could protest your arm shot out and took it, placing it in your right ear.

“I like to listen to music before a mission. It calms me.” He suggested, opening his phone, scrolling through his songs before the intro to Highway to Hell began playing.

A grin spread across your face “I love this song!” You beamed.

“I know. I remember you telling me something about spending an entire year listening to AC/DC cause’ your dad loved their music. I downloaded a few of their albums after that. Not exactly what I’m used to, but definitely good ass kicking music.” He nodded.

That stopped you dead in your tracks. You couldn't help the smile that faded quickly from your lips at his words. You were, to say the least, shocked. You must have mentioned your love for the band at some point, but honestly couldn't for the life of you remember when.

But he did. And he listened to it because you liked them.

“Huh.” You repeated, turning back around and trying to suppress the butterflies that began erupting out of your stomach. You could hear Bucky behind you drumming his hands on his thighs along to the song. You couldn't help but giggle at how offbeat he was.

“Take off in five minutes. Everyone ready?” Nat spoke through your coms. Everyone gave a thumb up as the jets engine whirled on, vibrating through the aircraft.

You listened carefully as your song faded away and the next one took its place.

Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways?

You could physically feel Bucky’s mood shift behind you. The Super Soldier serum granting you access to his quickened heart beat and the lyrics mirrored the every present emotions you had been feeling this week.

Sad to see you go. Was sorta’ hopin’ that you’d stay.

You let your mind wander as you listened to Bucky hum along quietly to the song, low and soft. The sound sending chills down your spine as the memory of your dreams from the past few nights replayed over in your mind.

Baby, we both know. That the nights were mainly made For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day.

Bucky’s lips trailed along your swollen throat, the feeling of pleasure over bruises he had left behind caused you to moan in ecstasy. The way he kissed you, not like before. This time full of lust and something dark. His hands dipped under your shirt, the feeling of hot and cold sending you over the edge as your eyes rolled back in your head. You wanted nothing more than for him to throw you against a wall, any wall and tear you limb from limb.

“I like this song too.” Bucky’s breath fanned across the back of your ear, rocketing you back to the Jet that was beginning to take off. You looked around the small space, praying that Bucky was the only one to notice your breath hitch in the back of your throat.

Any reminisce of the idea that you had to stay away from Bucky shattered into a million pieces. The hate, still ever present, but you knew damn well that would be the best part. It only fueled your desire. He was going to be the death of you.

Or even better, you'd be the death of him...

.....................................................................................................................

A/N: Gah! Thank you for reading! And thank you to @cutie1365 for being the best hype woman/ editor around lol. Leave a like or reblog if you wanna show some love. I hope yall’ are having a great week!

@kalesrebellion

@projectcampbell

@calwitch

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 5 years ago

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ᴊᴏᴇꜱᴛᴀʀ ꜱʏɴᴅɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ | Yakuza!AU | Head Canons | 19+ [𝕁𝕁𝔹𝔸]

[JOESTARS] [JOBROS i] [JOBROS ii] [JOBROS iii] [JOBROS iv]

Here is the next part to the headcanons~! I’m so happy you guys like this so much! ;; I’m excited to write more for this AU~! After this it’ll be one more Jobros and then the one-shots, drabbles, etc will follow through~!

» » Admin Ko

»»————-　♔　————-««

𝕆𝕜𝕦𝕪𝕒𝕤𝕦 ℕ𝕚𝕛𝕚𝕞𝕦𝕣𝕒 [21]

Josuke’s most trusted right hand man. Though many within Josuke’s faction really question whether or not the psychologically unstable male should be the right hand man. With the onslaught of crimes and cynical things the man has done, they’re surprised he isn’t one of the torturers or clean up men.

Within a week, however, their minds change at how utterly fast the male reacts to a threat made to the Higashikata. From then, no one really questions why Okuyasu is the right hand instead of Koichi.

Besides being the right-hand, Okuyasu is Josuke’s most trusted bodyguard. All of the Joestar siblings know and recognize this and honestly don’t even try to go against the young male.

One of the most terrifying assassins within the group, and is recognized by Lisa Lisa as a man with potential and power to make his enemies cower.

He honestly feels indifferent about all of Josuke’s siblings and makes decent conversation with most of them.

Out of all the commanders within the younger Joestar line, he’s well acquainted with practically all of them and has no problems when both he and Josuke visit Giorno or Jolyne.

𝕂𝕠𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕚 ℍ𝕚𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕖 [20]

The literal brains and planner of the Higashikata faction.

He is literally the most trusted man who keeps connections between Giorno and Josuke. Every other week he’s usually sent to Italy to update the Don on the happenings at the main base along with any of the commotions that may have occurred that he should keep an open ear for.

Alongside Yukako, the pair make a rather deadly assassin duo. His skill with quick tactical deductions and quick thinking pairs well with her inhumanely quick reflexes and desire for blood as they’ve taken out quite a number of individuals that were planning on trying to overtake the small town of Morioh.

Besides being one of the main assassins, he’s also one of the main interrogators alongside Rohan. He may not seem like it at first, but Koichi takes immense pleasure in seeing the victim mentally break before him. The information that falls out of the victim always being written at great speeds by Rohan.

ℝ𝕠𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕓𝕖 [25]

A stick in Josuke’s side, but still a crucial person to the Higashikata team.

In all honesty, both he and Josuke are usually at each other’s throats because of the clash of personalities. Though when they work their differences out on rare occasions, they are definitely a force to be reckoned with.

The main source of information and stalker expertise. He had actually traveled to Italy on a couple of occasions and took lessons from both Leone and Bruno in the art of watching and shadowing a target for information.

Besides being the informant, he absolutely loves to interrogate people. His dislike of getting himself dirty though leaves Koichi with the more heavy duty portion of the job, but always provides the younger with the most amount of information and will do any favors asked without a moment’s hesitation.

He personally doesn’t consider himself friendly, or to even have friends; but he does consider the Higashikata gang--- really the Duwang gang-- as his home.

𝕐𝕦𝕜𝕒𝕜𝕠 𝕐𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕚 [21]

Similar to Rohan, she isn’t necessarily on the best of terms with Josuke. Though it was immensely worse when they had first met. Now, they’re on better speaking terms but still there’s an unsettling tension between the two if there’s no one there as a mediator.

The Duwang gang’s number one assassin. Her shadowing and quick kill skills are rather legendary within the Duwang gang. Whenever she visits the main base she takes lessons with Lisa Lisa, and like Rohan, had visited Italy on more than one occasion to improve her shadowing technique from Bruno and Leone.

Her skills lie mostly in sniping and quick strangulation via fishing line. She once used her own hair and relished in the fact, but found it to be too risky as she didn’t want to leave any evidence behind.

Out of all the members, she works the best alongside Koichi and gets the most done with him.

𝔹𝕣𝕦𝕟𝕠 𝔹𝕦𝕔𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚 [25]

Giorno’s most trusted man. Literally everyone in Passione and the Joestar family trust this man.

Despite being the main cause of Passione’s previous leader’s downfall. He choose to not take the position of Don. Instead, felt that it would be better if he stood alongside someone with strong ideals and beliefs in their own work and dreams.

He is the most skilled in assassination with high respect from Lisa Lisa. He does like to teach any of the newer recruits any necessary skills, and is always open to having guest commanders from other factions over to learn from one another.

Easily one of the most feared men within Passione.

𝕃𝕖𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝔸𝕓𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕠 [26]

Similar to Rohan with Josuke, Leone is not on the best terms with Giorno. The only difference is that this is a one-sided relationship as Giorno tries hard to appease everyone within his faction in terms of respect.

Second to Bruno, he is the most feared member within Passione. Mainly because of his no nonsense attitude and ability to crack a man’s skull open with only three hits.

He is one of the main assassins that’s sent out to get rid of competing gangs.

Prefers to work alongside Bruno whenever he can, but doesn’t mind working with the other members.

𝔾𝕦𝕚𝕕𝕠 𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒 [23]

Besides having tetra-phobia, he is one of the best marksman within Passione, falling second to Johnny Joestar.

Despite being one of the more casual and laid-back member, he is quite the force to be reckoned with out on the field.

He most definitely leaves an impression on the Joestar family when they first meet him and become absolutely surprised at how well he manages to hold up against Johnny in a marksman competition.

Besides Leone, Guido is one of the other assassins that helps to not only deal with threats to Passione, but threats to the Joestar family.

Out of all of the members, he works the best alongside Narancia and Giorno (Though Giorno rarely goes on missions now because of the amount of work he has now.)

ℕ𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕚𝕒 𝔾𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕘𝕒 [22]

The most chaotic and one of the most unstable members within Giorno’s chain of command.

Despite his age and how he looks, Narancia is a seasoned veteran in the field of torture and death.

Absolutely, positively loves to cause misery and despair to his enemies and will undoubtedly torture them for his own personal pleasure if he has the spare time to do so.

Besides being one of the assassins, he’s also part of clean-up duty with Trish and helps bring back any bodies that can later be used as autopsy and study material for the forensics analyst.

ℙ𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕒 𝔽𝕦𝕘𝕠 [23]

The second unstable member within Giorno’s chain of command. Unlike Narancia, his bouts of insanity stem mainly from emotional stress.

He’s the team’s medic, strategist, and interrogator. He most definitely enjoys ripping information out of victims, and has no qualms in using inhumane methods in gathering that information.

He mainly works alongside Giorno and Trish when it comes to anything pertaining the medical field.

Besides working within the medical field, Fugo absolutely loves to work with dangerous poisons and bacteria that’ll leave the victim in absolute pain.

As unlikely as it would seem, he works alongside Cioccolata much more than one would expect.

𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕌𝕟𝕒 [21]

The clean-up crew. Despite her appearance and no nonsense attitude, Trish loves to learn various ways of getting rid of a corpse as well as how the human body decays with time.

Her extensive research in the decaying process and experimentation process with...live test subjects help further the connections that can be drawn to Passione and the Joestar family.

Not only that, but it makes for a very nice item on the market to help smaller ‘businesses’ get rid of any threats they deem worthy of her work.

She enjoys working alongside Fugo and Narancia whenever she gets the chance to.

Definitely teases and makes fun of Guido when she works alongside him, and won’t hesitate to yell at him if he happens to wreck a potential test subject.

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spicysoftsweet · 5 years ago

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A Very Important Episode starring Hisoka

Or the one where Hisoka learns Bungee Gum is not a food group.

A/N: We all know that Hisoka likes candy and Bungee Gum but we would like to encourage Hisoka to make healthier choices and prevent diabetes complications. There will possibly be a part 2. I hope this is educational.

---

This time Hisoka had actually done it. He’d actually managed to fuck up his entire body beyond what he could repair with Bungee Gum or Machi’s services - which she was charging higher and higher for - and now he was somewhere almost unthinkable - an emergency room.

“Illumi~~~~” he half-sang, half-whined now that he was finally lucid, after undergoing an exploratory laparotomy to stabilize his profuse internal bleeding - the surgeons had been in awe of just how much of his body had been purely synthetic due to Texture Surprise exclaiming that he’d be an incredible case to write up - and being amped up full of pain meds. He probably didn’t need the pain meds, but it was fun to go in and out of consciousness; he couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual night of sleep.

His unwilling friend sat at the side of his hospital bed, legs crossed and focusing his jarringly large, black eyes at the fluid and blood that was being transfused into him by IV drip. A small part of him was surprised that Hisoka could be transfused with regular looking blood and regular looking fluid. He was almost sure that he was made up purely of nonsense and Bungee Gum.

“Illumi~” Hisoka moaned dramatically a second time. His gaze slid now to him, with lips pressed into a flat line of distaste.

“Don’t ever use my name as your emergency contact again.”

Illumi had to hide the fact that he was impressed Hisoka could spell clearly enough to make out the letters of his name and had actually retained his phone number. He had been surprised to get a call, but made his way over as soon as he had finished gutting an enemy and stringing them up for display as requested in his latest contract. The idea of Hisoka being dead was incredibly alarming, for he did enjoy his health and company, but also sparked a morbid curiosity in him. Could Hisoka actually die?

“But you came, didn’t you?” Hisoka teased, with a shit-eating grin.

He had him there.

There was a soft knocking on the door, and a young woman in a white coat, followed by a taller man wearing a pair of scrubs came in. The young woman glanced at Hisoka and then Illumi, visibly wincing at the hard stare of the latter in the semi-dark room, then raised her badge to introduce herself.

“H-hello, I’m Dr. Rhgyl, I-” her eyes flickered to Illumi briefly, unsettled by the fact that he hadn’t yet blinked in the past two minutes, then shifted back to Hisoka, whose devilish smile was almost more unsettling. “I was one of your surgeons and am here to answer any questions you have.”

She turned to Illumi, and gave a nervous nod of the head. “And who is in the room with you, Mr. Morow?”

“My husband,” he said, in a sickly-sweet voice. Illumi gave him a glare, then crossed his arms.

“Sure,” was all he said.

Sure, what? What is sure? Just answer the damn question... The poor young doctor’s face fell as she already knew this was something she’d have to spend unnecessary minutes during her already excessively long call night clarifying in her documentation. She turned to her nurse behind her, who gave her a small shrug.

“So uh, Mr. Morow, how is your pain?”

“It’s wonderful!”

The doctor again tried to conceal her internal screaming, and continued to keep her professional smile plastered on her face. “In that case, please let us know if you have any more pain, and your nurse will take care of it.”

“We do have one other issue, however, “ she added, making sure to communicate this next part as clearly and effectively as possible. Hisoka perked up in surprise, and Illumi continued to sit perfectly still, as still as a statue. “Your blood sugar. Your blood sugar was extremely elevated, and we were concerned about a diagnosis of prediabetes or diabetes.”

“Diabetes?”

“We expect you to make a fast recovery… surprisingly fast in fact, but we would still like you to follow up with a primary care doctor about your blood sugar. We’ll draw a lab test to check how your sugars were for the past 3 months, called a Hemoglobin A1c test, and then we’ll have your primary care doctor follow up the results and help you with strategies to have better control.”

Illumi turned to Hisoka, who he could tell that whatever the medical team was telling him was going in one ear and out the other, and he was now only thinking about either his next fight or Bungee Gum based on the elated smile on his face.

Bungee Gum.

Bungee Gum was the fucking problem.

As the doctor and the nurse finally exited out of the room and Hisoka went back to telling Illumi battle stories, Illumi started to clear his schedule in his head, to figure out when he could best drag Hisoka to his follow-up appointments, which he would have to make for him. Someone had to be the adult in this relationship.

---

Hisoka’s new primary care doctor, another similarly young woman, but less easily intimidated as the tired one from the hospital sat at a computer, pulling up his chart to review his lab results from his hospitalization.

Illumi and Hisoka noticed how she visibly paled as she scrolled, then turned to Hisoka and gave him a reassuring smile, that looked to reassure her more than them.

“What is it? Am I dead?” Hisoka asked. Illumi gave him a look to quiet down.

“Well, you’re diabetic, all right... Your A1c is 14%.”

“Is that bad?”

She swiveled in her chair to face him, hands in her lap.

“Well, diabetes is diagnosed at an A1c of 7%. So... unfortunately, yes.”

Hisoka started counting on his fingers and Illumi forcefully put his hand down.

“Hisoka, listen to the doctor. Diabetes is serious. My great-grandaunt was diabetic.” Illumi said in an even, impassive voice.

“Oh, how old was she when she was diagnosed?” The doctor asked, attempting to build rapport with the patient and the patient’s loved ones.

Without skipping a beat, he replied, “206, exactly. She loved nothing more than to unwind with Mountain Dew after her assassination missions. She ended up on dialysis.”

The doctor seemed to be at a loss of words briefly, so she turned back to Hisoka, pulling out a pen and a notepad to focus on rather than lose her cool.

“So, uh… let’s start by talking a little about what you usually eat,” she began. “What do you eat in a typical day?”

“Hm... “ Hisoka didn’t usually keep track of what he ate, so it took him some time to come up with an account. “Ah! Okay, so in the morning, I usually skip breakfast, but sometimes I’ll have some Bungee Gum.”

Odd choice, the physician thought, but she nodded and wrote that down, allowing the floor to Hisoka to speak.

“For lunch, I try not to eat too much, but I also have a couple pieces or ten of Bungee Gum.”

Hm…

“Oh and for dinner, I have a bowl of gummy candy if I’m feeling particularly peckish and also Bungee Gum.”

She looked up from her pad and paper to see Hisoka looking blissfully unaware that he had just revealed that he subsists solely on sweets. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to pull at her hair repeatedly. This would be a ton of education, and she still wasn’t exactly sure what exactly Bungee Gum was.

---

Illumi parked his custom Ferrari minivan, purchased entirely for this shopping trip, outside the Costco Wholesale, and gave Hisoka, a long, hard look.

“Do you have the list?” Illumi asked, hand outstretched as Hisoka handed over a partially crumpled sheet of paper, outlining the basics of a balanced, carbohydrate-controlled diet for people with diabetes.

Hisoka looked outside to the large building, then looked back at Illumi. “Isn’t this for families? I thought we were shopping for me only, and sometimes you when you come over.”

“I don’t know, the butlers told me that they come here to stock the kitchens. It seems from the website that this store provides high quality bulk goods for very competitive prices so this will be an appropriate next stop.”

This was just one out of countless stops today - Hisoka had spent the earlier part of the day searching frantically for sugar-free Bungee Gum in every supermarket in a 25-mile radius unsuccessfully, and demanding to see the manager every time, only to kill them when they told him they didn’t have his particular brand. Illumi warned him that there would be no such shenanigans any longer.

They stepped out of the car and walked right past the door greeter who was waiting eagerly for them to present their membership card only to recoil once they both turned to look at him in unison with intent to kill.

The first things Hisoka noticed as he walked in were the multiple little free sample kiosks at the aisles every so often and curiously wandered over to them.

“Make sure to avoid anything glazed or with a sauce,” Illumi called after him, poring through the list as he wandered over to the produce aisle. He didn’t understand the draw of free samples; if he wanted to try something, he would simply buy it.

Hisoka made his way to Illumi and Illumi’s overfilled grocery cart about a half-hour later after wandering the entire store, arms filled with small paper cups and tasting spoons. It was clear that he had sampled literally everything, possibly twice or thrice. Illumi let out a sigh and moved to the front of the store to check out.

Keeping Hisoka’s blood sugar low would be a daunting task, but he was determined that by the next visit to his PCP, he’d have some improvement in his A1c. Texture Surprise can only replace so many amputated limbs at once. He’d just have to buy every supermarket’s supply of Bungee Gum and possibly halt every single production chain devoted to it or something similar. A pain, but it was worth it. Hisoka was annoying as all hell, but still, he was worth it.

#hisoillu #hisoka #illumi #bungee gum #hunter x hunter #serious business #serious writing #crack fic?#remember to eat a balanced diet

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courtorderedcake · 4 years ago

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Majestically Too Far Beyond, CSSNS 2020

Emma Swan is a Witch who has made (And apparently makes) bad decisions. Helping a desperate Witch out of a weird situation doesn't seem like a bad decision, even against her, runes, a tarot reading and her friend's Snow druid intuition - until it is and the consequences are very real.

Killian is a Demon with a long history of persecution against him, and his denizens are not much better off. His Angelic brother is on a mission to rehab Demonic image to prevent violence on the streets of Hyperion Heights, as some sort of Holy mission deeply rooted in millenia of guilt. Witches and Warlocks use them for parts, Werewolves see them as a threat, Angels mostly still hold on to the ancient feud regardless of their treatise, Fae stay chaotic neutral, Vampires don't care for others affairs - it's a perilous world where hate crimes happen without consequence. After a disastrous meeting, he attempts to drown his frustration with a trip to the bottom of a bottle, but ends up falling in bed with a mysterious Witch in her tower home. Soon he's missing a hand, has only the vaguest idea of what happened from the mess of blood he's woken up to, and a mirror shows that some strange, different, Witch is pregnant with his child.

RATED M for Mature Themes. Written for @cssns 2020 Beta’d by The best team ever ( @jarienn972 @ultraluckycatnd @donteattheappleshook) and Art by @kmomof4

Read on Ao3 HERE. 1 | 2

Chapter 2 - House Evil Spirits to appease of,

Part of Emma was coming to terms with the new fact that she was pregnant, then just as rapidly she reverts back through the cycle of grief, sometimes not in order. The doctor had warned her this would happen when she announced that they would be keeping her for overnight observation as a safety precaution, dropping the news that her new pregnancy hormones would also make her feel even more upside down then she had ever imagined. It was one thing to be told, but feeling it was another thing entirely.

She had gone from laughing at the breakfast menu she was handed to crying over grilled cheese not being an option, to enraged at being brought bright blue jello with her 'breakfast sandwich' made of bologna and eggs. They could not have known the intense reaction the jiggling neon goo would have given her, her magic flaring and sputtering in turn as she launched it away from her. But then again, she doubted any of the staff had spent time in a No-Magic cell. Nausea bloomed as soon as rage subsided, the food on the plastic tray too similar to what had been served to her over those long years locked away.

Now irritation was playing through multiple emotions, a new nurse violently poking her with a needle, and running some sort of IV.

"You're giving me what -"

"A hormone treatment, and a magic suppressant."

"But I need my magic -"

"Would you prefer to shrivel up and die? You'll still have enough to do daily witch activities or whatever. This helps keep the extra at bay, and your baby healthy. It needs your magic."

"Oh. Great." She laughed, half crazed at the news and the nurse's treatment. "Just great."

"Mess with their kind, and well." She shrugged, eyeing Emma's body. "An Angel wouldn't do that to you. A Vampire couldn't, and the rest of 'em could, but you wouldn't have to suffer through all this nasty magic aftermath. You're just early enough for a termination though, thank Merlin."

"I didn't do this to myself on purpose . This was never supposed to happen, at least not like this…"

"Sure." The nurse rolled her eyes as she drew out the word, clearly being condescending. "It's never the Witch’s fault; I hear it every time I'm fixing them for blowing themselves in half for not reading a spell right. You play with dark magic, there's a cost."

Emma scowled, hot tears starting and streaming down her cheeks. Her anger and ferocity that was there just moments before had evaporated without warning into a deep resignation.

"Can my brother come to see me yet?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"After they question you, sure. He can come pick you up - You're done here." The nurse pulled off the empty bag from the IV stand, throwing it in the trash.

The doctor entered, waving a hello. Emma did not notice her, too busy staring at her bump. She joined the nurse as a machine beeped, helping to take out her IV and the pads on her belly. When that was done, Emma sat up, wobbling from her strange new center of gravity.

The doctor smiled at her kindly. "We'll have your test results in a few days to a week's time. You'll feel strange and sluggish the first few weeks as your body catches up to the rapid growth, your hormones, the magic, so on and so forth. From there, you may actually start to grow as normal until you'll need the next dose of suppression. We'll schedule that out for 4 months from now, checking in monthly, but if you grow suddenly, shrink suddenly, your extremities swell, or you begin to exhibit flu like symptoms, come in immediately. If anything seems off, just give us a call. We have a twenty-four seven nurse line should you have any other questions. Good luck!"

The doctor left without much more than a precursory glance back.

Snapping her gloves, the nurse glared over her glasses at Emma. "Leave when you are ready. We got you a different outfit; it's amongst your personals there."

The nurse left in a hurry, leaving Emma to dress herself in a large pair of green hospital scrubs, her new figure completely foreign as she rubbed her hands across the smooth skin. Her once flat stomach was distended, a slight curve that pushed out stretched skin. Her clothes in the plastic bag they had given her were dirty and looked damp. The clothing she was given would have been a small comfort if the stiff fabric didn't feel so much like her old prison uniform.

"Fuck," Emma choked out, gripping the chair for support. She felt dizzy, absolutely nauseated at the idea of a baby. Her baby. She was pregnant. Something in her felt warmth at the idea, a strange, creeping feeling of rightness mixed with calm. The rest of her wanted to claw at her skin, urging her to wake up from this horrible dream.

Every time she closed her eyes, she fervently wished this wrongness was a hallucination. But it wasn't; she was still swaying on her feet every time she opened her eyes again. This wasn't some sort of nightmare, there was a baby, some creature's inhuman child inside her. "Fuck. Fuck!"

Tears began to prick behind her eyes, her face heating as she sat down on the hospital bed with her head cradled in her hands.

( You can't cry over this. This happened because of your shady dealings.

You got a firstborn child alright. Yours. )

Swallowing hard, Emma tried to banish the thoughts bombarding her.

( A baby. A baby you can love and hold, who you will never abandon. Someone you can raise the way you weren't, a second chance. Put your armor back on - for you and your child. )

Emma bit her lip hard, swiping angrily at her tears. Bottling up the emotions, she took a breath, grabbed her purse, and walked down the hallway. To her great surprise, Elsa was waiting.

"Emma, oh my stars. This is - I have no words. I'm so sorry," Elsa whispered. Emma gave a half hearted shrug, her voice still trembling slightly.

"Yeah. Well. Can I go home yet? That's why you're here right?" Emma hated the anxious, pleading edge of her tone.

"No, not yet. You have to be interviewed by the inspector detective here and then you are free to go." Elsa approached and hugged Emma softly. "I got you a nice one though, he's one of my favorites. Jones. He's an Angel - literally and figuratively. He's saved me on so many cases, I can't help but sing his praise."

"Oh Elsa. Thank you." Emma hugged her friend tightly, both of them trembling. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Elsa scoffed. "I don't know what anyone would do. Joking aside, we are all going to be here for you, no matter what happens. It's not going to be like last time." Elsa pushed back a strand of Emma's hair, looking straight into her eyes. "You won't go through this alone. We're going to fight for you, and figure this out. Luckily, our major project is postponed anyway. Until they find the Demon Prince, the council is on a hiatus."

"I just want to go home. I don't know if I can handle everyone right now." Emma mumbled. "It's bad enough David probably knows, which means Snow and everyone else -"

"Please don't push us away, Emma. We know it's a lot, but going into the unknown like this," Elsa took one of Emma's hands, squeezing it lightly. "Having a family, having faith and love - it's the only way to get through."

"Miss Frost," a low voice called from a room nearby. Elsa led Emma to a small office, smiling at the large Angel who stood on one side of a desk. He returned her smile, until Emma met his eyes. His frown was slow, not suiting his features, even when his blue eyes sharply laser focused on Emma's rotund body. She could see his muscles tense, his golden tinged wings giving the smallest of flutters. "Miss Swan."

"I'll leave you both to it, then." Elsa smiled, inspector Jones weakly returning it as she closed the door to them.

Emma sat in the only chair on her side of the desk, landing with an audible noise in surprise. Her body was heavier now. Of course sitting felt wrong. Jones grunted before sitting in his chair, his presence formidable even with his wings unopened. He began jotting down notes, not looking up at her for a long, stretched pause of silence. Emma fidgeted uncomfortably, one foot bouncing on the floor.

"Stop that at once," Liam growled, his eyes narrowed.

Emma stopped, hissing out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I just -"

"How did this happen?" Liam interrupted, gesturing at her with clear disgust. "Dr. Mullins indicates it was against your will? You haven't been sexually active to induce conception? Explain."

"Well, I um -"

"And I must remind you Miss Swan," Liam grimaced, marking something on his paper. "Lying to me is a crime itself. Perjury."

"Yes, I uh - I know." Emma nodded with a gulp. She took a breath, centering herself, and began to tell him the entire story of what had taken place with Gothel. He listened in absolute silence, writing the entire time as his frown only deepened. When she had finished, he continued writing in the oppressive silence, until finally flicking his eyes up to glare at her again.

"Is that all, Miss Swan?"

"Yes, then I, um, got the cramps -"

"Spare me the sordid details of the consequences your illegal activity most likely caused," Liam drawled, sarcastically. He leveled his angry, burning gaze at her, and she felt like an animal being cornered by much larger prey. "Now, I have some questions for you. Answer to the best of your ability, but remember -"

"Do not lie, yeah I remember," Emma said softly.

"Who says you Witches can't be taught," Liam sneered, his voice mocking. Emma felt irritation bubble up in her gut, her surprise that Elsa liked this asshole rising. If he was a good inspector, Emma never wanted to meet a bad one. "Now. What exactly did this Gothel ask of you in exchange for her firstborn?"

"Youthful beauty and a long life, I think," Emma stated, thinking hard. "She wanted to be young forever. I told her that it wouldn't be instant or eternal, that she would have to wait. Now I know why it didn't bother her."

"Did she mention any other rituals, Miss Swan?" Liam asked.

"No, but she did say that she was in a time crunch." Emma shrugged slightly. "I don't know if that means anything."

Liam looked at her with more vehemence, still writing furiously. "Did you feel any effects at that time?"

"No, I was surprised I didn't with the amount of magic that detonated. I checked myself twice to make sure, once with a warding bind even." The strangeness of the situation and her clear confusion due to it made her voice sound foreign to Emma's own ears. Did he know how much she didn't want this? "Nothing. Then boom, today I - today this. She showed her true colors at the end, did an evil laugh and everything."

Liam hummed disapprovingly, looking over his notes. Flicking his eyes back to hers, he glared with contempt. "Let me make sure I have this all correct. So, you and this other Witch do a forbidden and illegal ritual -"

"I had no idea it was going to be this illegal, I swear!" Emma began to feel panic, her heart racing. "I thought I was helping -"

"Sure, sure, even though you already have a record -"

"That was - That was different, I was set up and I -"

"It seems like you are awfully good at being set up, Miss Swan. So what did you get out of this?" The inspector looked at her in disgust, folding his arms against his chest. "A Demon child to experiment on? Heightened powers?"

"No! No, I had no idea she would - I didn't know - I thought later on that she'd give me her unwanted child. I didn't want another kid to be unwanted. I didn't know the parentage - "

The inspector interrupted with a loud scoff, leaning forward and leering at her. "Likely bloody story."

"Detective Inspector Jones, I swear to you, I swear it - I had no idea what… I had no idea this would happen. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to get pregnant, I still don't know what to do."

"If it is a Demonic child, even only a half-breed, the best thing to do is give them up." Something painful twisted in her gut, a deep feeling of dread and wrongness.

"I can't, I want to think about it and wait to look at options -"

"You can . You should . It will get easier the longer you are separated from the leeching thing." Liam's sneer turned into a look of pure disgust. "Don't wait, and get it out of you before it completely ensnares you in its unholy thrall."

"It's a child, sir, and my choice. I'm not making any promises -"

"No Demon has ever been innocent, not even a baby. They are inherently selfish, cruel, and angry. Your mixed breed baby will be the same." Liam looked down at his feet, his fingers interlaced as he rested his elbows on his knees. His voice had lost the cruel edge, and Emma felt her superpower activate. He didn't believe what he was saying, and as she watched him, she noticed how tired he looked.

"Inspector, are... Are you alright?"

"Miss Swan," Liam chuckled darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose before glancing up to look at her. "If I was in your position, I would worry about myself, especially if jail time was on the table."

Emma felt as if he'd slapped her, air rushing from her lungs as her heart beat rapidly.

"Jail time?" She asked in disbelief, "What about Gothel? Why are you demonizing me -"

"That is government business, Miss Swan." Liam stood stiffly, rummaging in his pocket. He fished out a card, carefully sliding it on the table towards her. "If you remember anything, contact us. Otherwise, we will be in touch. I'll have the nurse give you the proper paperwork and instructional pamphlets."

He turned, pushed the curtain aside, and Emma heard a soft whoosh of air indicating his exit. Looking down at her body under the scrubs, she cursed Eloise with every fiber of her being.

ﾟ・. ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

The first few nights were a string of blurry, anger, and grief strewn rampages. Elsa has taken her home, Emma unwilling to let David even see her until she had some space to take care of herself. She had sent a text, and after a lot of back and forth arguing surrounding his lengthy replies, David had conceded.

(She just couldn't right now.

Not right now. Not yet.)

A Celestial, or something similar. Most likely Demon, he had said.

Gothel had not only gotten her pregnant, but with some Demon child that could be claimed by its monstrous father for who knew what awful reason. Emma shuddered at the thought, hands protectively resting on her small swell of stomach. Pulling them away as they trembled, she cursed her body and the invader that was making her feel so attached to it. Demons didn't exactly get along with any of the other demographics, but Witches and Demons had the most volatile relations amongst any of them. Her own child might grow to hate her, all because of how much Witches persecuted Demon kind.

She could still… No. She would not terminate the baby this far along. Every part of her vibrated with the wrongness of the very idea, sending her retching into the kitchen sink. She gripped both sides of the basin, crying hot, angry tears as she came to terms with the parasite - the baby, the small baby, the life - occupying her body. As much as she tried to hate it, the only hate she could muster fell on herself and Eloise.

Part of her felt crazed, crying in her bathtub, nauseated and afraid of every implication and outcome. Laying her head back on the tile, she wondered about what she was going to do. Rubbing her new bump slowly, Emma traced the curve. Sixteen months. A doubly long second trimester, and extended third, all while it changed with her body. Mixed children generally presented like their non-Demonic parent, and the pregnancy bond would be fierce regardless of species. Although it was doubtful at this point it was even in effect despite her behavior and thoughts, Emma smiled at the thought that she already felt attached to her baby. Her own family.

Her brother was going to go insane, and her sister-in-law… Snow was always supportive and full of a positive outlook. Emma had teased her that it was an Elf thing, but her pointed ears would twitch as she blushed, and she'd mumble something about her plants helping. Smoking her pungent blends of cannabis could make anyone positive, and Emma was suddenly envious.

Regina and the coven would be on the defensive, taking over everything in Emma's life without quarter. That would be another comfort, their careful planning and patience having gotten her this far through her difficult life.

In the end, the coven, Ruby, and Snow were over shortly after her emergency summons, flying through her doorway. Ruby was a Werewolf Emma had befriended through Snow. While Regina disliked her, Emma didn't think she was any different than most humans other than her keen sense of smell and bluntness. It was these traits that immediately made it clear what was wrong. It would seem not everyone in their circles knew yet. That would take a few more days.

“Emma,” Ruby whispered, horrified, her nose wrinkling as tears filled her eyes. “What did… Who did this to you?”

"They think it is a Demon, but it's almost definitely Celestial, or something with a dynamic gestational period due to magic." Just behind Ruby, the rest of the coven began appearing, all staring on her porch as Emma ushered them in. "Until I find out the father, I don't know, although most likely it's Demonic."

Regina's head snapped up. “A Demon? Emma, what do you mean dynamic -”

The women went quiet when Emma lifted her shirt to show them her bump, explaining everything.

Emma laid her head in Snow’s lap after, feeling numb. Snow stroked her hair gently, looking at the others. Their coven was small, mostly women, but David and two other men were honorary members by means of dating or marriage. Anna picked at her braid, eyes wide, while Belle's mouth was still open from her earlier gasp. Mulan, Regina, and Merida were all business.

“I'll hunt the Witch and her Demon pet down myself, and bring him back here. We can take turns peeling away his skin -”

“Mulan,” Merida hissed, her curls bouncing when she nodded her head at Emma, who's eyes were welling with tears once again.

“I thought… I thought I was doing something good ,” Emma burst into tears, sobbing into Snow, and Belle excused herself to fetch the whistling kettle from the stove. Pouring everyone tea, they tried to figure out what to do.

“Well, you certainly can't go hunting skips,” Regina scoffed. “And this house, I mean, I get that you fixed it up but it's a dump -”

“Oh! David would be happy to have you back on the farm with us!” Snow lit up, but the thought of being around their saccharine relationship and the smell of incense, patchouli, and skunky smelling herb had her running for the toilet. The others talked and sipped tea, planning out things as Emma curled up on her bath mat. Maybe it was better to terminate, if the leap in growth hadn't made it too late. Would it be better to give it up? Her mind filled with swirling ideas, and Emma let herself get lost in her sadness.

Ruby snuck in a moment later, sitting next to Emma quietly.

“So,” she whispered quietly, and Emma cracked open an eye to look at her friend's face.

“So,” Emma rasped back, her throat raw.

“Apparently, you're going to go live with Regina in the Guest ‘Wing’, yes, not room, ‘Wing’, and work at one of Belle’s bookstores. I tried to chime in with what your input might sound like. They looked at me as if I'd eaten Anna's familiar. Not like Elsa would let me snack on knock-off Rudolph anyway. Miss Ice Queen has her fancy new council to lord over, so who knows. We could have some reindeer snacks.”

Emma snorted, a smile breaking across her face.

“Look,” Ruby started, running a hand through her hair to push back her straight brunette style. ”I know how important it was for you to be independent, Emma. I know you really cared about Neal, too. I just… There's something… There's something really off with this situation, and it's not just my nose saying that you smell weird, like dark magic weird, or my gut saying a Witch that makes contracts with Demons for a baby, knocks you up, then just up and vanishes is bad news. I want you to be safe. I called Graham on your telephone, and there's an opening at his precinct I think you might like. It’s mostly paperwork -”

“Rubes!” Emma laughed despite herself. “That's awesome, thank you-”

“Just listen. I want to meet this… Demon. I still have this feeling like something is really off, and you're neck deep in danger. Besides, you know, the Demon part of the situation. Are you sure that you can't remember, er… Well. You know?”

“No, it was literally one minute I was fine, then the next the worst period cramps of my life while I inflated. I was sort of Instant Knocked Up, just add magic or whatever.” Emma rubbed her temples, and Ruby sighed.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Granny says that's most likely how I was conceived too.” Ruby flashed her a smile, and Emma laughed, hugging her friend tightly.

“I don't know what I would do without you, Rubes.”

“Look, I'm pretty sure Graham isn't into a menage et trois with a preggo, but I'll broach the subject.”

“You're ridiculous,” Emma laughed.

“You wouldn't have it any other way.”

ﾟ・. ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

Months passed slowly as Emma waited for the other shoe to drop. Work at the station was easy, filing reports and making coffee not troublesome at all. Liam apparently worked somewhere in the massive complex, but Emma made no moves to seek him out or head to the detective offices.

Her house was almost completely redone and brand new; the floors, walls, ceilings, and everything in between redone with the utmost care.

("I refuse to let you live like this and represent our coven," Regina ran a finger along the mantelpiece, grimacing when it came up dirty. "Are you sure that you have to live here?"

"What Regina means," Elsa shot her a glare as Regina shrugged, rubbing her fingers together, "Is that any of us would love to have you. Don't feel obligated to stay -"

"But don't feel like you have to leave either. David and I would love to help you fix up the place, maybe have you make a few rooms?" Snow encouraged. David nodded, his arms crossed across his chest.

Elsa clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh yes, you could make an apothecary room like the one you talked about, and a potion brewing room, a nice place to grow plants, a library -"

"And we'd all pitch in, if you wanted to make a nursery?" Mary Margaret mumbled, almost shyly. "I wanted to throw a baby shower for you since we found out, but I didn't want to overwhelm you like I feel like I always do -"

"Too late," Emma gritted under her breath, her friends already planning the event for her.)

Emma actually had eased into the idea; at first it seemed absurd that they were planning for this when the whole situation was so strange. The father was still unaccounted for, even as the test results made it clear that the baby was of Demonic parentage. Sometimes Emma thought she could feel something, a little tug, the eerie feeling of being watched, or an emotion that wasn't hers flitting through her mind, but she dismissed them easily. More often, she was fascinated by the lack of information on the bond her and this child were supposed to have.

Pouring over books, it was as if someone had removed or rewritten any passages about Demonic parenting, specifically with a non Demon parent. She had found minor information on the bond in a few books. It was supposed to be fierce, the instinct making women hysterical and unreasonable. It only got more intense when the father was around, cases of actions deemed feral surrounding the mixed couples she had managed to find. All of them had ended in tragedy, and Emma eventually found herself unable to stomach reading about them.

Or anything really, food was enemy number one on baby's list, unless it was deep fried, covered in sugar, or drenched in sweetness. Without shame, Emma had managed to eat and keep down an entire jar of marmalade with crackers.

When Snow, Elsa, and Ruby's grandmother had brought up the food options they would make if Emma would let them throw her a shower, she had caved.

( "I will make you a bear claw cake, mini grilled cheese, and onion rings, amongst other things," Granny grinned. "And I will crochet you the most darling blanket for your little girl."

Emma tried not to drool, or give in. "That's nice, but I don't think I want that many people here, you know? That detective is watching my every move, I feel like a whale, I never know which food will agree with me -"

"And I will make sure I have a never-ending hot chocolate drip for you." Granny's eyes twinkled, full of mischief. "With toppings."

"Including cinnamon?" Emma asked, unable to disguise the longing in her voice. Granny nodded firmly. "How did you know? Wait - did you say a girl -"

"I just know," she shrugged. "Call it a wolf's intuition." )

It was supposed to be small, just a few people and family, but somehow it had turned into a full on social event. Emma was grateful that she had added a few rooms in the days before, the space sorely needed regardless of how drained she felt. Even still, she loved the house. It actually felt like hers, the exposed beams and vintage fixtures mixed with tapestries, framed art, and treasured photos. Her herbs dried above a large sink, food was spread along a long bar and buffet sideboard, and people milled around her living room that she had adjoined to two more exact copies through her doors.

No need to be original there.

( Her private door stayed tucked away in the upstairs hallway, and it was unable to be unlocked by anyone but her.

That was more important than a few extra rooms she could collapse after these people were gone. )

Emma was a good sport for the first couple of hours, playing games, being paraded around to people who apparently were important in the city, and sipping hot cocoa. Elsa, Regina, Mulan, and Snow were putting emphasis on her innocence, and although it was a spectacle, Emma hoped it would work.

Two very terrible things ruined her mood.

At some point, Elsa fell away from Emma's side, returning as cake was being cut. Her face was pinched, irritability written across it as she glared down at the slice she's given.

"You okay?" Emma whispered, and Elsa blinked, looking up in surprise.

"Oh, yeah. I just - I thought my date might show up, but he's working." Elsa gritted out the last word, anger seeping into it. "He's on this case, and it's important to him because it's family related, but I want him to understand that I have family too, and I could help if he just -" Throwing up her hands, Elsa groaned in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know anything about -"

"Emma," David pulled her up by her arm, looking around as if checking for something. "Kitchen. Now."

There's no time to protest, his grip strong and firm, dragging her into the kitchen.

"David, what the fu -"

"That detective was here, asking about you," Regina hissed, pointing out towards where guests milled. "We made sure he left, but he was asking questions."

"Questions?" Emma repeated, fear gripping her. Elsa walked in, listening to the conversation beside her.

"Like, if you had a history of criminality, if you knew and associated with undesirable magic users, if you knew who the father was or were protecting who did this to you," David said. The stillness around them seemed to tense just as they were.

"If he questions you, you make sure to tell him that you know nothing," Elsa whispered, trying to hold her hand. "Make sure you proclaim your innocence, and he'll believe you, he has to -"

"You think I haven't tried?" Emma ripped her hand away, looking at all of her friends with annoyance. "I agreed to this not knowing it was going to serve as some bullshit trial ball, where I'd be judged like this. I've searched everywhere for that woman, I have nothing to hide. She's disappeared, and not like a new identity in Guam disappeared, no. Like, off every plane of existence without a trace. It wouldn't matter if I did find her, because this is my kid. The bonds of the spell make her of my blood more and more every day. I can't just go back to the way things were - "

"What about the father?" Regina asked.

"I don't know. I know nothing about him or why he hasn't come. As far as I know, he might not. I don't know how he couldn't feel these binds. I know I feel something, but it could be because I'm practically mooing, I'm so huge, and I have these crazy urges. The hormones alone here are making me feel insane, even before you started in on me. Even before that asshole showed up because we have the entire damn city here!"

"I told you this was a bad idea, Regina," Snow mumbled. Regina glared in return.

"We - I just want you to know that no one will judge you for not wanting this, or for giving up the baby -" David said weakly.

"Shut up David," Emma growled out. Her hands rested against her stomach and she felt like she was going to fall over. "Right now, shut up and do not go down that road."

"Emma, it's making you feel attached," Regina said gently. "And if I'm agreeing with him, you know I - "

"I mean it, not another word. I'm keeping my baby, that's it. End all, be all. Say another word and I will curse your tomatoes," She pointed at David, then rounded on Regina. "And hex your wardrobe with bleach stains that don't come out. Try me."

"Fine!" Regina threw up her hands while David grunted.

The kitchen went silent, the tension palpable.

"We got you a really nice layette," Snow offered, trying to clear the awkwardness while smiling. "Come open gifts, and look at all this cuteness. "

Emma begrudgingly moved forward, her eyes widening at the mountain of gifts in front of her.

"Don't worry," Anna whispered as she pulled Emma down to sit. "I'm writing your thank you cards for you."

The crowd thinned after gifts, the night trickling on as the house emptied. If Emma had felt drained before, now she felt completely devoid of energy. The small crowd that's left hadn't bothered her, so when Snow and Regina asked her to do another walk about with them, it seemed safe enough.

She saw him out of the corner of her eye, his head nodding, laughing at something in his self absorbed sly little chuckle that makes her want to break his nose. She must have tensed because Snow was beside her and sucking in breath harshly through her teeth, the coven turning as if they could all feel the disturbance.

( Maybe they can, maybe the unbridled audacity of this man being here with another woman as he laughs with a martini glass in his hand is enough to share one collective experience of hatred. His eyes meet hers and he gives her a smirk that screams pity and humor at her expense as he lifts his glass toward her, mouthing congrats )

A figure cut in front of her, and her rage that feels like a sickening punch in the gut is coupled by this smack in the face - Neal's father grinned at her, his cane on the ground while both hands rest on its handle.

"My my my, Miss Swan," Gold smirked the same smirk that she wants to rip off his face. "When we heard, we were so surprised to not receive an invitation to this… quaint event of yours. Truly poor manners when our covens are no longer supposed to be at odds."

Regina and Elsa were there in front of her in a flash, Snow pulling her away, words being exchanged in hissed tones. Emma could barely hear over her heartbeat, over the sound of her stomach screaming at her to vomit.

"You can protect her all you want, but we know what she did. We know what it will be," Gold's voice slithered over her skin even in the bathroom. "You can't redeem her, and she will be the reason for all of your downfall. Enjoy your council while it lasts."

David shooed everyone out when Emma hastily retreated, the entirety of her patchwork family pushing inside to comfort her.

ﾟ・. ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

After the disaster of her shower, Emma began to feel the strange feeling of being watched even more. It became especially noticeable at night when she rocked in the nursery, sorting out piles of gifts. It felt like a presence sat beside her or hovered over her shoulder, and it began to follow her into her dreams.

They didn’t last after she woke, glimpses of a mirror, of the sound of pounding, a muffled voice that she can't make out.

The tip of the weird iceberg happened when Emma had gotten out of the shower, the steam in the room rising to fog the mirror. Dressing in pj's and heading back in to blow dry her hair, she had been dancing along to some new pop song by the Wolves of London, when her eyes caught the words.

On the fog of the mirror, her name had appeared backwards, joined shortly by the word 'Help' in a curling script that she blinked at in confusion before they disappeared.

( A baby, a Witch, and a Ghost. Just what she needs in the never ending chaos that has become her life )

Luckily, the Coven can save her ass again.

Regina glared at Emma, her judging silence lay heavily over the room. She crossed her arms, eyebrows pinching into further scorn, before asking again.

"You want me to do what?"

"Look, I know it's not your favorite thing to do, but you can and I don't have the gift or a guide like you do -"

"That doesn't make it any easier!" Regina threw up her hands, then gestured to her pantsuit clad form. "It's my body, and my mother is just -"

"I am begging you, Reg. Begging. You." Emma moaned, irritated. "The father is a complete mystery, there's a ghost in my house that I think has to do with him, and I'm scared it could be someone like…" Trailing off, she chewed her lip.

Liam's increasing push for her to choose adoption had thrown her off her game these last few weeks, his phone calls almost non stop. In a way, he was right. She wasn't the only parent, and she certainly wasn't ready to be a mom. She was no one, absolutely nothing. It wasn't as if she could raise a baby.

(Even if she wanted to, and the idea of her baby, her family enveloped in the family she chose and created, it made her feel nothing but happiness)

Regina rolled her eyes with a huff. "Fine. Fine!" she snapped, slamming her hands on the table. "I do this for you, and you owe me. I expect you to be at my whim for this."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And I'm not doing it for long." She shuddered. "Every time I check out and she checks in, I feel so just -" She shuddered again, making a gagging noise.

(Regina had done it before for David and her, to say goodbye to Ruth. It had hurt, hurt so badly, but not as much as Cora cutting the reunion short to tell her daughter to do more cardio.)

"I promise, we find his grandma or cousin or somebody, maybe whoever wrote that on my mirror, get the lead, and we're done." Emma nodded.

With another sigh, Regina laid her hands over the table, palms up, and Emma laid her own over them. A lavender spark shot from their joined hands to the air above them, Regina's head falling back while purple smoke began to pour around the table, permeating the air. Regina shook slightly, before violently snapping her head forward and blinking.

"Emma Swan, to what do I owe the pleasure of being ripped from my study?" A higher, nasal, woman's voice spoke out from Regina's mouth. "My daughter feels chubbier, and her skin is just -" Regina touched her face, making clucks with her tongue. "Oh, she is a mess! Did she break it off with that awful Warlock? Ugh, is she stress eating? I try not to pry, but I know she ate at least one slice of chocolate cake when she was out this last week -"

"Cora," Emma gritted out, closing her eyes in frustration. "Cora, Regina is fine. If she wants to discuss her love life with you, she'll call you up on the Ouija. I need your help to find someone, and I don't know the someone."

"Well, aren't you in a pickle."

"Please Cora, it's not just for me!"

"Oh, you're not interested in Regina are you? Because you are much too low a class for her breeding -"

"Oh Merlin, no, no!"

"What is it then?" Cora sighed in a bored drawl. "I've told you I can't find your family if they don't want anything to do with you, I -"

"No." Emma let her chest fall, speaking quietly. "No it's not that. I remember from last time and I have a family now." Emma took a deep breath, pushing back against the hurt in her chest. "I need to know… I need to know who the father is, and I'm having trouble. I need you to see if you can reach a relative, or friend, or someone who knows why his offspring is inside me, as well as what it is. I got a visit from a ghost, so here we are."

"Oooooh!" Cora squealed. "An enceinte pregnancy Miss Swan? An illegitimate baby? A haunting? How very risqué and daring on your salary!"

"Cora!"

"Fine, I'll check. I'll want the details of this though, so don't spare any of the juicy bits." Cora winked with Regina's face, before the woman's body went slack. After a minute, her head lifted back up, blinking slightly. "Well, Emma, what a doozy this is. This woman will not stop talking, and it's absolutely ridiculous how impossible she's being, even if she is ancient looking. Yes, I said ancient looking - well don't get mad at me, I tell it how it is - oh, I don't care who your son is, he can't be that grand if he's knocked up this wreck. Sorry Emma dear, I love you, but I mean," Cora shrugged, unabashedly.

"Cora, ask her what her name is!" Emma hissed.

"What's your name then? Oh, that's interesting. Not as good as Cora, or Regina -"

"Cora!"

"It's Milah. And she's not his mum, she's - oh he's an ex lover of yours? Juicy juicy! Sounds like Emma dear might be getting leftovers then? Oh don't be like that -"

"I need a name Cora, this is so -"

"I'm trying Emma dear, the woman won't shut up about her sweetheart. No - Really? The scandal, but - well that is so weird! Milah says that he's been hidden somewhere and no one is haunting you, but… Ugh! She's speaking so rapidly - yes, I get it, but if he wants the kid he would have come to get it, or - I am listening to you, you're not listening to me! A mirror? You should look at one, why do I have to tell her about a mirror? I mean Emma's at most average, and look at her figure now. A child will do that to you." Cora sighed, and Emma stiffened. Cora seemed to nod for a moment, before Regina's face soured further.

"Don't get smart with me, you may be an old soul but you died far younger than I did!" Cora growled, her eyes slitting at some unseen target. She turned with her head cocked, looking at Emma with pity. "I'm sorry Emma, sweet little duckling, but this woman is a nightmare. She keeps screaming at me about how this Killian fellow is the father, but it's impossible for her to see him for whatever reason. Something about a mirror? She's also absolutely ancient, I haven't seen clothing like that outside of - Pre-Babylon? Is that the robe designer or…? Don't look at me like that miss bed sheet toga, I - Emma, this woman, I swear! It's just incessant chattering, really - "

"His name is Killian? Cora, wait, don't you -"

"I understand that you were crazy in love with him, trust me, you seem crazy Milah dear. Yes, Killian is his name. A Demon of lust for vengeance. Wow, Emma, what a winner!" Cora snickered, and Emma resisted the urge to shriek. "Well, I don't care if the beast is misunderstood, he's a Demon. How touching, now please - oh come now, Gothel in the tower with the mirror? Red spire, Troll falls? What is this, Clue? Do I look like a detective?" Regina's eyes rolled, Emma desperately trying to remember the snippets that might make sense. Gothel, tower, mirror, red spire, troll falls. Killian.

Cora grew louder, her voice rising in pitch.

"Oh, how dare you! I'll have you know your cheap robes aren't exactly chic either; you need a wardrobe update, badly! You look like a ten cent frat party attendee!" Cora spat, and Regina's face pinched tight. "Excuse me? More important things, WELL , I never - Oh you rude little tart, I've had enough!"

"Please Cora, no, I -" Emma attempted, but Cora flipped Regina's hair back, sniffing with haughty indignation.

"It'll be alright Emma, duckling. It seems that your little orphan persona is perfect to parent this little babe! Shut up! No, I'm done with you, you crazy broad. Go back to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and buy some new linens!" Cora hissed, her mouth curled in an ugly snarl. "Anyways, Emma, just accept that you can't ruin a child to be like you if you're giving them a home, even if their father is some failed Demon. Or something inspirational, I don't know." She shrugged, Regina's shoulders going up in a blasé dismissal. Her eyes snapped to look behind Emma, her face contorted in rage.

"Cora. I am begging you - " Emma tried again, but Cora's focus was elsewhere, on someone unheard and unseen.

"Shut it, shut up thread count Cleopatra!" Turning back to Emma, she smiled serenely. "Tell Regina to summon me later, I need to know how she is. And tell her no more sweets, especially if she ever wants to be a wife. Ta!"

Regina fell forwards, her body shuddering as the lights flickered, purple smoke dissipating into the air. She moaned lowly, cracking her shoulders and neck as she rolled backwards.

"Dammit!" Emma exclaimed, sitting up and violently stalking to the fridge. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

"Ugh, I can taste her perfume. Bring me a beer please," Regina groaned. Emma pulled a beer and a soda out of the fridge, giving the beer to Regina. "Emma, don't you ever say that I don't love you after that." Regina shuddered again, flicking her hand to open the beer and drinking down half of it in one go.

"I know you do. You just have… You're just abrasive with it. Like a big cat, or an alligator."

(Or a wood chipper wearing lipstick)

"Shut up, and tell me how it went. Was it worth it? Mother never is, but -"

"She, uh, well she got me some information to go on. So, that's something." Emma averted her gaze, licking her lips.

"She talked about my weight, didn't she," Regina sighed. When Emma said nothing Regina drank the rest of the beer and walked to the kitchen, depositing it in the trash. Pulling out a wine glass, she reached under her cabinet and produced a bottle of wine. Emma raised an eyebrow. "Don't even start on me."

"I wasn't going to," Emma whispered.

Laying her palms flat on the countertop and bowing her head, Regina looked up after a moment's pause.

"So, what now?" She asked.

Emma chewed on her lip, thinking hard. "I have his name, or at least I think I do. I think all that's left is to, well, summon him."

(Summon him, and say what? 'Hey, Mr. Demon, I'm having your kid and thought you might like to know', as if it would care, or want anything to do with her...)

Regina's eyebrows shot up. "Not alone, surely -"

"No. I would ask Snow, David, and maybe Mulan and Belle. I know Belle would be delighted, and she has the spellbooks."

"That actually sounds like a relatively good plan." Regina nodded, then took a sip of her wine.

"Don't sound so shocked, Regina." Emma grumbled.

"Miss Swan," Regina smirked, swirling the wine in her glass before taking another sip. "If you ever cease to stop shocking me with your antics, I'll assume I have gone to meet my mother and maker."

#Courtorderedcake #September #2020 #September 1st 2020 #cssns #CSSNS 2020 #captain swan au #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #cs ff au #CS FF #My writing #MTFB #1st

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macgyvertape · 4 years ago

Text

50 or so hours into Cyberpunk 2077

This should be roughly the correct amount of time, ive been leaving the game running as I get up to get food or do stretches. Quests are roughly in order I did them

non spoilers above cut:

i haven't found a single hat/helmet i like, and since you can't hide them I just am not wearing any. It matters that much.

I posted the other day about bugs, every few hours I play I find new bugs. some require me to go back and reload a save others I honestly can’t tell if it’s a bug or just really poor development

there are several perks that don’t quite do what the description says, like the Anamesis perk. Based on reddit and trying it out it seems to just not do anything.

sometimes in car chase segments the passenger will say “look out” as cars spawn in my path and hit me. Can’t tell if that was deliberate or a pop in issue

Yeah I’ve just totally given up on doing pacifist things unless required by a mission. Given up on doing stealth too unless a mission objective, except for sneaking around to set up a fight.

:readmore:

the delemain car quest is fun. From the shock of the one going "beep beep motherfucker" and doing a hit and run to start it off, to the GLADOS car i see a lot of people talking about. It was fun to explore the city when i might have missed places like the landfill apparently there is follow up on T-bug's death if you go back to the quick hack shop in Kabuki. It's not much but better than nothing I made the pass with Panam of "what if the room just had one bed". I know she won't do a wlw romance, which is fine since I wouldn’t have chosen her. I enjoy her as a character, don’t get me wrong, my V considers her as a friend, but it seems like theres always drama going on which would be tiring. I would have gone for a fling, i like her leotard-pants combo with all the straps

but also her questline was buggy as hell. Multiple cases of having to reload due to clipping into objects, including her in a driving section, or just insta-dying when collision physics with some rocks broke "your neural network can no longer function independantly of the chip" me slapping my desk: s y m b i o te!!! come on lets have some s y m b i o s i s

in the scene with hellman i really liked how Johnny moved around the room. It made him feel like he was really there. it was hard to follow the convo as I left the room, i would not have understood it without subtitles. But i guess Takemura fucking waterboarded hellman. :|

lol I hope the dialogue is different b/c i refuse to smoke for Johnny

i am level 18 and still can't beat the first opponents in the fist fighting quest. ffs

I looked up the romances options so I went to do the I fought the law quest as soon as i got it. ACAB, but like I literally just met River Ward 2 minutes ago, and I really like him. His earring and cyborg eye, his big fluffy coat. I'm definitely gonna sleep with him Ok i like how when River Ward is dealing with the tiger claws if you interject it leads to a fight. It goes better if you follow his instructions and let him deal with it. Seriously I enjoy that sometimes its good to not pick a dialogue choice.

during the red queen club part, there was no dialogue over the phone. So i reloaded a save and got myself spotted and attacked. Then River showed up to help me <3 and it was more enjoyable having him there. I honestly am not sure if him not going to the club level is bug or not.

then uuuuuugh the worst of irl police "cops are my family" from Detective Han. Again ACAB "FRATERNITY OF CITY COPS RESEMBLES A [Nomad] CLAN NOT AT ALL" ok a few minutes ago i was complaining about bugs, but the character modeling in this game is good (when they're there). You can see body posture, characters jiggle their legs when they are nervous. Like I though character A was just throwing a cigarette on the ground, but then character B flinches back; I realize Char A threw it at B as a fuck you

I'm honestly curious if "I fought the Law" quest will have any impact later on. My choices were that I thought there was more going on than Holt being the only person behind this (based on how complicated the main questline heist is, and keeping an eye on some of the in game news), and told him not to take it to internal affairs, and I loved his response of how he doesn't give a shit what we think, he's doing it anyway.

In the elevator to report in, Johnny said "this muck is deeper than you think, tell them nothing", so i just said that the case was complicated. anyway i love how much of a sarcastic asshole V is

I thought i was being nonlethal with the monk quest, but it seems i accidently killed someone. RIP, but thats kind of the problem with this game. Like when i do the non lethal cyberpychosis quests I equip my non lethal modded gun and hope for the est. I like how a go here kill things quest led to Charles the ripperdoc. He's getting all his parts from scav gang members so I felt obligated to take him out. I got a police bounty for it but w/e.

I merged the Delemain fragments with the whole. Guess he's the meta now. (Side note: some of my favorite rvb fanfic plots are Ai consiousness/memory merging with the humans, so I’m having fun with this game and look foward to introspective fanfic)

Honestly Jonny made some good points, the fragments didn't deserve to die; but also destroying the core and freeing the fragments, they couldn't really function alone.

I was able to rescue Saul fine with stealth. Using cameras and the synapse overload really made it easy. Can't use the sniper rifle reward b/c I don't have the stats for it, and while it has a silencer the fact that it's a ricochette weapon and not a shoot through walls weapons, makes it not as good imo; and theres a legendary one that is stats free for only 100k.

Lol made a pass again at Panam, and she immediately shut me down. I then did Mitch's quest and I love every time someone tells V they area good person.

I hacked the operation carpe noctem shard, and wow the corporations are using ai to make people have cyberpsychosis, or something like that. What a shocker /s, I've played Deus Ex HR before

lol driving through the unifinished interstate, past the fight from Panam's first quest I found a "batcave" with a very nice car, and a manifesto written by "muckman'. But here's my complaint about the loot, there is a legendary top, but it had 16 armor. My current top has 84 armor, like why would i switch?? then later i found a bunker with soviet spies in it. Wild

Doing River's second quest, love the timing of as soon as you ask, why are we breaking in, someone shows up to tell you he got kicked off the force. It's funny how Johnny comments how maybe River's into you, and V just doubts Johnny's words. Love how the first kid asks River if I'm his girlfriend. also wow like oof both the second parts of Judy and River's quest are SUPER fucked UP!! oof like i stopped doing first person mode on the braindances for those quests as soon as i could, just made me too uncomfortable seeing that in first person.

DRIVING IN THE GAME IS BAD! nowhere is it more apparent than the sinnerman quest, which took me 3 times to get the driving section done, as cars spawned out of nowhere to hit me. Then when you restart, there is a bunch of dialogue it doesn't let you fast forward through. The rest of the Sinnerman questline is interesting. My V took every option to tell the dude that he was messed up, and what he was doing was wrong. idk, I was surprised how much dialogue there was that let you buy into his whole "forgiveness thing" and how there wasn't any real dialogue to call him the fuck out, that in seeking forgiveness he continues to do harm both emotional to the mother of the man he killed, but also that he got the husband killed via cop. The later follow up quest, I told him that what he is doing is crazy, studio is just going to profit off this vid. Then I refused to join him prayer, and told him fuck no i wasn't going to hammer him to the cross, or even watch. Yes, the man is scared of dying, and the corporation is exploiting him, but he keeps creating burdens for others. I think the discussion on this quest will be interesting to read, it's definitely my own personal experience with religion coloring my view. Anyway back to a main quest, yeah i don't trust Placide, especially in that scene where he grabs my hand, then jacks in. I ran off to do most of the sidequests here and got some criticism from him. I do love how in the cinema the western movie switches to a mission brief as the netwatch agent talks. its a fun enviromental detail. I took the netwatch offer, i don't think he's being fully honest with me, but he didn't put a virus in my head. As I told Placide later, I didn't pick a side. I like how you can then talk with the agent, who is a fan of Western movies, b/c they show "a simpler time where all good guys carry badges" :eyeroll:, and then V recommends Unforgiven, which from the wiki summary goes against that theme.

Looks like the Voodoo boys all got killed by Netwatch, but I as revenge for them trying to set me up I'm fine with it. Honestly after speaking with ai!Alt I don’t believe their plan of trying to be on good relations with AI would work.

doing the johnny flashback 2, and wow Johnny really is an asshole. Like I had gotten so used to him in side missions I forgot how self centered and unlikable he was.You constantly get prompts to drink or do drugs, which I ignored. But i do love the goth/punk love Rogue and others have.

lol i called it, when Hellman said that the engram would seek to override the host, put V on the engram. I really like how as the relic malfunctions, you wind up in the chair with a cigarette, which you can either smoke and say you are turning into Johnny or throw away. My dialogue "your problem is the ends justify the means", which is true!!! He and Rogue detonated a nuke downtown, does anyone know that, and like ask Rogue about it????

(Funny you can ask Rouge about Johnny silverhand, over the phone, then the game bugs out and spawns her npc where you are. She doens't say much about the nuke, but she does say no one trusts you for jobs). The line of no one trusting you for jobs is pretty funny at level 46 street cred where im at “respected” status. really loving the family atmosphere at River's 3rd quest. Also his big strong arms, and the fact he is no longer a cop. I totally let the kids win, and wow the family dinner where they GRILL YOU over the relationship and try to set the two of you up, then the water tower scene!!!!! I don't love the first person sex cutscenes but they do have personality. I'm glad afterwards you got to tell River about the biochip and that you might die. Because he's so far removed from your personal plot. So I took that option to back out of a relationship.

I do love that you wake up with "river's tanktop" that says "fuck the police" It actually has extremely good armor stats, so thats what I'll wear now.

panam 3rd quest, when shes like why did you help me, I'm like "because it's important to you". Basically the closest you can get to "when a friend asks for help you help them", which as an ex-nomad backstory I really choose the nomad options when ever i can Paralezes quest part 2! I love the piano song but I always think of it as ocean's 11 music. It's also fun to see the computer and see Judy recommended you for the first quest. The emails talk about "forgetting" to hire a staffer, on the balocony a strange antennia was scannable, the color of the roses was remembered wrong... lol guess i was right with those giant wall screens. Its fun environmental details that spell things out before you can notice, and it ties into some other quests where people's behavior is being altered. Actually, this quest "Dream On" I love it! For a while I've been like "wheres the illuminati conspiracy! Here it IS! I chose to follow Elisabeth's wishes and not tell her husband he was being brainwashed. In best case they program him to forget again, in worst case he ends up dead. The gaslighting Elisabeth described is CHILLING, her husband describes a vacation she can't remember and she doesn't know whose memories have been messed with. On your way to the plaza you get a call from someone/something that says the know exactly WHAT you are, any you black out!!! It's such a great feeling of helplessness that you're just one person in a world so big that you can't fight every power. As Johnny said, could be a corporation, could be a rogue ai, either way Jefferson is fucked (and so are you).

#cyberpunk 2077 #mac plays video games #a lot of this journaling i do #so in a few years i can look back #and see my first impressions

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